Junhong observed from the precipice of the stairs the crowd milling around the subway, like ants in an anthill. The multitude of people rushing from one end to another made the boy feel dizzy as his eyes dropped to the daunting flight of grey steps before him. His mother and brother were already three steps down, their legs working quickly as they squeezed past others. And as the two familiar heads blended into the sea of black hair, Junhong felt adrenaline pump through his veins, giving him the kick he needed to start his race down the stairs.

              With a bright smile, he clutched the snacks his mother had bought him earlier against his chest, and braved the stairs. He began laughing as it turned into a game of tag: imagining zombies chasing him, and believing the subway to be the safe haven.  

            The youngster could see his mother hop onto the car, her soft eyes searching the crowd for him. But he was caught between people, their arms like fleshy prison bars as he tried to squeeze between them. His guards didn’t hold him long, though, as they had places to be and time to save, and as soon as he was freed, Junhong could almost feel the cold air of the car and smell the sweat on those ugly blue seats. Almost.

            A glass barrier slid between him and his beloved mother just as he tried to enter the car. Her usual soft brown eyes dilated and filled with fear and panic, rendering them wild.

            “Mom!” Junhong’s heart dropped like stone in water as his fingers came in contact with the glass, leaving opaque marks as he dragged them along, desperately trying to open the doors. Like the wrong card removed from a house of cards, Junhong felt the world around him collapse, a vision of black momentarily invading his mind. “Don’t leave me!” He felt his throat tighten as his mother desperately pressed the button on the automatic doors. A wave of hopelessness passed through his body and Junhong was pushed to the edge of tears.

            Onlookers everywhere had stopped, their hands covering their ‘O’ shaped gasps as they watched ten-year-old Junhong’s face contort into a deeply frightened expression.

            Despite the sudden blind panic Junhong was in, he felt soft hands wrap around his arm, giving him a soft squeeze.  He looked up to see a teenager, no more than seventeen years old, trying to communicate with his mother through the glass. His plump lips moved in the same way each time, but Junhong couldn’t hear what he was saying. He was terrified; trembling under the older boy’s grip.

            “Hey. Hey, look at me. Don’t cry.” The young man crouched down to face Junhong.  The teenager’s soft hands were hovering hesitantly over Junhong’s cheeks, waiting to wipe away the tears that had gathered in his eyes, sparkling like broken glass. “Don’t cry. I’ll get you back to your mom.”

            Junhong blinked, drenching his lashes in the salty drops as he batted them away.  

            “Take a deep breath.”

            Junhong did as he was asked, inhaling strongly, not taking his eyes off of the older boy’s before him. They were caramel colored and warm, reminiscent of his mother’s. Although the teen was hesitant, he wore a large smile that revealed his gums. Junhong took a few more deep breaths, not daring to break eye contact with those familiar orbs that he could melt right into.

            “Don’t worry okay? I promise we’ll find your mommy. You have my word.” The teenager stood up, rolling the black sleeves of his hoodie until his elbows. “I’m Bang Yongguk, by the way. What’s your name?”

            “Junhong.” He whispered.

            “Junhong, are these yours?” Yongguk picked up the snacks that had fallen to the floor during the boy’s frenzied panic.

            Junhong nodded, a sickening feeling overcoming him. He didn’t care about the snacks anymore; they were a painful reminder of his foolishness and separation from his mother. Earlier that day he had insisted on buying them because he had been hungry, even though he knew his mother was having a hard time paying bills. He stared coldly at them, reliving the sulking attitude he had adopted when he had first been denied them.  He turned to face Yongguk, unable to hide his guilt-ridden face from the teenager.

            “Hey little guy, don’t be scared. These things happen all the time.” Yongguk picked up the milk carton and the chip bag gingerly, wrapping his free hand around Junhong’s slender wrist. He pulled the boy towards a bench, before sitting down and opening the strawberry milk carton. “Thank goodness this didn’t spill. Here, you need to drink.”

            Yongguk wore such a wide smile that Junhong couldn’t help but comply with his suggestion. He took the small white box and brought the opening to his lips. The milk tasted like sweet malice, indulging Junhong in his own sin. 

            He shyly handed the carton to Yongguk, both hands cupping the bottom. “Would you like some?” Junhong did not want to be the only one drinking, consuming his own pain.

            “No thank you.” Yongguk grinned.

            “Why are you helping me?” Junhong suddenly asked. His eyes flew to the white headphones around Yongguk’s neck and the cardboard notepad that sat comfortably in his lap. To Junhong, it seemed that this seventeen year old had better things to do than to do than babysit a foolish child. Although Junhong was thankful for the teen, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by Yongguk’s kindness, when so many other people had walked on by.

            “It’s a scary world out here. Besides…” Yongguk trailed off, his eyes flying to the electronic announcement board. “Oh the next train will be here in two minutes.”

            Junhong blinked but did not push the teenager.

