Baekhyun leaned against the chain link fence outside of a bar, putting on his best defiant gaze, the one that usually drove the clients crazy.   His birthday was coming up soon, and he wanted to make a little extra so that he could take you out to eat.  Sure, whenever he came by, he’d find something to fix--that weird noise in your dryer, the clogged filter in your washer, that rusty showerhead that had only let through three drops of water at a time--but he was still highly cognizant of the fact that he took a lot more from you than you gave back, and now that he had asked for the respect that came with being an oppa, he was keenly aware of the fact that he had new responsibilities.  He didn’t mind.  Somehow, having a sense of responsibility toward you made him feel oddly safe.  Like he had to make it, so that he could be there to help you.  He was pulled from his reverie when a young, well-dressed woman approached him.  Fixing his gaze on her, and lifting an eyebrow, he smiled inwardly when she faltered, before continuing.  

“Do you have some time?” she asked casually, reaching into her purse, and pulling out a cigarette, lighting it between long, elegant fingers, nails a refined shell pink tipped with bone.

Inwardly, he cringed.  He hated being in close confines with someone smoking.  A little light smoke on the air was fine, but when you were stuck with it in a small space, it got into your clothes, your hair, and was annoying to have to wash out before seeing the next client.  Despite his inner thoughts, he smirked down at her.  “For you, baby, I always have the time.”

Drawing on her cigarette she gave him a cool once-over.  “What’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“Mmm, is that right?  How’s...Jongsuk?”

“Jongsuk sounds just fine.”

“So, Jongsuk.  How much for the night?”

Now that caught his attention.  Clients willing to pay for a full night were few and far between, and always preferred, as dealing with one person was always less energy intensive.  Slipping his hand around her waist, and turning his body to the side, so that she was hidden by him from people coming down the sidewalk, he tilted his head.  “Depends on what you’re into.”

“Nothing too crazy.  Just the usual.   I’m willing to pay extra for aftercare and cuddling.”

He named his price.  

With a sideways tilt of her delicate pink mouth, she exhaled the smoke from her lungs, though, thankfully, away from him.  “Sounds fair.”  Looking him up and down again, she chuckled.  “You’re so pretty…  Don’t you know that you could ask for a lot more?”  When he didn’t say anything, she shook her head.  “My car’s over here.  Mind if I take you home?”

“Lead the way.”  Before he could take a step, however, a heavy hand clapped on his shoulder, arresting his progress.  

“Walk away, child.”

Baekhyun shivered at the authoritative sound in the voice, his knees weakening when he recognized it.  Despite his jelly legs, he wanted to break free, wanted to run away, but the strength of that grip was such that he knew he couldn’t without causing a scene.  Eyes widening, the client looked behind Baekhyun before spinning and quick-stepping to her car, the clop of her high heels almost absurdly loud as it thundered in his ears, echoing the pounding beat of his heart.  “Ajusshi,” he said weakly, before he was spun to face the last person that he wanted to see in this situation.  

“Come on,” Suho said shortly, not particularly giving Baekhyun a choice as he dragged him away from the bar.  He took Baekhyun to a nearby small, dark hole in the wall restaurant, and slapped a menu in front of him.  “Order.”

“I’m not hung--”

“Order.”

Baekhyun ordered.

“More.”

“Ajussh--”

Suho glared.  “You’re underweight for a grown man.  Every time you come over, your stomach is growling.  Your stomach is growling now.  Order.” Baekhyun’s eyes slid back down to the menu, which blurred as he tried to read it.  His voice was stuck. Suho cleared his throat.  “You used to like ramyeon.  Grilled mackerel, and kimbap.  Kimchi noodles.”  Turning to the waiting ajumma, he ordered all of these.  When she left, he turned back to Baekhyun.  “Now.  You’re going to tell me everything from the beginning.  From when you disappeared after your parents died.  And you’re going to tell me the truth.  Go.”

Baekhyun did.

