Sungmin's life . He isn't one of those privileged, pampered teenagers who whine about their iPhone 5 running out of battery. He isn't one of those immature five-year-old kids who throw tantrums when they don't get enough ice-cream. Rather, he's a twenty-one year old man (no longer a boy) whose life really just hits rock bottom and sinks even deeper every day. His life has ever since he was born; his life all the way through childhood and when he was a teenager; now he's an adult, and his life still . Welcome to Sungmin's life.

Sungmin was born with some kind of eye disease that left him almost completely blind - now, he can only see a little bit with his left eye. His right eye is totally blind with no hope of rescuing; his left eye can only see bits and pieces of black, white and colour. It used to be a little better when he was younger - at least back then he could see fuzzy outlines of people. Not just the shady profiles of their faces, but faint outlines of their features. He could tell who was beautiful and who was not; he could tell when people were happy and when they were angry. Now, though, he can only rely on sounds - he listens to the way they speak and determines their mood for himself. He's given up on falling in love, because after all, who in their right mind would want to spend their whole life with a near invalid?

Definitely not his mother. The moment she realised she'd given birth to a son with a disability, she'd tried to abandon him in the hospital nursery. She'd tried all sorts of ways to get rid of him, like putting him up for adoption, asking her siblings if they'd like a kid, even trying to leave him as a newborn in a nearby dumpster. He didn't have a father to fall back on, either, because he'd run away as soon as he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. Needless to say, he'd had a very traumatic childhood, but he knew it could have been worse. At least his aunt had been kind enough to take him in and raise him till adulthood, caring for him all these years.

Although Sungmin had never known the love of a mother, he had to admit that his aunt was a damn good substitute. She'd sung him to sleep with lullabies every night when he was a child, changed his smelly diapers, fed him disgusting-looking baby purée. It had been especially difficult, since back then he already couldn't see well, and it was torture to get him to sit down for even a moderate period of time. It was much more difficult to get him to shut up and stop flailing his chubby little arms and legs around, but it was most challenging to actually get the food into his mouth. Most of the time, it had ended up in their hair and on their clothes, but his aunt had just laughed and wiped him clean.

She'd sent him to nursery, preschool and kindergarten; elementary, when classmates had bullied and laughed at him for not being able to see; middle school when everyone had gathered behind his back and gossiped about the weird kid with large eyes that didn't seem to focus at anything in particular; high school where nobody gave a anymore yet Sungmin still imagined that he felt judging stares whenever he turned a corner.

After he graduated from high school, he'd never managed to hold a steady job anywhere. Nobody would hire a blind man, because after all, who in their right mind would hire a liability? As his previous employer had said, "It's not that you're a bad worker, kid. It's just that you're almost fully blind, and that makes you screw up a lot. And in this world, nobody can afford screw ups."

Although he was talented, his disease prevented him from being a normal person in so many ways, robbing him of a family, friends, and a job. It was sad, really, to respond to so many interviews yet get rejected at every turn. It was pitiful to have to stumble his way out of the room, leaning heavily on his trusty walking stick, using it to navigate in the constant fuzziness he saw. It was pathetic to have people laugh at him, people who could have been potential friends; it was even more pathetic to have girls pass by him and attempt to hide their gossipy whispers.

"Look at that blind boy over there, he's kind of cute!"

"He's called Lee Sungmin. He's really handsome, but blind boys just aren't my type."

"Yeah. Who would ever want a blind person as your boyfriend? He'd try to hold your hand and end up groping air."

"It's futile, guys! It would never work out, regardless of how good-looking he is."

And they'd scuttled away, oblivious to the fact that he had heard, that his feelings had been hurt for the hundredth time. After all, what were silly girly conversations to a blind man? In fact, what were feelings to a blind man, after all?

After all, Sungmin was sure they'd never know he cried himself to sleep each night, wishing his leaking eyes could do more than just weep.

***

There had been one evening, though, when his life had changed. He’d been sitting with his aunt on the balcony of his penthouse apartment, just sitting there and enjoying the breeze. He’d been trying to look out at the cityscape, trying to admire the beauty in the night lights and zooming cars. Still, all he’d seen were yellow dots and blurry rectangles masquerading as buildings when in the past, he'd seen dazzling lights and whizzing ferraris on the streets below. His aunt had left him alone for a while (“just a minute dear, I’ll go get something for you to eat”) and he’d been so tempted. Tempted to jump and escape. Tempted to let go and free fall, because it was so much easier than clinging on to this pathetic imitation of happiness.

Standing up, he didn't bother reaching for his walking stick. He wouldn't need it where he was going, anyway. Fumbling his way over to the edge, he let his fingers trail over the rough cement wall and all of its cracked glory, letting himself memorize the sensations and textures he'd never feel again.

Climbing up till he was sitting on the ledge, he looked down. Sungmin let himself gauge the distance he'd fall as he sighed. "I hope it isn't going to be painful."

Counting down, he whispered, "three... two..." he shut his eyes, just so he wouldn't be able to see anything. The darkness he'd previously hated was now welcomed, appreciated.

As he was about to say "one", a bright flash went off in front of him, searing it into his closed eyelids. He felt something, someone, rush over towards him, grab him in his (or her?) arms and snatch him off the ledge, back onto safe ground.

It was all very queer, but Sungmin opened his eyes regardless. Who could have grabbed him like that? Who would have even bothered? Certainly not his aunt, she wasn't even strong enough to lift him.

In front of him stood a tall figure, but because of his eyes, Sungmin couldn't see any feature of his clearly. However, what he did know was that the figure was a man, and he did have tousled brown hair.

"Hello Sungmin," the man said, and Sungmin's eyes opened wide at the sound of his voice. As his eyesight deteriorated, he'd had to rely on listening to people's voices more often than ever, and this guy's voice was simply beautiful. It was deep, but not booming, and it was smooth, gliding richly in the air.

"Who are you?? he blurted out, not even caring if he was being rude.

"I'm Kyuhyun," the mysterious figure said. "Your guardian angel."