"You won't regret it, I promise."

"Yeah, this song you're talking about better be damn good," Hyoyeon laughed. "I think the last bus leaves in about twenty minutes from here, so I'll have to go and get ready."

"Okay. Hurry!" Sooyoung said, and Hyoyeon couldn't help but laugh at her again.

"Bye for now, Soo," she said before hanging up the phone.

She'd been lying on her bed reading for hours - her favorite thing to do when she couldn't find inspiration enough to write herself - and wondering why Sooyoung wouldn't text her back. The other girl had somehow gotten hold of her phone number - she suspected Tiffany was behind it - which both excited and scared her at the same time.

She had been doing so well with keeping Sooyoung out of her life, and thereby also out of trouble, but since the beach night, it seemed like her defenses were all faltering at the same time. She just couldn't say no to her. Especially not after Sooyoung implied that she might like her, might like her back, which was an absolute first.

Hyoyeon liked the tall brunette so much that the thought of seeing her kept her awake at night. So much that whenever she got herself into trouble with her father, like she liked to put it, the thought of Sooyoung was enough to calm her down afterwards.

At least to a certain extent.

And now Sooyoung had asked her to come over, to hang out, just the two of them, without any connections to school. God knew that hadn't happened a lot throughout Hyoyeon's life, but now it seemed completely unimportant, now that Sooyoung had called her and asked her over.

She got off her bed and walked over to the mirror on her desk; she looked alright. As well as she could, in her eyes. So she straightened out her hair a little, carefully wiped away some smudged-out eyeliner, wondering with absent-minded excitement what the night held in store for her. What was the reason Sooyoung had really called? Was it really only for the song? And if so, what was it about?

Was she going to confess? And if so, what would Hyoyeon do with her words? Her song? Trying to shut Sooyoung out had proven futile, but she still wasn't sure exactly close she wanted Sooyoung to be. The truth was, she didn't think Sooyoung would be able to handle all the trouble Hyoyeon would get into, and would probably end up leaving her sooner or later.

So by not getting together at all, she thought she was sparing them both hurt, but now she wasn't sure anymore. Was there a way to be in a relationship with someone and still not be that close? She wanted to be with Sooyoung more than anything – except maybe keeping Sooyoung out of her trouble.

Either way, she decided that it was unnecessary to jump to conclusions; maybe Sooyoung didn't like her at all, but was just going to play her a song about something else. Fall, perhaps. Depression. Maybe even about someone else.

She walked up to the door that led out into the living room, and paused with her hand on the doorknob. Her looks were okay, she had money for the bus, so now there was only one obstacle left. Her father. The true reason why she hadn't agreed to come over to Sooyoung's the minute she'd been asked.

Last time she had gotten into trouble was right before she left for the beach night. He'd kept going on and on about how she was ungrateful and how she was out of the house so much these days, and how worried it made him. After he was done with her, however, he still let her go. It confused her. But again, she had never understood his way of thinking, how he worked, which was a contributing reason to why she kept getting into trouble with him. Nevertheless, it made her very insecure about leaving the house again for a while.

But at the same time, that day had flown by as a good one. They'd had dinner, watched some TV together, and he had told her some stories of his childhood, speaking with the warmth of someone who's really enthusiastic about their subject. It happened sometimes, those good days - mostly when he was not entirely sober - and that was the case today as well. And in these moments, Hyoyeon didn't hate her father. Not fully.

But those moments were becoming increasingly more like memories, like reminders of a time when things weren't so complicated. The good times were lessening as time went on, and that scared Hyoyeon above everything else.

She decided to trust the friendliness of the day, and walked into the living room.

Her father was sound asleep under a grey blanket on the couch, snoring soundly with the TV on in the background. For a short second the part of her that was still a child jumped at the opportunity of escaping while he was asleep – not needing to ask for permission or even talk to him. That's what she would have done if she was a few years younger, surely, but with time she had learned that avoiding would not help. It would make it worse, if anything. So she walked carefully up to his sleeping figure, crouched down and put a hand on his arm that was covered by the blanket.

"Dad," she whispered. "Wake up."

He stirred and immediately opened his eyes, tired and bloodshot, and the sight made a flick of cold fear shoot through her body at the speed of light. She should have backed down, she thought, but she wasn't going to. Not tonight.

"What?" her father said, the smell of beer unmistakable on his breath. Hyoyeon jerked back as it hit her face.

"I'm going to a friend's. I'll spend the night, so I'll see you tomorrow after school, okay?"

Her father sat up on the couch and threw the blanket off him. Hyoyeon let her arms give way and fell on her down on the floor. "At this hour?" he rumbled, and Hyoyeon stood up again.

"I have to hurry, the last bus leaves soon," was all she said and started making her way back to her room.

"Did I say you could go?" he called after her, not getting up from the couch. His eyes were fixed upon her, unfocused and drunk.