By the time he finished, Suho’s expression was still gruff, but his hand was warm as it reached across the table to pat Baekhyun’s own.  “What happened...it wasn’t your fault.” Baekhyun pushed around a half-eaten slice of kimbap. “Yah, eat it, don’t play with it,” Suho grumbled, leaning back to take a deep drag of water before slamming the glass back down on the table.  “Byun Baekhyun, I want you to forget everything that you were ever told.  You’ve passed the geomjeonggoshi; that’s good.  Didn’t you know that one of the benefits of being a refugee from the North is a free ride to university and grad school?”

Baekhyun stared back at him, eyes wide.  “I didn’t...I didn’t know that…”

Suho cursed under his breath.  “Well, it’s true, so start thinking about it.  You don’t have to do this.  You’re still young, you can go anywhere you want.  Do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple--”

“What’s not simple about it.  Do you have any responsibilities?  A wife, children, parents?”

“No-o-”

“Are you in debt?”

Baekhyun raised his chin.  “No.”

“Your body is healthy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I want you to unlearn every negative thing that has been poured into you for the last ten years.  You can do...anything that you want to do.  You are smart.  You are strong.  You are capable.  Don’t let your mind keep you in a box.”

Baekhyun sat back, breath knocked out of him.  Suho was right.  He had been an adult for a long time now.  Yes, he had a scar, but his decisions since then had been on his own.  And if...if he had access to an education...there was nothing and no one standing in his way except for himself.  He didn’t have to keep doing this.  He didn’t have to do this.

“Aren’t you tired?”

He was.

“Aren’t you angry?”

He was.  He leaned forward.  “But, ajusshi, even if they’ll pay for school...I’ll have to keep on to make rent, and buy food.”

Suho shook his head, clenching his jaw.  “Not just tuition, Baekhyun.  You’re entitled to room and board, too, for as long as you’re in school, as well as a stipend for school supplies.  All you have to worry about is studying, and figuring out what you want to do afterward.”  Baekhyun leaned back, staring off into the distance. “Yah, finish your food before it gets cold,” Suho scolded.  

“Ajusshi...don’t I still have to take Suneung?”

Suho frowned, sighing.  “Yeah.  You will.”

They stared at each other.  

“Then, perhaps...just a little longer.  Just for while I study for the exam,” Baekhyun murmured.  

“Baekhyun--”

“No, Ajusshi.  You’ve,” he swallowed, “you’ve given me a lot to think about.  And I want...I want to change.  I want my life to change.  I don’t want to keep doing this… But I’m practical.  If there’s an end to this, then I want it.  But I recognize that to go where I want, I’m going to have to work a little longer.”

Suho frowned at him, but nodded.  “Alright.  But the end is in sight.  Always remember that.  If you want it, you can climb out of this cheap and dirty hole.  You never belonged here in the first place.”

“You’re not going to arrest me, are you?” Baekhyun asked with a smirk as he speared a piece of grilled fish.

Suho fixed him with a look.  “Don’t be fresh, or else I’ll come out of retirement just to teach you a few things.”

***

You opened the door, yelped and jumped back.  Pressing your hand to your heart, you glared at Baekhyun.  “Oppa, you scared me!  What are you doing here?”

He walked inside.  “Close the door, or you’ll let in all of the cicadas, and you’ll never be able to sleep again.  Why are you so dressed up?”

“I have a date.”

He paused, crouched over from where he was removing his shoes, turning his head to look up at you before straightening.  “A date,” he echoed.

“Yeah.”

“With whom?”

You shrugged.  “It’s sogaeting.  Some ajusshi the halmeoni across the street knows.”  

“He could be anybody!”

You rolled your eyes.  “I doubt across the street halmeoni would set me up with an organ harvester.  Although…”

“What?  What?  What, although?!”

Shrugging, you chuckled. “Well, he is a cardiothoracic surgeon, so...I guess he is kind of an organ harvester…”

“If he’s so great, then why is she just now mentioning him?  Could it be senile dementia?  Does she even know this guy?”

