(WINWIN POV)

I came to this country when I was a minor. I depended on a person I was deeply in love with and ran away from home with him.

My family in my home-country is an affluent one.

They would rather kill me than let me disgrace the family name and according to my mother, me being gay was a disgrace.

She loved me dearly which is why she urged me to run away.

She didn’t mind me being runaway so long as I lived.

I last saw her when I was 16.

 

But I had no regrets.

I was going to live.

I was going to live with my love.

 

But then he betrayed me.

I figured he wanted my affluent family to water his plants.

 

I was heartbroken, that was when I got into alcohol and cigarettes. They were a better comanion than he was.

The low I felt because of him was quickly replaced with the highs of addiction.

I was heartbroken.

And right before my 18^th birthday I received the last packet of money from my mother.

 

I was also broke now.

 

I was at my all-time low,

I didn’t have money,

I didn’t have a job

And I didn’t even trust people.

 

My life changed for the better when I got a part time job.

I wasn’t a weak built so I bagged the job of a ward boy at a university hospital.

I couldn’t afford the entire rent with my salary and so I posted a request for a housemate.

I promised myself that other than the sharing of the rent load, I wouldn’t engage in any conversations.

In a few days’ time, I met a person who agreed to my terms.

Leechai.

He introduced himself the day he shifted.

I couldn’t bother remembering his name.

It was big though he was fairly shorter than his name.

 

“Since we are going to be housemates, can we like exchange numbers and stuff?” he suggested.

“You have your own keys and I have mine. I don’t think we need to exchange anything more than only our names…” I said.

“What if some problem pops up?” he said.

“Deal with the problem on your own…” I said and left.

 

I was at peace.

My rent was halved but my life was still as it was before.

No need for interactions.

No needless conversations.

No friendship.

No dependency.

No love.

No heartbreak.

No further trust issues.

 

My perfect checklist

My perfect life

 

But after months of peacefulness, it saw the end.

 

I returned from an overly exhaustive shift from the hospital.

I took out my keys.

 

After two failed attempts, I figured the lock was changed.

I was nearing the last stage of my patience.

 

I took out my phone.

I didn’t even have his number or anything.

I rang the doorbell, knocked on the door at first and then banged on it.

After a painful 10 minutes, he opened the door, my small housemate with the big name.

 

“What is wrong with the lock?” I almost yelled.

“I lost my house keys.” He said casually.

“…and?” I wanted a better explanation.

“Didn’t you say to deal with your problems on your own…I got the lock changed, got a new key, problem solved!” he said and leaned against the doorway. “Things would have been different, if I had your number…”

“Type then…” I said.

“What?”

“My number,” I said and walked to my door after he saved it.

“Shi Chen…” he called out.

I was too tired to correct him.

“The new keys,” he smirked and threw them at me.

I had a pressing feeling.

He was walking to his room.

What was his name again?

Chitta…yakul? Lee…chai?

“Leechai…” I shouted and he turned back.

“Yes…”

“You didn’t really lose the keys, right?”

He looked at my face for a bit and then looked away.

“Yes…” he said and quickly shut the door.

 

 

It started there.

The interactions, the dependency,

We became friends.

But not later than that, I started noticing things about him which blurred the lines of friendship for me.

 

He was different.

He was sincere.

And that was attractive.

 

But I promised never to tell him about me being gay.

I didn’t think our friendship was deep enough to test the waters.

And then one day I saw him during my shift…

…at the entrance of the emergency ward, with his thigh bleeding

“Please help me…” he cried and fainted.

I rushed and caught him.

 

 

The doctor told me that his injusry was deep.

“It’s as if he punctured his thigh with a chopstick or something that thin,” the docor continued. 

“He is not into self-harming…” I said quickly.

“Then maybe someone else did this to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he did not do this to himself then I’m positive that somebody else did this to him… You should talk to him. It doesn't seem accidental.”

 

 

The only places he ever went to were his part time job, and the classes.

While I made sure that he rested properly at home, I went to his work place and tried to read the atmosphere and the people.

After a few days of visiting and a few conversations, I was convinced that they held no malice against him. In fact he was almost invisible. Not involved a lot.

 

I went to the art department.

I asked around and learned about a certain Kim Seoyoon who was his grading professor. She was a celebrated artist. Others were probably jealous that Leechai got to take the her classes.

 

I looked for her office and went to her in hopes of learning something.

 

She was not in her office but something else in there caught my eyes.

There were paintings all over the place. It reminded me of his room back at home. He loved painting. But something about her paintings made me want to avert my eyes.

Painful expressions on the faces of people, tormented, heartbroken, depressed.

 

 

Among those strangers there was one familiar face.

No not one.

There were several.

Different angles of that one pain-stricken face that belonged to Leechai.

Tears in his eyes

The fear

The distress

The hurt

I looked around for something. Anything. I couldnt bear to look at those. I found a bottle of paint and smeared it all over the canvases. I destroyed them. The potrayal was so real it pained me. One couldn't have painted  it without a good look at his face.

 

I found the culprit.

 

“Who are you?” a voice called and so I turned to look at the person.

”Are you Kim Seoyoon?” I asked.

“I am but who are you?”