Chanyeol could see the smoke from his bedroom window, thick, black and suffocating. A creepy grin crossed his lips; the bright flames in contrast with the heavy smoke were a beautiful sight to him. The building that had been set on fire was no more than a block from his apartment, so every detail could still be seen, and Chanyeol couldn't help but admire it.

The firefighters had gotten to the scene no more than ten minutes after it had started, but they were still having trouble putting the fire out; it kept growing and they were simply not containing it fast enough. As more fire trucks arrived on the scene, Chanyeol moved away from the window and to his bed before drifting off to sleep, the sirens like a lullaby to him.

Park Chanyeol hated school. Every second of it was hell, to put it lightly. He didn't cause trouble, but he didn't try to stay out of it either; the teachers all liked to pretend that he didn't exist. All that mattered was whether or not he handed in his homework. Even if he didn't, they didn't care; Chanyeol had been just scrapping by high school with a barely passing mark. He knew he could do well if he tried, but the thing was, he really didn't want to try; high school meant barely anything in the long run.

That day after school, Chanyeol was still thinking about that huge blaze from last night; he didn't really understand what it was that he liked so much about them. He was smiling to himself as he entered the parking lot of the school, heading towards his car, when someone head on crashed into him.

"I'm so sorry!" The other exclaimed, as he bent down to pick up the books and papers that had been in his arms. "Please don't be mad…"

Chanyeol picked up a book that laid to his left, and held it out to the other, while taking a good look at him. He looked like he was younger than himself, with a much smaller stature and dark brown hair, thick framed glasses upon his small face, a cute nose, and dressed in the same school uniform as Chanyeol; except he looked neat and clean with everything in the right place, while the taller male wouldn't have bothered to button up his shirt if he could get away with it.

"Thank you so much!" The smaller male said, accepting the book. "And I'm sorry again!"

Chanyeol watched as the other continued running in the same direction. He stopped when two guys stepped in front of him, a wide smirk on both their faces. They started pushing him around, until he fell on to the ground, his papers and books flying all over the place. Loud laughter could be heard as the bullies walked away. Chanyeol just stared as the smaller male picked everything up again, and considered going over to help him but didn't, deciding that this had nothing to do with him. So, he just continued to his car, trying to forget the kid with the thick glasses. He had more important things to think about.

Chanyeol picked buildings based on size, generally the bigger the better. He also made sure it was late at night and that there was no one in the place before he would do it; despite his dangerous hobby, he still didn't want to harm people. It also helped if the building was partially made of wood. That night, he chose a building that was a bit further from his apartment, just to see how fast he could escape. Chanyeol splashed kerosene on to the building, trying to cover as much surface area as possible, trying to get as big a blaze as possible. He was pretty sure that he wasn't doing this the right way, but he enjoyed it; it was his only form of stress relief.

Satisfied with the amount of area he had covered, Chanyeol lit three matches and tossed them towards the building. The effect was immediate; the fire was gloriously huge, and the bright yellows, oranges and reds were brilliant against the night sky. Chanyeol in a breath as he just stood there and watched, the grin on his face reminiscent of that of the Cheshire cat.

He was snapped out of his trance all too soon by the sound of sirens in the background. Checking his watch, he saw that it had only been seven minutes since he had lit it; they were getting faster, which meant Chanyeol needed to be more careful. Pulling his hood up to hide his face, he weaved around the area, trying to avoid any and all people. He drove away just as a police car pulled into the parking lot where the building was; any later, and he would have been caught.

Still smiling about the blaze as he drove away, Chanyeol laughed, happy that he had created such a thing, and relieved that he had managed to get away. Sighing, he drove back to his apartment, after taking a detour just in case, and went to bed, his mind at ease.

The first time Chanyeol had set something on fire was an accident. It had been a small piece of paper that had been left near the stove, which was on, and he had watched, fascinated, until his mom came in screaming and put it out. He had only been ten at the time.

The second time was an accident, or on purpose, depending upon how one viewed it. Chanyeol had discovered matches, and he had wanted to try them out. Unfortunately, he had been having next to no luck lighting them, and when he finally did, he had freaked himself out and dropped it. That day, he had set a small patch of grass in the backyard on fire, and his parents then learned to keep the matches away from him.

The third time was when Chanyeol had known that he was in love. He had stolen his father's lighter, and went to an abandoned alleyway rather far from the house with a bunch of things that he knew burned easily, from wood to paper. Each time, he had tried to create a bigger and brighter flame, and each time, it was that much more fascinating to him. He had played with the lighter until it was empty, and he had had no more things left to burn. Chanyeol had thrown the lighter away before going home, to destroy the evidence; when his father had asked later, he denied knowing anything. He had been thirteen at the time.

At fourteen, he and his parents got into a car accident. It left both of his parents dead, and him with nothing but a broken arm and a slight concussion.

After that, fire went from a hobby to a coping method. He had no one, but himself and his flames, his matches and his kerosene; he shuddered to think about what his parents would think of him right now. Setting things on fire helped him to sleep better at night, it helped him to be more alert, and it helped him keep the terrible memories at bay. Kerosene was difficult to come by, though, so sometimes he had to settle for small fires, and on those nights, he would cry himself to sleep, believing that it had been his fault that his parents were dead, and he wasn't.

Chanyeol realized that day, after yet another burned down building, that he was lonely, and he hoped that meeting people would help him to stop his destructive hobby. People at school were afraid of him, and he didn't go out much besides that. That boy that he bumped into at school that day, Chanyeol found that he couldn't stop thinking about him, and he didn't even know his name. Why that boy though? There had been nothing particularly appealing about the boy, but it may have been the way that he had looked at him, something akin to fear in his eyes, or his small stature that was almost cute, or maybe, Chanyeol just needed a friend. He decided then and there, though, as he watched the flames disappear, that he was going to learn it; he had been alone for far too long.

