Keychain Boy (1/2)
Title: Keychain Boy
Pairing(s): QMi, side!HanChul, one-sided!GengMi, slight!KyuMin
Genre(s): Romance, warning!age-gap
Length: ~11k words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Zhou Mi is a writer with writer’s block and a broken heart. A teenager named Kyuhyun changes all that.
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Zhou Mi ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. His eyes were shriveling up and his left foot was completely numb. He winced when he attempted to stand up and closed his eyes to wait out the uncomfortable tingling that travelled up his leg. Christ, he hated writer’s block.
Despite his three-year streak as one of the greatest fiction writers in town, his last book had been a flop and his editor was driving him insane. He sighed.
After the pins and needles receded, he carefully extracted himself from his chair and limped over to his kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea. He swore when a droplet jumped up and scalded the skin of his hand, and he blew it in little puffs until the sting subsided before setting his water boiler down.
His cellphone rang from around the corner and he dragged his feet along the kitchen tiles onto the carpeted floor of his bedroom towards the sound. Zhou Mi checked caller ID and his eyes softened as he picked up. “Hey Han Geng,” he answered without skipping a beat. “What’s the matter?”
“Just checking up on you, as usual.”
Zhou Mi scoffed good-naturedly. “Don’t lie, you never call at-” he checked his watch quickly, “four in the morning.” The short strained laugh that came from the receiver made Zhou Mi’s hackles rise. Something wasn’t right. “Han Geng, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Did you know that I have a nephew?”
“No.”
Another one of those strained laughs. “Well, neither did I. But guess who showed up on my doorstep?”
Kyuhyun was a quiet boy. Quiet, but daring. He had dark brooding eyes that darted back and forth, a sharpness to them that never seemed to lose focus. His black curls were unruly, and he wore an oversized band t-shirt with loose ripped jeans and skateboard shoes. Unlike most teenagers, he hardly fidgeted, and his hands were completely still, folded neatly on his lap. His lips were chapped, his skin pale and sallow. It was unnerving to look at him.
When Zhou Mi arrived at his best friend’s apartment, he was met at the door by a very sleep-deprived Heechul, who mouthed a thank god you’re here before ushering him into the living room where Han Geng was speaking lowly to the dark presence seated quietly on the couch.
Han Geng visibly relaxed when he took notice of his best friend’s arrival. He stood and they made their way into the kitchen with one last cautious glance at the boy. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice, Zhou Mi,” he said, voice low and tense.
“Anytime,” Zhou Mi shrugged. “I was awake anyway. So, what’s the story?”
“I’m not quite sure myself. He’s been here for half an hour but he hasn’t talked.”
“At all?”
“The only thing he said was that he is Han Li’s son and his name is Kyuhyun. A Korean name, which is odd. My brother doesn’t know the first thing about the Korean language. I doubt he would give his child a Korean name.”
Zhou Mi frowned. “What makes you think that this Kyuhyun boy is telling the truth?”
Han Geng made an impatient gesture. “Well, he knew who Han Li was and apparently he tracked him all the way over here.”
“I thought Han Li was in America.”
“That’s what he said the last time I heard from him, but you never know with my brother.” Han Geng ran his hand through his hair. “Han Li could be in the middle of Russia for all I know. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him. Months since the last postcard.”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I don’t know. I’m ready to just give him a room and let him stay for a while, I guess.” Han Geng shrugged. “From the looks of it, he has nowhere else to go. For goodness’ sake, he looks barely seventeen. It wouldn’t be right if I just sent him on his way out. Besides, he doesn’t look capable of murdering us in our sleep, not as if I’m going to sleep tonight anyway. Have a few phone calls to make-probably want to track my brother down for this.”
Zhou Mi shook his head. “You did the right thing. Anything I can do to help?”
“He’s not talking no matter what Heechul and I say to him. You’re good with kids, so I figured that if anybody could make him crack, you could.”
Zhou Mi took a look at the lanky adolescent and blinked. “I’m good with kids. Not too sure if I’m good with teenagers.” With a heave, he patted his best friend on the shoulder and made his way towards the still figure on the couch. He tried not to cringe at the calculating look on the aloof teenager’s face. “Hey,” he started off hesitantly, trying to smile as gently as possible. “My name is Zhou Mi.” He waited for some sort of response, but Kyuhyun only stared at him unblinkingly until Zhou Mi cleared his throat to cut through the tension. “I’m a friend of your uncles.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not,” he mumbled, voice barely audible.
Zhou Mi blinked. “Excuse me?”
The teenager rolled his eyes but said no more.
A few awkward beats passed before Zhou Mi restarted. “Where are you from?”
Kyuhyun shrugged.
“Okay, I assume that means you don’t know,” Zhou Mi quipped though he highly doubted that was the case. “So your name is Kyuhyun. Who named you? Your mother?”
Kyuhyun shrugged again.
Zhou Mi sighed, a tired smile stretching his face. “You’re not a talkative one, are you? No matter, I’ll talk enough for the both of us. Han Geng is setting up the guest room so that you can stay the night. It won’t be long until you can settle in.” From there, Zhou Mi passed the next ten long minutes talking about trivial things like the latest movies and recent bands and the best restaurants in town (“I’ve been to all of them, so I should know.”) He was good at that, just talking in prose and long paragraphs-to be honest, it was what got him through university.
Kyuhyun just sat there, unmoving, but for some strange reason, Zhou Mi knew that despite the boy’s unresponsive demeanor, he listened to every word.
Both Han Geng and Heechul had full-time administrative jobs, which meant that they worked from eight in the morning to eight at night, sometimes even later than that. Zhou Mi caved and offered to look after Kyuhyun until they returned, and although he knew that he was probably signing up for a lot more than he could chew, it was worth the look of gratitude on Han Geng’s face.
Zhou Mi shook himself. Honestly, how hard could looking after a teenager be? It’ll be just like having a roommate. Probably a really quiet one, too, which was a plus. Zhou Mi generally was an outgoing person, but even he liked peace and quiet when he could get it.
The first few days of this arrangement were awkward and wary. Han Geng dropped Kyuhyun off at seven in the morning, and after a quick tour of the flat (“kitchen is on the left, help yourself to anything you want, the bathroom is beside the bedroom on your right”), Zhou Mi left him to his own devices. Teenagers needed space, a lot of space. Every parenting guide said as much.
Zhou Mi felt as if they were circling around each other like wild animals ready to pounce. Every time they used the bathroom or entered the kitchen or even just sat in the same room together, the tension in the air was so thick a knife could cut through it. Zhou Mi felt like he was wading through shark waters.
Of course, Zhou Mi did his best to accommodate and empathize. It was natural for a young boy to feel out of place in the presence of a stranger. They had breakfast together in the mornings, ate lunch together in the afternoons, and sat down for dinner in the evenings. During those times, he started up meaningless conversation about the weather and football scores and inflation, giving himself a point every time he managed to coax out a little response from the boy.
