How the heck am I supposed to answer that?

How does he expect me to react or reply? What is the proper way to respond?

A part of me wants to say, “You can’t become human. You’re an Exon. There is no science or magic that can change who you are.”

The other part of me wants to say, “I don’t know.”

I don’t know.

I don’t like any of my choices.

I try to arrange my thoughts and say, “Why would you ask me that?

“Because I want to know how I can make you happy,” he answers.

Shoot.

I have everyone reason to hate this boy. No, this Exon. No … shoot. I have no idea who or what he is anymore. I don’t know what to call him.

But whatever his label is, I still have every reason to hate him.

All Exons are the same. Wasn’t that my motto? Wasn’t that my reasoning? Why has that phrase suddenly turned into an excuse? Why is it that, as time progresses, I see Luhan more as a human and less as an Exon?

Why?

“You’ve made me happy.” I answer obscurely. I open my mouth to say something else, but my incoherent thoughts fail to translate into words. I give up on trying to reply and sigh.

“But making people happy isn’t the only job of a human, is it?” He asks. His eyes gleam with a light that frightens me. “Isn’t there something else to it?”

“Why the heck do you want to be a human, Luhan?” I impulsively shout. “Where do you get off saying that?”

He stares at me unflinchingly.

“It’s really not that great, all right?” I tell him in an attempt to modify his desires. “It’s not. We think too much, and we notice things we don’t want to. We get uncomfortable about stupid things. And we feel. Why the heck would you want a stupid emotion like feeling? Why would you want to familiarize yourself with sadness and all that? What’s so great about that?”

“But sadness isn’t the only thing you can feel, is it?” He asks me. “You can feel happiness, too. And aren’t those types of emotions the kinds of things that makes being human worth it?”

“It’s not worth it,” I aver. “Happiness? Yeah, okay. So that’s a great emotion. But most of the time, we humans don’t even pay attention to that. All we normally focus on is all the stuff that we really shouldn’t, all this negative stuff that we keep bottled up inside us because we don’t know where else to put it. It , okay? Being human. Being able to feel. It’s not that great.”

I take a large breath and try to clear my head. I’m getting too wired about this. I look at him and try to gauge whether he has understood me, but his gaze is still resolute.

“Then if feeling isn’t that great,” he commences,” … then why am I so envious of you?”

That statement appalls me. The fact that he admits he is envious of me is proof that somehow, some time, a part of him has been humanized.

When did it start? Who played a hand in aiding him to become this way? Was it I? Am I guilty? Did it begin when I called him Luhan?

If that is so, then I am at fault for many things. I am at fault for calling him by his name. I am at fault for those brief times that I forgot who he is.  And I am at fault for allowing myself to slowly grow comfortable around him.

“Luhan … I have a mandate for you.” I clear my throat. When I speak, my voice is hoarse. “Promise me that you won’t ask me this question ever again. Promise me that. Okay?”

I wait for his consent for a full minute. During that time, I stare at the floor and memorize the veins on the patterned tile. I have never properly looked at it before. When Luhan finally speaks, I raise my head and maintain his gaze.

“I promise,” he says. His words sound metallic. Once more, all I see is a machine with a human façade.

“I’m going to my room,” I mumble as I retreat upstairs. I slam the door shut and throw myself against the bed. I am cold and uncomfortable and so many things all at once, but most of all I am confused.

A tiny thought in my head tells me that I should regret what I said. Another tiny thought insists that I did the right thing.

Which is it? Why is it that, at critical moments such as this, my loyalties split in half?

I tell myself that there are many reasons to think that I did the right thing. Exons need to be reminded of their place. There needs to be a significant border between what is human and what is creation. Luhan needs to understand that he is here to assist me, but he is not here to provide anything more than detached interest. He is a worker. He was made to exist for his leaders. He is a manifestation of imagination and science. That is all he is, and that is all he ever will be.

But as I think more about this subject, I recognize that there are more reasons to regret what I said rather than to be content about it. Although I initially did not like Luhan, he has grown on me. The red-gold flickering in his eye that I found annoying has become almost entertaining. His innocence is refreshing, and his na