            “Thank you.” Junhong muttered. “I would be so scared without you.” His last sentence came barely above a whisper, like a feather landing on the ground.

            Yongguk turned his attention back the frail boy besides him. “You’re welcome.” He sighed. “I know what it feels like to be lost. Abandoned.”

            “Mommy didn’t abandon me.” Junhong’s words caught in his throat.  Panic rose in his chest but Yongguk interrupted him.

            “No. You’re lucky; your mother seems to love you very much.” Yongguk chuckled and pinched Junhong’s cheek. “Anyways. Do you have any hobbies?”

            “I like playing soccer.”

            “That’s great!” The teenager put his arm around the younger boy. “I like to play soccer too, you know that?”

            Junhong shook his head no. But he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe around the older boy. Yongguk was a mature seventeen year old who seemed to have unimaginable freedoms, and a vast knowledge of the world that Junhong had yet to acquire.

            “We should play together sometime.” Junhong wanted to accept the offer, but he felt he would annoy the cooler, older male.

            “Is that our train?” Junhong pointed to the slowing down subway behind the glass doors that had earlier cut Junhong off from the rest of his family.

            “It is.” Yongguk gripped Junhong’s arm tightly, pulling him along quickly into the first car where they found a seat by the door. 

            Junhong looked around with hollow eyes, scanning the passengers on the car. He whimpered softly as he eyed an old man with clumps of white hair barely even staying on his head. His skin was wrinkled like leather, and dark like he’d been out in the sun for too long. His eyes were watery and yellow, wrinkled bags weighing heavily underneath them. He stared back hungrily at Junhong, who seemed to be the opposite: perfectly smooth, white skin, wide doe eyes, and a mop of healthy black hair that had gotten messy from his run down the subway stairs.

            The boy found Yongguk’s hand and squeezed it for comfort. The teenager looked down at the tiny hand that was gripping onto his fingers, and followed the young boy’s gaze. He saw the envious lust for youth in the man’s eyes, and quickly pulled Junhong on his lap.

            “Don’t look at him, okay?” Yongguk covered Junhong’s eyes and shifted him so that he was comfortable on his lap. “We have five stops. I told your mother five stops, because the other stops are too crowded.”

            “How do you know?” Junhong asked curiously.

            “I’ve been down here a while.” Yongguk said in a serious tone.  

            “Are you trapped in here?” Junhong tilted his head back to meet Yongguk’s eyes.

            “Yes. But not in the literally sense of the term.” The teenager laughed.

            “What does that mean?” Junhong frowned. It didn’t make sense that Yongguk could leave when he wanted but he was trapped. The contradiction made Junhong’s young mind wrap around itself in confusion.

            “It means I can run away as far as I possibly can from here, but I can never escape. This place holds a lot of memories for me, you know?” Yongguk pouted, as if replaying scenes of his past in his mind. “Just like you’ll remember this day I’m sure.“

            Junhong turned back around to face the seats in front of him. Slowly, he felt himself comfortably slink further into Yongguk’s lap, feeling the teenager’s warm heartbeat against his back. “Did you lose your mom in the subway too?” The boy lay his head in the crook of Yongguk’s neck, imagining for a moment that he as back in his mother’s arms, feeling her fingers run through his hair as he slowly fell asleep, rocked by the rhythmic sway of the subway car.

            Yongguk looked down at Junhong, feeling his fine black hair tickle his neck, wondering what to tell him. “No…I didn’t.”

            “When I grow up, I want to be like you.” Junhong sighed, twirling his fingers through his own hair. As he brought his arms up, his shirt rode up his tiny abdomen, revealing a patch of flawless white skin. Yongguk raced to pull down the shirt, eyeing the old man in the corner of the subway who hadn’t missed a single moment of Junhong’s squirming around.

            “You’re better off being yourself, Junhong.”

            Junhong pouted and fought the urge to argue with Yongguk. He really did want to be like Yongguk, kind, handsome, and responsible.

            “That’s a lovely boy you have there.” Hot breath stung the side of Junhong’s face, a rancid scent stinging his nostrils. “What’s his name?”

            Yongguk shifted Junhong so that the boy’s back was practically glued to him. The gentle heat of Yongguk’s hands found Junhong’s forehead as he brought the boy’s head to his chest, securing him tightly. Yongguk’s other arm slithered around Junhong’s waist stealthily as if to strap the boy to himself.

            Junhong dared not look up; he was so close he could practically hear the cracking of the dry, leathery skin. Instead he focused on the black and gold Nikes that adorned Yongguk’s feet and comforted himself in the arms of the sturdy teenager.

            A deep rumble vibrated against Junhong’s frail back as Yongguk began to speak.

            “His name is June.”

            “Interesting name for a boy.” The old man rasped. “But fitting. He looks so delicate. Like a beautiful summer day.”

            Junhong was blind with trust in Yongguk, keeping his breathing steady and his eyes fixated on those Nikes, unsure of exactly where the old man was or what he was doing.