“Oppa!” you chastised.  

“I just think that it’s interesting that she has known you for your whole life, and is just now mentioning this great doctor.”

“He was just divorced.”

“A divorcé?!”  His voice broke.

“Yes.” Narrowing your eyes, you glared at him.  “So?” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, but said nothing.  “Anyway!”  You fluffed your hair, and then gestured for him to continue into the house.  “I have to go, but there’s food in the fridge.  Help yourself.  Make yourself at home, or whatever.”  With that, you gently closed the door, and headed for the restaurant.

When you returned, Baekhyun was lying on the couch in your grandfather’s pajamas, and one of your face masks, watching a drama and eating Choripdong popcorn.  Chuckling at the sight, you came over, lifted his legs, and sat down, before putting his calves on your lap.  He held out the bag to you, and you took a handful.  

“Did across the street halmeoni give you this popcorn, too?” he snarked.

“Don’t knock it, you know it’s tasty.”

“You’re the first person under 70 that I’ve ever seen eat it.”

“And you’re the second.”

“It is delicious,” he admitted begrudgingly.

Looking around, you noticed that your place was suspiciously shiny.  “Did you clean?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.  “Felt like it.  Wanted to eat your snacks.  Tit for tat.”  Smiling charmingly, he turned to look at you.  “How was your date?”

You shrugged.  “It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah.”

Sitting up, he moved to face you.  “What was wrong with him?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”  His tone was suspicious.  

“Nothing.  He was a perfectly nice ajusshi.”

He winced.  “How old?”

“40.”

“Aigoo…That’s practically old enough to be your abeoji.”

“It’s fine,” you said softly, turning to watch the TV.

“Is it?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged again.  “He was kind.  Polite.  Gentlemanly.  He has a good job.  No children.  What more could I ask for?”

“Was there…” Baekhyun waved his hand in a circle.

You watched the movement.  “Was there a waving hand?”

“Chemistry!  Wow, really, this girl!”

You blew a raspberry.  “Chemistry is irrelevant.”

“For a date?”

“For a marriage.  He’s able to take care of a family, he’s faithful, intelligent, kind, respectful, and thankfully my relative youth gives me enough social capital to turn his head.  What more could I ask for?”

“What?  Youth? Social capital?  Was this a date, or an accounting meeting?”

You waved a hand dismissively.  “I’m under no illusions as to the kind of men that I can pull.  Halmeoni was right--I’m not getting any younger, and if marriage is something that I want to do, then I need to be realistic.  My age and this house are the only things that I have going for me, and he doesn’t even need the house.”

“Did he say that?!”

“Of course not!  He was a perfect gentleman.”

“But there were no sparks.”

“I don’t need sparks.  Reliable, dependable steady warmth is good enough for me.”

“What did he look like?”

You hesitated.  “He was slender.  Good teeth.  Good skin.  He had all of his hair.”  Baekhyun looked dubious, and you sat back, sighing.  “Look, oppa, when you look like this, you get what you can get, and you’re happy with it.”

He gave you a once over.  “You have cute eyes.  And when you smile,” he smiled as if in remembrance, “it lights up your whole face.  You have good skin, too.  And your hair is really pretty.  You always smell nice,” he added as an afterthought.

“Thanks, but you’re my friend, so your opinion doesn’t count.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Nominally.”

“Wench!”

You chuckled once more at your ability to rile him up.  You lived for it, honestly.  “He’s 40, Baekhyun.  He’s mature enough to realize that beauty isn’t everything.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “Why does that sound like a quotation?”