Hyoyeon's heart sank and she stopped in her tracks, turning back to face him. "Dad, I'm eighteen," she said carefully. "And I want to go see my friend."

"'You're eighteen'?" Her father repeated, standing up from the couch. "And that means you won't listen to your father anymore?"

That was it, Hyoyeon knew what was coming. Fear tore at her heart, and she mumbled a "no, dad, that's not—" before he launched himself towards her, feet hitting the floor with the slams of an animal's, an animal chasing her, and she half screamed, a high pitched squeal, as she ran the short distance back to her bedroom door.

While she pulled it open, he reached her, grabbed her arm and pulled her back, away from her haven. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked her, squeezing harshly around her wrist, the old bruise still not fully healed felt like it was about to break under his grip. With his free arm, he slapped her across the cheek with the back of his hand, and the pain seeped into her face like poison, quickly rushing in all directions of her body.

It had been a long time since he hit her in any place that was visible to the rest of the world, but Hyoyeon still remembered. First the back of the hand, then the fist. And the fist was always worse, despite the biting pain that came from his slaps. Tears of pain filled her eyes as adrenaline pumped through her, and she tried to wrestle her arm out of his strong grip, pulling it towards her with all her might, over and over. Her father looked almost surprised at her outburst of strength, but then he hardened his hold further, and Hyoyeon screamed.

"Let go," she pleaded, panic filling her up until she was seeing stars and she used her heel to stomp as hard as she could on his feet – the first kick missed him completely and hit the floor with a torturous bang, but she collected herself and soon his cries of pain filled her ears.

She upgraded her movements to kicking at his ankle, and when she saw him looking down and focusing on avoiding her kicks, she put all her strength into getting her arm back. She reached out her free hand and put it on his chest, pulling back with all her might, and then she was free. Her arm slid out of his grasp and she launched herself backwards, practically flying back into her room to find shelter. She slammed the door and locked it as quickly as her shaking hands would allow her.

The door handle was pulled down almost the second she managed to lock the door, and she swore profusely, left outside. She sank down on the carpet, holding her aching and pulsating arm and trying to think clearly. Her father started banging on the door, demanding her to let him in. Every object in her room seemed to shake along with his hammering, and Hyoyeon stared at the door in fear. Would it hold?

"I don't want to break this door down, Hyoyeon," he called. "Let me in."

you she thought, holding up her cold hand to her stinging cheek. It was red hot.

A few minutes ago, she had thought to herself how she didn't hate her father - hell, how she at times even looked up to him like any child should their parents - and now she was curled up on her bedroom floor, wishing he would be dead.

"You can't hide in there forever," he droned on, and Hyoyeon saw the inevitable truth in his words. "You'll have to come out and talk to me eventually."

"Go to hell!" she screamed back, and he instantly stopped banging on her door. A tiny part of her - the part that wasn't completely overcome with fear - relished in the feeling of victory as he didn't reply. If it was possible, she'd just made everything worse for herself, but she didn't care right then. She stood up from the floor.

She needed to get out. She needed to go to Sooyoung like she had planned, but would she be able to catch the last bus? Time was wearing very thin, not to mention the fact that her father seemed to be outside guarding her door. He would never let her go. He would chase her forever, and she couldn't run any further than the bus stop.

So that meant she had to escape without his knowledge.

She tried to think quickly, ignoring the way her hands shook. She probably wasn't coming back in a while - she hoped - so what would she need? She stumbled over to her desk, pulling out every drawer and searching them through as fast as she could, throwing out stray papers on the floor around her. There was some money, money that she'd saved up to buy a guitar sometime in a very distant future. It was all she had. The bills were collected in an envelope, and she folded it as well as she dared and stuffed it into her pocket. She did the same with her cellphone before grabbing her wallet from her desk, and then she paused and looked around.

There was nothing else she wanted to bring. Nothing she wanted keep or even remember from her childhood, from her life living in this house, with her father or her mother. The thought pained her, but she didn't have time to think of it. The fact that her father seemed to have disappeared worried her greatly.

She took one last glance around her room, looking sadly around at all the posters of singers and actors around her walls, all staring back at her with eyes that seemed to plead with her to stay. All those posters that her father had been so greatly opposed to her putting up.

She turned her back to them all and walked over to the window, opening it and staring out into the darkness below. It gave a loud creaking and she halted her actions, pushing it up slower and praying to whatever force that was listening that her father would not hear it. Her room was on the first floor, thankfully, but the bushes beneath did not look too inviting. She'd jumped out this window so many times as a child, so she collected her breath, grabbed a firm hold of her wallet and let herself fly through the cold evening air.

