"Welcome to Northbridge Insane Asylum, where our best doctors will cure you in no time." The voice, tinged with sarcasm, came from a bored looking boy, sprawled across the sofa in the common room. I looked at him blankly. He giggled. "I've heard this speech so many times," he commented. "Every time they admit a new patient. None of them have ever been cured."

 

He sat up straight, taking a moment to flatten his tousled hair, and stretched out a hand. "I'm Byun Baekhyun. And you are?"

 

"Park Chanyeol," I replied. Baekhyun, huh? Sounds familiar.

 

"Well, pleased to meet you mister Park Chanyeol," he laughed, enunciating every syllable of my name.

 

He has a nice laugh, I thought. Reminds me of wind chimes. Someone else reminded me of wind chimes...

 

A voice brought me out of my thoughts. "So, have you met everyone here?"

 

I shook my head in response.

 

He pointed to a small, wide-eyed boy. "That's Kyungsoo. He has schizophrenia."

 

"He looks way too young to be in here," I whispered.

 

"Aren't we all? He's seventeen."

 

"No way. You're lying."

 

"Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. He pointed to another boy, this one tall and tanned, sitting next to Kyungsoo. "That's Jongin. But sometimes he's Kai. He has Dissociative Identity Disorder."

 

Baekhyun shuddered. "I don't like Kai. He's terrifying. I feel so bad for Kyungsoo. Jongin is the sweetest thing ever but Kai, Kai is so violent."

 

"What does he do?" I asked.

 

"He likes to hit and throw things, mostly at Kyungsoo. Sometimes Kyungsoo himself. His personality changes are unpredictable so we have to be careful to lock him up fast."

 

I shifted my gaze away from Jongin, who was now staring at me with undisguised curiosity. I motioned towards three other boys sitting in front of the television. "Who are they?"

 

"Sehun, Joonmyun, and Jongdae. Bipolar disorder, PTSD, and severe depression, respectively."

 

"What about them?" I asked, referring to two boys who had just walked in. One was delicate and feminine, almost deer-like. The other was chubby, with arched eyebrows and a glint in his eye.

 

"Luhan and Minseok, the psychopath and the mute."

 

I looked at Baekhyun in shock. "There's no way that little kid is a psychopath."

 

"He's older than you."

 

"How do you know how old I am?"

 

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I have my ways."

 

I gave him a suspicious glance.

 

"Just kidding," he giggled. "I saw your file before you came in."

 

There's that laugh again.

 

He sighed and lay back on the sofa. "Pretty soon the nurses will come back with Kris. He has to take a lot of meds."

 

My curiosity had been sparked by then and I was listening intently. "What does he have?"

 

Baekhyun shrugged. "Dunno. Too scared to ask or even get near him."

 

"And him?"

 

Baekhyun followed my gaze to a skinny boy, much too skinny for his age. "That's Tao. He's anorexic and bulimic. Poor kid, so obsessed with his image."

 

Just then, Tao started screaming. "I don't wanna eat! I'm fat, can't you see?"

 

A nurse calmly smiled at him, revealing deep dimples. "Calm down, Tao. I'm just suggesting that you eat something so your stomach won't growl later. That's very unattractive, you know?"

 

Tao whimpered. "I don't wanna be ugly," he whispered, wiping his tear-stained cheeks. "Please make me pretty, Yixing."

 

"Did I mention Yixing? Probably not," Baekhyun muttered. "He's the head nurse, and a good one at that. He's the only one who's able to calm any of them down."

 

"How?"

 

"Well," he started. "Tao's body dysmorphic disorder is really severe. Yixing is the only nurse who can talk to him and make him feel good about himself. He was the one who stopped Tao from trying to cut the fat off his body."

 

I shivered in disgust. Baekhyun leaned in close, so close that I could smell his Old Spice cologne. Old Spice...

 

"What about you, Park Chanyeol?"

 

The way my name rolled off his tongue made it seem so beautiful. His voice lilted, turning everything he said into a song. I loved it.

 

He moved closer to me, taking my hand in his own. "What about you?"

 

I grinned sheepishly, scratching my neck. "I, uh, I'm a pyromaniac," I admitted.

 

"When did you start getting the urges?"

 

I sighed. This was not something I liked to talk about. But Baekhyun seemed so wise behind the sarcasm and bored mask.

 

Come on. This kid hangs out with a psychopath. He's not going to judge you.

 

I sighed again. "I always liked to burn things. It started with small things, just leaf piles. Then I had this friend."

 

My voice cracked and my mouth grew dry. A lump formed in my throat. "He and I, we were really, uh, close."

 

Tears brimmed in my eyes, threatening to spill. "Then one day, I got a phone call. All he said was 'I told them, Channie. They're taking me-'"

 

Baekhyun rubbed my hand soothingly. "I never heard from him ever again," I cried, beginning to sob openly.

 

Baekhyun was patient while I wept. He seemed genuinely interested in my story. He waited for me to calm down before asking, "What happened next?"

 

"It got harder to resist the urge. I burned things more often. Bigger things. I tried to forget him. Every time, it felt like some of my sorrow burned away. But it would always come back," I sniffed. "It got so bad that my parents had to put me in here."

 

Baekhyun rested his head on my shoulder. "Parents can be so stupid," he mumbled.

 

"What did they do to you?" I whispered, wiping away my tears.

 

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. "They stuck me in here for something just as stupid as them, if not more."

 

He smiled softly and looked up at me. For the first time, I could see his eyes clearly. Rimmed by eyeliner, they carried the boy's entire soul. Used to, at least. They had been dulled by years of suffering and now carried only a look of defeat. A look of having given up.

 

His eyes shone against the stark white of the asylum walls and the bland grey of his uniform. It took me a moment to realize the shine was actually water.

 

"Oh my god, Baekhyun. Please don't cry."

 

"I'm not," he laughed. "My eyes are just watering."

 

I took his face gently in my hands and swiped my thumb across his cheeks. "Well then, please stop your eyes from watering."

 

He laughed, a little forcefully but a laugh all the same. "When?" I asked.

 

Baekhyun got a dreamy look on his face. "Five years ago. I told my parents a secret I had been keeping for years, which, in retrospect, was an awful idea."

 

He leaned in close, almost too close for comfort. The hand not covering mine reached for the back of my neck. I found myself involuntarily wrapping my arms around his waist and drawing him closer.

 

"Idiotic parents. A clueless best friend. Bullies. I left them behind when I came here," Baekhyun whispered.

 

"Good for you," I murmured.

 

He chuckled dryly. "My diagnosis?"

 

"What was it?"

 

His eyes bore holes into me. "I never got a chance to say goodbye. I never got to tell him where I was going."

 

"Tell who?"

 

"I never got to finish that sentence, so I'll finish it now. 'They're taking me to Northbridge Insane Asylum.'"

 

An image flashed before my eyes, a frightened boy and a tiny treehouse.

 

"Channie, I have to tell them."

 

"I had to tell them," Baekhyun said.

 

"They'll find out eventually."

 

"They would've found out eventually."

 

"I'll come back. I promise."

 

"I promised him I'd come back."

 

Everything made sense at that moment. Five years, fire and grief. Even more so when Baekhyun whispered, "The diagnosis was homouality."

 

To this day, I still don't know what compelled me to do what I did. I kissed him. I kissed Byun Baekhyun. I kissed him and he tangled his hands into my hair, obviously enjoying the kiss as much as I did. He didn't pull away, not until we both ran out of air.

 

He rested his forehead against mine. "God, I missed you," he chuckled. "Told you I'd come back, Channie."