“Because he said it, but honestly?” you shrugged.  “It was the truth.  You can’t take offense to what’s true.  I am not beautiful.  I’m not even pretty.  I’m above average, at best.  And that’s okay.  People keep saying that everyone is beautiful, and it’s not true.  It’s just not true.  But what is beauty, anyway?  Just one positive trait among thousands.  It’s nice to be beautiful, sure.  But it’s also nice to be kind, or intelligent, or talented at something.  Beauty isn’t more important than any of the millions of good things that a person can be.  So I’m not beautiful, so what?  Literally, so what?  I’ll never be pretty.” You shrugged.  “So what?”   Smiling, you patted his legs before moving them to stand.  “You know where the blankets are.  I’m going to bed.”  Leaning down, you lightly plucked his forehead.  “Good night.”  After freshening up for the night, you went to your room, closed the door, climbed into bed, lay down, and pulled the covers up to your neck.

You stared at the dark ceiling, a tear slowly slipping down the side of your face.  

The next morning, you were somewhat surprised to see Baekhyun still there.  Even more surprised to find that he had warmed up leftovers for breakfast.  In all of the months and months and months that you had known him, you had always been the one doing the cooking.  “You’re up early.  What’s the occasion?”

He shrugged.  “Why not?”

Not having an answer for that, you sat down, accepted the flatware that he handed to you, thanked him for the meal, and started to eat. Baekhyun, for once, only picked at his food.  Noticing his lack of appetite, you raised your brows.  “Do you want something else?  What would you like?”

“Hm?”  He looked up from where he had been staring at the daegu tang, a distracted look on his face.  “What?  No.  No, this is good.  I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighed, smiled sadly.  “I want to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.”

He was silent for several moments.  Then, with his expression shuttering, he put down his spoon.  “I want to tell you...about how I...started...this.”

You paused mid-chew.  Swallowing, you leaned back, took a sip of water.  “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said softly, tapping his fingertips against the table.  “I told you...that my parents died when I was 16, and that I dropped out of school.  What I didn’t tell you is that...I had a therapist/education counselor.  A psychologist.  Refugees don’t often get to go to mental health services, but this was a new thing that they were trying, and I was one of her first patients under this new program.

“My psychologist...was new to the program, but she wasn’t new to the field.  She had been working for almost 10 years before she started, and I used to stare in fascination at all of her diplomas on the wall…  She...was very pretty.  I liked her so much.  Very...poised, she was very much in control.  At all times.  I went to see her for years…

“She had always been nice, but when I turned 16, she became even nicer.  She started giving me allowance, saying that she knew how hard it was to be a teenager, and to be sure to only spend it on treats, and not to tell my parents, so that they wouldn’t feel guilty that they couldn’t give it to me.  Sometimes, she would bring me treats.  Cake, or ice cream.”  He smiled in remembrance.  “Bing-Bing was my favourite.  My parents weren’t very physical.  Growing up in the North, too much affection from parents to children was frowned upon.  I knew that they loved me--they had risked everything to give me a better life, and they showed it in a hundred ways every day, but they rarely touched me.  She did, though.  Hugs, and pats.  She would always... my hair…”

Sensing where this was going, you started to regret having eaten anything at all, as nausea unsettled your stomach.

Baekhyun cleared his throat, looking around as if he were trying to figure out what to say next.  “When my parents died, I ran to her.  You don’t know how many times I wish that I had gone to ajusshi, instead.”  He chuckled ruefully, a dark, mirthless, despairing sound.  “But I didn’t.  I went to her, and I cried and she...she...kissed me.  She kissed me, and she touched...me, and I was so confused, but she was an adult--I trusted her--so I just did what she told me to do.  She took me home…

“A few weeks later, she told me that she wanted me to meet someone, and she introduced me to a friend of hers.  That friend took me home.  Kept me for a few months.  And that friend had a friend.  And that friend had a friend.  And that friend…” his voice gave out as tears dripped down his cheeks.  “I just wanted someone to take care of me.  I was alone, and no one loved me anymore.  I just...wanted someone to care about me.  But, in the end, all they wanted was what I could do for them.