She landed in the bushes with a thud and lots of rustling, and she stumbled out of them, struggling to keep her balance. She saw in the weak light from the window how her white socks immediately got dirty, and her feet turned cold in the blink of an eye. Crouching over, she leaned against the red wall and started running with her back bent. She rounded one corner, and though she couldn't see it in the darkness, she knew the main road was about fifty meters ahead. The muffled noise of the TV reached her as she hurried on, her feet hurting more with every step she took.

When she sneaked around the last corner, she feared she was going to pass out from fear. Her heart beat so hard it hurt, and little green and pink spots were dancing through her field of vision. She leaned against the wall before rounding it, taking a few deep breaths and looking past it carefully to see if her father was there.

It was much brighter there at the front, with two lamps on either side of the white door lighting up the closest area. She saw the broken swing and how it swayed deadly from side to side, saw the light reflecting in the windows of the three cars, but her father was nowhere to be seen. So she bent over again and hurried up to the small porch, the gavel pressing into her feet as she ran.

She quickly found what she was looking for; she knew there was an old pair of worn-down converse sitting out there that her father had thrown out along with some other broken shoes so they wouldn't take up space in the hallway. Throwing things away - and cleaning, for that matter - seemed like unknown concepts to him.

She crawled on all fours up the steps and grabbed the shoes. And she was just about to turn around and run down to the bus stop when the door opened, and Hyoyeon jerked backwards in shock, flying down the steps and landing heavily on her back. She lost her breath.

Her father stepped out on the stairs, and to her surprise, he threw her jacket out the door. It flew only a couple of meters, and floated down onto the ground by Hyoyeon's feet.

"If you leave now, don't ever come back," he yelled, voice raspy. "Do you hear me? Don't come back!"

Not needing to be told twice, Hyoyeon rolled over on her stomach, gasping for breath, and kept her eyes locked on her father up in the doorway while she grabbed her jacket swiftly. She put the collar in , her shoes under her one arm and her wallet in her hand, and ran for all she was worth, into the darkness where her father couldn't see her, into the unknown, into a kind of safety she had never known.

She put her shoes on at the bus stop, thanking her lucky star that she arrived two minutes before it was supposed to leave. Not only was she thankful that she caught it on time, but the fact that she only had to wait for two minutes meant she didn't have to worry for so long about her father coming back and taking her home.

When it arrived, she got on it and chose the seat in the far back. The bus was mostly empty apart from her; there was a reason the buses didn't leave that often. No one really lived out there.

The shoes were uncomfortable, too worn-down to hold her up properly, and there were holes in the sole. The black leather of her jacket was dirty after it was tossed onto the ground. Those were the thoughts Hyoyeon tried to keep in her head while the bus took her into town excruciatingly slowly, giving her too much time to think about what had just happened.

Her father had thrown her out. He had told her not to come back. And she really didn't plan to – who knew what would happen if she did go back? And what would happen now? She'd go to Sooyoung's place, and she'd tell her what happened, Sooyoung would allow her to live with her for a while and lend her clothes and –

That's when it hit her for the first time. She had nothing. A little money, not really enough to get anywhere, no clothes, no home, nothing. All she had was a pair of broken shoes and a dirty jacket.

So what would that mean for Sooyoung and her mother? If Hyoyeon just showed up, appearing like she demanded them to take care of her...

That phone call she had shared with Sooyoung only half an hour ago, and those feelings of joy and excitement that had all been crushed, seemed like they had disappeared several hours ago. How foolish she was, to allow herself to get worked up over things like love and thinking that caring about somebody could ever be enough.

She stared out the window as tears filled her eyes, and she was happy that the bus was mostly empty. She was glad she was alone.

And it really needed to stay that way.

So when the bus arrived in town, she didn't get off the bus at once even though it was the last stop. She stood by the door and looked out carefully, scanning for a tall figure among the streetlights, but she didn't see anything. So, she took a deep breath and ran out in the cold air to the nearest bus, checking the green numbers on top – 49 – and stopped by the door. The chauffeur, a middle-aged man that bore no resemblance what so ever to her father, seemed to be falling asleep at the wheel, and he jerked in surprise when he saw Hyoyeon outside, standing by the door like a ghost.

She asked him quickly where the last stop of the bus was, and he told her it was a city almost on the other end of the country. The bus ride would take eight hours, so they'd arrive at approximately six in the morning.

It was perfect.

Hyoyeon paid the somewhat expensive ticket with a big part of the money she had. It pained her a little, but when she walked back through the dark aisle to once again take her seat at the back of the bus, she had no regrets. She knew this was the way it needed to be done.

A boy a few years older than Hyoyeon, and an elderly woman were the only people apart from Hyoyeon herself that got on the bus. They both sat near the front, and Hyoyeon lay down on the multiple seats in the back, pulling her knees up almost to her chin so the chauffeur wouldn't be able to see her feet.