Otherwise, the apartment was nearly silent save for Zhou Mi typing on the computer keyboard, and the writer could go on for stretches at a time forgetting that Kyuhyun was even there at all. Christ, the boy was quiet.
As the days passed and Kyuhyun became more used to his new surroundings, a routine was established and consequently the tension started to disperse. Zhou Mi could see the rigid lines on the boy’s face gradually relax, and it made his heart warm somewhat just knowing that he was finally adjusting. There were many questions that Zhou Mi wanted to ask-where did you come from? why are you here? what is your purpose?-but those could wait for another time. Zhou Mi was nothing but patient.
It only took two weeks for Kyuhyun to start showing his true colors. If Zhou Mi had ever believed that taking care of a teenager was simple, he was promptly proven wrong the moment he walked in to check on Kyuhyun to find pretty much his whole bedroom overturned. It looked like a hurricane had passed through the room. Much of his clothing had been removed from the coat hangers and strewn around, paper littered the floor, and in the middle of the room there Kyuhyun was, serenely sprawled out on the carpet reading Zhou Mi’s college journal.
A pair of dark amused eyes turned his way, challenging him to say something.
Zhou Mi blinked several times and quickly regained his composure. “What happened here?” he asked in his best grownup voice.
Kyuhyun only rolled his eyes and smirked. “‘English lectures are dull as granite,’” he read aloud from the journal. “‘The only reason why I stay awake is because my dear Han Geng is sitting beside me-my rock, my soul, my love. Only his presence can make any lecture bearable.’”
Zhou Mi felt his face grow hot but he forced himself to keep his expression cool. “That’s private.”
“Hide it better next time, then,” Kyuhyun replied airily.
“I respected your privacy. I had assumed that you would do the same.”
“Well, assumptions are dangerous.”
Zhou Mi clenched his fists and made his way towards the teenager to swipe the journal away from underneath his skinny fingers. “I’ll leave you to clean this mess up.”
Kyuhyun languidly rolled onto his back and quirked an eyebrow up at him. “And what if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll let your uncle know that you require some disciplining.”
Kyuhyun barked out a short laugh. “Disciplining? Really? Is that all you could come up with?”
It took all of Zhou Mi’s willpower not to grind his teeth together. “That’s what grown-ups do to children who misbehave.”
The teenager’s eyes hardened. “I’m not a child.”
Zhou Mi smirked. As arrogant as Kyuhyun looked, he sucked at hiding his weak spots. “I’m your babysitter, you’re the baby. So technically, ‘child’ is an understatement on your behalf.”
“I’m not a child!”
“You keep telling yourself that. Whatever gets you through the night.”
“I know what gets you through the night,” Kyuhyun sneered. He rolled his eyes back in mock ecstasy and started to writhe. “Oh, Han Geng, oh, that feels so good, don’t stop-!”
“That’s enough!” Zhou Mi shouted, mortification making him stiff with anger. Kyuhyun only grinned, knowing he had won the battle. Zhou Mi was so close to strangling the boy. “I expect this mess to be cleaned up by the time I’m done making dinner. Schedule accordingly.”
He stalked out of the room with what was left of his dignity, closed the door, and locked the journal in his wine cabinet, double-checking that the lock was securely fastened. Then he closed his eyes and heaved out a tired sigh. He decided that he hated teenagers, totally utterly hated them.
To be honest, Zhou Mi was surprised that Kyuhyun did not immediately sell him out to his uncle, but he did his best not to show it when Han Geng dropped the boy off at the door the next day and everything was perfectly normal. Kyuhyun seemed to know of his surprise anyway, though, judging by his arrogant demeanor and suggestive looks over breakfast.
Since the incident with the journal, Zhou Mi learned to always keep his guard up and to refrain from showing any signs of annoyance. Kyuhyun seemed to feed off of frustrating him, as if he rewarded himself every time he managed to get Zhou Mi to raise his voice.
Kyuhyun constantly made a mess of things because he knew that it drove Zhou Mi up a wall. More often than not, Zhou Mi would be forced to watch Kyuhyun deliberately trash his apartment, and despite being the grownup he was helpless to stop the destructive behavior. Zhou Mi was a firm believer in the abstinence of physical violence, so beating him was out of the question. However, Kyuhyun was immune to the grownup voice that worked on young children, and yelling only made the teenager smug.
One time, he had left the flat to do some grocery shopping at the nearest convenience store and came back to find that his computer password had been changed and that his home screen displayed a picture of a twelve-inch penis (and he only knew it was twelve inches because the caption said as much: Want A Twelve-Inch Penis? Order One At 1-800-BIG-DICK!). Zhou Mi repressed his annoyance, knowing full well that Kyuhyun was watching for a reaction, and opted to just shut the computer off and continue his work in the old-fashioned way with a pen and notepad.
He brought his laptop to a computer specialist that night after Han Geng picked Kyuhyun and immediately regretted it when the specialist shot him a weird look the moment his laptop powered up to show his display picture. Zhou Mi stood through the embarrassment at the sight of Kyuhyun’s choice of desktop wallpaper and decided that any explanation he offered to pacify the situation would only further his humiliation. From then on he always put his computer on password protect when he was not using it. Kyuhyun only gave him a knowing smile that made Zhou Mi’s blood boil.
Juvenile pranks like those became a constant presence in the household, to the point where Zhou Mi had half a mind just to put a lock or password on anything that could possibly be locked or password-protected. Kyuhyun had found a can of tomato juice one time, and what seemed like a perfectly sane request for a can opener turned into a horror fest in the bathroom. Zhou Mi had almost died from a heart attack when he entered the shower to find the words YOU’RE NEXT written in blood-red script that looked much too realistic to be tomato juice.
Kyuhyun heard his shriek from outside the bathroom and his gleeful boyish laugh reverberated around the whole flat. Zhou Mi said nothing and just aimed shower water at the disturbingly red message, relaxing only slightly when the last of it washed down the drain. He had never wanted to murder someone so much before.
During his Pre-Kyuhyun days, Zhou Mi loathed weekends. He usually spent them alone in his apartment or on a lonely stroll in the park where he watched dogs run after Frisbees and contemplated his pathetic life.
If there was one upside to having Kyuhyun around, it was the inauguration of Zhou Mi’s default appreciation for weekends. Weekends meant peace, quiet, and (best of all) no Kyuhyun since his uncles had days off. That meant he had the apartment to himself, and was not in danger of having his life being made miserable. Hallelujah, indeed.
