Everyone believed he was crazy, deranged, demented, or even mad.

Everyone believed he was out of this world, completely unique, and just plain odd.

He had the looks, the attractiveness, the words, and everything. 

Minho was the complete package.

...

Too bad he was actually crazy, right?

...

He walked mindlessly alone in the sidewalk of the same street...As usual.

Everytime. Every single time, every person would stop, look at him, and shake their head in pity. 

He would smile. Minho would smile softly and greatly while his outstretched hand swinged in the air.

Minho would talk, blabber, and laugh. He would nod in agreement or shake his head in disagreement. But his direction was always to the right side.

"Boy, are you okay?" He would turn towards the person directing the same question with a puzzled nod.

"I am alright, Ahjumma." He would assure, and turn back to his original position with a laugh.

"Boy, who are you speaking to?" Again, he would turn with furrowed eyebrows and confused brown eyes.

"My girlfriend." As always, Minho noticed the confusion and fear go into the person's eyes.

"Son, there is nobody there." He would shake his head with a glare and walk away, his hand swinging like always. Ignoring the pity and the confusion, the boy would just ignore it with a smile to the right direction.

"People are so blind today...They can't even see y