She didn't feel a thing when the bus rolled into motion ten minutes later, and she didn't sit up to take one last look at the city she grew up in, but just closed her eyes. Memories flooded her mind anyway, but only some made it up to the surface. Memories of getting into trouble because she stayed up too late on the last night before school, memories of feeling her fingers crack as her father yelled at her over the way she behaved in the store, memories of hiding in the school bathroom with inadequate foundation and blush to try and cover up bruises.

But she didn't cry. She felt like she had no reason to. Finally she was leaving him behind, leaving him and the way he had always held her back from experiencing, from feeling, from living. Wherever she'd end up now, she would be homeless, but it seemed to her that having a home was much too overrated. If it was a choice between the home she had, and no home at all, she would gladly live a poor life any day.

And then there was Sooyoung. The thought of her made Hyoyeon open her eyes, but she didn't want to look out the window. Wonderful, trusting Sooyoung, who'd do anything to help her. Who'd give up anything to be with Hyoyeon.

At least, that's what Sooyoung herself thought, but she didn't know. Hyoyeon knew that. Sooyoung had never had to deal with anyone like Hyoyeon; someone with bruises both on skin and soul. She didn't know what it would take, if Hyoyeon would ever completely even heal.

She couldn't put Sooyoung through that. It was too much. This was the way it had to be, and the way it was going to be. It was going to be okay, no matter what awaited her in this new town. She just knew.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and one look at the display told her that Sooyoung was calling. Her heart hurt. Sooyoung would be out there now, naïvely waiting for her to arrive, and Hyoyeon would never come. She pulled out the battery, and didn't care about putting it back. Maybe, somehow, they could talk to each other again, but for now, it was best to try and forget each other forever.

Even though it would never be possible.





"Last stop."

Hyoyeon lay curled on the seats in the far back of the bus like she had for the past eight hours. They passed without her knowledge.

"Miss, wake up. We're at the last stop."

Hyoyeon woke up with a start to find the bus driver bent over her, and she jerked back only to hit her head on the window. The man stepped back at once, pretending he didn't see her clumsiness, and instead looked down at his feet.

"Oh, okay," Hyoyeon said awkwardly, sitting up on the seats, disoriented and not understanding how eight hour could already have passed. She'd slept without waking up even once.

The bus driver gave her a slight nod before retreating to the front of the bus. Hyoyeon wasted no time and hurried through the empty bus to the door, feeling the fresh air hit her face as she stepped out.

She looked around for a moment. She was standing outside what she assumed was a bus station, and a door opened as soon as she stepped down onto the sidewalk. She eyed it suspiciously, her tired mind not in the state to make any difficult decisions right then. She remained where she was standing for a bit, but as the door kept opening and closing, waiting for her to walk through or walk away, she finally gave in and let it pull her in.

The station was a little bigger than that of her home town, but not hugely so. When she entered the main hall she noticed that you take both trains and buses from the station, but they didn't leave very often.

The hall wasn't big either, and there weren't many people there. Hyoyeon assumed part of the reason was that it was before sunrise - the sun was just about to come up as she walked into the hall and saw through one of the windows how it rose outside, orange and red and beautiful, but painful to Hyoyeon's eyes. The people the hall were either running around madly trying to find the right train or bus, or they were yawning on the clump of benches in the middle of the room.

Two minutes in the room was enough for her to conclude that she couldn't stay. Not only did the town seem far too small for her to feel insignificant, for her to disappear among the people, but she also realized that the town was in direct connection to her hometown. Getting on one bus and riding it to the last stop was not enough; she could easily be traced. She needed to go further.

She had never travelled much with her family, even when her mother still lived with them they'd never gone far away from home. Hyoyeon had never been abroad, and neither did she know much even about her own country. But when she searched the 'departures' board and its yellow neon words, she noted the name of a city she knew to be one of the biggest in the country. Probably packed with tourists, she figured, and the thought made her heart beat happily. She couldn't risk being found.

A bus was set to leave to the city two hours later, and Hyoyeon sighed, both in relief and frustration. During the two hours that awaited her she knew she would not be able to stop worrying that somehow, someone would have found a way to follow her, and would appear one step behind her. Maybe her father. Perhaps Sooyoung. Honestly, she couldn't decide which would be worse.

Hyoyeon walked around the waiting room in a big circle in an attempt to pass some time, but the hall was much too small. She stopped by a trashcan in a corner, escaping from the few people in the room. She leaned against it, thinking deeply. How could she make it as easy on herself as possible? She had a little money, most of which she assumed would disappear once she'd boarded the bus to her new destination. Holding up her wallet in front of her face, she studied it critically. If she really didn't have anything, then she didn't want to have to carry anything around that suggested otherwise. Inside it was nothing but a bus pass for school, a library card and some change. Hesitating a little, she shook out the few coins in her hands before throwing the wallet into the trashcan. The cards had her name on it, but it didn't matter if anyone found it; she'd soon be far away.

