"Well, this is it," Kibum states proudly as he opens the door to his apartment, "Welcome to chateau Kibum. What do you think?"

"Kibum, this is really nice. Look at the view! Look at the lights in the park! Wow. It's so beautiful... And the interior is amazing. Did you decorate this place yourself?"

"Guilty," Kibum says with a huge smile plastered on his face.
"Sit down, Jonghyun, seriously. You're my guest. You don't have to stand."

And with that he hurries me over to his big red sofa and sits me down.

Once he sees that I am situated comfortably in his spacious living area, he makes his way over to the front door, where he removes his black overcoat and snow boots quickly and precisely.

"Jonghyun, aren't you going to take off your boots?" he calls from the other room. 

"Oh, sure. Sorry about that," I answer apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. I was going to clean the floors tomorrow anyway..."

I stop listening to him at that moment,
For as soon as I start to take off my boots, I come to a sudden realization:
This boy - this boy has to be from a very dignified and well-off family.

His clothing is stunning and seems to have secret dollar signs printed on the fabric - 
His living space is gargantuan and it boastfully sports state of the art appliances and devices -
Even the rags hanging in his laundry room seem more fine and expensive than my own clothes.
 

In this moment, I don't want to take off my boots.
I don't want him to see them.
He would be disgusted by them -
He would be disgusted by me.

He would take one look at my clothes and order me to leave at once,
For he could not afford to have someone as petty as me soiling his appearance.

I don't want to soil his appearance.
I just want to crawl in a hole somewhere far away
So I can save myself the embarrassment
And him the humiliation.
 

"Jonghyun, you silly boy, what's taking you so long to take off your boots?"

I try to answer him.
Really, I do.
But I just can't form the words I want so desperately to say.

'I'm sorry, Kibum, but I could never fit in with your social circle.'
'I'm sorry that I'm dirtying your apartment, Kibum. I never meant to cause you any trouble.'
'I'm sorry for wasting your time, Kibum. I'll see myself out.'

But I just can't say a word.
I am too ashamed of myself -
Too displeased with myself.
 

In a matter of seconds, Kibum enters the living area and is standing right in front of me.

"Is something the matter, Jonghyun? Is everything alright?" he asks me while bending forward to look into my eyes.

But I won't let his eyes make contact with my own.
I just can't.
I am too unworthy to look into his eyes -
I am unworthy.
 

"Kibum..." I state suddenly -
I don't even realize I have said his name,
But once he stops fighting to enter my field of vision,
I know that I have to say something or he'll start the struggle back up again.
 

"Kibum, I...I'm...sorry..."
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" he replies sharply.
 

I look at the ground and am completely engrossed by the spotlessness of his marble floors.
'The sooner you spit it out, the better,' I think to myself, 'The sooner you do it, the sooner you can leave.'
 

"I'm so sorry, Kibum, for ruining your apartment."
 

"Ruining it? You're not ruining it, silly. You're just sitting on my couch. That's all."
 He places his hand lightly on my knee and I jump up from the couch frantically.
 

"Jonghyun, I...I didn't mean to..."

"No, no, Kibum, no...I...I didn't mean to...to ruin..."

"Ruin? What on earth are you talking about? You haven't ruined a thing..."

"But I have, Kibum! Oh, I have! And I'm sorry, Kibum. I didn't...didn't mean to..."
 

Just then, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me closer to him.

He looks me directly in the eyes.

I try to keep myself from looking in his eyes,
But once our eyes make contact...
I just can't look away.

And I know I should
Because I am not worthy to be in his field of vision.
 

"Why are you saying these things, Jonghyun? Why? Tell me."
His voice is commanding and authoritative.
And I, being the miserable servant of the streets that I am, feel obligated to answer.
 

"Because...because..."
"Oh, just spit it out, would you?"
 

"Because I'm a street rat, Kibum! Do you understand me? I'm a street rat and you're the son of a family of wealth and reputation. I can see that just by looking around your home. I'm not worthy to associate with you, Kibum. You're too good for me. So I'm...I'm sor..."
 

"Jonghyun, if you say that you're sorry one more time, I swear, I will hit you."

I stop then.
I stop saying that I am sorry
Because I know that if I don't stop,
He really will hit me.

There is no doubt in my mind that he will.
 

"You know, Jonghyun, you're ridiculous. Do you really feel unworthy to be around me?"
 

All I can do is nod my head.
I know he doesn't understand,
And I just want to make him understand.

If he had lived like I had,
And spent a day in my shoes,
He would understand.

He would understand how I'm feeling.
 

"That's crazy, Jonghyun. Do you think I would have invited you up to my apartment in the first place if I thought you were unworthy to be around me? No, no I wouldn't have."
 

He has a point.
He has an honest to goodness good point.
And when he sees my eyes widen with childlike giddiness, he smiles and lets a small laugh escape his lips.
And soon, his laughter grows louder -
Louder until the whole room is filled with the sound of his sweet voice gasping for air as he holds his stomach and just lets the laughs leave his mouth one by one.
He looks so happy and friendly
That I am ashamed of myself for judging him in the first place.
And my self loathing soon turns to pure joy as I realize that I am indeed wanted by Kim Kibum.

