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Taemin meets Kibum on a thursday. Kibum is 17, in his third year of high school, majoring in international relations and linguistics, top student, and of course; class president. Taemin is 16, in his second year, majoring in the same subjects, but if you asked him he'd say that he can't remember since he's either asleep during lessons, or not there at all. He spends a lot of time on the roof of an old building not too far from his school, sometimes he even spends the night there, because he has nothing to go home to.
Having just lit his fourth cigarette, he tosses the empty package somewhere behind him. When the package doesn't make the distinctive sound of hitting ground he turns, cigarette still in his mouth and nearly chokes on the smoke he's inhaling.
-That's bad for you. But I'm guessing you already know that. The boy who caught the package hold it up and points to the safety message on the front. Taemin doesn't know what to answer to that, and since the boy clearly knows that he knows, he remains silent.
-What are you doing up here anyway? Apart from destroying your future that is. Taemin knows that hostility isn't the wisest way to go when he's on the edge of a five story building and the other boy looks slightly bigger than him, not much, but enough to be intimidating, so he swallows a why the fuck do you care and goes with the safe option, staying quiet.
-Fine. Don't tell me. I'm Kibum incase you didn't know, the school sent me to bring you back. They got tired of your childish tacts and since we have the same major I volunteered to help you.
-I'm not childish. It's not the best comeback if he wants to prove the opposite, and Kibum chuckles, clearly amused, but he fails to hide how happy he is that he got an answer.
-So you do speak? I thought those cancer-sticks might've ruined your vocal chords. How do you get them anyways, you're clearly not 19 yet. It's not a question, Kibum doesn't seem too keen on finding out, and Taemin would never tell anyone that he gets them from Minho, a kid who's father owns the grocery store down the street from where he lives. He doesn't even have to pay.
-Tell me about yourself, Taemin. I need at least something to work with if we're gonna do this. Taemin wants to scream and tell Kibum to fuck off because he doesn't even want him to be there, and he definitely doesn't want to go back to school. But instead he turns around, leans lightly on the rusty railing, drops his cigarette and watches it fall onto the pavement below. He doesn't feel like smoking anymore. He hears Kibums footsteps and prays that he's going back through that heavy iron door he came from and that he never had to see him again. But of course life doesn't work like that and prayers are almost never answered, and Kibum's skinny arms appear next to Taemin's own, slung over the railing in the same manner. Kibum's not going anywhere.