She was about to throw her cellphone in after it, but stopped herself, knowing that even if she would never see Sooyoung again, she owed her something. She owed her an explanation. And she shouldn't try to run away from that. So she held on tightly to her phone, and made her way over to the benches without looking back.

It took her almost an hour to write her last text to Sooyoung. Not only did she have a hard time finding the right words, but as soon as she turned her phone on her father started calling her. Every time he did, she declined the call, but she was careful when she went on with composing the message, afraid that she might accidentally pick up if he called again. Why that would even matter she didn't know, but it felt like it would be the end of the world right then.

She never wanted to see him again. She didn't want to hear his voice or remember his existence or role in her life for the past eighteen years. And she definitely wasn't going to discuss it with him.

Finally deciding to cut back on all the drama, Hyoyeon concluded that telling Sooyoung she had feelings for her was unnecessarily brutal and heartless. What Sooyoung needed was to forget about her, not wait for her. Because she wasn't ever coming back.

The bus driver informed her that the ride to the new city was going to take four hours, a number that was reasonable to Hyoyeon. Not until the third hour did she finally gather up enough strength to send the message to Sooyoung, and she turned her phone off immediately after she was sure it had been delivered.

That's when she cried for the first time since leaving her home.

She spent the remaining hour on staring out the window at the bright landscape outside, bracing herself as the outside grew increasingly populated and they neared the city. Everything that had been chaos in her mind was slowly starting to settle down, and she felt more numb than anything else. Empty. It was slightly comfortable - at least better than the state of panic she'd been in the previous evening.

She was getting out. Out of her life of constant anxiety, out of her life of constant fear. No matter where she was going to end up, it was bound to be an improvement.

If only she had never met Sooyoung, she'd be happy. If she hadn't met Sooyoung, she wouldn't be so focused on what she was leaving behind.

She unplugged the battery from the phone and kept them in separate pockets.

The sun was beaming when she got off the bus. She was south, far down south, and the air was a lot warmer than up in the girls' hometown. Closing her eyes and facing the sun, she felt the need to take off her jacket, and a dreamy image of sunbathing came into her mind. Knowing she had no more times to keep track of, she took her time to snap out of her fantasy.

The city was everything she had hoped it would be. There were people absolutely everywhere - tourists, most of them, judging from the amount of people carrying cameras with them and stopping every now and then to take pictures. She looked around for a bit, wondering where she was supposed to go next, and the stream of people getting off the bus all headed for the door to the waiting room, so she allowed herself to be swept along.

Hyoyeon decided that she needed to get to know the town that was supposedly going to become her home. She didn't know for how long, but did she really need to? Was there any need to spend time thinking about what would become of her as she grew older? Worrying about the future was a luxury for the rich, she thought.

Hours went by as she wandered the streets, careful to remember her steps and keep track of the things she passed; the stores, restaurants, souvenir shops, statues and people trying to make money by playing instruments on the street. Maybe, Hyoyeon thought, she could also make some money for herself that way. But what was she really good at? She considered her only talent to be music, and it wasn't like she had an instrument. Maybe if she saved up enough money she could...

But the thought was too pressuring, and the sun beamed too brightly, and she pushed the thought of her head. She kept a firm watch of what was left of her money in the envelope she had brought, and walked along with all the tourists, staring in through windows, longing to buy the most useless things just like everyone else, and for a while, she felt like she was normal. Like she wasn't on the run from her own so called family, like she wasn't walking the streets with absolutely no destination. For those hours, to herself and to the rest of the world, she was a seventeen year old girl traveling for the first time without her parents, and she was free.

She found herself back at the station after several hours, but stopped outside, staring at a sign that yelled out "TATTOO AND PIERCING STUDIO" – and oh, she had always wanted to pierce her navel. Of course she had never even voiced the wish out loud to her father - she wasn't that stupid - but this was the first time she'd ever even been outside a piercing studio.

But again, those kinds of thoughts just had no place in her life anymore.

She walked into the station, into the waiting hall, huge and warm and welcoming. Sitting down on a bench among the sea of people, she tried to think of what to do next. Shouldn't she find herself a decent place to sleep? Maybe the waiting hall itself was a good spot, she thought to herself, looking around. She liked being in there, and despite the amount of people rushing through it, not many of them spared her a glance. Maybe she could sleep there for one night, and then explore some more tomorrow to see if she could find somewhere better. The first thing she should do was probably to eat, but she couldn't bring herself to use up more money. She wasn't going to be able to eat every day either way, so maybe it was better to get used to the hunger...

A pair of boys suddenly sat down with a loud thud beside her, as if they barely had enough strength to walk up to the bench. Hyoyeon paid them no attention at first, but suddenly she remembered the phone in her pocket. She needed to get rid of it, but there was something else she had to do first.

