I first met him when in 2010. He walked in behind the manager. I thought he looked cute. The manager said his name was Luhan. I didn’t know what it meant in Chinese, but it suited him well - a cute name for a cute boy.

“Yah, I’m older than you! You should be calling me hyung!” Luhan used to screamed at me in annoyance every time I called him by his name. I love how his eyebrows twitched and he folded his arms to emphasise that he’s upset. “You’re Chinese, Korean customs don’t apply to you, Luhan,” was always my comeback.

I loved teasing him, seeing the look of disbelief on his face and his eventual i-give-up-do-what-you-want look. Luhan was older than me by 4 years, but somehow, every time we were together, I felt as if I was hanging around a younger brother. He loved to pout and use those big doe eyes to get what he wants, especially when the other party was me. Maybe back then, he had already known how soft I would get when it comes to him.

Luhan was like my other half, a soulmate-like existence. Maybe it was because he was warm, approachable and caring - the complete opposite of what I was. After all y’know, opposites attract. I could give no about all the things in the world, but when it came to Luhan, his everything concerned me. Has he eaten yet? What is he doing now? Is he practising his singing endlessly again? Those were the thoughts which could fill my mind for the whole day. He’s precious, after all.

So when he left, you could tell how shattered my world was. No, I did not lock myself up and cry the whole day, nor did I refuse to eat, drink and sleep, sending myself on the way to self-destruction. After all, I was a 20 year-old, responsible adult who knew what was expected of me and what I had to do. I had a whole worldwide famous kpop idol career in front of me that I couldn’t just up and quit. All I did was forget how to smile, how to laugh.

You know, those times where you feel like there just isn’t any reason to smile anymore? That was how I felt for three months straight after his departure. I could tell the other members were trying hard to cheer me up - their weird antics even weirder than before, they would randomly treat me to sweets and drinks or shove a chocolate in my face because chocolates are said to make people happy. But even after all these gestures, I couldn’t bring myself to smile properly. It felt like a part of me had gone missing - specifically, the reason for my happiness.

I don’t blame him for leaving, it's the best for him after all. We all knew how tough competition was in the Korean entertainment industry and how hard it was to be away from your family for months and even years. Surely all of us didn’t get to see our families, but our hometowns weren’t 952 kilometres away, unlike Beijing. After all, Korea wasn't his hometown. He could only listen to the orders given by the president in a foreign language and hope that whatever the higher ups were doing were beneficial for him. So when he told me he decided to leave, I smiled and told him I support his decision and that I’ll always be rooting for him. No