His footsteps echoed down the street, bouncing from cobblestone to cobblestone. The weather was getting cooler as trees started hinting at autumn through their collage of oranges and yellows, their brightness taking over the setting sun behind decrepit buildings.
 

A single flickering streetlamp brought him to a halt. There wasn’t anything significant about it, really. Out of all the perfectly functioning lamps lined up down the block, this one in particular was the only neglected one. It had always been broken, but no one had ever bothered to fix it. It was probably a lost cause.
 

With the turn of a key, the door to his home opened. It was quaint and doable, but not exactly comfortable. Space was more limited than the average Parisian home, with shoulders brushing against walls and heads to door frames. Air conditioning was a luxury no longer available, and with autumn soon to be in full spring, the lack of heat would be faced with as much difficulty as the years prior. 
 

“I’m home,” he called out as if expecting an answer. Luhan scuffed his shoes on the door mat as he slung a worn jacket over the rack. “I’ll make dinner now.”
 

The apartment was silent. Luhan’s voice didn’t even echo. He hopped over to the kitchen and scavenged for a meal, cracking open the fridge to take a peek. 
 

“Would you like bread and jam or jam and bread?” 
 

Again, there was no answer. He sighed. Luhan wouldn’t be able to go buy more food until tomorrow, so anything would have to do for tonight. As he scraped remnants of jam onto the last remaining pieces of bread in the house, he set it down on a ceramic plate and raced to the bedroom.
 

Luhan knocked on the door that was slightly left ajar. There was a slight murmur, so he let himself in, presenting the lonely meal on his plate proudly to the woman on the bed. There was a faint smile forming on her lips, the only part of her body that seemed to have enough willpower to even move. 
 

“Sorry, Mom, but I know how much you don’t like the soup we have right now. I’ll buy something for you tomorrow.”
 

“It’s alright, dear. I know how hard you work every day.” She his hair. “So how was your day?”
 

He let her chew on dinner, patting the old comforter much too tattered to be warm anymore. “Good. How’s your body feeling today, Mom?”
 

“Don’t worry about this old woman. I’m no different than any other day.”
 

“But that’s what I’m worried about,” he said. “That you’re no different from any other day.”
 

She finished her dinner, every crumb on the plate now all gone. Luhan placed the plate on the bedside table scattered with several empty medicine capsules. He started picking them up, one by one, tossing them as close as he could to the trash can on the other side of the room. 
 

“You’ve run out of medicine.” It was more of a statement rather than a question.
 

“It seems so,” she acknowledged. “I’ll be fine for a little while though, sweetie.”
 

He shook his head. “No. You won’t. I’ll need to buy more tomorrow.”
 

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, sweetie. You know that I always want you to treat yourself on the weekend.”
 

Luhan thought back to the bistro. Every Saturday he would go there without fail to comply with his mother’s request: to treat himself to a nice meal every week. It was a bit pricey, but he couldn’t go against his mother’s wish. One day every week he would be promised a meal, and one day every week he would bring home the rest he could afford for his mom. And one day every week, so far, he was promised to meet with Seohyun for lunch. 
 

“I could go to the pharmacy first thing and then buy food afterwards.”
 

“Luhan.”
 

He knew that that meant an absolute no. She wanted the best for him, of course, but he wanted the best for her as well. A hot meal? Certainly. Medicine? Sure. But both? The money in his wallet couldn’t even hope, and neither could Luhan.
 

“Mother, I have a question.”
 

“What is it, dear?”
 

“About my job,” he turned to her. “Are you sure you still want me to do this?”
 

She sat up, or at least tried to. She reached for her son’s hand and then held it within hers, both cold to the touch but now emitting warmth.
 

“Luhan, tell me. What do you have a passion for?”
 

“I could always get a better paying job. Perhaps-”
 

“What do you have a passion for?” she implored.
 

He sighed. “Writing. But-”
 

“Good. That’s all I need to hear.”
 

“But, Mom,” he insisted, “writing isn’t going to bring food on the table. It can’t buy medicine for you, and it most certainly can’t pay the bills.”
 

“But it makes you happy.”
 

There was a pause, one enough to let her know that Luhan had unknowingly acknowledged the fact that she was right. Before he could reprimand her words any further, she shot out a question.
 

“Have you found anyone that makes you happy, dear?”
 

“Hmm?” The question had taken him aback. “Well, yeah, I guess. There’s Sehun - he’s always been loyal to me.”
 

She patted his hand, smiling at his innocence. “No, I meant is there someone you love?”
 

“Why would I love someone if everyone is scared of me, if everyone rebukes me?”
 

“Is that so. Everyone, you say?” His mother frowned. A son’s pain was his mother’s pain, but she couldn’t accept it. “Are you sure everyone?”
 

Luhan stared at the door. It was letting in a draft, an air so frigid that it nipped at his face and clothes. The chill covered his body, a blanket that could eventually numb. The only warmth came from his mother’s hand, still the back of it with her thumb, and it was enough to fight off the coldness trying to devour him. 
 