She turned to the boys beside her, and had to fight off a shocked expression from her face. The two were both obviously underweight, threadlike, hair tousled and faces dirty. One of them, the slightly shorter and generally smaller of the two, had hair that had probably been dyed a strong red in the past, but it had faded, and was now a sort of sloppy red brown, with several centimeters of black in the roots. He was sporting a worn jacket similar to Hyoyeon's own leather one.

Hyoyeon soon noticed that the boys were aware of her staring, and were looking back at her with furrowed brows. "Excuse me," she hurried pathetically, and the boys raised their eyebrows. "You don't happen to have a pen and paper?"

The redhead looked even more disbelieving at her words. He looked down at his dirty, messy clothes for a second before staring back at Hyoyeon. "Does it look like we have ing anything here?" he then said, voice high and shrill. The boy beside him looked like he wanted to say something, but just looked at Hyoyeon with an almost apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry," Hyoyeon said silently, mentally kicking herself for not knowing better. The redhead stared at her, and Hyoyeon got up off the bench to try and find someone else.

But as she walked up to the man sitting on the bench opposite them, she had to really fight her urge to look back at the two boys she had been sitting with. Were they also homeless? Runaways? If so, they must have left pretty recently, judging from that one boy's dye.

She walked up to a man who appeared to be in his forties, with a briefcase gripped firmly in his hand beside him. "Excuse me, do you have a pen and paper?" she asked again, and the man jerked back at her words, seemingly in his own world.

"Sure," he rumbled, scratching his head before carefully opening his overfull briefcase. "How much do you need?"

"Just a little strip is fine," Hyoyeon replied. The man pulled out a paper from his case and ripped off the bottom part - it looked a bit too official and important for him to rip it that way, Hyoyeon thought - and handed her the piece. He then reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a pen.

Hyoyeon bowed in gratitude and backed a few steps away to get to business, and the man appeared to sink back into his own world again. She pulled out her cellphone and plugged in the battery, and as soon as she turned it on, eight texts welled in, all telling her she had a new voicemail message. Disregarding them all, she hurried to find Sooyoung's number before writing it down on her piece of paper.

She returned the pen to the man, who again seemed surprised when she spoke to him, and went back to the bench and the two boys. Not caring about the looks of irritation the boys shot her - the redhead in particular - when she returned, she sank down beside them and proceeded to unplug the battery from her phone again.

"How are we going to get there if we don't know where it is, and neither of us have the energy to look for it?"

Hyoyeon looked around for the nearest trashcan to throw her phone into, but couldn't help but overhear the whispered conversation between the two boys beside her.

"I don't know."

"It was the only reason we came here, so what are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

She caught sight of one about twenty meters away, but couldn't bring herself to leave.

"Stop saying that!"

"I'm sorry, but I really don't know. I'm as lost as you."

The second boy, whose hair was a natural brown, paused to take a deep breath while the redhead eyed him closely. "I think we should go home."

"Yeah, well, we have no money to get home with."

"I know, but we could get some."

"How?" the redhead demanded. "I don't want to go back to stealing again, I will not sink to that level."

The other boy shook his head sadly, and Hyoyeon couldn't help herself. What did she have to lose, anyway?

"I'm sorry," she said, and the redhead looked up and rolled his eyes at her. "I couldn't help but overhear..."

"Did you try?" the redhead snapped.

The other boy put a hand on his leg that was supposed to be silencing. "Heechul..." he said softly, and the redhead glared at him. "Was there something you wanted?" the brown haired one continued, turning to Hyoyeon. He looked slightly friendlier than the redhead who was supposedly named Heechul, but not much.

"I just have to ask," Hyoyeon said, throwing caution to the wind. "Are you homeless?"

"Why, do you want to give us money?" Heechul spat out. "Otherwise, what's it to you?"

The brown haired boy sighed calmly. "Why do you ask?" he then said, ignoring Heechul's rudeness.

"I..." Hyoyeon mumbled, looking around insecurely. "I am too." The two boys stared at her, taken aback by her words, before looking at her clean clothes and skin in disbelief. "Only since last night," she explained at their questioning glares. "I was wondering... well, how to survive, I guess." She scratched the back of her head, weakly meeting their eyes.

The boys thought for a moment - well, the brown haired one seemed to think about it more seriously than Heechul. "You can't," he said. The other boy slapped him on the thigh.

"Yes, you can," he said, turning back to Hyoyeon. "We have. What exactly is it that you want to know?"

"Anything," Hyoyeon said, relieved. "How do I get money the easiest, what are some good places to sleep, anything."

"Hm," the boy said thoughtfully. "We only just arrived, so we don't know this city at all, I'm afraid... But this station looks alright," he said, looking around and staring up at the high ceiling. "Now that winter is on the way, inside is better than outside, obviously." He glanced at Hyoyeon carefully. Heechul stared at his dirty nails. "We... we heard that there's supposed to be a shelter for homeless people here. There often are in bigger cities like this one."

