Kibum stopped just outside the cafe and took a deep breath. Whenever he was at the cafe, it was like he could breathe in the security of the place, breathe out the tough reality of his life; breathe in the smiles, laughs, and happy chatter of the people in the cafe, breathe out the glares and words of disappointment his parents spat his way; breathe in his personal heaven, breathe out the smothering stress.

Kibum really, really loved this cafe. Just standing outside of it made him feel more relaxed. Stepping inside, the sounds and smells of the cafe flooded his senses, and he closed his eyes with a soft smile. This was the moment he waited for every day.

The line to order was rather long, but Kibum didn’t mind the wait. A burst of cool fall air hit the back of his neck as someone entered--or rather flew--through the door. Someone was late for their shift, he assumed. Kibum played with his phone as he waited, and soon enough, he was at the counter, ready to order.

The man at the counter was slightly out of breath as he asked Kibum for his order, to which Kibum replied with a simple, “Latte.”

“Skim or two percent?” the same breathless, but slightly musical voice asked.

“Skim,” he replied, monotone, not looking up from his phone. He put down money to pay for the drink before walking away quickly, and he found his usual spot in the corner of the cafe. It wasn’t long after he got settled that the same man who took his order walked up, latte in hand, with a huge smile on his face.

“Here’s your coffee!” he said brightly. “Careful, it’s hot. Like me.”  The man was grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly proud of his choice of words. The man was attractive, sure, but Kibum wasn’t interested in his attempt at flirting.

Kibum rolled his eyes dramatically and took a sip of his latte, ignoring him. What he needed right now was to be alone, at least that’s what he told himself. The man must have sensed his unwillingness to reply, as he just tipped his head to the side before turning to walk back behind the counter. It was good, Kibum thought, for others to simply leave him alone and not concern themselves with his business.

This was how he handled all social situations. He pushed people away, although he wouldn’t call it that. He was protecting not only himself, but others. If they didn’t bother with him, they wouldn’t be disappointed in him. Kibum wasn’t capable of having friends, and he was fine with that. His parents were right about him, after all; he didn’t deserve friends, he was just a waste of other people's time. What good did he do for anyone else?

Despite how misguided that may seem, that was how Kibum protected himself; he couldn’t lose something he didn’t have. He knew the pain