"Don't you agree?" 

His life has always been a soliloquy. He talks to himself because he has no one else. No one ever stayed in his life long enough for him to. 

The five year old boy skips happily to his sister's room, knocking on the door before entering. 

"Can I play too?" Kevin asks, noticing his sister and her friends sitting in a circle playing tea party. 

"No, Kevin. Go play somewhere else." His sister says. 

With a pout, he leaves and returns to his own room. Sitting on the floor, he holds his teddy bear's paws. "You'll play with me, right?" 

As though the stuffed toy answered, he smiles, jumping up. He gathers his other toys, arranging them together. 

"We're going to have fun." 
 

----------
 

A scrawny thirteen year old quickly scampers into the washroom, avoiding everyone. He locks himself in a cubicle and seats on the toilet bowl.

Taking out a marker, he drew a smiley face at the back of his hand. Looking at the newly drawn figure, he whispers, "You'll be my friend, won't you?" 

He laughs softly, it. 

No one wanted to be friends with the Asian kid. 

----------

The almost too mignon fifteen year old looks at himself in the mirror. "You can do this." 

Having spent the last fifteen years in the States, he has little idea how to speak his own mother tongue. 

He stepped into the land of Korea and now, he was going to meet his group members. He didn't know what to say; and it wasn't only the language barrier stopping him. 

He hadn't talked to someone new in ten years. 

Uncertainty and nervousness strikes him as he slowly walks into the room he was instructed to. 

"Annyeonghasaeyo." The three boys - his soon-to-be group members greeted. 

He frowns, as he registers the foreign language in his head. Realizing what it meant, he bows hurriedly and returns the greeting. 

He never spoke after. 

He didn't know what to say or how to say it. Sitting aside, he quietly listens to the fragments of Korean he understood. 
 

----------

They were assigned to their dorms, two members in each room. 

He drags three luggage into the dorm, unsuccessfully, as one topples over. Clumsily, he picks it up and painstakingly continues. 

"Do you need help?" A voice asked in fluent Korean. 

Kevin spins around, finding one of his black-haired member who was also his roommate talking to him. The other boy spoke too fast, causing Kevin to be unable to comprehend. 

"Sorry?" Kevin looks at him curiously. 

The other boy only smirks, snatching over two lugagges and bringing them into the bedroom. 

Shocked, Kevin looks with eyes wide open, but nonetheless follows him. 

"Thank you." He formally says, bowing even. He didn't address him - He still has no idea what his roommate’s name is. 

The older boy smirks, lying leisurely on his bed. "Why do you talk so little?" 

"Sorry?" Kevin asks again, sheepishly continuing. "My Korean isn't good... I understand not." 

"Oh." The boy nods understandingly, "English?" 

Kevin looks up in amazement. "You can speak English?" 

The other closes the gap between his thumb and index finger. "Little." 

Kevin smiles. Maybe he will have someone to talk to now. 
 

----------

Kibum. Kevin wouldn't forget that name. 

Kevin no longer plays a soliloquy. There's another person in the play now; another character to talk to. There wasn't a need to go solo anymore. 

"Do you remember the first time we talked?" 

Maybe somewhere in the play, the story had reached its . Maybe, just maybe, Kevin had fell for the other. It was genuine; it felt so real and unbelievable Kevin refused to acknowledge. 

"Yeah." Kibum pulled Kevin closer to him, away from the traffic as the two strolled along the streets of Seoul. "I helped you with your luggage that you stupidly dropped." 

"I wasn't stupid!" Kevin protested, slapping Kibum's left shoulder. 

Kibum laughed, not bothering about the attacks sent his way. "You still are." 

Kevin pouted angrily, turning his head the other direction and stopped. A sign to show Kibum that he was mad. 

"If you are not going to talk or walk, you're not getting your pizza for supper." Kibum sing-songed, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

Kevin glanced up. "Fine." 

He pranced to Kibum's side, hands automatically wrapping around his. "I want rice cakes on mine." 
 

----------

People come and go; pass by his life like it was a rest stop, then resuming to their journey, forgetting him. 

He accepted that, till he met Kibum, befriended him and contracted a disease named "love". It was incurable, deep-rooted into the bottom of his heart. 

Just this time, perhaps someone was here to stay with him, to be a permanent cast in his play. 

He was wrong. 

Kibum left, they all do anyway. 

Kevin cried that night, the following night, the week after. 

"It's okay," Kevin sobs, "What's wrong with being alone?" 

He wipes his tears away and smiles to himself. "I'm happy right now, aren't I?" 

He wasn't. And he left his group - Xing. 
 

----------

He would just tear off that page from his script and toss it away. Pretend that chapter in his life never existed, that all along it has always been a soliloquy. 

He joins a new group, wanting to begin writing his script where he stopped off. 

He was doing fine, scripting a new scene in his play. He gets along well with the other four members, but never well enough to give them a proper part. 

He continues his soliloquy. 

Three months later, they had been notified that there was a sixth member joining them. 

The new member steps into the room, welcomed by the other four. Kevin looks, the familiar features of the new member shocking him. 

Nonetheless, he walks forward and introduced himself. 

"Hi, Kibum hyung." 

This time, Kevin wasn't about to give him a role in his play. 

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Note: The literature nerd in me reveals again.