Jongin gripped the crumpled-up test in his fist harder, trying to resist the urge to stare again at the red marks that littered the page. For as much as he didn’t care about this class, anger still boiled in his stomach whenever he looked upon the vibrant red “D” at the top of the page. Microeconomics, macroeconomics, inflation, and distribution were all just words. He didn’t care what they meant or what effect they had on the way the world worked. His grades obviously reflected that, too.

He stuffed the crumpled pages into his pocket and pulled his jacket closer around him to block out the chill of late autumn. He was telling himself that he was just upset over his failed test grade, but that was a lie. All of his classmates, it seemed, knew what they were going to do with their life. Except for him, apparently. He chose to major in business because everyone else did. Three years in and he still didn’t know what he wanted out of life. He didn’t like his business classes. He didn’t like his economics classes. He didn’t like his accounting classes or mathematics classes or even his general education classes. He didn’t really like anything at all.

But he did like the smell that was coming out of the restaurant he just walked past. He backtracked a few steps to look in through the window. It smelled of freshly made noodles and flavorful broth that made Jongin’s stomach rumble. Before he knew it, he was heading inside and sitting down at a corner table, salivating over the pictures on the menu.

“E-Excuse me! One order of seafood kalguksu please!”

A passing server nodded his head and told the kitchen of the new customer’s order. Satisfied, Jongin took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. From his seat, he could see the city street outside the restaurant. Some of his classmates were roaming about just like him, except they were surrounded by loud, laughing friends. Friends like he’d never really cared about making.

Jongin was alone. Jongin didn’t have any friends.

He looked down at his hands clasped on his legs and tried to shake off his thoughts.

After a few minutes, Jongin heard the clink of a bowl on the table in front of him. When he looked up with a “thank you” on his lips, the words died in his mouth as soon as he made eye contact with the beautiful wide-eyed server standing in front of him. Despite the warmth of the restaurant, the boy was dressed in a black turtleneck and gloves. His wide eyes blinked disinterestedly, full lips set in a slight frown.

He started to shift back on forth on his feet uncomfortably the longer Jongin stared at him.

“Do you need something, sir?”

Jongin didn’t register that the server was speaking to him until the boy repeated what he said a little louder.

“Uh...uh, I-I um...w-water, please,” Jongin stuttered out. The server eyed Jongin’s practically full glass of water but nodded his head before turning toward the kitchen. Realizing his mistake, Jongin downed as much of his glass as he could before the server came back with a large pitcher of water. Jongin was again eyed with suspicion as the server refilled his now-empty glass.

“Anything else, sir?”

“M-Maybe your...name?”

The server’s eyebrows furrowed just a little as he set the pitcher down on Jongin’s table.

“Do Kyungsoo...sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” Jongin said softly, looking away from the server shyly as he said it. He then turned back to Kyungsoo with a bright and slightly awkward smile on his face.

“Thank you, Do Kyungsoo-ssi! I-I’m Jongin...”

Kyungsoo looked a bit shocked and confused at Jongin’s advances. He nodded his head a little hesitantly and quickly shuffled back to the kitchen. He was cute, too cute, even with his black bowl cut.

He picked up his chopsticks and dug into the warm noodles in front of him, all the while keeping an eye on the kitchen door. After a couple minutes, Kyungsoo came back out, throwing a quick glance in Jongin’s direction. When he saw the other still staring at him, he blushed a little and scampered off to assist other customers. Jongin just chuckled.

Right before the server was going to return to the kitchen, Jongin decided to accidentally push his chopsticks off the table. The clanking startled Kyungsoo and a few other patrons sitting close by. Kyungsoo slowly looked up at Jongin, his face now portraying just a hint of annoyance.

“Um, e-excuse me...can I get another pair of chopsticks?” Jongin called out.

“Yes sir, right away,” Kyungsoo mumbled, leaning through the kitchen door to quickly grab another set. When he set them down on Jongin’s table, he deliberately avoided the other’s eyes as he bowed his head and turned around to leave.

“Wait, Kyungsoo-ssi!”

Jongin saw Kyungsoo’s shoulders tense a little when he called out the other’s name. The server turned around, still without looking at Jongin.

“Yes, sir?”

“Well, uh...u-um,” Jongin stalled as he racked his brain for a topic, “h-how old are you?”

“Is that...relevant, sir?”

“...maybe.”

Kyungsoo sighed in annoyance.

“23.”

“International or Korean age?”

“...what country are we in right now.”

“Right.”

The server nodded his head and tried to quickly but professionally escape the conversation with Jongin. The latter thought he might be wrong, but he swore he saw the faintest hint of a blush on Kyungsoo’s cheeks.

“I’m 22, by the way,” Jongin called after him a bit shyly.