Surprisingly enough, from what Zhou Mi heard from Han Geng, the boy was a complete angel at home. Heechul was especially fond of him, especially since the boy had a quick wit and just enough snark to balance out his unassuming appearance. Han Geng often spoke about Kyuhyun to Zhou Mi on the phone, and he gushed on and on about how he was such a considerate boy who always made his bed every morning, who expressed interest in enrolling into a high school, and who was always remembered his pleases and thank yous. “He met Sungmin last week and they’ve already become fast friends. You remember Sungmin? The college student who rents the room beside us? Smart boy. They’re both smart boys.”
Zhou Mi just listened quietly and held himself back from asking if they were talking about the same person.
“It’s amazing how he adapts. I’m telling you, Zhou Mi, he’s not at all what I had expected. He’s such a sensitive kid for someone who claims to have come from the streets. He integrates himself into family life so well. It’s like he’s always belonged here.”
“Glad to know he’s adjusting.”
“He seems to be very fond of you, too,” Han Geng mentioned warmly. “From what he says, you two get along quite well. He asks me about you all the time.”
Zhou Mi raised his eyebrows and held his breath in trepidation. “Really now? How so?”
“He’s always looking through my old photo albums and asking for the stories behind every picture we took together. He looked a lot more interested in the pictures of you than the ones I show him of Han Li. We had a good laugh when I told him about that one time we went camping and I told him about your giant fear of spiders.”
“Hilarious,” Zhou Mi deadpanned, suppressing a groan. He was going to have to watch where he stepped the next time Kyuhyun came over.
Han Geng laughed. “He asks the cutest questions, too. Just yesterday, out of the blue, he asked what your favorite color was.”
This surprised Zhou Mi. “Really? Why?”
“Didn’t think to ask. I just told him that you liked black and white.”
Zhou Mi smiled serenely. “You know me too well.”
“Well, you are my best friend. It’d be a crime if I didn’t know that about you.” A short giggle came from the other end of the receiver, and Zhou Mi closed his eyes and smiled. “Thanks for doing this, Zhou Mi, I know that you didn’t need to.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Zhou Mi found himself saying. Wow, did that sound odd coming from his own mouth. “Kyuhyun’s a good boy. He’s no trouble at all.” The blatant lie made him grimace involuntarily but he tried not to think too much about it.
When Monday came rolling in, Zhou Mi greeted Han Geng with a blinding smile and continued the charade of how well he and Kyuhyun got along. He even took the liberty of violently ruffling Kyuhyun’s curly hair with an emphasized he’s a good child, what a cute child, such a sweet child, feeling morbidly proud of himself at the sight of Kyuhyun’s clenched fists and annoyed jaw twitch. Han Geng was completely oblivious to the silent animosity, and he only thanked Zhou Mi profusely before straightening his work tie and leaving with a small wave.
“Taking me in to butter up a married man,” Kyuhyun derided the moment Zhou Mi closed the door. “Smooth, dude. Smooth.”
“I’m not buttering him up,” Zhou Mi retorted, voice scathing. “I’ve accepted that nothing would ever happen between us for a long time already. I’m only taking you in because that’s my job as his best friend.”
“So I’m just a job to you.”
“What else could you be?” The contemptuous words left Zhou Mi’s mouth before he could think twice about them, and he winced at what a low blow it was. Guilt immediately deposited itself on his mind but honestly, he was too angry to apologize. Considerate boy, my ass.
Three long beats passed before Kyuhyun snorted and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Right. Of course. I’m just a child, after all. What do I know?” He spun on his heel towards Zhou Mi’s bedroom and slammed the door, refusing to emerge until Han Geng came to pick him up.
That night, just as he was about to catch some shuteye, Zhou Mi noticed a small keychain made of black and white beads on his nightstand. He felt its smoothness with the pads of his fingers and examined the simplicity of the craft. It was neat and accurate-no wire was out of place and the knot was firm and solid. The placement of the black beads spelled out his initials.
He buried his face into his hands and muffled the scream of frustration that was threatening to escape his voice box. Definitely not sleeping tonight. God, he hated teenagers.
Han Geng rang him up the next morning at bloody six a.m., and if it was anybody else, Zhou Mi would have been annoyed to no end. Then again, Han Geng was an exception for a lot of things. Always had been.
“Hey, what’s up?” he answered good-naturedly despite the fact that his eyes burned and his head felt like exploding.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No, of course not,” Zhou Mi lied, sitting up as painlessly as he could. “What happened this time? You never call before,” he checked the clock, “six fifteen in the morning.”
“Just wanted to let you know that apparently Kyuhyun has a job interview and possible trial period this morning at Starbucks. Did you know about this?”
Zhou Mi frowned. “Not at all. Kyuhyun hasn’t said anything about that.”
“It’s so sudden. I mean, I’m glad that he’s trying to be a responsible person by garnering work experience, but one would think that at least one of us would have known that he was considering it.” Han Geng laughed a little bit. “Well, now I know why he stayed up all night on the computer. He had a resume and cover letter ready this morning.”
“Wow,” Zhou Mi’s eyes trailed towards the keychain on his nightstand. “You don’t say. How the hell did he get an interview, though? Usually people send in their resume and cover letter before getting an interview.”
“Sungmin works part-time at Starbucks, and they were short on staff ever since the school term started up. Apparently they would have hired any young fledgling willing to make coffee for five hours every day.” Han Geng sighed happily. “I’m proud of him, Zhou Mi. He amazes me every day.”
“He’s an amazing boy,” Zhou Mi breathed out, surprised to find out that he meant it.
They talked about the mundane aspects of their lives for another hour or so until Han Geng had to get ready for work, and Zhou Mi spent the rest of the day staring at his computer at a blank Word document, carefully not thinking about how the apartment seemed too big without an annoying teenager trashing it up.
Zhou Mi learned the next day that Kyuhyun had landed the part-time job and somehow managed to time his four-hour shifts perfectly so that Sungmin could drive the both of them to work and Han Geng could pick him up on his way back home. This cut down the five days he spent at Zhou Mi’s to two, which did not please Zhou Mi as much as it just unnerved him.
Zhou Mi decided not to dwell on it, settling merely for a short congratulations and leaving it at that, thank you very much.
The pranks stopped, at least. Kyuhyun reverted back to his original quiet stoic self. There were no more overturned wardrobes or hacked computers or tomato juice death threats on the shower walls. There were no more snarky remarks or derisive laughs. Just slight head nods and noncommittal shrugs over lunch and one-worded answers at dinner at best. If Zhou Mi had not lived through the past month being driven mad by the very same person who sat in front of him, he would have never known.
Zhou Mi had no idea how to fix it.
“Thank you for the keychain,” he mentioned one day over dinner.
Kyuhyun paused for a millisecond before continuing to poke at his rice with the ends of his chopsticks. Zhou Mi could have sworn that behind that nonchalant facade there was a hint of a smile.
“It was very thoughtful of you,” Zhou Mi continued, gaining confidence. “I really like it. Did you make it yourself?”