And I feel good knowing that.

So I allow myself to laugh along with him,
And we just stand there and laugh together.
We laugh together for what seems like hours,
And once we stop laughing, we both sit on his couch,
And we talk about many things.

He asks me many questions,
And I ask him questions in return.
 

"How old are you, Jonghyun?"
"Nineteen."
"Hey! Just a year older than me."

"What do you do in your spare time, Kibum?"
"Well, I like to sing and dance. If I could, I would be a singer. But my step-mother would never approve of that. She wants me to be a doctor like my father was."
"Oh, I see."
 

But soon, the question came -
The question I was hoping would never be asked -
 

"Where do you live, Jonghyun?"

I don't want to answer him.
I don't want to tell him that I have no family -
That I lived the last nine years of my life in the orphanage without a single soul wanting to take me into their family -
That I just ran away from that orphanage and have nowhere else to go.

I don't want him to know.
 

"Oh...well...I...I live...near...um..."

"Jonghyun?"
 

I stop talking altogether.

He has me in a trap,
And the longer he looks at me, the more I begin to think that he is discovering my secret.
 

"Where do you live, Jonghyun? Can you answer me that?"

"I...I..."

I give up.
It's useless trying to hide from him.
He can see into my soul,
And he knows the truth.
I already know that he knows the truth.
So there's no use in hiding it anymore.
No, there's no use.
 

"I...don't live anywhere, Kibum. I...I don't...I don't have...a home."

"You don't? Well...you could...you could stay here. With...me. If you...if you wanted to..."

I don't know what to say.
His apartment is so beautiful,
So warm and so cozy...

And he is a very nice guy.
Yeah, he's a nice guy.
 

But I don't want...don't want to...intrude...
Don't want to...contaminate...
Don't want to...humiliate...
 

"Kibum, I...I couldn't..."
"Why couldn't you?" he replies quickly.
 

"I wouldn't...fit in..."

"Fit in? What do you mean fit in?"

"With you. With your family. With your lifestyle. I just couldn't..."

"Look here, Jonghyun, I'm going to say this one time and one time only, so you better listen. Are you listening, Jonghyun?"

"...Yes..."

"You don't have to fit in. You don't have to fit in with me or my family. You don't have to try to be anyone you're not. Do you understand me?
Besides, you don't want to fit in with my family.
I don't even want to be a part of my family.
They all...expect something from me.
They all want me to match up to this perfect image that my father had,
And all I want to do is tell them that I'm not my father and throw a tantrum and be shipped off to some boarding school in the middle of nowhere.

At least then I could be far, far away from them.
 

Oh, Jonghyun..." he stops speaking for a moment and wipes his eyes.

I can see tears building up in them,
But I don't know what to do to make them stop.
 

"Oh, Jonghyun, when they look at me, they don't see Kibum. Not the real Kibum. They only see the Kibum that can be - the Kibum who is the spitting image of his father.
And I hate it, Jonghyun! I just hate it..."

He pauses for what seems like ages and resumes speaking.

"...You don't know how lucky you are, Jonghyun.
You're your own person.
You're wacky and light hearted and true to yourself.
And you can't even begin to understand how envious I am of you."
 

And soon, the tears that had built up in Kibum's eyes fall down.
And, almost instinctively, I take his cheek in my hand and wipe them away.
And he just smiles at me.

He puts his own hand on top of mine,
And in sharing the mutual silence with him, we become closer.
 

I have never felt so close to a person before.

We speak through our eyes
And let the comfort of the quiet overtake our still bodies.

And after his tears stop falling and I slowly take my hand away from his cheek, I feel that I understand him more.

I feel that I have finally come to understand Kim Kibum -
The real Kim Kibum.
 

"So, what do you say, Jonghyun?" he asks me as he rises from the couch and straightens his posture,
"Would you like to stay with me? In all honesty, I could use a roommate. I get lonely in this big place all by myself."
 

I can't help but smile at him.
All this time I thought he was some sort of...
Some sort of prize.

A priceless heirloom -
A porcelain doll -
But now I understand...
Now I know...

He is a person,
A real person,
Just like me.
 

"I...I would love to stay with you, Kibum. I'd like that very much."

"Good," he says with a smirk as he kneels to the ground and begins untying my worn snow boots, "If you said no, I was going to start begging."

I chuckle at his words, bend over, and help him untie my boots.
And after my tattered and torn boots are placed comfortably next to his patented leather ones, we make our way to the window and gaze at the twinkling lights in the park.

And as we are gazing out the window, side by side, I swear that I can feel a sort of connection growing between us.
A small fire -
A bundle of positive energy -

Whatever it is, it is growing and I can feel it.
And I am engulfed and utterly enriched by its presence.

And I long for that connection -
That fire -
That energy -

To be around me for all time.