“There’s one lady that I’ve met a few times, before. I’m sure she’s heard the rumors about me, but...”
 

“But what, sweetie?”
 

“She hasn’t run away. She hasn’t shown me disgust or loathing or anything really. If anything, she comes to me rather than me to her. It’s strange, but I don’t know what to make of it.”
 

“Tell me, then. Can you depend on her?”
 

“Depend on her?” Luhan furrowed his brows. “I’m not sure, actually.”
 

“She’s heard the rumors, but she brushes them away. That to me, my son, is the sign of determination. She’s someone you can count on.”
 

Luhan nodded. He had reasons for not getting too close to her, but he wouldn’t say that now. It would only complicate things for his mother. “Why did you ask if I loved someone?”
 

She looked straight at him with unwavering eyes, eyes that showed no signs of falter. “I just wanted to know if there was someone you could fall back on in times of need.”
 

“By times of need you don’t mean-”
 

“I mean just in case this old woman can’t do anything anymore. I mean just in case one day, you’ll be all on your own,” she said frankly. “A mother needs to know.”
 

“Mom, you’ll be fine. Just don’t say things like that, okay? Please?”
 

He begged her, but he knew the truth. His mother was no longer the strong woman she had been before. The woman she once was was now laying powerless in front of him, bedridden until she could even hope to recover. Day after day, she grew worse than before, drinking her weight in medication every month. She was weak, and she was tired. It was no surprise that such fears and doubts had taken over her mind. 
 

There was more silence, but she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t blame your father for this, Luhan.”
 

“No,” he detested. “I am and I will. The only reason why we’re in this mess is because of him, or because of me.”
 

“Now, Luhan, it’s neither you nor him that’s at fault. No one is.” 
 

He wanted to say more, but there was nothing more to say that the two of them had already known. He wasn’t one to get worked up, usually being calm and levelheaded, so to say more was almost out of the question for him. 
 

“It’s just that our lives...could have been so much easier is all.”
 

Luhan stood up, letting go of his mother’s hand. He picked up the plate that had been forgotten on the bedside table, and watched as his mother fixed her blankets. As he walked across the room to the window, he saw a light flicker. It was the streetlamp from earlier. Luhan stared at it for awhile. It seemed to have been calling out to something, as if it was asking for help, but there was none to be given. The street was empty and so was the sky.
 

“How’s Suho doing, Luhan?”
 

He drew the curtains. “He’s doing really well now. Did I tell you that he’s smiling again?”
 

“That’s very good to hear,” she smiled. “Any specific reason why?”
 

“I’m not exactly sure.” Luhan walked towards the door, picking up the bottles that had missed the trash can from his little game earlier. “But I think he’s found someone to care for, to live for.”
 

“Someone he wishes to protect?” she asked. “Do you also have someone like that, my son?”
 

He smiled, now halfway out the door. “Yea, I suppose. Both of us have someone we want to protect.”
 

Luhan said goodnight, and closed the door behind him. Both of them had someone to protect. That thought had never really come to mind until now, but his mother was right, of course. It was just that the person both of them wanted to protect just so happened to be the same one, but the person that they were protecting her from just so happened to be himself. 
 

Luhan didn’t just want to protect her, but everyone else in his life that mattered: his mother, Sehun, as well as Suho. These people gave him a chance, gave him a purpose, and he wanted to make sure that that purpose would live on. No matter what obstacle would come to obstruct his path, if it meant sacrificing his own reputation, then he would gladly give it away just to make those people happy. 
 

He set the plate down before him, turning on the faucet. As he washed the few dishes that were in the sink, his mind went elsewhere, traveling to some place in the back of his mind that was filled top to bottom with newly awakening thoughts. Too many thoughts overcrowded his mind, so he needed to make some of them known to himself now.
 

“As much as Suho must hate me,” Luhan said to himself, “he certainly doesn’t show it.”
 

He was either too kind or too forgiving. After that whole spectacle with that woman a few years ago, Luhan had been expecting to lose his job. Although that day never came, it had hurt Suho more than Luhan had been expecting. It was a regrettable decision, but it had to be done somehow in order to protect him. That was the ultimate goal.
 

“Is there someone you love?” Luhan reiterated his mother’s words aloud.
 

Yes. There is someone he loves, and he wouldn’t try to deny it anymore. He loved Seohyun, and it was as simple as that. He loved her humble nature, the way she had never put herself above others even after her skyrocketing reputation had unfolded. He loved how she looked for him, had wanted to know him for who he was despite everything she had probably heard from whispers on the street. He loved her smile, her congeniality, and her elegance. Never before had Luhan loved someone, but now life had given him a challenge - a challenge that he had gladly accepted. 
 

“I love her,” he reassured himself.
 

But to expose that fact? He could never allow it. Luhan turned off the faucet and let the dishes sit to dry. Wiping his hands clean with a towel, he switched off the lights and headed to his room, letting his fingers trail along the wall of the hallway. 
 

Of all people, it just had to be her. Luck had never really been on his side, anyway.