Baekhyun is a teenager living a $2-a-day life of poverty. He’s been to three different homeless shelters in three completely different cities in just a year. He’s used to moving from school to school and keeping his head down; he just wants to graduate high school so he can start supporting his mother. So when he moves again, for the fourth time this year to a distant relative’s home in a little suburban town just outside of New York City, his mother promises that this time, they’ll be there for awhile. At least, long enough to finish Baekhyun’s last year of school. But Baekhyun’s mother has made this promise thousands of times, and something disastrous always happens. So Baekhyun is determined to keep his head down when he attends his new high school. He doesn’t want to make any friends that he knows he’ll have to say goodbye to later, and he doesn’t want to get into any drama that’ll just worry his mother.

This plan doesn’t work out for Baekhyun this time. Honestly, he’s not even surprised that he skews so far off his plan. Ten schools in nearly four years? The plan was bound to fail at some point.

It starts when Baekhyun walks into his new high school for the first time. He stands out immediately. All the teens around him look well-dressed, well-fed, well-loved. Privileged. As opposed to Baekhyun’s hoodie (which hasn’t been washed in months because, well, his mother couldn’t afford to wash any of his clothes at the laundromat). His jeans are wrinkled and stained with grease from the multiple soup kitchens his mother has taken him to within the past few weeks. Baekhyun can feel the entirety of the school staring at him. But he’s got a plan. So he pulls his hood over his oily, unwashed hair and tries to find the main office.

And that’s when his plan collapses, literally five seconds into stepping foot in the new school. He feels a hard shove on his shoulder, sending him crashing into the bright red lockers and suddenly, he’s on the floor. With more eyes on him.

“What the hell?” Baekhyun mutters. He glances up to find a bunch of boys in varsity jackets snickering and high-fiving one another. Baekhyun wants to fight back, but then he remembers his plan and how much his mother needs his help right now. So he lets it slide. Always stick to the plan, Baekhyun scolds himself.

And that is his intention until he feels a gentle but firm grip on his arm, pulling him up. Baekhyun looks up to see a boy with doe eyes and a soft smile. Like the other kids in the school, he seems pretty well-off. He’s got a clean hoodie (which he’s drowning in because of his small frame), unwrinkled jeans that fit him well, and the latest design of Converse shoes. The only thing that sets him apart from the rest is his smile and his eyes. So soft, so genuine, so full of kindness and compassion.

“Hey, are you alright?” the boy asks, his doe eyes filled with concern. “That fall looked pretty bad.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Baekhyun mutters. “It’s no big deal, really. It wasn’t even that hard of a push.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” the boy replies, running his fingers through his light, messy hair. “Don’t worry too much about those guys though, okay? They’re jerks and they think that they rule the school or something. I just can’t wait until they’re middle-aged, bitter, and ranting about how much life and how high school was ‘the best time of their lives.’”

Baekhyun nods timidly. “The golden days, huh?”

“Certainly not in this hell-hole,” the boy sighs. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Just moved here from Chicago,” Baekhyun replies.

“Wow. Chicago seems a lot more exciting than this place. You can’t be happy about the move here, can you?”

Baekhyun thinks back to his short time in Chicago. He remembers waking up to the crying toddler in the next bunk over at 4 in the morning and not being able to fall asleep until 1 in the morning because of the noisy drunken old man in the bunk next to his. He remembers going to a defunded school, which he had to walk five miles to get to, where none of the teachers really cared. He remembers accompanying his mother on her job hunts every weekend, waking up before sunrise only to come back to the shelter long after the sun had set with no job offers. He remembers the empty feeling in his stomach that lasted for days, sometimes weeks. He remembers the layers of sweat and grime building up on his skin from days going unwashed (he had to share a dirty bathroom with twenty-five other people in the shelter and most of the time, there was just no access to running water and no money for even the cheapest bar of soap). Baekhyun shrugs. “It was fine, I guess. City life really isn’t as glamorous as it seems. Suburban life might be a bit better.”

“Well, suburban life isn’t as glamorous as it seems,” the boy says. “Anyway, you’re probably looking for the main office, right? I can show you the way.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, um…” Baekhyun trails off when he realizes that he never caught the boy’s name.

“Lu Han.”

/*/*/*/

It turns out that this school is the complete opposite of the other ten high schools Baekhyun has attended. The teachers here actually care. And they teach. What’s that about?

It’s unfortunate in Baekhyun’s case that the teachers actually care this time because he doesn’t have glasses and can’t see the whiteboard. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem for him since, in his other schools, nothing would be written there. Or there wouldn’t even be a board to look at. But now, he’s sitting in AP Biology and he can’t see squat. And, because Baekhyun is just that lucky, the teacher calls on him. At least, that’s what he assumes as he hears his named being completely butchered.

“Um, Bacon,” the teacher calls. “Can you explain to the class what this diagram is depicting?”

Baekhyun looks at the whiteboard only to see a blur of red and blue colors. He looks back at the teacher and shakes his head no.

“Surely you can tell us what this diagram is,” the teacher presses. “It’s quite basic.”