“Three years later, I finally came to the last friend.  And then I was out on my own.  And I didn’t know what to do.  I went back to her, found her again, and said that I had aged out of the refugee program, so there were no longer any funds available to support me.  She said that, with the way I look, I should avoid the military, since I would only be bullied there, as a defector.  Told me horror stories of…” He trailed off, looked away. “Well...I’m not going to go into that around you.”  He sighed.  “She...advised me that I should do...what I knew best.  I didn’t know much.  I feel like I didn’t know anything.  But I knew how to do...that.

“And I did.  I did it for years and years and years…” his voice trailed off.  “I felt like time never moved.  Like I had been living like that forever, and would live like that forever..  Sometimes she would come visit me.  For old times’ sake, she said.  Every time she touched me, it burned like acid, but she was the closest thing to comfort that I knew.

“And then...one cold night, you were there.  You were there, and you were warm, and you took me home, and you never made a move on me.  You fed me.  You gave me a coat.  All this time, you’ve known me, what I am, and you’ve never once judged me, or hurt me.  You’ve been...my friend.  The only friend I’ve had since I was 16 years old.”

He inhaled sharply and looked at you.  “You’re beautiful.  Don’t let some bitter old ajusshi, who has no idea who you are tell you what he thinks you are.  I’ve seen thousands of women, and the dirty hearts they have on the inside make them ugly.  You,” he tilted his head, looked at you consideringly.  “You’re like a stained glass window.  Pretty, sure, but it’s when the light shines through that you are seen for what you truly are.  And what you truly are, is beautiful.”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe.  Like your ribs were constricting your lungs, your heart.  “Oppa…”

He smiled.  “Oppa’s alright now.  Oppa’s fine.  Oppa’s working on things to make a better life--” he cut himself off with a smile.  “Don’t worry.  I’m going to retire.  I’ve been talking with ajusshi, and he let me know that I have options.  So, I’m working on that.  I’m going to work hard to ensure that I’m a friend that you can be proud of.”

You couldn’t help it.  You started to cry.  “I’m already proud of you!  You’re a good person!  You’ve always treated me well.  I feel better for having had you as my friend.” 

“Alright, alright, stop crying,” he said, frowning, and looking away.  “You should never cry.”  He shook his head.  “You’re not as pretty when you cry.”

Cry-laughing now, you punched him in the shoulder.  “I hate you!”

His grin was teasing as he flickered his tongue at you.  “You love me, because I am delightful.”

“You’re annoying!”

“Your favourite annoyance.”

“I hope all that popcorn makes you constipated.”

“Wow….I can’t believe that you’re my friend.  You’re so vindictive.”  He ducked as you threw a discarded soy sauce packet at him.  “And violent.”

“I’m going to beat you up.”

He snorted.  “Yeah, I’m really scared of someone smaller than a grain of rice.”

You growled.  

“Ah, that’s right!" Leaning forwawrd, he cradled his chin on his palm, grinned charmingly at you. "Have you thought any more about getting that dog?”

***

A whistle caught your attention, and you looked up from where you were talking to ajusshi.  

A sharp-edged Baekhyun--all tight, ripped jeans (which you know he hated, preferring to slip into pajama bottoms every time he came over), and broad shoulders straining a black tee and blue leather jacket--sauntered over and smiled gently down at you before turning, his expression completely blank as he faced ajusshi.  “Ah, so you’re the ajusshi who keeps sending her home alone in the dark,” he said with a bland smile.  Hello,” he bowed politely, “I’m Byun Baekhyun.”

“Hello, Baekhyunsshi,” ajusshi said calmly, bowing back.  “My name is Kim Jaehee.”  Looking at you, he raised an eyebrow.  “Who…?”

“I’m her oppa,” Baekhyun answered before you could speak.

“I thought that you said that you were an only child.”  Ajusshi turned questioning eyes toward you.

Giving Baekhyun an unamused glance, you quickly corrected the misunderstanding.  “He’s not my real oppa, he’s just...a neighbourhood oppa.”

