Cute and adorable. That’s all he ever got, but why was it that he hated it? It wasn’t like he hated getting compliments or that he hated being called cute, it was that he wasn’t. No one ever saw it, though. No one ever saw that he was handsome, not cute. No one except that one girl...

“I really just don’t want to go today, guys.”

“Then don’t.”

“Just skip.”

“She won’t skip, she doesn’t have the guts to do it.”

“You know what, fine, I’m going then,” She her heel and walked off, avoiding all authorities and slipping out of the school grounds. She was walking on the sidewalk, quite speedily actually, and then she noticed a boy wearing the same school uniform as her. Smoothing her skirt and flipping her bangs from her eyes, she sped up and walked past the boy, hoping not to get noticed.

But he caught her wrist as she passed by him, turning her on the spot, and right then, she found herself looking in the eyes of the single-handedly most attractive boy in the school.

“I know you know who I am, so just answer me honestly. What do you think of me?” He spoke lightly, a smile finding its way to his lips.

The girl looked down sheepishly, then glanced back up at him with wide eyes. “Okay, I know everyone calls you cute, but I don’t think you are. It’s wrong to call a grown man cute in my eyes, it gives me the willies. I think you’re outrageously y. Now, Luhan, can you let me go? I’m busy skipping school.”

It was the first and only time he ever heard the word “y” used to describe him. Ever since that day, he had felt a certain confidence in him as he walked down the school halls, but he was still the cute and adorable kid to everyone. His wide smile was “to die for” and his big eyes made him look like you could “pinch his cheeks”.

Luhan walked off of the school grounds for the third time that week, ruffling his bright blonde hair as he fought the tears. He just wanted to be a regular kid, not fawned over, ignored by the school population. Okay, so maybe not totally ignored, but not as popular as he was then. He hated being the cutesy kid, the one everyone liked but couldn’t find him looking like anything but their little brother. Even to the girls he had genuine crushes on, he always found himself getting the answer: “Sorry, Lu, I just can’t see you as anything more than the cute little boy you are.”

Hyunwoo was sitting in a coffee shop, quietly sipping his coffee when the boy burst into the scene. The cashier looked up, sighing slightly. The cashier took the little wash cloth and began wiping the counter down when the boy sat down at a table. Hyunwoo kept his eyes trained on the boy, his eyes just barely glancing over the top of his cup as the steam came up and warmed his nose. He watched the boy carefully, his eyes soft as he saw how broken he was.

“Ah, sir,” Hyunwoo called to the cashier, who quickly came to him. “Can you please bring that boy over there a hot chocolate and put it on my bill? He needs it.”

The cashier blinked, nodded, and then hurried off to bring the schoolboy the hot chocolate. Hyunwoo sat forward in his chair, watching closely as the boy began to argue about receiving the hot drink. After a brief moment of hesitation, Hyunwoo slid from his seat and gently ghosted into the seat right across from the boy.

“Tell me what’s wrong over a cup of hot chocolate,” He said as softly as he could. And then the schoolboy blurted out everything, how he had longed to be something more than the cute boy next door. He fought back bitter tears, Hyunwoo noticed, and only at the end of his long rant did the boy let a single tear slide down his cheek.

Hyunwoo leaned forward, tilting his head slightly. “Hey, Luhan. Smile for me, okay? You’re handsome, very handsome, and a pretty face like yours should never experience tears,” Hyunwoo paused, thinking of the man whose tears he had previously collected, realizing how different his statement to this boy was than it had been to him. “Sometimes, you need to cry. But you don’t. Not over a matter like this. Who cares if people think you’re cute? As long as you know deep down in your soul who you are, people’s words don’t matter. However true it may seem by what they say, it most likely isn’t true at all. That’s something you have to learn, accept, and move on from. Give yourself confidence.”

Luhan stared at the stranger in front of him, his lips parted slightly in awe. “Who are you?” He whispered, tears forming in his eyes just from the simple words Hyunwoo had to say.

“Lee Hyunwoo’s the name. I’m the tear collector.” Luhan blinked, watching as the man stood and slipped some money to the cashier, smiled, and then walked out of the coffee shop. He turned back to face his untouched cup of hot chocolate, the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Hyunwoo-ssi, if you collect everyone else’s tears, who collects yours?”

⎛ on the other side... ⎠

Hyunwoo burst into his house, mumbling to himself about unimportant problems that are thrown on his shoulders. He threw his jacket on the couch, stalking into the kitchen where he poured himself a tall glass of whiskey, taking a long gulp as it burned his throat.

“Tear collecting... Wow, if only I could’ve have someone like that by my side when I was growing up. Wouldn’t I have been a very fortunate little boy.”

He scoffed, ruffling his dyed ginger locks, brushing his bangs from his forehead. Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to be so right? He was always hitting the spot for all those poor unfortunate souls, always knowing the right things to say, but as time went on, he found it harder and harder to comfort himself. So he did what he saw those around him doing. He drowned himself in the little things life could offer him, and for some reason, it became that he would save all the hurting people around him.

“How many tears have you collected, Hyunwoo-ssi?” He asked himself, looking into his half empty glass of whiskey, swirling the liquid, staring as if it could give him an answer. “More than anyone will ever know,” And then he downed the rest of the whiskey, slamming the glass on the table, hissing and leaning heavily against the counter before pouring himself another glass of whiskey, doing these actions over and over again until the bottle of whiskey was empty.

⎛ end ⎠