Kyuhyun is leaving – leaving everything he’s ever known in his life, leaving all his possession’s behind – and the worst thing is, it isn’t by choice. He’s being dragged away into a big black limousine, no prospect of seeing his friends again; he didn’t even say goodbye.

But Kyuhyun has no choice. The men putting him in the car are big men, burly, and in black suits with walkie talkies. And Kyuhyun is smart enough to realize that if he runs away, he’ll get caught, and that means punishments.

It always happens in the games he plays. But in the games you can go and restart the whole thing; erase its memory, stop it happening.

Kyuhyun knows, instinctively, that this is the last time he’ll see his parents. They tell him it’s a holiday camp he’s going to, they say he’s coming home soon – but with no clothes or any possessions? He has no pictures, no phone, no PSP, no nothing.

He puts his hands up against the blackened windows, imprinting the memory of his parents waving sadly – but with no tears, he notices – something he’ll regret by eight years later. But his parents are leaving as well, and as the car moves around the corner Kyuhyun loses sight of his parents, and it’s a good job he does, because his parents whoop and cheer the minute he’s gone, rushing back into their house instantly.

But what his parents don’t know is that a man is waiting for them; inside their kitchen, inside their bedroom, the living room, the bathroom and the study. It’s not a living, breathing man; perhaps he was once; it’s the ghost of Kyuhyun.

Not dead yet, but soon to be. Kyuhyun’s body will soon be a shell; soon to be taught he doesn’t own his own body. Kyuhyun is already waiting for them inside the house, because although Kyuhyun is driving away, in that car, he’s also there, in spirit – and even though he won’t die for a long time, it will take a long time for his spirit to leave the house – the only home he’s ever known.

And a long time it will be. A long time after Kyuhyun will die, his spirit will still be there, waiting for him to come back and become one again. Countless people will move in the house and weeks later move out because of the sadness hanging over the house, like a cloud, a raining, sad, upset cloud.

He doesn’t have the heart to be angry at his parents anymore. Even though it’s been two years since Kyuhyun was shipped off, Kyuhyun is only 17, and he doesn’t have the heart to be angry. He’s long stopped believing that his parents would come for him, long stopped believing that his parents will save him.

He doesn’t know how his best friend, Sungmin is doing – or how his old lover, Ryeowook is doing. Have they found new boyfriends, new best friends? They’ll have started a new life – but they’ll never know how Kyuhyun presses his lips against his window at night, holding his cheek to the cold glass, sending his love and care to Sungmin and Ryeowook.

The sad thing is that they will never know it, feel it or see it. Kyuhyun doesn’t have any hope – but he still wishes he could see them for a second, see them again, tell them what he does, what his job is, but they aren’t to worry, they should carry on with their lives and forget about him.

What Kyuhyun doesn’t know if how badly he is missed. He may never know. The truth is that Ryeowook is looking for him, and Sungmin is also – but he doesn’t know. He could never know – they may never find him, may never discover the truth.

And now he comes to his current House; where he meets Zhou Mi, and Henry, and discovers new friends for the first time in eight years. Kyuhyun has never had friends quite like them; it’s a new feeling, and Kyuhyun doesn’t know if it’s good or not. Henry and Zhou Mi are in love; Kyuhyun wishes to be in love – someone to look after him, someone to love him back. But he doesn’t want a Leeteuk and Kangin love – a one-sided love by the host – Leeteuk is hurting, Leeteuk is dying inside because of Kangin. And Kangin doesn’t realize it.

Just like Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun is slowly dying inside, but it isn’t because of a person, it’s because of the world.

But his job isn’t unusual, oh no, not at all. Kyuhyun is a e, and his job is to pleasure others. He doesn’t own his body, his mind, or his soul, and Kyuhyun doesn’t know any different now. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t have marks on his body, like bruises or cuts, but they no longer hurt. He’s got scars, and new cuts come along, but they don’t hurt – his body is numb, his ears deaf to the screaming of the world, or the pain outside.

He’s 23 years old and it’s usual to him – but Kyuhyun is still a kid, he has never grown up, stuck in a Neverland, but this time it’s not Paradise, it’s Hell.

For who would want to save a broken, lost little boy who could never return?