“I see…” ajusshi said, nodding politely.  “Well, Baekhyunsshi, we’re all adults here, there’s no harm in me sending her home alone.  After all, she only lives a few blocks away.  I know that when you’re young, the world seems big and new and scary, but when you get to be my age you realize that most of the dangers seen around every corner are only in your own mind.  But, if it bothers you that much,” he smiled cordially, “then you can send her home tonight.  It comforts me to know that I’m putting her in safe hands.  Well then,” he bowed again.  “Goodnight.”  He looked down at you.  “I’ll see you again next week.”

“Yes,” you agreed, bowing politely.  “I’ll be going first.”  With that, you turned and started for home.  

Baekhyun fell into step beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets.  “I don’t like him.”

“Fortunate then, that you don’t have to date him.”

“He’s condescending.”

“You were being aggressive.”

“Me?!” he said in shock, his hand pressed against his chest.  “I was the soul of politeness!  I introduced myself first!  I bowed!”

“So you’re the ajusshi who keeps sending her home alone in the dark,” you mimicked, lowering your voice to parody his.  

“I know that when you’re young, the world seems big and new and scary,” he countered, making his voice high and reedy.

“He doesn’t sound like that!”

“That’s all I heard,” he retorted, shaking his head lackadaisically.  “So condescending.  I don’t know how you stand it.”

“He’s not usually like that.  You have to admit that you came off a bit aggressively.”

“I’ve never been aggressive a day in my life!” he protested.

Spinning, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him down close to your face, looking up with a playfully belligerent scowl.  “Don’t you ever, ever, ever do anything like that ever again, understand?” Grinning up at him, you paused when you saw his deer-in-the-headlights expression.  Suddenly realizing how uncomfortable this could be for him, you quickly let go and took a step back.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.  I didn’t mean to distress  you.  I shouldn’t have grabbed--.”

“No, it’s fine!” he said, waving his hands.  “I don’t mind.  I was just...surprised, that’s all.”

Smiling--relieved--you crouched, pretending to punch at his stomach.  “Of course!  It’s because of my certified deadly hands!  Grown men cower in fear!”

Even though you hadn’t touched him, he doubled over, pretending to cry in pain.  Your stomach growled. He paused. You rubbed your middle ruefully. “Why is your stomach growling?” he asked, straightening.

“Ajusshi took me to a traditional tea ceremony.  It was nice, but we didn’t eat much.  Just a few rice cakes.”

Baekhyun nodded, staring off into the distance before his eyes refocused on you.  “Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

“Early congratulations!” 

He cocked his head.  “Let me take you out for a meal.”

You looked uncertainly at his outfit.  “Aren’t you working?”

“Not anymore.  Let’s go.”  Baekhyun took you to restaurant row, where a good portion of the city’s restaurants were clustered.  “What do you want to eat?”

“Mm...noodles.”

“Come on,” he said, looking almost offended, “I can do better than that.  Pick again.”

“Samgyeopsal?”

“I can do that.  Let’s go.”  The restaurant was comfortably dark, and filled with the fragrant scents of sizzling meat.  After sitting and looking around, Baekhyun tapped you on the wrist while you were putting out flatware.  “I have to use the bathroom.  I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”  He left and you looked around the restaurant.  The food must be good, because it looked fairly popular--not overcrowded, but there weren’t too many tables or booths left.  A group of red-faced college-aged guys--clearly drunk--bustled into the restaurant yelling for the ajumma.  You internally winced and turned away.  You didn’t like yelling, or loud noises, or crowds, really, and wondered if it would be rude to ask Baekhyun if you could go home and order delivery.  

A body plopped into the seat in front of you, and you relaxed for a split second, before realizing that it wasn’t Baekhyun, but one of the guys from the loud group.  Looking up, you saw the others standing around the table, all attention on you.  

“Hey, you don’t mind if we sit here, do you?”

Putting on your best resting face, you jutted yo