A nod and shrug. “Found beads lying around the place. Might as well make something out of it.”
“Very creative of you. It reminds me of a gift that your uncle gave me when I was fifteen. Both of us were really into Star Wars back then, so he fashioned light-sabers out of sticks he found in the neighborhood park and painted them red and blue.” He smiled at the memory. “We had so much fun reenacting the fight scene from The Return of the Jedi that we didn’t notice-”
Kyuhyun abruptly pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “May I be excused?” he bit out. His hands were shaking despite the controlled coolness of his voice.
Zhou Mi put down his chopsticks and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, we need to talk.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then don’t eat,” the writer took Kyuhyun’s unfinished bowl and set it aside. “Sit down.”
For a moment, Zhou Mi was certain that Kyuhyun was going to put on that damn or what? smirk that never failed to grate on his nerves, but was surprised when the boy actually did as he was told and quietly sat back down. Zhou Mi mentally gave himself a point on his point system.
Zhou Mi folded his hands on the table. “First of all, I wanted to apologize for the other day. It was wrong of me to say that you were only a job to me. I’m sorry if I offended or hurt you in any way.”
Kyuhyun shifted in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the floor.
“You don’t accept my apology, do you?”
“I can’t.”
“Oh.” It was Zhou Mi’s turn to shift uncomfortably. “Yah, I guess I deserve it. It was a really harsh thing to say.”
“No, I meant-” Kyuhyun searched his brain for the right words for several moments before giving up in a huff. “How are you real?”
“Excuse me?”
Kyuhyun waved him off impatiently. “Never mind. Just, no apology needed or whatever. Are we done?”
Zhou Mi lifted a curious eyebrow. “Not quite. I wanted to talk about your job. Not to say it’s not a great thing because I’m proud of you-all of us are, Han Geng especially-but I just wanted to make sure, not to be presumptuous, that you didn’t apply for the job because of what I said.”
“Of course not” was the mumbled reply, but somehow Zhou Mi knew he was lying. Guilt flared in the pit of his stomach.
“Alright. Do you like your job, at least?”
Kyuhyun gave him a much-deserved stink eye. “I’m wearing a ridiculous green apron, faking a smile during rush hour, and making coffee and coffee derivatives for irritable caffeine-deprived customers. How much could anybody like it?”
Zhou Mi snorted. “Fair enough. Well, look at the bright side: at least you’ll be getting money out of it.”
The teenager grunted but the corners of his lips twitched.
Zhou Mi felt himself relax considerably. Dealing with teenagers required so much effort. He wondered how regular parents dealt with them. “Thanks again for the keychain.”
“S’just a stupid keychain,” Kyuhyun muttered.
“Well, it’s a keychain that you gave me. That’s got to mean something.”
The smile that Kyuhyun gave him was small in appearance but it lit up the room all the same. There was a glow on his face. “Whatever.”
Soon enough, Kyuhyun started opening up. Not all at once, of course. More like at a glacial pace where he would drop hints and make a comment about his past before moving onto more recent topics, usually in the form of backhanded insults (“Your food is almost as good as my mother’s. She once managed to start a fire in the kitchen just by boiling water.”) Their conversations improved from being Completely One-Sided to only Heavily One-Sided, so instead of only getting grunts or one-word answers from the kid, Zhou Mi was pleased to have his questions answered in half-formed sentences. Count your blessings when you can, folks.
The more or less harmless pranks started up again, and while still annoying, they seemed to be done less to piss Zhou Mi off and more just to amuse Kyuhyun himself. The boy got bored easily, it turned out. Besides reading the many books Zhou Mi had lying around on his shelves, there really was not much else to do in his little flat.
So read he did-Kyuhyun surprised Zhou Mi yet again by turning out to be an extremely fluent and avid reader. He caught all literature references, could quote directly from Charles Dickens if he so pleased, and even bothered to remember the names of the authors whose books he read (as an author, Zhou Mi found it extremely disheartening that most people only remembered the titles of the books they read and not those who came up with said titles).
Within weeks he had finished burying his nose into whatever he could get his hands on. He read classics like Wuthering Heights and Les Misérables. He immersed himself into the epic fantasies of Tolkien and the harsh realities of Tolstoy. He buried his nose into the works of Goethe and Faulkner, analyzed the words written by Nietzsche.
After six months, Kyuhyun had read everything that was on Zhou Mi’s bookshelves, not including the dusty phonebooks (“Even my mother doesn’t have those anymore, and she didn’t own a cellphone for fifty years!”) and an old copy of some outdated Korean dictionary.
He took to reading over Zhou Mi’s shoulder when he was typing out ideas for his new novel, and while it should have annoyed Zhou Mi to no end, it really didn’t. Before Kyuhyun, he had never let anybody-not even Han Geng-read his work until he had at least a completed first draft. Somehow Kyuhyun’s presence comforted him, and he felt as if he was not alone in his quest for perfected artistic prose.
“Have you ever written a book before?” Zhou Mi asked one day as he typed. “Have you ever written at all, I mean? Just for fun?”
“Not really,” he answered with a shrug. “Not great with words. My teachers used to think that Korean was my second language because I always failed my spelling tests on purpose.”
“You should try it sometime. You’re a smart boy and you’re relatively eloquent for a teenager. I think you’d be a great author.” Zhou Mi thought for a minute. His typing ceased. “Scratch that, you’d be an even better editor.”
Kyuhyun smiled. “You think so?”
“Yah. You have a knack at knowing what good literature is. I’m honestly impressed.”
Zhou Mi may have been hallucinating, but he swore that he saw the slightest twinge of pink color Kyuhyun’s normally pale cheeks. “Well, I am an impressive person. Glad you finally noticed.”
“Get off your high and mighty pedestal,” Zhou Mi laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I didn’t say you were impressive-I said you had the potential to be impressive. There’s a difference.”
Kyuhyun grinned. “Whatever.”
“My mom died the night I showed up on Han Geng and Heechul’s doorstep.”
Zhou Mi ceased typing but he didn’t turn around.
“She was really sick-I think it was a bad pneumonia infection-but we didn’t have enough money to get her antibiotics or send her to a hospital. We hardly had enough money to pay rent.” Kyuhyun paused. His voice was cold, unwavering, almost emotionless, but Zhou Mi knew better. “When I was growing up, she never told me about my father. I only knew that his name was Han Li and that he travelled a lot. I used to sneak into the public library down the street to look him up on Google. I used to pretend that I was on one of his adventures with him-it was my dream to travel and explore the world.”
The novelist conjured a pitiful image of a small ten-year-old Kyuhyun sitting in front of a public computer, reading link after link of anything that concerned the name Han Li. “I’m glad you found us,” Zhou Mi offered, meaning it.
“I’m glad I did, too,” the boy replied, also meaning it.
