Everyone needs a friend, even Byun Baekhyun, who sits in the lone corner of his dark, gloomy bedroom. His hair is all ruffled and there are big dark circles just under his eyes. A book in hand, he turns the pages quietly, careful not to disturb the melodic silence of the room.

      Underestimated and ridiculed by his wild imagination, he spends his days sketching a delusional world in only black and white. Empty streets with nothing but broken streetlamps and wrecked out cars with shattered windows. And a man. A tall man with caramel colored hair, although he doesn’t color that part. He has big eyes and an intoxicated looking face. He wore long black slacks and a vest just over his white sleeves. Baekhyun knew this guy. He always visited him in his dreams. He was his friend. A nameless friend.

      Worried about Baekhyun’s drifting in and out of reality, his parents had convinced him to take medication advised by his psychiatrist. It’s to calm him down, they say. They must have feared his frequent tantrums and screams. Baekhyun takes it with no hesitation at all because he knows that he’s not crazy. He’s just . . different.

      He doesn’t understand why his parents are disturbed by his fantasies. The dark drawings, the rebellious clothing, and the melancholic piano compositions. These were his ways of expressing himself.

      Everyone sees him as a child with mental disablities. Others would just look down and pity him while others would glare at him in disgust and detestation. Whispers and snickers there, Baekhyun would cast them a menacing look , walking away in silence.  

      “Handsome boy , he would’ve been. I feel bad for his parents,” they would utter.

      It wasn’t after months in the delusional world did the caramel haired boy escape his dreams and enter reality. He appeared out of the darkness at exactly midnight, wearing the usual black slacks and vest over his white sleeves, folded up to his elbow.

      He kneeled down in front of the boy huddled in the corner, arms wrapping his knees and a fearful look in his eyes.

      He hissed at the boy. “Who are you?”

      “Don’t be scared of me. I’m here to protect you,” the man said quietly, his lips curling into a smile. His eyes twitched and he pulled a face as he looked around the dark , messy room. “Why do you let the darkness take you?” he asked .

      Baekhyun glowered at the man. “The darkness is all I have,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re not here to protect me . That’s what they all say. I’m here to help, I’m here to make it better, but I don’t need help. I’m not crazy,”

      “No, you’re not. I just want to be a companion, then.” The man reached out for Baekhyun’s hand and grinned, his eyes so luminous in the darkness.

      Baekhyun stared at the hand stretched out to him. “Aren’t you afraid of me ? Disgusted ? Don’t I sicken you?”

      Chanyeol twitched an eye and shook his head, smirking. “I’m not like them.”

      Baekhyun held the strangers hand and shook it twice, feeling a tinge of awkwardness. He hasn’t touched anyone in years.

      Baekhyun told him stories about school, how he had quit only a few months ago because of the excessive bullying. He recalled the time when he out because of the many punches being thrown at him. Insane ! Psychotic ! Possessed ! the guy cried out. You deserve to rot in hell, you er !

      Baekhyun hadn’t realized that he was whimpering and his eyes were already welled in tears. He brushed them off with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. He curled his lips and gave out a chuckle. “Society is so ed up.”

      He pressed his hands against his ears and screamed his lungs out. His eyes shut, and he flushed in a pinkish color. A kick here, a kick there. The more he tried to unravel the memories, the more he felt madder and madder. His knuckles were already white against his ears.

      He heard the loud footsteps from the stairs. It was his parents. They were already banging the locked door, begging him to stop. They didn’t understand him. They didn’t understand anything.

      The man held his hands and slowly put them down from his head. He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin atop his head.

      He was still weeping, but the moment he was wrapped in his arms,