Chapter 2

Baekhyun has never shared a meal with anyone. His siblings don't particularly like it if he eats with them and his mother was out of the equation considering her unearthly tendencies, so he only eats by himself in his room. And since he wasn't used to the company of people at school, he'd escape to the roof and find his state of peace.

But now there was someone occupying the space where his books usually sat. He wants to talk to him and start a conversation, but he doesn't know how it should develop. Is it sad that he doesn't know how to speak? Something people have grown up with since they were 4, he lacks in it. Baekhyun was thankful that Chanyeol seemed social though, because the tall lad did most of the talking for him. He did nod and murmur occasionally though, and he hopes it is enough.

“Hey, your smart.” Chanyeol says after speaking about all his favorite types of candies and ice cream. Apparently he loves the flavor of strawberry and oreos mixed with honey, and he was very confident about his prefrence of flavors. Baekhyun found it entertaining. His hands reach for the paper jammed in between Baekhyuns algebra book, and he seems like he wants to take it out, but before doing so he looks up at him as if taking permission. The short boy fixes his glasses on his small nose and nods while his lips.

“I wish I was this good, my highest in that class isn't even considered high.” Baekhyun looks up from his sandwich and gulps. Should he comfort him? Is this the type of situation where one deserves comforting? He doesn't think so, because he has experienced it himself; moments where he felt the need to be comforted. And times when he received low grades such as an A-minus did not really reach the top of the list.

“D-Do you study? It helps...” He says it quietly and he is surprised to even know that he is capable of saying just that.

“I do, but it never works.” Chanyeol sighs and after a few seconds, he gives Baekhyun a look filled with mischief. One of his eyebrows, perferably his right one, rises and his lips are pulled upwards in a naughty grin. He doesn't know why, but that certain look makes his cheeks feel hot, even with the puffs of small winds hitting him. “Do you think you could help me?” Baekhyun is taken aback as he stars at the boy in astonishment. His lips are agape and after a while of realizing how dumbstruck he must've looked, he closes his mouth with a gulp. Does this mean Chanyeol wants to see him once more? The thought makes him feel as if he is on a cloud, he feels accepted and it is rather calming.

Not only that but, there is this surging emotion in his chest that is luring him to accept. He has no idea what it is, but it is exploading and raidiating. And so, he finds himself nodding tactfully. The thought of having to actually speak with him never crossed his mind, he only thought of meeting Chanyeol again, which was enough to persuade himself completly.

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After school Baekhyun headed towards the place he dreaded the most; the hell hole people called home. He didn't want to go, but if he was even a minute late, he knew Martha, his stepmother, would go berserk. Baekhyuns life wasn't always dreadful, it only transformed into his nightmares after his mother died, and closely after that, as if the darkness had not seeped into his light already, his father chose to marry a foreign woman. He thought that if getting remarried was a way to find happiness for his father, then he'd also be happy, but he was so wrong. He intended to give the woman a chance, it was her who didn't give Baekhyun a chance. She never showed any liking towards him, even from the start, and it slowly began to break him.

He hears the door click behind him as it closes, and he looks around at the darkened hallway. He sighs in relief when the lighting of the hell hole seemed to show that no one was home. So he proceeds to walk through the corridor and into the living room to sit down on the tan couch across from the televesion. He rarely gets to watch TV because it's just something that was too fun for him; Martha's number one rule was that if she has to live her life in despair, then so does Baekhyun. Thus why he cannot join any clubs at school or attempt to make friends, although the latter was more on the fault of abuse. Sighing, Baekhyun wants to turn on the TV, but he hears a rough voice that makes him drop the remote onto the wooden floor surprisingly.

“You scared me! I thought you were a ghost!” Martha says with her hand clasped over her chest, where her heart is supposed to lay, but he believes she doesn't have one. “Why didn't you say you came?” She says through gritted teeth, and it makes fear climb through his insides. She is a rawboned woman with an oily touch to her deshiveled blonde hair, which is currently tied back carelessly, and a pale complextion. Her eyes are the shade of blackbarries, matching with her complexive soul. The mere sight of her brings anxiety towards Baekhyuns system.

“I-I thought no one was h-home..” He says with stutters coating each syllable, and he averts his eyes elsewhere, not wanting to stare directly into her pair of black holes.

“Oh, and you decided to watch TV? Who said you could? And dropping the remote on the ground— do you want me to go out there and buy a new remote because you're stupid enough to drop it?” She walks over to him in long strides and he feels her hands wrap around his collar in seconds, picking him up ruthlessly and shaking him fervently. He gasps and pulls on her