Continue to Part 2
Pairing(s): QMi, side!HanChul, one-sided!GengMi, slight!KyuMin
Genre(s): Romance, warning!age-gap
Length: ~11k words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Zhou Mi is a writer with writer’s block and a broken heart. A teenager named Kyuhyun changes all that.
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Zhou Mi ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. His eyes were shriveling up and his left foot was completely numb. He winced when he attempted to stand up and closed his eyes to wait out the uncomfortable tingling that travelled up his leg. Christ, he hated writer’s block.
Despite his three-year streak as one of the greatest fiction writers in town, his last book had been a flop and his editor was driving him insane. He sighed.
After the pins and needles receded, he carefully extracted himself from his chair and limped over to his kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea. He swore when a droplet jumped up and scalded the skin of his hand, and he blew it in little puffs until the sting subsided before setting his water boiler down.
His cellphone rang from around the corner and he dragged his feet along the kitchen tiles onto the carpeted floor of his bedroom towards the sound. Zhou Mi checked caller ID and his eyes softened as he picked up. “Hey Han Geng,” he answered without skipping a beat. “What’s the matter?”
“Just checking up on you, as usual.”
Zhou Mi scoffed good-naturedly. “Don’t lie, you never call at-” he checked his watch quickly, “four in the morning.” The short strained laugh that came from the receiver made Zhou Mi’s hackles rise. Something wasn’t right. “Han Geng, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Did you know that I have a nephew?”
“No.”
Another one of those strained laughs. “Well, neither did I. But guess who showed up on my doorstep?”
Kyuhyun was a quiet boy. Quiet, but daring. He had dark brooding eyes that darted back and forth, a sharpness to them that never seemed to lose focus. His black curls were unruly, and he wore an oversized band t-shirt with loose ripped jeans and skateboard shoes. Unlike most teenagers, he hardly fidgeted, and his hands were completely still, folded neatly on his lap. His lips were chapped, his skin pale and sallow. It was unnerving to look at him.
When Zhou Mi arrived at his best friend’s apartment, he was met at the door by a very sleep-deprived Heechul, who mouthed a thank god you’re here before ushering him into the living room where Han Geng was speaking lowly to the dark presence seated quietly on the couch.
Han Geng visibly relaxed when he took notice of his best friend’s arrival. He stood and they made their way into the kitchen with one last cautious glance at the boy. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice, Zhou Mi,” he said, voice low and tense.
“Anytime,” Zhou Mi shrugged. “I was awake anyway. So, what’s the story?”
“I’m not quite sure myself. He’s been here for half an hour but he hasn’t talked.”
“At all?”
“The only thing he said was that he is Han Li’s son and his name is Kyuhyun. A Korean name, which is odd. My brother doesn’t know the first thing about the Korean language. I doubt he would give his child a Korean name.”
Zhou Mi frowned. “What makes you think that this Kyuhyun boy is telling the truth?”
Han Geng made an impatient gesture. “Well, he knew who Han Li was and apparently he tracked him all the way over here.”
“I thought Han Li was in America.”
“That’s what he said the last time I heard from him, but you never know with my brother.” Han Geng ran his hand through his hair. “Han Li could be in the middle of Russia for all I know. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him. Months since the last postcard.”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I don’t know. I’m ready to just give him a room and let him stay for a while, I guess.” Han Geng shrugged. “From the looks of it, he has nowhere else to go. For goodness’ sake, he looks barely seventeen. It wouldn’t be right if I just sent him on his way out. Besides, he doesn’t look capable of murdering us in our sleep, not as if I’m going to sleep tonight anyway. Have a few phone calls to make-probably want to track my brother down for this.”
Zhou Mi shook his head. “You did the right thing. Anything I can do to help?”
“He’s not talking no matter what Heechul and I say to him. You’re good with kids, so I figured that if anybody could make him crack, you could.”
Zhou Mi took a look at the lanky adolescent and blinked. “I’m good with kids. Not too sure if I’m good with teenagers.” With a heave, he patted his best friend on the shoulder and made his way towards the still figure on the couch. He tried not to cringe at the calculating look on the aloof teenager’s face. “Hey,” he started off hesitantly, trying to smile as gently as possible. “My name is Zhou Mi.” He waited for some sort of response, but Kyuhyun only stared at him unblinkingly until Zhou Mi cleared his throat to cut through the tension. “I’m a friend of your uncles.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not,” he mumbled, voice barely audible.
Zhou Mi blinked. “Excuse me?”
The teenager rolled his eyes but said no more.
A few awkward beats passed before Zhou Mi restarted. “Where are you from?”
Kyuhyun shrugged.
“Okay, I assume that means you don’t know,” Zhou Mi quipped though he highly doubted that was the case. “So your name is Kyuhyun. Who named you? Your mother?”
Kyuhyun shrugged again.
Zhou Mi sighed, a tired smile stretching his face. “You’re not a talkative one, are you? No matter, I’ll talk enough for the both of us. Han Geng is setting up the guest room so that you can stay the night. It won’t be long until you can settle in.” From there, Zhou Mi passed the next ten long minutes talking about trivial things like the latest movies and recent bands and the best restaurants in town (“I’ve been to all of them, so I should know.”) He was good at that, just talking in prose and long paragraphs-to be honest, it was what got him through university.
Kyuhyun just sat there, unmoving, but for some strange reason, Zhou Mi knew that despite the boy’s unresponsive demeanor, he listened to every word.
Both Han Geng and Heechul had full-time administrative jobs, which meant that they worked from eight in the morning to eight at night, sometimes even later than that. Zhou Mi caved and offered to look after Kyuhyun until they returned, and although he knew that he was probably signing up for a lot more than he could chew, it was worth the look of gratitude on Han Geng’s face.
Zhou Mi shook himself. Honestly, how hard could looking after a teenager be? It’ll be just like having a roommate. Probably a really quiet one, too, which was a plus. Zhou Mi generally was an outgoing person, but even he liked peace and quiet when he could get it.
The first few days of this arrangement were awkward and wary. Han Geng dropped Kyuhyun off at seven in the morning, and after a quick tour of the flat (“kitchen is on the left, help yourself to anything you want, the bathroom is beside the bedroom on your right”), Zhou Mi left him to his own devices. Teenagers needed space, a lot of space. Every parenting guide said as much.
Zhou Mi felt as if they were circling around each other like wild animals ready to pounce. Every time they used the bathroom or entered the kitchen or even just sat in the same room together, the tension in the air was so thick a knife could cut through it. Zhou Mi felt like he was wading through shark waters.
Of course, Zhou Mi did his best to accommodate and empathize. It was natural for a young boy to feel out of place in the presence of a stranger. They had breakfast together in the mornings, ate lunch together in the afternoons, and sat down for dinner in the evenings. During those times, he started up meaningless conversation about the weather and football scores and inflation, giving himself a point every time he managed to coax out a little response from the boy.
