This bathroom stall is disgusting.  The lights above me flicker lifelessly (a few are out completely). An extremely repulsive odor wafts in the air, a mix that consists of feces, urine, the smoke of drugs, and some other ingredient which I cannot place. Illegible graffiti painted in various colors marks the territory of foolish teenagers that have no sense of propriety. Grime covers every inch of the door, walls, and floor, turning the possibly once white surface into a grayish brown.  There is no toilet paper.  I suppose that last bit is okay though, because I did not come here to use the bathroom.

A cockroach crawls by, and I crinkle my nose.  

I am unable to keep myself occupied by evaluating the horrible conditions of the small room for very long, and soon thoughts of the real world come flooding back.

I am lost.  

I do not know where I am, or where I am going. I didn't bother to think about that since I started running.  All I know is that I'm in some gross bathroom in some gross gas station in a city I don't even know the name of. I wonder how far away I am from my "home".

I take a moment to berate myself for not thinking ahead.  However, the anger dissipates quickly; despair and hopelessness overpower every other emotion. 

The first tears come without my knowledge.  It is only when I hear a choked sob echo in the dank space do I know that I am crying. I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the flow of hot saltwater, but the result is fruitless.  Finally resigning, I bury my face in my hands.

I do not know how long I had been crying for when I realize that I am not alone. I didn't know how long the other had been there either, and only realized that there was someone else in the bathroom with me when a voice called out hesitantly.  "Hello? Is someone in here?"

I glare at the floor for the interruption, and try to control my breathing.  I assume that I while I was crying, my throat decided to utter noises, which probably alerted this person to my presence. 

Something occurs to me.  It was a male's voice.  In a female's restroom.

I quickly check the cheap watch strapped loosely to my wrist. 12:08 AM

A guy in a woman's bathroom... at midnight... that's suspicious.

I hear the sound of footsteps approach.  What is with this guy?

He raps lightly on the door.  It trembles slightly under each knock.  

"I'm going to come in now."  He says carefully.  Unfortunately, the lock on the door was broken, just like everything else in the goddamned bathroom, so only the weight of my bag prevented the door from moving.  

I cringe at the unpleasant creaking noise that arises from the door's hinges.  He opens it slowly, which only prolongs my discomfort.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I have to clean-" I keep my head down for a few seconds before I finally look up. A thin boy around my age stands before me, with a mop and other cleaning utensils in his hand. He has dark brown hair and small eyes.  His clothes look very old and worn, which admittedly do not match his attractive face.  He stops short when I sees my face.  I smirk slightly; he must not have been prepared for my hideous weeping face.  

"I'll leave then." I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.  I briskly walk away.  I barely reach the door when a hand clamps onto my shoulder. It rests lightly on my shoulder, but the hold is strong.  

I wheel around, and he drops his arm.  He has left his cleaning stuff behind.  I glare at him, then turn to leave again. I start to run this time, certain that he's some kind of ert .  

Unfortunately for me, I manage to trip on a crack or something, and I fall, with barely enough time to extend my arms to brace myself.  Even more unfortunately, my left ankle twists painfully as I fall.  I see the guy jogging to catch up with me, so hurry to get up, but as soon as I put an ounce of weight on my left leg, I crumple and fall heavily onto my knees. I wince in pain. 

Once he is a few feet away from me, the boy looks at me with concern.  I must be a sight to see, with a tearstained face contorted with pain. I look at him in amusement, but then remember who he could be. 

"Get away!" I scream. 

He flinches, but doesn't heed my command.  Then again, what kind of authority did I have over him? I was in an unstable emotional state and acquired a physical injury.  

"Miss, are you okay?"  He offers me his hand, and I notice that he has long, slender fingers.

I look at him in confusion. 

He smiles warmly at me. "I'm Baekhyun by the way."

A/N: So I haven't been writing on AFF for a while (like five months *shakes head*), but for some reason, I decided to start this new fic yesterday.  I've had a lot of ideas bouncing around in my head, and I must admit that this is one of my favorites. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try hard to do so as frequently as I can!  It starts off a bit angsty, but it doesn't stay like that for long.  Anyway, I hope you liked it, and please keep reading!  Subscribers, silent readers, and most definitely commenters are welcome!  Thank you, see you around soon (hopefully)!