I look down at him, this homeless person.
    He's foreign, which is quite rare.
    And he's very poor.
    I don't usually give money to the homeless people who litter the streets, normally I give them the useful stuff, like food, because even if you're trying to be kind, you don't know what they would do with the money.
    But I recognise this person, and I start to wander why he's here.
    A long time ago, I had this boy band I really liked.
    I live in Europe though, and this boy band were Asian, so I knew that unlike other girls, it was more difficult for me to talk about what I liked about them to over girls or go watch their shows or even buy merchandise.
    But unlike other fans, I didn't like them because they were good looking, sure I used to fangirl over pictures of them and I used to squeal over their cuteness and go into a trance when I watched their music videos, but the main reason I liked them is because they put so much effort into everything and went through so many hard timed but still put a smile on through their shows and said 'I love you' to the fans, even though sometimes the fans could be their worst nightmare (I mustn't have been the only one who could see that they couldn't just shake off the fact that some of the fans d them and pushed them and stole their stuff and stalked them) and they gave me a spirit to say, 'They have a tough life too, why should I get all depressed over mine?' And so their smiles and hard work made me push through my hard days.
    I knew they didn't know me, they said 'I love you' but of course they weren't saying it to me, they were saying it to the camera's.
    That boy band led me to other boy bands though, and girl bands which also made me happy, and when I wasn't having a good time, I would drown myself in all the smiles and laughter they sent.  
    My life got better, I got a small apartment and had a boyfriend and lived away from my parents and their new lives.
    But then I met this man on the street, and I knew who he was.

I bend down and reach into my pocket and drag out a sandwich I was going to eat, but pass it to the male instead.
    He has a large hood hanging over him, but by his lips and his jaw structure, no matter how battered he looks I know who he is.
    "Nin Hao," I greet him formally in Chinese, although I don't actually know how to speak Chinese, I know he can speak English fluently.
    He raises his head, and I finally get a good look at him.
    I show a smile, the kindest I can offer and keep my hand outreached with the sandwich wrapped in cling foil inside it.
    "Yifan?" I say quietly.
    His eyes are dark and aged, his face is slightly dirty and his lips are chapped, but I can still see the handsome face which used to be a star in both Korea and China a long time ago.
    But when I say his name, his eyes droop and he says something in Chinese.
    I laugh nervously and explain, "I don't actually speak Chinese."
    He sighs and starts again, "You know who I am?"
    "Yes-"
    "An ex-EXO member, or a singer and actor in China?"
    "Both, but most importantly," I reach my hand out further, "At the moment you're a starving homeless person in London, and you need this."
    He looks at the sandwich, then at me, before lifting a heavy hand and taking the food into his grasp, rasping in a tired voice, "Thank you."
    "Your welcome," I smile, then before I know it, I shift over towards him and sit next to him, leaning my back against the concrete wall from behind, and he says quietly as he unwraps the cling film, "You're doing this because you're a fan, right?"
    I sigh, I can see why he'd think that, but I start to explain, "I normally talk to the homeless and give them food and money, even though I sort of need it at the moment..." I look towards the busy street, people looking down at me and finding me strange to be sitting close to a homeless person and talking to him like he's some strange animal.
    "And you don't...hate me?"
    I almost choke on air, and finally turn to look at the older male, "Why would I do that?" I ask, honestly shocked that after I give him a sandwich and I start to talk to him, he thinks I hate him.
    "Because I...left EXO?"
    Ah, that's why.
    "Some people...some fans did start disliking them...they said they were falling apart and weren't very good...and...they called you traitors," he flinched at the words, but I continued, "But many, myself including, knew and understood, that if you wanted to leave then you should leave, never should someone be forced to do something they don't want, whether they're a normal person or a celebrity, and anyway, I thought you were having a much better life in China...why are you here?" I knew it isn't really my place to ask, but I felt like curiosity was taking over me.
    Yifan sighs, he thinks about it, and finally answers, "Please don't tell anyone I'm here...I wanted a normal life, and if that meant sitting here then..." he shrugs, taking a bite of the sandwich, "Then that's just it."
    I let out a breath, the cold air taking my breath and turning it into wisps of smoke, before I say quietly and as softly as I can, "I'm sorry Yifan, but you having a normal life is hard to turn back to, if you weren't sitting on the side of the pavement like that, then you'd probably have a few more people coming to see you, a few more fans, I just seem to look at homeless people a little longer and actually managed to recognise you..." I sigh and look at him with a smile, "You're life won't get any better here," I don't want to invade his personal space so I curl my knees up and hug them, resting my head on my knees and looking at him with a smile.
    He thinks about my words carefully, I can tell because of the way he frowns deeply.
    Suddenly my phone in my pocket vibrates and I flip it out to see a text from Luca, saying 'When are u coming back? x'
    I reply, 'Now, xoxo' and slip my phone back in my pocket and I'm surprised when Yifan asks, "Who was that? Mother? Father?"
    "Boyfriend," I laugh, looking down at my feet, continuing to chuckle, "I remember when I first told him about my love for k-pop, he found it extremely funny and said 'if you want me to start singing and dancing in order for you to stay with me then I will'," I shake my head and then turn back to Yifan.
    "It's not my decision to say so, but I think," I reach back into my pocket, grabbing my purse and pulling out as much money as possible and stuffing it in the tiny tin he had out on display, "You should take a flight back to China, and sort your life out, because running away isn't going to help you," I explain and slowly get back onto my feet.
    His face is shocked as he inspects the money in the tin, as if checking it's real, and then looks up at me, "How do you know I'm not just going to spend it on stuff to keep me staying here?"
    "I don't," I shrug, and stuff my hands in my pockets, "I'm just going to have to trust you, aren't I?"
    And then I leave, I leave the idol I adore on the street with a large stash of money and a sandwich which is still to be finished.