“I, um, I can’t see the diagram, sir,” Baekhyun mutters.

“You’re in the front of the classroom,” the teacher says.

“I don’t have glasses. I can’t see,” Baekhyun replies, silently praying that this teacher would just leave him alone and move on to torture some other kid.

Of course, Baekhyun’s prayers are completely ignored as the teacher continues. “Did you leave your glasses at home? Would you like to call your parents so they can bring you your glasses?”

Baekhyun sighs internally. He doesn’t want to expose his social class to the whole room. He’d rather be judged by his personality rather than how much money his mother has in her nonexistent bank account. “I don’t have glasses,” Baekhyun repeats and then says in a quieter voice, “I can’t afford them.”

A few snickers come from the back corner of the classroom where a few boys wearing varsity jackets are sitting. “Did you hear that?” one of the boys says not-so-quietly. “This kid can’t even afford a pair of glasses!”

“Can you guys shut up?” a boy sitting in the desk next to Baekhyun says loudly. The boy is abnormally tall, towering over half of the class despite being slumped over the desk. His dark hair is slicked back with some kind of product but unsuccessfully as locks of his hair are sticking up. He’s glaring at the group of jocks with his cold, dark eyes. “Why not look at the state you guys are in before judging someone else?”

“That’s quite enough, Kris,” the teacher says. “Let’s get on with class, shall we?” The rest of the his words become a blur as Baekhyun turns to the kid, Kris.

“Hey,” Baekhyun whispers. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replies, smiling grimly. “Those guys are just being s as always. They don’t know when to shut up. I’m Wu Yifan, by the way. The teachers all call me Kris because they can’t pronounce my name, those uncultured s. And your name is...Bacon?”

“Byun Baekhyun. Not Bacon,” Baekhyun says. He discreetly gestures towards the teacher. “That guy deadass just stared at me for a good minute when I told him my name.”

Yifan laughs quietly. “Yeah that’s going to happen with basically every teacher you have here. Most of the kids around here with non-white names usually go by a different name. Throughout my freshman and sophomore year, I insisted that they called me Yifan, but I just gave up when they couldn’t get it right. I had sixteen different teachers throughout those two years and literally none of them could pronounce my name even remotely close to what it is.”

“Isn’t America so great? So much diversity and acceptance,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes.

“Without a doubt,” Yifan grins.

/*/*/*/

The next period is the one period Baekhyun has been dreading all day: lunch. He has nowhere to sit, no one to sit with, and no food to eat. He enters the cafeteria with his hands plunged into his jeans and his hood covering much of his face. He stands at the entrance for a few seconds, looking around the room for an empty table to sit at. But then he hears his name being called. “Baekhyun!” a familiar voice says. “Hey, Baekhyun!” The new student looks to the direction of the voice. It’s Yifan.

“Baekhyun, come sit with us!” Yifan calls. Baekhyun walks over to the table and takes a seat in between Yifan and a tall, dark-haired boy who doesn’t bother looking up from his phone.

“Hi,” Baekhyun awkwardly greets the nine other boys at the table. “I’m Baekhyun.” They all greet Baekhyun politely, each of the nine boys taking turns introducing themselves. The dark-haired boy on his phone next to Baekhyun is Sehun, and next to him sits Jongdae, an extremely loud and enthusiastic boy who looks a bit like a dinosaur or a camel (Baekhyun can’t decide). Next to Jongdae sits Minseok, a boy who is apparently the oldest of the group even though he looks like he’s twelve. Beside Minseok sits Tao, a cat-like boy, and then Junmyeon, a boy with seemingly maternal instincts. Jongin and Kyungsoo sit together and they had both been too absorbed in their conversation to even realize that a new person had joined the table. The boy sitting on the other side of Yifan is daydreaming when his turn to introduce himself comes around. Yifan taps on the boy’s shoulder gently and the boy snaps back into reality.

“Hey, Baekhyun,” the brown-brown haired boy says. He offers Baekhyun a dreamy smile. “I’m Zhang Yixing. But you can call me Lay like all the other teachers do. Yifan tells me that you just moved here from Chicago. How long have you lived there?”

Baekhyun gulps. It’s a seemingly simple question but it’s difficult for Baekhyun to answer. Never in his life has he stayed in a city for more than five months. “Um, just a few months. My mom and I move around a lot so we never really stay in the same place for a long period of time.

“That sounds so nice,” Yixing replies sweetly, his warm eyes filled with kindness. “You must’ve seen a bunch of places by now. I’d love to travel more often.”

“Didn’t you just come back from Paris last week, Yixing?” Sehun asks without looking up from his phone.

“You’re such a big bully, Sehun,” Jongdae teases the freshman. “What would Lu Han say?”

“What would I say about what?” the doe-eyed boy asks as he takes a seat in between Sehun and Jongdae. The table watches in amusement as Sehun’s head shoots up from his phone, blushing furiously.

“Hey, Lu Lu!” Sehun smiles sweetly, giving the other boy a quick hug. “How’s your day been? Is everything okay? Has anything new happened?” Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow as he watches the scene unravel in front of him. Sehun had seemed so distant and bored with everything when Baekhyun had met him just five minutes ago and now, the poor freshman is flustered, his ears practically glowing bright red.