Otherwise, the apartment was nearly silent save for Zhou Mi typing on the computer keyboard, and the writer could go on for stretches at a time forgetting that Kyuhyun was even there at all. Christ, the boy was quiet.
As the days passed and Kyuhyun became more used to his new surroundings, a routine was established and consequently the tension started to disperse. Zhou Mi could see the rigid lines on the boy’s face gradually relax, and it made his heart warm somewhat just knowing that he was finally adjusting. There were many questions that Zhou Mi wanted to ask-where did you come from? why are you here? what is your purpose?-but those could wait for another time. Zhou Mi was nothing but patient.
It only took two weeks for Kyuhyun to start showing his true colors. If Zhou Mi had ever believed that taking care of a teenager was simple, he was promptly proven wrong the moment he walked in to check on Kyuhyun to find pretty much his whole bedroom overturned. It looked like a hurricane had passed through the room. Much of his clothing had been removed from the coat hangers and strewn around, paper littered the floor, and in the middle of the room there Kyuhyun was, serenely sprawled out on the carpet reading Zhou Mi’s college journal.
A pair of dark amused eyes turned his way, challenging him to say something.
Zhou Mi blinked several times and quickly regained his composure. “What happened here?” he asked in his best grownup voice.
Kyuhyun only rolled his eyes and smirked. “‘English lectures are dull as granite,’” he read aloud from the journal. “‘The only reason why I stay awake is because my dear Han Geng is sitting beside me-my rock, my soul, my love. Only his presence can make any lecture bearable.’”
Zhou Mi felt his face grow hot but he forced himself to keep his expression cool. “That’s private.”
“Hide it better next time, then,” Kyuhyun replied airily.
“I respected your privacy. I had assumed that you would do the same.”
“Well, assumptions are dangerous.”
Zhou Mi clenched his fists and made his way towards the teenager to swipe the journal away from underneath his skinny fingers. “I’ll leave you to clean this mess up.”
Kyuhyun languidly rolled onto his back and quirked an eyebrow up at him. “And what if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll let your uncle know that you require some disciplining.”
Kyuhyun barked out a short laugh. “Disciplining? Really? Is that all you could come up with?”
It took all of Zhou Mi’s willpower not to grind his teeth together. “That’s what grown-ups do to children who misbehave.”
The teenager’s eyes hardened. “I’m not a child.”
Zhou Mi smirked. As arrogant as Kyuhyun looked, he sucked at hiding his weak spots. “I’m your babysitter, you’re the baby. So technically, ‘child’ is an understatement on your behalf.”
“I’m not a child!”
“You keep telling yourself that. Whatever gets you through the night.”
“I know what gets you through the night,” Kyuhyun sneered. He rolled his eyes back in mock ecstasy and started to writhe. “Oh, Han Geng, oh, that feels so good, don’t stop-!”
“That’s enough!” Zhou Mi shouted, mortification making him stiff with anger. Kyuhyun only grinned, knowing he had won the battle. Zhou Mi was so close to strangling the boy. “I expect this mess to be cleaned up by the time I’m done making dinner. Schedule accordingly.”
He stalked out of the room with what was left of his dignity, closed the door, and locked the journal in his wine cabinet, double-checking that the lock was securely fastened. Then he closed his eyes and heaved out a tired sigh. He decided that he hated teenagers, totally utterly hated them.
To be honest, Zhou Mi was surprised that Kyuhyun did not immediately sell him out to his uncle, but he did his best not to show it when Han Geng dropped the boy off at the door the next day and everything was perfectly normal. Kyuhyun seemed to know of his surprise anyway, though, judging by his arrogant demeanor and suggestive looks over breakfast.
Since the incident with the journal, Zhou Mi learned to always keep his guard up and to refrain from showing any signs of annoyance. Kyuhyun seemed to feed off of frustrating him, as if he rewarded himself every time he managed to get Zhou Mi to raise his voice.
Kyuhyun constantly made a mess of things because he knew that it drove Zhou Mi up a wall. More often than not, Zhou Mi would be forced to watch Kyuhyun deliberately trash his apartment, and despite being the grownup he was helpless to stop the destructive behavior. Zhou Mi was a firm believer in the abstinence of physical violence, so beating him was out of the question. However, Kyuhyun was immune to the grownup voice that worked on young children, and yelling only made the teenager smug.
One time, he had left the flat to do some grocery shopping at the nearest convenience store and came back to find that his computer password had been changed and that his home screen displayed a picture of a twelve-inch penis (and he only knew it was twelve inches because the caption said as much: Want A Twelve-Inch Penis? Order One At 1-800-BIG-DICK!). Zhou Mi repressed his annoyance, knowing full well that Kyuhyun was watching for a reaction, and opted to just shut the computer off and continue his work in the old-fashioned way with a pen and notepad.
He brought his laptop to a computer specialist that night after Han Geng picked Kyuhyun and immediately regretted it when the specialist shot him a weird look the moment his laptop powered up to show his display picture. Zhou Mi stood through the embarrassment at the sight of Kyuhyun’s choice of desktop wallpaper and decided that any explanation he offered to pacify the situation would only further his humiliation. From then on he always put his computer on password protect when he was not using it. Kyuhyun only gave him a knowing smile that made Zhou Mi’s blood boil.
Juvenile pranks like those became a constant presence in the household, to the point where Zhou Mi had half a mind just to put a lock or password on anything that could possibly be locked or password-protected. Kyuhyun had found a can of tomato juice one time, and what seemed like a perfectly sane request for a can opener turned into a horror fest in the bathroom. Zhou Mi had almost died from a heart attack when he entered the shower to find the words YOU’RE NEXT written in blood-red script that looked much too realistic to be tomato juice.
Kyuhyun heard his shriek from outside the bathroom and his gleeful boyish laugh reverberated around the whole flat. Zhou Mi said nothing and just aimed shower water at the disturbingly red message, relaxing only slightly when the last of it washed down the drain. He had never wanted to murder someone so much before.
During his Pre-Kyuhyun days, Zhou Mi loathed weekends. He usually spent them alone in his apartment or on a lonely stroll in the park where he watched dogs run after Frisbees and contemplated his pathetic life.
If there was one upside to having Kyuhyun around, it was the inauguration of Zhou Mi’s default appreciation for weekends. Weekends meant peace, quiet, and (best of all) no Kyuhyun since his uncles had days off. That meant he had the apartment to himself, and was not in danger of having his life being made miserable. Hallelujah, indeed.
