****

Chapter 1

Kyungsoo stares at the red crack on his forehead with morbid fascination. The crack lengthens and grows more vibrant with each passing second, mimicking the small cracks on the dirty bathroom mirror, which in turn resemble the burst capillaries from which the blood on his face trickles. Kyungsoo’s so mesmerized by the blood that he barely feels the pain from the blow to his head.

Outside, a loud wail erupts. Kyungsoo’s brows furrow for a second. He used to feel pity when he heard those sounds—pity for that frail, broken woman who birthed him. But the more he thought about it, the more that pity transformed to a guilty sort of resentment. Why had she chosen to start a family with his father? She ruined more than her own life. But Kyungsoo doesn’t want to hate his mother, so he tries not to think about it. 

To distract himself from those sobs that penetrate the apartment’s thin walls and that pierce through his heart, he gets ready for school. Bandages—check. Uniform—check. Schoolbooks—check.

He runs out before his father can stop him. As the door shuts behind him, he catches the sound of a beer bottle shattering against the wall. He pauses momentarily, wondering if he should go back in and make sure his mom is all right.

But outside, the sun is shining and the cool fall air is crisp and refreshingly free from the smell of stale alcohol. Before his mind makes a decision, his feet have already begun to walk—away from the dark void of the apartment and into the bright, beautiful world just beyond.

The first day of school much resembles a holiday party. There’s palpable excitement as friends  reunite after a long summer, but there’s also an undercurrent of tension as insecure youths struggle to find their place in life. 

Fortunately or not, Kyungsoo’s long ago learned his place in life. He knows now that when you show up to school with worn shirts, scuffed shoes, and an empty wallet, your place is quickly decided for you. And no matter how hard you fight it, nothing will change.

He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he meanders to the back corner and slides into the seat by the window. He sat here last year too; he greets the familiar oak tree outside with a silent hello. It is, perhaps, his only friend. Several students peer his way, wondering who he is and why they’ve never had class with him. He ignores them—they’ll figure it out soon enough—and takes out a copy of the English textbook. He wonders if he’ll be able to pass this time.

The bell rings and the students make their way to their favored seats. A few stragglers stroll in at the last minute. One of them pauses to survey the room. Then, he walks steadily towards Kyungsoo and stops at the edge of his desk.

It takes a second for Kyungsoo to register the person; when he does, he’s surprised to meet the half-lidded eyes of the giant boy who towers over him. The boy says in an emotionless, monotone voice: “Hey, can I have this seat?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t really understand. Aren’t seats first come first serve? He stares owlishly at the boy, struggling to form a response. The rest of the class has quieted down and now watch their exchange with a sort of malicious interest.

The boy’s friend, a dyed brunette with colored contacts and a trendy backpack, elbows the boy. “Yah, Jongin, you’re being rude. Let’s just sit somewhere else.”

The boy shrugs. “But I like it here, Taemin. Can you move?”

That’s when Kyungsoo realizes it was never a question that required a response. Or rather, it required only one response, which he obliges. Without struggle, he quietly packs his sparse belongings and moves to the opposite back corner. Multiple pairs eyes trace his movement; they’re filled with mocking glee. 

Once, Kyungsoo might have cared and felt self-conscious. But what’s a few stares to him now? If he’s not learned anything else in high school, at least he’s learned to arm himself with a thick, protective armor.

Behind him, Jongin slides into the seat he’s just vacated. The taller boy glances over, betraying a small hint of curiosity. But then it’s gone—he lays his head down to nap just as the old, cantankerous Mr. Lee stomps into the room to officially begin the school year. 

***

“Did you hear about Kim Jongin and the fourth year?”

“Huh? No, man. Kim Jongin, that rich kid?”

“Yeah, and the dance champion or whatever.”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t he on TV?”

“Yeah, for ballet.” Obligatory round of snickers. “Anyway, this kid tried to take his seat this morning and he totally kicked him out.”

“Wait, what kid?”

“Kyungsoo or whatever? Apparently, he failed last year so he has re-do senior year. What a .”

More laughter.

“Well, you’ve gotta be pretty dumb to mess with Kim Jongin, right? Doesn’t his family run the mafia or something……”

“Yeah, rumor has it…….”

Kyungsoo emerges from his stall only after he’s sure the group of gossiping boys have left. He leans against the bathroom counter and takes a deep breath. His head had begun to ache halfway through the morning, probably from the blow, and he takes a few minutes now to steady himself. Meanwhile, his thoughts wander to he’s just overheard. 

What a .

He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. God, they don’t even know half of it.

***

The cafeteria is raucous as ever when Kyungsoo finally makes it there. He finds an empty spot in an unobtrusive corner and takes out his kim bap. He takes a bite and, despite the stale rice, feels just a little better. He’s thankful that food always manages to brighten his day, at least a bit.

His moment of peace is short-lived. Two boys swagger over and intrude upon his space. Kyungsoo eyes them warily.

The short, squat boy speaks first: “Hey, Do Kyungsoo. Mind if we join you?”

His friend, Jingoo, dons a sly smile and mock-admonishes, “Yah, Hyunwoo, don’t be rude. We have to call him hyung, remember? He’s old.”

“Oh that’s right,” Hyunwoo responds with a snicker. “Hyung. How’s it feel to be back for a fourth year? Bet you’re feeling real smart, huh?”