"A shelter?" Hyoyeon repeated, not fully understanding. "What does that mean?"

"It's... like a place where homeless people can go and find a place to sleep," the boy said carefully, almost like he was hesitant to reveal the information to her. "Sometimes they have food there, and sometimes hot showers, but this one is supposed to be brand new, so it's probably not that advanced yet," he said, and Heechul closed his eyes.

The words were like music to Hyoyeon's ears. "Where is it?"

"We don't know," Heechul said suddenly, and surprisingly calmly, "which defeats the entire purpose of us coming here."

"We'll find it," the other boy said, glaring at Heechul.

Heechul snorted. "We would if we had the energy to walk at all," he said. "We had to save a lot of money to get a bus ticket here, you see, so we didn't eat for a few days."

Hyoyeon cringed. Seeing their thin bodies and hearing them tell her about the shelter - well, at least the brown haired boy - made her wish she could help them. "We could look for it together if you want," she said carefully. "You know, as a thank you for telling me about it."

The boy smiled sadly at her. Throwing a glance at Heechul, he shook his head slowly. "Thanks, but—"

"And I'll buy you both a meal," she added quickly. "To give you some strength back."

Heechul stared at her. "Wait, you have money?"

Hesitating a little, Hyoyeon pulled out the folded envelope from her pocket. There wasn't much left in it, but it would definitely be enough for a cheap hamburger place. The boys' eyes widened at the sight of the money, and Hyoyeon held it tighter. "I have some," she said quietly.

"And you would waste it on buying food for us, two people you don't know?" Heechul questioned. Behind his aggression and disbelief, Hyoyeon was sure she could hear traces of awe and gratefulness.

"You haven't eaten in days," Hyoyeon repeated his words back to him. "If it helps you, it's not a waste." The boys did nothing but stare, shifting their gazes between Hyoyeon's eyes and the money in her hand. "So what do you say?" she asked when they both seemed too stunned to say anything.

"If you're sure, then I'm in," the brown haired boy said, glancing carefully at Heechul to see his reaction. 

"I'm totally in," he said, hugging the other boy's arm tightly and staring wide eyed at Hyoyeon.

They got up from the bench, but stood in front of it, unsure of where to go. "I can't exactly give you a fancy meal," Hyoyeon said, laughing slightly, but the boys both waved their hands dismissively.

"Believe me, we're not picky," the brown haired boy said, also laughing. Heechul hung on to his arm.

"So... McDonalds?" Hyoyeon said with a tilted smile, pointing over to a big, yellow M among the other restaurants at the end of the hall, and the boys nodded enthusiastically. They sat off, the boys supporting each other as they walked slowly and shakily. Hyoyeon wanted to help them, but she felt too out of place to do so. "I'm Hyoyeon, by the way," she said.

The brown haired boy nodded. "I'm Hankyung," he said, voice strained from helping his friend stand. "And this is Heechul."

They took their time eating. Hyoyeon ordered the tiniest and cheapest option she could find, thinking that it was better to get used to it. It was going to be her life from then on. Hankyung and Heechul were the ones dragging it out; Hankyung told Hyoyeon how hard it was to swallow anything after days of hunger. No matter how much you wanted it, it was hard to get their bodies to accept the food.

So they remained for nearly two hours, while the boys shared stories of all the places they'd been, all the cities they'd seen, and how they differed from each other. The more food Heechul managed to get down, the friendlier he became, much to Hyoyeon's relief.

"So do you have any idea where this shelter is supposed to be?" Hyoyeon asked as they stepped out of the restaurant and out of the station.

"Not a clue," Hankyung said, laughing dejectedly. Heechul still hung onto his arm. "It's supposed to be called the Nari shelter, though."

"Hm," Hyoyeon said. They stood outside the entrance to the station and looked around at the crowded streets. The sun was preparing to set, and the earlier heat was slowly turning into a comfortable warmth. "That's alright, we have time, right?" she said, picking a direction at random and setting off.

"That we do," Hankyung agreed, taking Heechul's hand and squeezing it.

They walked together, continuing to share stories, but all three careful not to touch on the lives they'd had before they left their homes. Tiredness was starting to tear at Hyoyeon's limbs.

"How long have you two been, you know..." Hyoyeon said, "away?"

Hankyung and Heechul looked at each other. "I don't know, what month is it?" Hankyung said, squinting. Hyoyeon laughed.

"It's September," she said.

The boys shared a look again, a look that spoke silently of surprise. "So about three months then," Heechul said. His eyes turned big and glassy, and Hankyung gave him a reassuring smile.

Hyoyeon, who felt like she was spying them in an intimate moment, looked away silently. They had told her they were just friends, but she felt it was obvious it was a lie.

