INTRODUCTION

Jung Ewon (Aeon Rhodes) 

The more I got to know Nichkhun, the more I realized he was a case of the cover perfectly matching the book. What I mean is, his kind eyes, warm smile, and wholesome overall appearance weren't hiding someone who secretly yanked kitten tails or listened to death metal. When school started that fall, Nichkhun joined Seoul Model United Nations (SEOMUN), Key Club and the football team. The first two were very impressive and civic-minded and blah, blah, blah. But have you seen those football uniforms? The pants are super tight in all the right places, and Nichkhun had a body to die for.

And that right there, folks, brings me to the second picture in the album. It might be a little unorthodox, but it, I love this shot: Nichkhun in a huddle at the homecoming game, bent over, white pants, backside view. I didn't miss a single game all season, but to this day, I have no idea how the game is played or what  a down is-in football context anyway. I am, however, intimately familiar with going down in the way that counts. Sorry, got distracted. Back to the picture.

Jung Ewon (Aeon Rhodes)

"Hey, homo, are you actually wearing girls' clothes now?" a nasty voice boomed from behind me. I tried to place it without turning around.

The words weren't anything I hadn't heard before. A lot, actually. But knowing wich particular said them generally helped me assess whether I should respond, duck, run, or a combination of all of the above. I thought about how depressing it was that there were enough candidates for this job at my school that I was struggling to identify the culprit. And that even accounted for the fact that I was a sophomore, so one class of bully prospects had already graduated. That was, unless the new freshmen were going to make my life miserable too. I was so distracted being horrified at the idea that kids younger then me might give me a hard time that I forgot all about the guy currently giving me a hard time.

"Are you deaf, Jung? I asked you a question."

Right. asking what I assume was a rhetorical question and apparently not having better to do than stand behind me and look at my while I got my books out of my locker. Hello, irony, pleased to meat you.

My friend Sandara was at her locker right next to mine, and the two of us had frozen in concert. "I'm sorry, Ewon." she whispered to me without moving and part of her body.

Apparently, we were both going for the 'if I can't see it, then it isn't real' approach to dealing with the situation at hand.

"It's ok. Hang tight. They'll leave after I'm gone."

I sighed deeply and stuffed as many books as I could fit into my backpack without damaging my brand-new-to-me ballet shoes. I had found a class at the youth center not too far from my apartment and I'd been spending every free minute practicing, which impressed my teacher so much the she found me the shoes. If I wanted to get in some practice time that afternoon, I'd have to avoid a broken leg. Taking a deep breath and holding the books I couldn't fit in my backpack against my chest like a protective shield, I turned around and appraised my bully du jour.

The sneering face was familiar, but I didn't know the guy's name. Ditto for the two guys standing behind him looking vaguely uncomfotable and yet amused. It was a hard combination to pull off, but brothers were making it happen. Go them. I darted my gaze around, trying to chart an escape path around the three big impediments that had me somewhat trapped against my locker.

"What kind of guy wears a pink sweater?" Number One asked.

Uh, one with a cool skin tone and great fashion sense. That sweater made my blue eyes pop and my pale skin look creamy and glowy. And side note, the jeans were hand-me-downs from my sister but the top was from the men's section at Filenes's Basement, thank you very much.

Because he was new to my harassment scene, I wasn't sure whether this guy was the violent type. I did like that sweater, though, and I wasn't inclined to get blood on it, so rather than telling he was way off base, I avoided eye contact and said "Excuse me" while I tried to step around him.

"No." he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Seriously?" I sighed tiredly.

"Yeah, seriously." he said as he stepped forward, looking two parts menacing and one part ridiculous.

I hadn't intended to say that out loud. Damn.

"Come on, guys," Sandara whispered "just leave us alone, okay?"

"You don't need to worry about that, porky." he said disdainfully. Then he dragged his gaze from her feet to her face and sneered. "Unless you stop stuffing your face and lose a ton of weight, you can count on a lot alone time."

His buddies giggled. Sandara blinked away tears. And I got pissed.