Surprisingly enough, from what Zhou Mi heard from Han Geng, the boy was a complete angel at home. Heechul was especially fond of him, especially since the boy had a quick wit and just enough snark to balance out his unassuming appearance. Han Geng often spoke about Kyuhyun to Zhou Mi on the phone, and he gushed on and on about how he was such a considerate boy who always made his bed every morning, who expressed interest in enrolling into a high school, and who was always remembered his pleases and thank yous. “He met Sungmin last week and they’ve already become fast friends. You remember Sungmin? The college student who rents the room beside us? Smart boy. They’re both smart boys.”
Zhou Mi just listened quietly and held himself back from asking if they were talking about the same person.
“It’s amazing how he adapts. I’m telling you, Zhou Mi, he’s not at all what I had expected. He’s such a sensitive kid for someone who claims to have come from the streets. He integrates himself into family life so well. It’s like he’s always belonged here.”
“Glad to know he’s adjusting.”
“He seems to be very fond of you, too,” Han Geng mentioned warmly. “From what he says, you two get along quite well. He asks me about you all the time.”
Zhou Mi raised his eyebrows and held his breath in trepidation. “Really now? How so?”
“He’s always looking through my old photo albums and asking for the stories behind every picture we took together. He looked a lot more interested in the pictures of you than the ones I show him of Han Li. We had a good laugh when I told him about that one time we went camping and I told him about your giant fear of spiders.”
“Hilarious,” Zhou Mi deadpanned, suppressing a groan. He was going to have to watch where he stepped the next time Kyuhyun came over.
Han Geng laughed. “He asks the cutest questions, too. Just yesterday, out of the blue, he asked what your favorite color was.”
This surprised Zhou Mi. “Really? Why?”
“Didn’t think to ask. I just told him that you liked black and white.”
Zhou Mi smiled serenely. “You know me too well.”
“Well, you are my best friend. It’d be a crime if I didn’t know that about you.” A short giggle came from the other end of the receiver, and Zhou Mi closed his eyes and smiled. “Thanks for doing this, Zhou Mi, I know that you didn’t need to.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Zhou Mi found himself saying. Wow, did that sound odd coming from his own mouth. “Kyuhyun’s a good boy. He’s no trouble at all.” The blatant lie made him grimace involuntarily but he tried not to think too much about it.
When Monday came rolling in, Zhou Mi greeted Han Geng with a blinding smile and continued the charade of how well he and Kyuhyun got along. He even took the liberty of violently ruffling Kyuhyun’s curly hair with an emphasized he’s a good child, what a cute child, such a sweet child, feeling morbidly proud of himself at the sight of Kyuhyun’s clenched fists and annoyed jaw twitch. Han Geng was completely oblivious to the silent animosity, and he only thanked Zhou Mi profusely before straightening his work tie and leaving with a small wave.
“Taking me in to butter up a married man,” Kyuhyun derided the moment Zhou Mi closed the door. “Smooth, dude. Smooth.”
“I’m not buttering him up,” Zhou Mi retorted, voice scathing. “I’ve accepted that nothing would ever happen between us for a long time already. I’m only taking you in because that’s my job as his best friend.”
“So I’m just a job to you.”
“What else could you be?” The contemptuous words left Zhou Mi’s mouth before he could think twice about them, and he winced at what a low blow it was. Guilt immediately deposited itself on his mind but honestly, he was too angry to apologize. Considerate boy, my ass.
Three long beats passed before Kyuhyun snorted and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Right. Of course. I’m just a child, after all. What do I know?” He spun on his heel towards Zhou Mi’s bedroom and slammed the door, refusing to emerge until Han Geng came to pick him up.
That night, just as he was about to catch some shuteye, Zhou Mi noticed a small keychain made of black and white beads on his nightstand. He felt its smoothness with the pads of his fingers and examined the simplicity of the craft. It was neat and accurate-no wire was out of place and the knot was firm and solid. The placement of the black beads spelled out his initials.
He buried his face into his hands and muffled the scream of frustration that was threatening to escape his voice box. Definitely not sleeping tonight. God, he hated teenagers.
Han Geng rang him up the next morning at bloody six a.m., and if it was anybody else, Zhou Mi would have been annoyed to no end. Then again, Han Geng was an exception for a lot of things. Always had been.
“Hey, what’s up?” he answered good-naturedly despite the fact that his eyes burned and his head felt like exploding.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No, of course not,” Zhou Mi lied, sitting up as painlessly as he could. “What happened this time? You never call before,” he checked the clock, “six fifteen in the morning.”
“Just wanted to let you know that apparently Kyuhyun has a job interview and possible trial period this morning at Starbucks. Did you know about this?”
Zhou Mi frowned. “Not at all. Kyuhyun hasn’t said anything about that.”
“It’s so sudden. I mean, I’m glad that he’s trying to be a responsible person by garnering work experience, but one would think that at least one of us would have known that he was considering it.” Han Geng laughed a little bit. “Well, now I know why he stayed up all night on the computer. He had a resume and cover letter ready this morning.”
“Wow,” Zhou Mi’s eyes trailed towards the keychain on his nightstand. “You don’t say. How the hell did he get an interview, though? Usually people send in their resume and cover letter before getting an interview.”
“Sungmin works part-time at Starbucks, and they were short on staff ever since the school term started up. Apparently they would have hired any young fledgling willing to make coffee for five hours every day.” Han Geng sighed happily. “I’m proud of him, Zhou Mi. He amazes me every day.”
“He’s an amazing boy,” Zhou Mi breathed out, surprised to find out that he meant it.
They talked about the mundane aspects of their lives for another hour or so until Han Geng had to get ready for work, and Zhou Mi spent the rest of the day staring at his computer at a blank Word document, carefully not thinking about how the apartment seemed too big without an annoying teenager trashing it up.
Zhou Mi learned the next day that Kyuhyun had landed the part-time job and somehow managed to time his four-hour shifts perfectly so that Sungmin could drive the both of them to work and Han Geng could pick him up on his way back home. This cut down the five days he spent at Zhou Mi’s to two, which did not please Zhou Mi as much as it just unnerved him.
Zhou Mi decided not to dwell on it, settling merely for a short congratulations and leaving it at that, thank you very much.
The pranks stopped, at least. Kyuhyun reverted back to his original quiet stoic self. There were no more overturned wardrobes or hacked computers or tomato juice death threats on the shower walls. There were no more snarky remarks or derisive laughs. Just slight head nods and noncommittal shrugs over lunch and one-worded answers at dinner at best. If Zhou Mi had not lived through the past month being driven mad by the very same person who sat in front of him, he would have never known.
Zhou Mi had no idea how to fix it.
“Thank you for the keychain,” he mentioned one day over dinner.
Kyuhyun paused for a millisecond before continuing to poke at his rice with the ends of his chopsticks. Zhou Mi could have sworn that behind that nonchalant facade there was a hint of a smile.
“It was very thoughtful of you,” Zhou Mi continued, gaining confidence. “I really like it. Did you make it yourself?”
