“There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it were empty.”

-The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

He never understood why humans wanted to live forever.

To him, dying was a luxury.

But, living or not, the man could have never felt any more lonelier.

He waded through the sea of humans in the crowded city, buildings glued together and scraped the clouds, a wall of windows and glass that seemed to enclose the area. Unlike the busy people around him, he leisurely floated through, his feet striding against smooth sidewalks, forever to be under construction, although there was nothing wrong with them. He hadn't truly grasped an idea as to where he or why he was heading to where he was, his body seemed to act upon itself, as the mind would trigger a hand to wave at an old friend. In a blink of an eye, he found himself in front of a playground.

A smile grazed his lips.

Yes, this place was his friend.

Rotting wood chips scattered on the ground, slides streaked with silver rust, explosions of vivid, violent colors that splashed illegible words on vacant buildings and materials.

His eyes scanned the area.

A tree.

A rusty swing-set.

He nodded to himself.

It was just as it was yesterday.

He found his eyes trailed back toward the swing-set, and, before him, was another boy, his age.

Rather, was his age.

He sat down in the creaky swing beside him, his head turned ninety-degrees. His shoes were buried in the mucky dirt, but never left a stain. He studied the young man.

His light, chestnut fringe was swept up slightly past his eyebrows, as he found himself jerking his head slightly ever so often to keep the growing hassle away from his eyes. His eyes, of which, were deer-like, glass orbs; they gleamed as if they had seen the world, yet seen nothing at all. His body was shapes and angles, slender arms, legs, everything, a feminine built, if he hadn't said so himself. The boy let out a long whistle.

"They really need to clean this place up, huh?" the chestnut-haired boy asked, peering up at the sky, as if he was tired of looking at the play-ground.

"Yeah," the other boy found the words escape from his lips. It surprised even himself--but what would it matter? It wasn't like he would be able to see him, anyway.

"Maybe we could start by fixing these lame- swings. They sound like a woman in labor," he laughed dryly. The latter's eyes widened, as his heart galloped in his thin chest.

"U-uh, yeah." he managed to choke out.

"Couples like swings, I think. Maybe it'd attract some lovers." his eyes dropped down to his shoes, in which his upper lip curled in disgust, as they had been dirtied. He then looked back at the stranger. His glassy eyes blinked. "What, cat got your tongue?" he asked.

"I--"he began, but no words could formulate. They seemed to be clogged in the back of his throat. Had anyone noticed him before, he might have been more loquacious, but this was another case.

"It's okay. Sometimes there are things that can only be appreciated in silence." he said.

"Like the sky," he murmured under his breath.

"What?" the chestnut-haired boy piped up.

"The sky never seems to be the same color, does it?" he breathed. The smell of metal and sticky sun wafted up his nostrils. "Sometimes, it's the color of faded polaroids like jaundiced skin, or petals pressed dry between the pages of a book, or ink-splotched paper. Sometimes it's wrinkled, worn, like a warm familiar blanket you always sleep with, or as smooth as milk and honey. Whatever it is, it holds a new destiny under the line of fate, and sometimes, those skies will never come back again." Words were drifting from his lips now, spilling out, as if they had been locked up in a vault for too long. There was a pregnant silence, and a soft sigh escaped the lips of the higher-pitched voice.

"That was deep, man. I wish I understood what you meant." he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"It's okay. I don't understand half of what I say anyway," he said bluntly. The chestnut-haired boy shrugged his shoulders, kicking the wood chips as he pushed himself off the ground gently, straightening his legs so his body formed a perfect ninety-degree angle. He tucked them in as he swung back, the squealing of the swing making him cringe, but the sensation was worth it. When he had finally reached a slow swa that seemed to mute the noise as best as it could, he asked the stranger a question once again.

"So, why are you even here?" he questioned.

"...I don't know. I just had a feeling, a feeling that I should be here, at this place, at this time." he explained. The chestnut-haired boy nodded. "You?"

"Hiding from girls," he smirked. The stranger looked at him incredulously.

"Why would you hide from people?" The idea was so foreign to him.

"Haven't you felt like you have enough to deal with, sometimes? I mean, when you're this good looking, it's hard to resist, but," he took this quick moment to pause and flip his hair. "I d'know, I've gotten too much attention recently, and it's just been annoying. Haven't you ever been noticed by girls, I can't say you don't look pretty handsome yourself," he admitted. A light heat touched his cheeks, but burned his ears.

"No. I don't get by as...noticeable." he admitted shyly.

"So you're the loser-type. I get it. What's your name? Maybe I could change that." he suggested. He paused before answering, taking a long glance at the ground, at his worn-out sneakers and the chestnut-haired boy's trendy sports shoes.

"Lee Byunghun." he said, finally.

"You're a Lee too? Cool! Welcome to the Lee brotherhood, then, man. Our names will never separate us. My name's Lee Chanhee. And yes, you guessed it, the Lee Chanhee." Byunghun nodded, as if he were thoroughly impressed, but really, he had no idea who the Lee Chanhee even was. "Lee Chanhee," he began. "The best in everything and everything." his hand waved through the air as if he could see it on headlines. Byunghun couldn't help but smile at how giant his ego was.

Suddenly, there was a ringing coming from the chestnut-haired boy. He groaned and muttered a curse under his breath, digging his hand in his pocket and fishing out his cell phone. "Hello?" he answered in a quiet voice. "What? No, I went to get some fresh air. No, I didn't want to stay away from you. Of course I miss you. Yeah, yeah. Uh-huh. Okay, I'm heading home, then. Love you," his two final words rang crisp in Byunghun's ears. How many times had he heard it? Yet it was just like all the others; it was a superficial, quick one. The 'love you' band-aid that temporarily closed up the wound.

He looked back at Byunghun. "Sorry, that was my girlfriend. You know how women are," he winked. He stood up, tucking his cell phone in his back pocket. "Maybe I'll catch up with you later? Another time? Right here?" The boy nodded. "Sounds cool," he his heel, heading towards the exit of the playground.

"By the way," he asked, without turning back. "What's the sky's color today?" 

Byunghun paused, tilting his head back, his eyes embedded in the sky. A smile curved up on his lips.

"A blue. A clear, azure blue." he replied.

"Smart-," he walked off. Byunghun couldn't see the large grin plastered on the chestnut-haired boy's face.

Today, Byunghun's empty heart was filled with sky.