"Look"-what the was his name?-"uh, whatever your name is, we're suitably scared or impressed or intimidated or whatever. But we need to get to class now, so move."

On the plus side, my comment got him to move. Unfortunately, rather than moving away from me, he moved toward me. Or, more precisely, he moved his hand toward my shoulder, connected hard, and shoved even harder. My books crashed to the floor, I went tumbling back against the locker, Sandara grasped my arm to steady me, and clenched his fist, seemingly readying himself for the next round.

"Hey, Ewon. How's it going?" I tilted my head to the side and saw Nichkhun Buck Horvejkul walk up behind and slightly to the left of . "Kris, right?" Nichkhun said to , clueing me in on his name. "And you guys are-" he squinted and looked at the other two guys "-Kai and Chanyeol?" he said as he patted their backs. Two bobbleheads nodded, and Nichkhun somehow managed to smoothly move his huge frame between themm and over to me. His gaze moved to the books at my feet "Oh, your books fell." he said. Then he squatted down and stacked my books up. Once he had neatly arranged wiith the largest on the bottom and the smallest on top, he straightened up "We need to make sure this never happens again, Ewon." He said my name, but was looking straight at Kris, who was standing there, slack-jawed.

"You know this guy, Nichkhun?" Kris asked.

Nichkhun shifted my books into one arm and wrapped the other around my shoulders. "Sure, I do." Nichkhun said "He's my next-door neighbor and a good friend. Hey, remember how Coach said the team is like family?" He paussed "No, maybe you guys weren't there. I think he said it during varsity practice. Well, anyway, the team is like a family, so we need to have each other's backs on the field and off. Since Ewon's sort of like my family, I guess that means the team will have his back too." He took a step forward, keeping his arm around me. The three guys stepped aside to give us room. "Coach feels pretty strongly about that kind of thing. If you move up from JV, I'm sure you'll hear the speach."

The three big menaces nodded some more, mumbled, and then scattered. I stared up at Nichkhun in awe.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to the guy who just saved you life? Sandara asked.

Nichkhun blushed "I'm sure you guys were fine. I didn't do anything." he said.

But he had to know that wasn't true. Nichkhun had been in our school for less than two months, but already he was Mr. Popular. Making the varsity football team had helped with that, but mostly I chalked it up to his always present smile, upbeat personality, and -hardening good looks. He was the kind of guy everybody naturally gravitated toward, and frankly, I was constantly surprised he still gave me the time of day.

It had been one thing when he was new to the neighborhood and didn't know anybody. But once Nichkhun got settled and made friends, I was certain hed stop spending time with a scrawny sophomore who hung out with the theater geeks and the art dorks. But counter to my predictions, he never tried to put any space betweenus. If anything, we'd become even closer as we'd spent more time together.

"Nichkhun, you remeber my friend Sandara, right?" I said "Sandara, I know you remember Nichkhun, The guy who might not saved my life, but who definitely save me from another black eye or fat lip."

Nichkhun's distressed gasp took me off guard. "Do you really think they would have hurt you, Ewon?" he asked "I thought they were just screwing around and being jerks." He cupped my cheek and gently ran his  fingers along the edge of my eye while he traced my bottom lip with his thumb "If they give you any more trouble, you let me know right away, okay?"

A dip of my head was the best I could give him. My tongue suddenly felt thick in my mouth, and I was busy swallowing. The warning bell rang-I'm talking about the actual school bell here, not anything in my head-and Nichkhun dropped his hand "Gotta go." he sais as he handed me my books "My next class is on the other side of the building." I took my books and watched him jog away. "See you tonight." he shouted over his shoulder. Then he turned the corner.

"Wow" Sandara said "He's-"

"Yup." I sighed wistfully "He sure is."