The next day at school, Chanyeol purposely stayed behind, hoping to see the boy that he couldn't get off his mind. He had no idea what he was going to say to him when or if he saw him; he just hoped that he could at least get his name. What was he even doing? Chanyeol thought, shaking his head. He felt… strangely embarrassed about what he was doing there, but his feet were planted on the floor of the hallways, and he found he couldn't make himself move. At this point, it was a little late to turn back.

What would he do if the boy didn't like him, or was scared of him? What if the boy thought he was creepy and ran away from him? What if he just… he tells him he hates him? It was questions like these that made Chanyeol seriously consider turning around and remain alone for the rest of his, most likely, short life. He was seriously considering leaving, and had even taken a step away from the wall he had been leaning against, when he heard the sound of something crashing into something else then something shattering on the floor.

Without another thought, Chanyeol found himself rushing towards the sound. Turning the corner, he took a moment to take in the scene before him, like he couldn't quite understand what was going on. The boy he had been waiting for, lay on the floor, a cut on one cheek, several bruises on the other, and dust in his hair as well as all over his clothes. Three taller guys loomed over him, all looking rather angry. One guy raised a foot and stomped the smaller boy on the back, making him gasp and curl in on himself. And then he noticed the broken vase laying in the corner.

"Look what you've done!" The bully shouted, he was the tallest of the three, kicking him. "You're going to get us all in trouble, you little !"

The other guys, one had bleached blond hair, and the other had slightly darker skin, all joined in then, mercilessly hurting the small boy. Chanyeol clenched his fist and he could feel himself shaking; he had never been a hero, he was more of an anti-hero, but he found he couldn't just stand by and watch this.

"Hey!" Chanyeol yelled, his feet planted firmly in front of the bullies and the small boy.

His outburst got the bullies' attention and they looked up at him, clearly unhappy with his interruption. No one said anything or did anything for a long, and awkward moment; the only thing that could be heard was the smaller boy's heavy breathing. Chanyeol was no longer sure what to say, and if he waited any longer, this was about to become more embarrassing than brave, or foolish, depending. Without another thought, Chanyeol rushed forward and punched the tallest of the bullies in the face, knocking him back and away from his buddies. The other two looked from Chanyeol to the other bully, shock on all their faces.

"Let's get out of here!" The blond one yelled before grabbing the other two and running down the hall. "We'll finish this later!"

Chanyeol contemplated running after them, but his eyes fell on the smaller male on the floor, still curled up. Casting one last glance in the direction the bullies had run in, Chanyeol knelt down next to the other and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The smaller male suddenly flinched away from him and shifted away, clearly scared.

"I won't hurt you…" Chanyeol told him softly, reaching a hand towards him. "I um… I…"

"Thank you for helping me…" The smaller male pulled his knees up to his chest, looking up at Chanyeol, and there was the barest hint of a smile on his face. "Oh, you helped me pick up my books last week. You're a really kind person, aren't you?"

Chanyeol paused, and then he was laughing before he could stop himself. He noticed the other’s glasses in the middle of the hallway and picked them up, before lowering himself next to the other, still laughing.

"What's so funny?" The smaller male was frowning slightly, his forehead creased in confusion. "Am I missing a joke?"

"No, it's okay," Chanyeol waved his hand in dismissal and handed the boy his glasses before he leaned back against the wall. "So, are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner…"

"I'm fine," He whispered, instead of taking his glasses, he buried his head between his knees, ignoring them, and the next thing he said so softly that Chanyeol almost missed it. "I'm used to it…"

Those four little words had an immediate effect on Chanyeol, they were said so sadly, and it was clear that this was something he didn't want to be used to, no one would. Shifting slightly closer to the other, after he had carefully set the glasses aside, Chanyeol placed an arm across the other's shoulders, he felt the other flinch, but this time, he didn’t pull away.

"My name is Park Chanyeol," He told him softly, trying to coax him out of his shell, and he could hear him sniffling. "May I ask yours? I… I would like to be friends."

He felt like he was speaking to a child, but sometimes, this tone of voice was just necessary.

"B-Byun…" He began, pausing when he hiccupped cutely, and finally raising his head to look at the other. "Bae… Baekhyun."

Chanyeol took a moment to let his eyes look the other over, taking in his red eyes from crying, the new bruises and scratches on his face, the dust and dirt all over him, to his posture that made it clear that he was a little scared around Chanyeol, not that Chanyeol could blame him, and to his lips that were pressed into a thin line, like there was something he wanted to ask.

"Um…" Baekhyun stuttered then, looking away from Chanyeol. "Why did you help me? Why would you help someone so worthless?"

Chanyeol could feel his heart breaking for him, and it took all his willpower to keep his own tears back. He understood how Baekhyun felt; he's felt that way his entire life, but he knew that this boy was pure, and much too innocent to think about himself like that. He took a deep breath, knowing that he needed to be gentle with his words, but he also needed to tell him the truth. Chanyeol just had never been good with words. It's been a long time since he'd even thought about making friends.

"Um, well, you see…"

End of chapter 1

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So here's chapter 1, I hope it's what you were expecting? And if not, not in a bad way? I don't know... Basically, this fic is going to be pretty... let's just say, not happy. It might end up being pure angst, and I'm sorry, truly am.

Thank you so much to everyone that subscribed and upvoted this after just the foreword ; A ; I hope I haven't disappointed any of you!

Until the next chapter... I'm going to try to keep this fic updated as consistantly as possible, but I'm not going to make you any promises. I will try my best to post weekly, or bi-weekly. Thank you in advance for your patience. <3