“Woah, kiddo, that’s a lot of questions to answer at once,” Lu Han grins, ruffling Sehun’s hair, making the younger boy’s ears glow even brighter. The older boy looks over and spots Baekhyun. “Oh, hey Baekhyun! I’ve seen you met everyone already. I think we’re still missing one person, though. Has anyone seen Chanyeol?”

Just then, a tall boy with gigantic ears and almond-shaped eyes stumbles over to their table and seats himself between Sehun and Baekhyun. The boy stands out from the rest of the group. Baekhyun doesn’t want to be mistaken, everyone sitting around the table seems incredibly nice, unlike the varsity jocks he had encountered already twice that day. But this boy just seems abnormally kind. He’s like a little ray of sunshine as he flashes a bright, toothy smile towards the group. Baekhyun watches as the boy, presumably Chanyeol, runs his hands through his red hair. He’s kind of cute, Baekhyun thinks.

“Gosh, sorry I’m late you guys,” the boy apologizes. “I was stuck at the nurse for forever.”

“Oh my god, Chanyeol. Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” Junmyeon asks, his eyes growing wide.

“Wow, calm down, mother,” Chanyeol grins. “All is well. I just had a bit of an accident in gym, that’s all.”

“What did you do now?” Minseok deadpans.

“Nothing, really. I just kinda tripped over my own feet,” Chanyeol replies.

“And?” Jongdae says, knowing that the clumsy tall boy somehow made the accident worse.

“Crashed into the bleachers and knocked myself out for a solid five minutes,” Chanyeol mumbles. “But it’s no big deal really. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Hm, doubtful,” Yifan remarks, earning a gentle slap on the arm from a dreamy-eyed Yixing.

Chanyeol snorts and turns to see Baekhyun. His eyes widen in surprise having not realized that there was a complete stranger there to witness the story of his clumsy accident. His ears redden a bit as he gapes at Baekhyun, which earns him a harsh poke from Sehun. “Um, you’re the new kid, right?” Chanyeol says, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’m Park Chanyeol.”

“Byun Baekhyun,” the smaller boy replies. “I just moved from Chicago.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Chanyeol exclaims. “I actually had an internship there over the summer. Which part of the city were you in?”

“I was in the South side,” Baekhyun says.

“The South side? Isn’t that part of Chicago pretty dangerous?” Tao frowns. “My dad has told me really scary stories about what’s happened there. I couldn’t sleep for days after what I heard.”

A lump forms in Baekhyun’s throat. He doesn’t want to be known as that poor new kid who moved from Chicago because he and his mother maxed out their stay at a homeless shelter.

Sensing Baekhyun’s discomfort, Chanyeol (what a saviour) jumps in quickly. “Tao, you can’t sleep for days if you find a spider in your room,” the boy says as he turns to Baekhyun. “I’m telling you, this guy is impossible. Once, he called me at four in the morning because he found an ant, an ant, on his bed. He was sobbing and it literally took me an hour and a half to calm him down. I don’t think I had been more pissed in my life.”

Kyungsoo, the short boy with huge eyes, finally snaps out of his conversation with Jongin when he hears this. “Tao. An ant? Really?” Kyungsoo questions.

“Tao, you know Chanyeol already doesn’t get enough sleep. Why do you think he’s so clumsy all the time? You could’ve called literally any other one of us if you had a problem. Even if it was just an ant,” Jongin lectures. The boy has a harsh tone, but Baekhyun can tell that he means well.

“Oh, hell no, Nini. You are not going to lecture me about not getting enough sleep,” Tao says furiously. He points to the huge dark circles under his eyes. “Do you see this ? Do you see these bags under my eyes?”

The whole table erupts into conversation, the boys teasing each other and giggling amongst themselves. Baekhyun takes a deep breath. That was too close. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Chanyeol watching him.

“Hey, thanks for that,” Baekhyun whispers to Chanyeol, ensuring that none of the other boys can take part in their conversation.

Chanyeol shrugs slightly. “It’s no problem, really. You don’t have to tell us anything you’re uncomfortable with. Just know that we’re all here to listen. We’re not like the other kids in this school. I mean, yeah we’re privileged like the rest of the lot but we actually care, you know? We have morals and feelings and stuff.”

Baekhyun nods. “I really appreciate that, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol bright smile falters a little bit when he sees that Baekhyun is the only person in the whole cafeteria that doesn’t have food in front of him. The poor boy looks hungry. “Hey, do you want half of my sandwich?” Chanyeol offers. “I wasn’t really planning to eat much of it.”

Baekhyun takes the half from Chanyeol’s hands and smiles gratefully. Maybe his plan had gone out the window, but he couldn’t be happier. Because he has finally found a group of people that actually care about him. A group of people that are kind and supportive.

Baekhyun knows that Chanyeol (who’s still wearing that blinding, gorgeous smile on his face) is watching him as he devours the first food he’s had in nearly a week. But he doesn’t mind being watched by the cute boy.