Friday nights that fall consisted of football. 'Yup, I just wrote that sentence'. Never in a million years would have thought I'd be spending my free time at school, but there I was every Friday, climbing the bleachers, sometimes alone and sometimes with whatever friend I could wrangle into joining me. And it wasn't because I liked the game. In fact, the game made no sense whatsoever, the scent of hot dogs and processed cheese made want to vomit, and more often than I care to recount, there was actual vomit from drunk classmates who liked to drink behind the bleachers. Sounds like good times, right? Strangely enough, I had fun at those games, despite all the olfactory horrors I just described.

Given all the time I'd been spending with Nichkhun since that summer, I'd gotten to know his mother and stepfather pretty well. They were nice people, easygoing, and generally upbeat. Very much like Nichkhun. I didn't know much about his father and stepmother other than what I heard form Nichkhun, because they had moved to United states, I think to Nevada the week after we'd met. It turned out that was part of the reason Nichkhun moved into my building. His parents each had an apartment in the same building for years and they hadn't left because they'd wanted to stay close together. But Nichkhun's stepmother took a position out of the country, his mom decided it was time to relocate closer to her husband's job, which was around the corner from our building.

Anyway, I knew Nichkhun's mom and stepdad, so I sat with them at the games and heard all sorts of adorable stories about Nichkhun as a kid or Nichkhun playing sports or Nichkhun breathing or whatever. I took any grain of information thrown my way and tucked it into the place inside that lit up when I thought about the boy next door.

"Third down." Nichkhun's stepfather said during the last quarter of the homecoming game. He leaned forward and rested his forearms over his knees.

I followed his gaze to the field. The players we huddled together, rehearshing for a shoot or exchanging hair tips or whatever the they did when they were all sweaty, pressed closed together, and bent over. I tried to adjust myself without being obvious and then picked up my camera and stood.

"I'm going to snap some shots." I said

Whenever Nichkhun saw my projects for photo class or art, he always said they were gorgeous and that I had a great eye. So I had taken to bringing my camera to the games, figuring it was a good opportunity to take pictures of him without coming across like a stalker. The party line was that I was taking pictures to send to Nichkhun's dad. The behind-the-scenes truth was that I got a lot of personal satisfaction from these pictures. I was still trying to figure out how to justify a request for a shoot in the locker room.

"Thanks so much Ewon." Nichkhun's mom said "Nichkhun's father hates that he lives so far away now and can't see him play. The pictures help, and yours always turn out better than mine. Plus, you save me from having to lug a camera around."

"I'm happy to help." I said. And also happy to use my zoom lens to zero in on your son's wearing those ridiculously tight leggings they call pants. The wardrobe designer for football uniforms should win a fashion design award for pulling that off.

I walked over to the railing, lifted the camera to my eye, and moaned. Nichkhun was directly in front of my, bent over, high. Good thing I'd packed an extra role of film, because I used up the rest of the camera documenting Nichkhun's fine posterior.

"Hey. Ewon. What'd I miss?" Sandara asked as she sidled up next to me and too a noisy sip of her soda "Ohhh, I see." We stood hip to hip and watched the game as we shared her drink "Do you think he knows?" she asked eventually.

"Knows what?" I asked nervously.

She raised one eyebrow.

Yeah, okay, so she realized I had a thing for Nichkhun. I'd have to be dead not to. Well, dead or straight.

"How long have you known that I'm, uh..." I my lips nervously. I'd never said the word out loud. We live in a country where people like me are considered either myth or mental cases. What if she didn't actually know? What if she was talking about something else and once she found out she'd hate me? What if-

"That you're gay? I think you sealed the deal when you insisted on doing my hair and makeup for Choi Siwon's bar mitzvah." she said "I'm still getting compliments about that, by the way. Everyone thinks I had it professionally done."

"So you don't mind?" I asked quietly.

She turned her head to look at me "About the hair?" she asked, looking confused.

"No." I said "About the, uh, about me being...you know."

"Gay, Ewon. You've gotta learn how to say it because the awkward stammering is just, well awkward. And why should I mind? Who you like has nothing to do with me. Plus, this way we can ogle football players together." She turned back to the field. "Have you noticed those pants they wear? Oh my God."

"Yeah." I said as I lifted the camera back up. "I know."