Lifeline

Eun-woo had always been withdrawn. The type of kid to sit in the back of the class and not say a word. Someone who just couldn’t- no, wouldn’t- accept love. He would crave it, deep inside, but on the outside, he wouldn’t show it. And on that day, that dreadful day- he finally let it in.

Every day, at 2:39- not a second later, nor earlier- Eun-woo would go behind the school gym to smoke. Even though Seo-Jin hated it, hated it so much, he didn’t care. He’d stand there, staring at where the sky meets the trees, and stay until his cigarette was gone. Ashes would usually sit on the floor, and he wouldn’t bother to smother them. Other times, they would land on his arms- it would burn, yes- but he didn’t mind. Sometimes, he’d do it himself. He would press the burning end to his skin, feeling the pain, and letting it happen. It would always leave a circular mark. A permanant print.

And he didn’t even bother hiding it.

He didn’t have too, anyways- nobody at his school would even look at him, anyways. They barely noticed when he was out of uniform, or if he dyed his hair. Sometimes, he’d like to see how far he could go until someone said something about it. But not one person ever said anything. Never noticed. Never asked. And over time, he’d grown used to it. He’d gotten accustomed to just doing things for his eyes, and his eyes only.

The only person who did notice was Seo-jin. You see, Seo-jin was in love- deeply, overly in love with Eun-woo. And he would show it. He would leave notes, roses, and all sorts of gifts for Eun-woo. It started to become a habit, and Eun-woo wouldn’t ever respond. He would secretly hide them in his backpack, and hang them on his walls.

For a long, long time- that was the only thing keeping him alive.

Seo-jin would appreciate Eun-woo’s quiet. He would watch him go to the library every single day, always reading some old literature book. Most of the time, he was re-reading “To Kill a Mockingbird,” for the hundreth time. Eun-woo loved that book more than he loved himself. And honestly, he would never have it more than 100 feet away. It went wherever he went, and he read it any chance he got. Seo-Jin would always try to read it, so he coud have something in common with him- but couldn’t get past the first page.

He wasn’t ever a reader, more of a sports kid. Everyone knew him, and he knew everyone. He would play soccer all the time, and he was damn good at it. Eun-woo was never interested in sports, but he would almost always be in the top corner of those hard, metal bleachers that he hated. Despite this, he still never accepted Seo-jin’s feelings. They never talked for more than a minute- and even saying “hi” back was a rare thing for Eun-woo.

Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was internalized homophobia. But both boys were out of the closet–

Seo-jin because he didn’t care what others thought,

Eun-woo because others didn’t care.

Most of all, their social statuses were miles apart. Everyone noticed Seo-jin, and nobody knew Eun-woo. He was a backround character, and Seo-jin was the protagonist.

He knew that all too well.

Which was why he never talked to Seo-jin. Tried not to say more than a word. He was afraid that if he said something wrong, then maybe Seo-jin would hate him. That he’d stop seeing him. And if that happened, he’d lose his lifeline. He would be invisible, almost as if he didn’t exist.

Life at home wasn’t much better. Eun-woo’s parents treated him like an object, Chores were piled up on him, and his parents would argue constantly. When his mother was drunk, it was worse. His father would yell at her about fucking random guys at clubs, and she’s yell something about his obsession with hookers. Both of them had their problems, and somehow they found a way to take that out on Eun-woo. Not physical, most of the time. Usually it was just words. They’d scream at him, call him names, say horrible things. It always went the same. He would tune it out, and his father would end up driving off, leaving him alone with his whore of a mother.

And the worst part? On top of all this, he just had to have OCD.