Kiseop took a look around the apartment he was standing in. This was going to be his home from now on. It wasn't particularly big, but the location was quite good, and he couldn't afford something more expensive anyway.

There were two bedrooms, one for himself and one for the guy he was going to share the apartment with; a bathroom; a kitchen that barely fit the refrigerator and a few kitchen counters and cupboards; and a living room that also served as a dining room.

He could hear the sound of someone laughing coming up the stairs and it intensified outside his front door. A few seconds later the door opened and a man stepped inside, talking animatedly on his cellphone. He didn't seem to notice Kiseop at first, but instead leaned against the wall inside the door and continued talking.

Kiseop took the opportunity to observe the guy, whom he guessed was his roommate. He looked young, possibly around Kiseop's age, and looked Korean, except that his hair was dyed blond. His voice was bright, his face round and cute and he had a kind look in his eyes. He guessed his grandmothers always held his face between their hands and pinched his cheeks. 

So Kiseop shouldn't have any reason to be nervous – this guy looked like he would never hurt a fly, rather be friends with them. No, the reason he was nervous was because this boy spoke English. Fluently, at least as far as Kiseop could tell.

Suddenly the boy looked up and noticed Kiseop, who immediately looked away; he didn't want the other to think he had been staring. The boy ended his call and put his phone in his pocket before he walked over to Kiseop, his right hand extended. Kiseop took it and they shook hands briefly.

"Woo Kevin," the blond said, a big smile lighting up his face.

"I am Lee Kiseop," Kiseop stuttered in English. "You... call... you can... your call... um, continue." This was embarrassing. English had always been the subject he had been worst at and he really regretted that he hadn't studied it harder in school.

"Lee Kiseop..." Kevin repeated. "Oh, yeah, I remember. The landlord told me your name a few days ago," he said. In fluent Korean. Kiseop felt his cheeks warm up a bit. "And no worries, we had finished talking anyway," Kevin continued, still smiling.

"Okay... good," Kiseop mumbled, in Korean this time.

The silence that followed was soon turning into awkward, uncomfortable silence. Kiseop struggled for words to say. Would it be okay to ask him questions? Or should he maybe wait with trying to get to know him until maybe tomorrow?

"So, are you a student?" Kevin asked then.

"No," Kiseop answered.

"Do you work?"

"No."

"...Okay."

Kiseop thought he should maybe explain. "I moved here to look for a job. Are you a student?"

"Yes. I moved here recently, too. From America. I moved to go to university here. My parents moved to America just before my older sister was born, so we spoke both Korean and English at home." Kevin seemed to feel much more comfortable with speaking to a stranger than Kiseop felt, but maybe it was because he was from America. At least that's what Kiseop liked to think, but he knew deep inside that that wasn't the reason, or at least not the only reason. It was Kiseop who was uncomfortable with talking to strangers, since he wasn't used to it and he had quite a few bad memories from such situations. Most of them involving someone pretending to be nice but then just bullying him instead.

"I'll be in my room, but if you need help with anything, just let me know, okay?" Kevin said.

"Okay."

Kevin retreated to his room, but Kiseop stayed in the middle of the living room for a little while longer, staring after the boy who had disappeared behind the closed door to his room. If he could move here from the other side of the world, Kiseop could do this, too, right?
 

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Kiseop lay awake in his bed for a long time that night, thinking.

His parents died in a car crash in November last year. He had been in his last year of high school. He had been one of the top students in his year, but his grades had dropped so much because of the loss that he just barely had been able to graduate.

He hadn't had any friends; the only real friend he had ever had had been his neighbor, but he had moved away when Kiseop started in his second year of primary school. He had never been able to see him again after he moved, because two years after that, he had died.

Kiseop had been bullied for many years. First it had been because of his friend who moved away, then because of his clothes, his hair, his face, his good grades, his hobbies... When the bullies had run out of things to bully him for, they made up something new. They made rumors that they then bullied him for.

Kiseop had only been able to change primary school, which had ceased the bullying for a few years, but his hometown was so small that there was only one middle school and one high school. The bullying continued again when he was reunited with his old classmates in middle school.

Everyone wasn't bad, of course. There were some people he had talked to sometimes, maybe hung out with once or twice, but they were never real friends.

Kiseop had spent most of his free time studying. And it had showed, of course. But when his parents – the only family he had left, except for a few relatives who lived far away from his hometown – died, he couldn't do it anymore. All the studying, the pressure on him as one of the best students in his year, had slowly worn him out over the years. He couldn't take it anymore. All motivation to even open a textbook left him. He didn't have any dreams for the future, he hadn't even applied for a single university.

He had lived the last months on his own, but when he finally graduated he had packed his bags and moved to Seoul, to start a new life and look for a job. Cliché maybe, but what could he do? He couldn't stand living in his hometown for one minute longer.
 

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