Kyungsoo continued on like he didn’t hear Jongin. He shuffled away quickly to answer the call of another table when suddenly he was clutching his side in pain. His steps faltered, and he reached out a hand to balance on a table as he stumbled.

Jongin watched him with a hint of concern. None of the other customers seemed to care about Kyungsoo’s moment of pain, more intent on eating their food or talking with their friend than caring about some insignificant server. But it only lasted for a second. Kyungsoo righted himself immediately and resumed his work. Jongin could tell, though, that he was walking gingerly.

The customers that called for him made their request for food, eying his gloved hands suspiciously. When Kyungsoo left, the two leaned in to each other to whisper while sneaking glances at the server and making gestures to their hands. Jongin glared at them over his bowl of noodles as he finished his meal. They never looked over at him, but at least he felt like he was standing up for Kyungsoo.

As he went to pay for his meal up front, Jongin took one last glance around the restaurant. Kyungsoo was bussing tables currently, cleaning them up in preparation for the dinner rush. He was definitely moving slower than before. Occasionally, he would rub his side while he winced a little in pain. When he got to Jongin’s table, he hesitated. His wide eyes found the other at the front of the store. When he found Jongin staring back at him, he blushed and looked away, finally taking Jongin’s bowl and walking back toward the kitchen.

“Um, excuse me for...a second.”

Jongin set the money on the counter and walked to the back of the restaurant. Kyungsoo was just coming out of the kitchen with a cloth to wipe down the tables, one of his hands still holding his side. Jongin reached out and lightly grabbed the server’s arm. The wide-eyed boy jumped a bit in shock.

“A-Are you okay? Kyungsoo-ssi?”

The other hadn’t looked Jongin in the eye, only staring at the hand on his arm. He in his lips as if he was going to bite on his lower lip, but he must have realized and stopped himself. He huffed out a sigh and finally looked at Jongin with annoyance.

But his slightly angered expression soon turned hesitant and scared, eyes cresting with unshed tears. Jongin just stared back with increasing concern and increasing interest.

Kyungsoo winced and stifled a pained moan, both hands now clutching at his side. His breathing grew heavier and quicker. Jongin’s hands flailed about, not sure if he should hold Kyungsoo to keep him from falling over or if the other didn’t want to be touched at all. Kyungsoo took shaky steps back away from Jongin and mustered up the strength to speak despite the pain.

“If you’re finished...please...please leave, sir.”

He snatched his arm away from Jongin’s hold and hobbled back to the kitchen.

Jongin watched him walk away, confused.

Kyungsoo stumbled out the employee exit of the restaurant into the adjacent alley. He leaned back against the door once it closed, hands still clutching at the area in pain. When he looked left and right, he was glad to see that the customer from earlier was not waiting for him at the end of his shift. There was also no one but a few stray passersby along the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

Kyungsoo sighed in relief and made his way to the subway. The streetlights were harsh against the dark of night. The boy pulled down on his turtleneck sweater in self-consciousness, trying to hide his skin from the fluorescence.

As he entered the subway and grabbed a seat on the near-empty train, thoughts of the customer from earlier played across his mind. Jongin. The boy had developed some kind of sudden interest in Kyungsoo upon first glance, and it unnerved the server. At first it was weird, but then...it was cute. He was cute. He reminded Kyungsoo of times before all of this pain happened. Of times when he could enjoy being himself and not second-guess everything.

His side throbbed at his thoughts and he groaned quietly, earning a weird glance from a passenger across from him. He just sighed and tried to clear his mind to make the pain go away. His head leaned back against the window. He closed his eyes to the sound of the subway clunking along.

His apartment was thankfully only a short walk from the station. He had to trudge up four flights of stairs, though, heavily leaning on the railings to hoist himself up. The apartment was small and cheap, enough for one person to live in on a very small salary. Enough for a person who was trying to escape from their life.

Kyungsoo took off his shoes at the entrance and threw his gloves on the kitchen counter that he passed. His hands glinted blue in the streaks of citylight that came in through the shuttered window. As he walked into the bathroom, he slowly pulled his turtleneck up over his head and the light. His eyes closed at the sudden brightness. When he cautiously reopened them, he was staring at his chest that was covered in multicolored crystals. Sapphire and rose, topaz and amethyst. Emerald glistened along his collarbone, and cerulean shined on his knuckles.

The new crystal was white with small stripes of light beige. It started out on his lower right side and was slowly creeping up his skin, passing through other crystals of purple and turquoise as it grew. As Kyungsoo touched it with his hand, he hissed in pain.

His face curled in disgust while he swiped up his shirt from the floor to put on again. He grabbed a used journal and pen from the table in front of his couch and set to work on his laptop, searching the internet for the name of this new crystal.