They found the Nari shelter when the sunset was shooting beautiful red and pink across the sky, and the first of the evening's cold was starting to make its presence known. Hyoyeon knew she wasn't the only one tired of the three, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw the look of absolute joy in the boys' eyes when they reached their destination.

The place was easy to miss. A sign that said "Nari's shelter" had been put out on the street, but if you, like Hyoyeon, Hankyung and Heechul, would go around looking up at the signs that lined the walls above the doors all around town, it was practically impossible to find.

They went in together, and Hyoyeon suspected the boys weren't very fond of masses of people, judging by their expressions when they noticed how crowded the place was. They froze in place, and Hyoyeon watched them helplessly as their big eyes moved slowly around the room. She thought for a moment of Sungmin, but realizing it was a thought too close to things she couldn't think about, she pushed it out of her head.

There was an information desk in the opposite end of the room, so Hyoyeon grabbed Hankyung's arm and dragged them over. A chubby, friendly looking man sat behind it, and he looked up at them with sincere interest as they approached him.

"Hi, we'd like a place to sleep," Hyoyeon said, deciding to skip over any pleasantries or beating around the bush. The man smiled up at her and quickly eyed all three of them.

"Alright," he said, "that should be doable." He smiled again. "We only have about fifty bunk beds right now, but we have sleeping mats for about one hundred and twenty people. Is this your first time here?" They nodded. "Ah," the man continued, nodding. "A lot of people come here, you see, so if you come back and want to sleep in an actual bed, you'll want to get here in the morning before they're all taken."

They all nodded again, and Hyoyeon looked around the room. 'A lot of people come here' was definitely not an exaggeration, she thought.

"The rooms with beds are all upstairs, but for you three, the room is through there," the man continued, leaning over the desk and pointing towards a door to the left. Hyoyeon followed his directions, and saw a sea of people on thick, black mats through the window on the door. "We can't offer food, clothes or showers right now," he said, sounding very regretful. "We opened last week, you see. But we're currently collecting clothes through a charity, so hopefully soon..." He stopped himself, realizing he was rambling, and smiled apologetically at their tired faces.

They were given small, pink slices of paper, the size of postal stamps, and were told to keep close track of them and not to lose them. "If there's ever a problem with space, too many people for the room and so on, this is your ticket for a bed, alright?" the man said firmly, and they all nodded. "So you don't want to lose this. Any questions?"

The three shook their heads, all too tired to question anything, despite it not being very late.

"Okay, well, if you think of anything, let me know. If I'm not here, then just ask whoever is. I'm Shindong." The three stared blankly back at him, willing their minds to remember his name in the morning. Shindong laughed. "I won't keep you any longer, you look like you're about to fall asleep standing. Off you go." He gestured towards the room again, and they thanked him silently before making their way towards it.

The first thing they discovered when entering the room was that they were the youngest ones, and painfully obviously so. The room was full of people, most of which looked like they had no interest in sleeping at the time. Some of them were lying down, but rarely with their eyes closed, and most of them were sitting up, talking, eating, gazing longingly and pleadingly at each other's snacks. Most of them were around fifty or older, and Hyoyeon thought she should feel more out of place than she did. Nobody paid them any attention when they entered.

They found three free mats beside each other, and sank down on them heavily.

"We should find a way to get some blankets," Hyoyeon mumbled, lying down on her back and closing her eyes. "I've always found it hard to sleep without one."

Heechul lay down beside her, and Hankyung chuckled from his other side. "Don't worry," he said, "you'll get used to it."

Hyoyeon 'hmm'ed, realizing how she must sound to somebody who's slept under bridges for three months. She was lucky compared to them, and probably compared to a lot of other people in the room with them. She was lucky she had met Hankyung and Heechul, lucky that they'd come to the bus station at the same time as her.

A group of people in the middle of the room who seemed to know each other broke out in uncontrolled laughter, and Hyoyeon had to sit up and watch them. They were sitting in a circle, eating and sharing the food they'd come over during the day. The sound of their laughter sounded so natural, so carefree and so calm that Hyoyeon forgot to breathe. The fact that they could still laugh rendered her speechless.

And for the second time in Hyoyeon's life, she felt like she was a part of something. A fellowship, a friendship, maybe even a family. She looked down at Hankyung and Heechul, who were holding each other's hands tightly and speaking to each other with their eyes, and she thought that if they would have heard her thoughts at that moment, they'd probably have thought she was insane. But it really didn't matter. They were there, and she was so thankful for it.

She lay down and closed her eyes again, hoping and wishing that they would stick with her for at least a few days. Maybe life like this wouldn't have to be completely hopeless.

A/N:

Alright, I just want to mention: the hankyung and heechul in this chapter is... well, i used the same universe as i did for this hanchul fic i wrote back in 2011, it's called You're a Freak (and a kissable one at that), so this basically takes place after that oneshot. The more you know! You absolutely don't have to read it to understand, but I just thought i'd tell you guys~