Joshua was getting tired of feeling lonely.

Sighing as a form of giving up talking to Jihoon, Joshua looks down at his own feet: white converse sunk in sand that would be a pain in the to get rid off; wet because he had been playing around with the waves and Wonwoo before everything happened and just really, really uncomfortable to walk in at the moment.
He blinks twice and gulps once before realizing he couldn't care less about that, gently caressing his shoelaces before taking his shoes off and putting them in his backpack slowly. Joshua really couldn't care less at the moment, he thinks, as he tightens his grip on his bag and thinks about the things he should do next, watching Mingyu grab another can of beer and disappear from his sight in just a matter of seconds.

He doesn't care, honestly. 

Joshua's vision isn't blurry and those are not tears on his eyes, he thinks. He removes them with the hem of his sweater, though: looks around to make sure no one has seen him and with follows the path of footprints Jun and Wonwoo left behind. 

He is not sad, and he definitely doesn't care, but he's tired of feeling lonely and he's tired of the emptiness in his chest, of every one of his bones hurting; his ribcage, and his knees, injured from every fall he's had to stood up from. 

This time he wonders if he wants to stand up at all.

Crawling doesn't seem like a bad idea, but Joshua is tired of having to look up from the floor, so he doesn't only stand up: but he walks towards the busy city of Busan in slow, calm steps, looking down sometimes only to make sure he's still following Wonwoo's footprints. 

He gets confused once there's no more trace of the steps; once he's walking on concrete and people pass by in hurried fashion, but he only lifts his chin up and decides it's time to follow his gut.

Joshua goes left instead of right, his shoulder crashes against somebody else's every 2 minutes or so, but he doesn't care as he walks with his eyes on the ground and no destination on his mind. 

He doesn't flinch when another person's sharp shoulder blade collides with his chest, or when paper starts falling to the ground right in front of his eyes, He doesn't look to his side when he hears surprised gasps and desperation when people start stepping on said sheets.

Joshua doesn't care.

''Hey!'' Someone, the owner of the paper, cries out, ''Aren't you going to help me at least?'' Joshua doesn't answer, so the stranger sighs, ''What? You didn't hear me?'' He yells, the brunette sees slim fingers picking up the sheets; nails messily painted in black and a delicate ring decorating their last finger, ''Or you're just a douchebag?'' The stranger whispers, even though Joshua still hears him.

The stranger sighs dramatically again, he claps his hands together and gives 2 steps to face Joshua: the first thing Joshua can tell is that this person is angry.

Actually, angry is an understatement.

Joshua first sees eyebrows in a frown and a mouth furrowed, but then he gets to see a ponytail, strands of hair falling on the sides of the stranger's head and a pair of unused glasses on his forehead; he stares at the person's white shirt: paint, probably, smudged on the left side of the shirt; where the heart is supposed to be. He wonders for a second if the person in front of him isn't dying of cold, but realizes he probably shouldn't care and stays quiet once again. 

The boy in front of him keeps yelling at him; he's frowning deeply and explaining things with his hand, but Joshua can't hear properly; he looks at his hands instead, also hinting the use of some sort of paint, and stares at his index finger: white and purple and red at the same time, and he frowns. The boy doesn't seem too happy by this.

''Are you even listening?'' The boy asks, he takes his hand to his head, and waits for an answer with a strand of long hair between his fingers.
Joshua only nods.

''Then you understand why these,'' He points at the paper sheets, ''Are so important to me, right?'' The stranger raises his eyebrows, and sighs only again when Joshua tilts his head.

Joshua, who would normally be a gentleman and pick the things scattered on the floor without being told twice, only keeps staring at him.

''I...'' The boy starts, before shutting up and opening his eyes just slightly in a funny fashion, ''Wait, haven't I seen you before?''

It's only then that Joshua stares at the stranger's, the boy's face; expression softening at the moment and mouth opening just slightly in confusion. 

"What?" The boy laughs, "Oh, right! Weren't you at that garden a few days ago?" He runs a hand through his hair and smiles, "Yeah, it's you. I'd remember that face anywhere I went."

"You're really funny looking," He finishes before Joshua can even blush, and crosses his arms against his chest, stubbornly.

"Well, now help me." He says, but Joshua stays still.

The stranger raises an eyebrow and then hums, scanning Joshua's face with curiosity and his big, doe-like eyes.

"What?" Joshua mumbles under his breath, he takes a look at his bare feet and blushes again. 

The stranger smiles, "Oh you do speak!" He claps his hands together and kneels down to pick up the rest of the sheets of paper on the floor, but Joshua, once again, stays still; looks at the boy in front of him and his weird smile (but endearing, however – Joshua thinks) and does nothing.

The boy sighs as he hands him the papers he just had picked up and stands up, "I didn't think you were this rude when I first met you," He mutters, tilts his head and frowns.

"I'm not rude, though." Joshua interrupts; almost too quickly and angry, he frowns and pushes the boy's papers on his stomach – and the boy, still wide-eyed and with that endearing smile in his face, takes them.

"Sure," He grins, "What was your name again…?" The stranger hums, bites on his nails and looks around as he thinks of an answer. 

Joshua rolls his eyes; it's not like he remembers.

"Oh!" The boy exclaims, the look on his face is way too excited and way too bright and it makes Joshua frown again, "It's Joshua, isn't it?" 
Joshua nods, "Yeah…" 

"And that's your real name?" The stranger continues, "Where are you from?" 

Joshua spaces out, genuinely thinking, and takes a look at the boy's slim fingers holding the papers tightly, "I'm not sure."

The boy smiles, "Right."

Silence surrounds them and it makes Joshua uncomfortable; the boy in front of him is just someone who he just happened to meet randomly at the school's abandoned area, and someone who he just happened to meet again at the street, Joshua didn't even know his name but the boy in front of him wasn't moving or walking away – he was just there, standing still as his hair danced with the wind, staring at him as if he knew, as if he knew him.

"And who are you?" Joshua tentatively asks, he remembers those were the boy's first words when they first met – remembers they were also the last as he left as soon as Joshua answered his question; too fast, making Joshua wonder if the boy he had seen that time was even real.

He was.

The stranger smiles, takes his papers to his chest and hugs them tightly, "Whoever you want me to be." 

Joshua opens his mouth to protest, but the boy then turns his back to him and starts walking away from him.

Joshua can't do anything else but blink twice as he looks at the long-haired boy walk away as if their conversation had never happened.