            “Hmm.” Yongguk grunted, pulling Junhong in a little more closely (and Junhong didn’t think it was possible, they were already so close.)

            “His youth is precious.” The old man’s voice came like a double edged sword. “So is yours. Give me the boy, and you can be free.”

            “Never.” Yongguk growled. “Stay away from us. I’ll call the police.” 

            Blood pulsed through Junhong’s ears and time stopped as he felt the old man shift his position before them. He was afraid, so afraid, for some reason, that this mysterious hag would drain away his youth with the touch of a finger. There had been that hungry glimmer in his eyes, the one that lusted after the tenderness of such a sweet age, the one that caused Junhong to fear for his life. But he had to trust Yongguk, and not look at the old man. Trust didn’t come easy to the child, but Yongguk’s soft hands and sincere words had been more than enough to let Junhong take that leap of faith.

            And without fail, Yongguk delivered.

            Junhong felt himself sway violently, off Yongguk’s lap and nearly thrown into the seat beside him. The vacant space between his back and Yongguk’s torso was almost too much to bear for him, who had been enjoying the soothing heartbeat of his protector. The arm Yongguk had previously wrapped around Junhong, however, was still clutching the boy’s shirt.

            Junhong looked back and saw Yongguk with his arm raised above his head, blocking the old man’s grabby hands. As if locked in position, neither of them moved. A spark could have ignited in between their hardened glares. And although Junhong was trembling and doubtful, he could have sworn the old man’s eyes were glowing red. His leathery skin had become more like snakeskin and the nails on his hands reminded Junhong of sharp claws. Yongguk too, was beginning to glow oddly. His body seemed to be made of moonlight as a silver halo radiated around him.

            “The next stop is: Ahyeon. The doors are on your left.” The pleasant announcing voice passed like a breeze through the empty car.

            A deep, animalistic growl resounded from the old man as he tried to break free of the lock Yongguk had put them in. Junhong whimpered and stared with wide eyes as the man’s skin began to turn an inky black color.

            The car came to stop, something Junhong hadn’t fully registered, but Yongguk had. In a swift motion, the teenager kicked the older male, freeing him of the arm lock and sending him stumbling backwards through the car. Without wasting a moment, he picked up Junhong and raced through the automatic doors. Junhong silently prayed that the doors would close quickly to prevent the strange beast from pursuing them.

            Overwhelmed with emotion, Junhong began to cry.

            “Did he touch you?” Yongguk had long since stopped glowing, and quickly stooped to Junhong’s level, his hands running rampantly through his hair, as if to check for any extraneous matters. He pat Junhong’s cheeks and felt his arms, giving the boy a reassuring squeeze.

            “No.” Junhong choked through sobs. “Yongguk I’m scared. I want my mommy.”

            “Shhh. I told your mommy to meet us here. Don’t cry, Junhonggie.” Yongguk brought his hand to the back of Junhong’s head and pulled him into his chest. Junhong felt a rush of comfort come back to him, as he lay his head on the familiar chest, kneading at the teen’s black hoodie.

            “Th-thank you.” Junhong hiccupped as his tears came to a trickle.

            “It’s alright.” Yongguk hummed, Junhong’s hair affectionately. “When we find your mommy, I want you to promise me you’ll forget about that man, okay? Forget everything so that you don’t become haunted by this memory. It will trap you if you don’t.”

            “Is that what happened to you?” Junhong asked.

            “In a way, yes. I was unable to let go. I’ve decided to make something good out of it though.” Yongguk’s voice was distant. “But it doesn’t matter about me, you must forget this okay.”

            “But I don’t want to forget you.” Junhong tugged at the soft black fabric. “You’re my friend. And you saved me.”

            “Oh Junhong. My baby boy!” A familiar voice picked Junhong’s attention. He looked at Yongguk with wide, caramel eyes, almost as if in permission to leave his comforting arms. Yongguk smiled widely, giving Junhong one last hug.

            “Be good, little man.”

            “Sir, I cannot thank you enough.” Junhong’s mother pulled him into a tight embrace, her eyes shining with tears. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

            “Me neither.” Junhong agreed, reaching out for Yongguk’s hand. Yongguk took Junhong’s tiny hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

            “Absolutely. I like to guide those who are lost.” Yongguk said brightly. His smile hid a deeper reason, but Junhong had already discovered it.

            “Come on baby, let’s go home. Thank you.” His mother bowed deeply, making Junhong do the same.

            Yongguk reciprocated the bow, and waved goodbye to Junhong with fervent enthusiasm.

            Dragged along by his mother, Junhong couldn’t help but look back, watching Yongguk grow smaller and smaller as he got further. He saw the train approach, and Yongguk wave a final goodbye, turning his back on the boy as he entered the car. Junhong took scrupulous note of the familiar black sweatshirt, adorned with painted silver wings, like those of an angel, on the back, and promised himself that, of all the day's events he would forget, he would never forget this last image.