White agate, stone of hope. Increases energy. Assists with acceptance of all things.

Hope? Energy? Acceptance? All Kyungsoo felt like doing was curling up in a ball, staring at the wall, and forgetting life. The stones never matched the situation. If anything, they were always the opposite of what he was feeling. The meanings of the crystals were positive and inspirational, full of properties that were meant to heal him and restore balance to his life. Instead, he felt like every time a crystal grew on him it just added to his misery.

October 6th, white agate (hope, energy, acceptance)

I think a customer flirted with me today. But I don’t deserve his interest. I’m not handsome or anything. As soon as he gets to know me, he’ll realize that I’m worth nothing. He’ll run away. I shouldn’t hope for something that will never happen.

Kyungsoo put the pen down. He stared at the newest entry in his journal with eyes that were b with tears. He hated himself. He hated everything about himself and his deformity.

It started in high school. There was a lot of yelling and a lot of confusion. He was surrounded by people as he sat at his desk. His eyes were blurry from tears, but he could still see the cruel words etched into his desk. The voice he heard most distinctly was his best friend’s voice. His previous best friend’s voice. But now everyone had him. He had no one. No one cared. Their spiteful words stabbed him. He felt a sharp pain near his heart, and it made him cry out and clutch at his chest. Laughing ensued. It was shrill to his ears but didn’t compare to the pain that was attacking his heart. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up and pushed past the crowd around him.

The bathroom was a few strides down the hall and to the right. He burst through the door with tears streaming down his cheeks in pain. He leaned over the sink, dry heaving the non-existent contents of his stomach. When his heart gave another shoot of pain, he quickly ed his school uniform shirt to reveal his chest. Shards of red crystal were growing from his heart, snapping and crackling as they grew bigger. It hurt. It hurt so much that it was almost unbearable.

Kyungsoo backed away from the mirror, opening and closing his eyes as if he could awaken from this nightmare. But it wasn’t a nightmare. He reached a hesitant hand up to the crystals, yelping at the pain it caused when he touched them.

Rhodochrosite.

He felt mutilated. He felt disgusting. He felt like a monster. No wonder everyone left him. He didn’t deserve anyone. Not friends. Not family. Not anyone.

Every day that his classmates threw insults at him, he felt the crystals on his heart start to grow. It was only then at first. Two weeks later, however, he received a bad grade on an important test. When the teacher told Kyungsoo that she expected better from him, the boy felt a sharp pain on his hands and quickly pulled them under his desk. A blue crystal was forming on his knuckles, specks of green occasionally scintillating in the light.

Apatite.

Things kept getting worse. He dropped his drink at a coffee shop and felt a pang in his shoulder as everyone in the place stared at him. He tripped while stepping onto the subway train and saw crystals start to form on his left ankle. He looked at himself in the mirror, thinking about all his imperfections, and cringed as topaz-colored crystal crawled up his neck.

As the bullying at school continued, Kyungsoo fell into a sort of depression. Negative thoughts swirled his mind constantly, and his crystal pain became almost second nature to him, a constant dull throb on his body to remind him of how worthless and imperfect he was. He withdrew from his friends, denied all help from teachers and counselors, and hid everything from his family. He could see their worry; the side glances at the dinner table, the awkward small talk in an attempt to get him to open up. But he never responded. He bought dark clothes to cover up his malady and spent his time holded up in his room.

When he graduated, he started a part-time job at a noodle restaurant against his parent’s wishes of him attending college. After that, neither his mother nor father would speak to him much. His older brother tried to stay in contact, but he too became frustrated by Kyungsoo’s lack of response. Kyungsoo found another job and saved up enough money to leave his home, buying a small, cheap apartment not far from where he worked. By that time, his whole chest, neck, right arm, and some of his legs were covered in crystals of various shapes, sizes, and colors.

Kyungsoo lived in the small apartment, cooking his own meals, making his own money, and paying his own rent. He didn’t talk to his neighbors and he lost contact with his family. He didn’t have any friends upon graduating high school, and never had any significant others. His co-workers gave up on trying to talk to him after the first couple weeks. His mood steadily dropped, and his depression worsened. But nobody was there to care for him. He shut himself off from the real world, content to stew in his loneliness and his crystallized body.

Kyungsoo rubbed his temples as the memories faded away. His computer screen had eventually fallen asleep, so he decided to shut it off and go get himself a quick meal before bed. The cup noodles weren’t good, but they filled him up enough after a long day of work. He threw the styrofoam cup out after he was finished and walked to his bed, pulling off his clothes and tossing them into his hamper.

As he lied in bed and stared up at the black ceiling, he thought again about the customer from earlier. He could feel his side still throbbing, and it gave an acute sting as he thought of how Jongin deserved someone wa