A nod and shrug. “Found beads lying around the place. Might as well make something out of it.”
“Very creative of you. It reminds me of a gift that your uncle gave me when I was fifteen. Both of us were really into Star Wars back then, so he fashioned light-sabers out of sticks he found in the neighborhood park and painted them red and blue.” He smiled at the memory. “We had so much fun reenacting the fight scene from The Return of the Jedi that we didn’t notice-”
Kyuhyun abruptly pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “May I be excused?” he bit out. His hands were shaking despite the controlled coolness of his voice.
Zhou Mi put down his chopsticks and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, we need to talk.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then don’t eat,” the writer took Kyuhyun’s unfinished bowl and set it aside. “Sit down.”
For a moment, Zhou Mi was certain that Kyuhyun was going to put on that damn or what? smirk that never failed to grate on his nerves, but was surprised when the boy actually did as he was told and quietly sat back down. Zhou Mi mentally gave himself a point on his point system.
Zhou Mi folded his hands on the table. “First of all, I wanted to apologize for the other day. It was wrong of me to say that you were only a job to me. I’m sorry if I offended or hurt you in any way.”
Kyuhyun shifted in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the floor.
“You don’t accept my apology, do you?”
“I can’t.”
“Oh.” It was Zhou Mi’s turn to shift uncomfortably. “Yah, I guess I deserve it. It was a really harsh thing to say.”
“No, I meant-” Kyuhyun searched his brain for the right words for several moments before giving up in a huff. “How are you real?”
“Excuse me?”
Kyuhyun waved him off impatiently. “Never mind. Just, no apology needed or whatever. Are we done?”
Zhou Mi lifted a curious eyebrow. “Not quite. I wanted to talk about your job. Not to say it’s not a great thing because I’m proud of you-all of us are, Han Geng especially-but I just wanted to make sure, not to be presumptuous, that you didn’t apply for the job because of what I said.”
“Of course not” was the mumbled reply, but somehow Zhou Mi knew he was lying. Guilt flared in the pit of his stomach.
“Alright. Do you like your job, at least?”
Kyuhyun gave him a much-deserved stink eye. “I’m wearing a ridiculous green apron, faking a smile during rush hour, and making coffee and coffee derivatives for irritable caffeine-deprived customers. How much could anybody like it?”
Zhou Mi snorted. “Fair enough. Well, look at the bright side: at least you’ll be getting money out of it.”
The teenager grunted but the corners of his lips twitched.
Zhou Mi felt himself relax considerably. Dealing with teenagers required so much effort. He wondered how regular parents dealt with them. “Thanks again for the keychain.”
“S’just a stupid keychain,” Kyuhyun muttered.
“Well, it’s a keychain that you gave me. That’s got to mean something.”
The smile that Kyuhyun gave him was small in appearance but it lit up the room all the same. There was a glow on his face. “Whatever.”
Soon enough, Kyuhyun started opening up. Not all at once, of course. More like at a glacial pace where he would drop hints and make a comment about his past before moving onto more recent topics, usually in the form of backhanded insults (“Your food is almost as good as my mother’s. She once managed to start a fire in the kitchen just by boiling water.”) Their conversations improved from being Completely One-Sided to only Heavily One-Sided, so instead of only getting grunts or one-word answers from the kid, Zhou Mi was pleased to have his questions answered in half-formed sentences. Count your blessings when you can, folks.
The more or less harmless pranks started up again, and while still annoying, they seemed to be done less to piss Zhou Mi off and more just to amuse Kyuhyun himself. The boy got bored easily, it turned out. Besides reading the many books Zhou Mi had lying around on his shelves, there really was not much else to do in his little flat.
So read he did-Kyuhyun surprised Zhou Mi yet again by turning out to be an extremely fluent and avid reader. He caught all literature references, could quote directly from Charles Dickens if he so pleased, and even bothered to remember the names of the authors whose books he read (as an author, Zhou Mi found it extremely disheartening that most people only remembered the titles of the books they read and not those who came up with said titles).
Within weeks he had finished burying his nose into whatever he could get his hands on. He read classics like Wuthering Heights and Les Misérables. He immersed himself into the epic fantasies of Tolkien and the harsh realities of Tolstoy. He buried his nose into the works of Goethe and Faulkner, analyzed the words written by Nietzsche.
After six months, Kyuhyun had read everything that was on Zhou Mi’s bookshelves, not including the dusty phonebooks (“Even my mother doesn’t have those anymore, and she didn’t own a cellphone for fifty years!”) and an old copy of some outdated Korean dictionary.
He took to reading over Zhou Mi’s shoulder when he was typing out ideas for his new novel, and while it should have annoyed Zhou Mi to no end, it really didn’t. Before Kyuhyun, he had never let anybody-not even Han Geng-read his work until he had at least a completed first draft. Somehow Kyuhyun’s presence comforted him, and he felt as if he was not alone in his quest for perfected artistic prose.
“Have you ever written a book before?” Zhou Mi asked one day as he typed. “Have you ever written at all, I mean? Just for fun?”
“Not really,” he answered with a shrug. “Not great with words. My teachers used to think that Korean was my second language because I always failed my spelling tests on purpose.”
“You should try it sometime. You’re a smart boy and you’re relatively eloquent for a teenager. I think you’d be a great author.” Zhou Mi thought for a minute. His typing ceased. “Scratch that, you’d be an even better editor.”
Kyuhyun smiled. “You think so?”
“Yah. You have a knack at knowing what good literature is. I’m honestly impressed.”
Zhou Mi may have been hallucinating, but he swore that he saw the slightest twinge of pink color Kyuhyun’s normally pale cheeks. “Well, I am an impressive person. Glad you finally noticed.”
“Get off your high and mighty pedestal,” Zhou Mi laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I didn’t say you were impressive-I said you had the potential to be impressive. There’s a difference.”
Kyuhyun grinned. “Whatever.”
“My mom died the night I showed up on Han Geng and Heechul’s doorstep.”
Zhou Mi ceased typing but he didn’t turn around.
“She was really sick-I think it was a bad pneumonia infection-but we didn’t have enough money to get her antibiotics or send her to a hospital. We hardly had enough money to pay rent.” Kyuhyun paused. His voice was cold, unwavering, almost emotionless, but Zhou Mi knew better. “When I was growing up, she never told me about my father. I only knew that his name was Han Li and that he travelled a lot. I used to sneak into the public library down the street to look him up on Google. I used to pretend that I was on one of his adventures with him-it was my dream to travel and explore the world.”
The novelist conjured a pitiful image of a small ten-year-old Kyuhyun sitting in front of a public computer, reading link after link of anything that concerned the name Han Li. “I’m glad you found us,” Zhou Mi offered, meaning it.
“I’m glad I did, too,” the boy replied, also meaning it.
Continue to Part 2