She tried to focus on something in the room. But nothing came. She blinked, trying to clear the fog, but everything was lost in the mist. People whizzed by, oblivious to their surroudings. So instead, she sat there, waiting for someone to come. Then she started to imagine. What if she had never been chosen for this? If she never had been chosen, everything would be okay. She would be home, surrounded by her loving friends, looking up pictures of Woohyun. But now, her jealous friends turned their backs on her, chewing Seoyoo's desperate text messages and excited calls. She had no one.

It's not like she would have family waiting for her. The only person who would feel a tinge of worry if Seoyoo was gone too long would be the Orphanage housekeeper. Seoyoo lived in a downtown orphanage where she kept herself hidden and locked away after her parents both died in a car accident when Seoyoo was seven years old. It was a big shock: one moment she had a affectionate family. The next moment she nothing. Seoyoo had lost everything in a matter of seconds.

Now as she sat next to the trashcan with all her limbs feeling like they were on fire, she started to regret. She pressed her throbbing head against to the cold wall behind her and gave a loud sigh. She curled up and leaned against the trash can. Forever Alone. Seoyoo closed her eyes and pushed everything out except her own wandering thoughts. She blocked everything out except one voice that can intruding.

"Seoyoo!"

She ignored the call. She shifted her body so that whoever was calling her wouldn't see her. But she felt a tinge of happiness. At least someone had remembered her. Someone had noticed that she had been actually missing.

She heard the thudding of someone running across the mall. Finally the person came closer and dropped to her side. She felt the person's cold hands reach towards her face. He was breathing was harsh; trying to gulp down air. Seoyoo's whole body ached from the punches she had to take from those two girls. Every moment of the torture was horror.

"Are you okay?" his raspy voice was clearly filled with worry. "Someone help! Manager!" 

Seoyoo opened her eyes and rubbed them with her weak fingers. Her vision cleared and instead of seeing her hero, L, she saw the clumsy rapper who she had tried to teach ice-skating to (and failed): Hoya. Hoya was staring down at her, his forhead wrinkled up in worry. He had his eyes fixed on her, like she was the only person in the world who mattered at the moment. 

"Manager! Staff!" Hoya continued to call. He wrapped his arms around Seoyoo and hauled her upright. But Seoyoo pushed her way out of his grip. She ignored the flames of pain that continued to envelop her body. She stood up, weak on her legs, and swaggered. Hoya immediately was at her side, holding her shoulders.

"Sit, Seoyoo, sit," Hoya's commanding voice echoed through Hoya's head. "You're okay. I've got you. You're safe."

"No, no," Seoyoo mumbled. She pushed Hoya's hand off of her shoulder and took two staggering steps out of the little hallway. Hoya jumped forward and pulled her back. Pain seared through her shoulder. He probably put his hand on one of the three million black bruises she had all over her body.

"Where are you going?" his eyebrows knotted together. "Please, Seoyoo, you're hurt. Sit. I'll guard you."

"I'm going to go home," Seoyoo said. Her voice didn't sound like her own. Her lips were moving but she couldn't feel the words coming out of . Her tongue felt big and unfamiliar. "Going to go home."

Hoya rubbed his face. "Please," he begged. "Please, you're going to get help, sit down." 

"Oppa!" 

"!" Hoya hissed. He grabbed Seoyoo's arm and dragged her backwards, deeper into the alleyway. Seoyoo stumbled around. A tear slipped out and trickled down her face. N