Kyungsoo remains silent. He wonders if he can go back to eating, or if that’ll just spark their ire. After all, the last thing he needs today is another beating. He puts the kim bap down with a resigned sigh.

Hyunwoo frowns at the lack of response and makes eyes at Jingoo. Jingoo motions for Hyunwoo to watch him. With feigned nonchalance, Jingoo swipes Kyungsoo’s kim bap off the table. “Oops, hand slipped. Sorry about that, Hyung. You aren’t mad, are you?”

Kyungsoo stares at the wasted roll with downturned lips. The two boys share a smirk, ready to go hard on Kyungsoo the minute he shows any sign of anger. But Kyungsoo disappoints them. He turns away from the fallen kim bap and stares at them silently. 

Hyunwoo, who reads his silence as insolence, begins to redden with rage. “Yah, aren’t you going to say anything? Or are you too , huh?”

Kyungsoo remains quiet. There’s nothing to say and he just wants them to go away. But this only further infuriates Hyunwoo, who clenches his large hands into a fist. “Listen, we all know you’re a big fat failure,” he seethes, making a last attempt at getting a rise out of Kyungsoo. “I can’t believe you’re shameless enough to come back to school.”

Kyungsoo blinks. But where would I go otherwise, he wants to ask. 

“Yah! Say something!” Hyunwoo shouts, pulling back his fist. 

Jingoo catches his arm just before it swings forward. He shakes his head in warning. “Come on, there are teachers around. This kid isn’t worth it.” With that, he drags a seething Hyunwoo away.

Kyungsoo watches their retreat with mild curiosity. He wonders how, in the end, they’ve managed to make it appear as if he were the instigator. Before he can think too hard though, another bout of nausea hits him. He takes a deep breath and waits for it to pass. Then, he picks up his fallen kim bap and walks out the room, impervious to the stares that follow.

From several tables over, Jongin observes Kyungsoo’s movement with half-open eyes. 

“Why doesn’t he ever react?” he muses.

“What was that?” Taemin asks, surprised to hear his friend speak. 

Jongin studies Kyungsoo’s small, retreating figure for a second more before shaking his head. “No, nothing. Interesting guy, that’s all.”

***

Kyungsoo feels a sense of a relief when he finishes scrubbing the last toilet. It’s late and his recurring headache all but consumes him, but after this, there’s just the executive suite left to clean. And tomorrow, he can get paid. People look down on janitors, but Kyungsoo’s never been more glad to have been hired by L, an architecture firm that’s been on the rise and that can afford to pay its janitors above minimum wage. 

Besides, Kyungsoo enjoys working late nights. The empty office building, without ruthless teens or drunken parents, suits Kyungsoo just fine. 

Only it’s not entirely empty today, Kyungsoo discovers to his surprise.The executive suite is still ablaze with light when Kyungsoo steps out of the elevator and the head designer himself is hunched over a large blueprint spread across his desk. At Kyungsoo’s entrance, the designer looks up in surprise.

It’s the first time Kyungsoo’s seen the designer-slash-company-founder face to face and he’s taken aback at the latter’s youthfulness. And his good looks.

And his friendliness. 

“Ah, you must be the new janitor!” the man exclaims, beckoning him in. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be here. I’m probably interfering with your cleaning. But if it’s okay, I just have to get a little more done and then I’m off. Do you think it’s okay if I stay while you clean?”

Kyungsoo blinks in wordless surprise. It’s your office, Sir, is what he wants to say. But he swallows the flippant retort and merely nods. 

“Great!” says the man with a bright smile that momentarily disarms Kyungsoo. “Have at it.”

Kyungsoo smiles hesitantly in return and begins to wipe and dust as quickly and quietly as he can. Meanwhile, tibits of information about the big boss flit through his mind. 

Luhan, is his name. Kyungsoo thinks it’s a weird name before he remembers that the man is Chinese. How old is he? 29? 30? In any case, young. Young and popular among the younger Korean set and making splashes with his elegant, innovative designs. It must help, Kyungsoo thinks, that he also happens to be photogenic.

When Kyungsoo finishes the bookshelf, he turns around and meets Luhan’s eyes. The latter looks vaguely embarrassed at being caught staring. “Sorry,” he explains, “I was just surprised to see someone so young working here.”

Kyungsoo replies with an unresponsive oh. At least, he can’t very well admit that he lied about his age on his application, can he? So he settles for a bland smile and gets back to work, pausing only when he’s assaulted by another wave of dizziness. He raises a hand to his forehead and stands still to let it pass. In the periphery of his consciousness, he hears muffled footsteps coming his way. 

Before he can move, Luhan’s made it to his side. The older man studies him with a look of patent concern that surprises Kyungsoo. When’s the last time someone looked at him that way, he wonders vaguely. But he feels too awful to really reflect on this. 

“Say, don’t mean to be rude, but are you okay? You look…”

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo whispers through gritted teeth. 

Of course, he isn’t fine. At least, not from the way the room is spinning. He closes his eyes for a moment, willing the nausea to pass. But it doesn’t, and no longer able to support himself, he crumples to the ground. 

Or, more accurately, he crumples into Luhan’s outstretched arms as the latter frantically strives to catch him. 

***TBC***

A/N: Again, I rewrote this chapter. It's not substantively that different, but I actually tweaked the personalities of Ksoo and Kai quite a bit so hopefully if you read it before, you had a fun re-read? More to come soon! <3