Junho didn’t understand why Siwoo had moved over to sit next to him: He thought that the other boy must have just pitied his pathetic self, but secretly hoped it wasn’t the case. At least, he hoped that Siwoo wasn’t simply motivated by empathy when he came to sit next to him.

“There’s some really weird food here. I just can’t get used to it,” Siwoo started chatting, grimacing as he looked around the dining hall, then dramatically took a bite of his strange sandwich, which seemed to be spread with some kind of jam.

Junho smiled. It was true; he rarely saw a Korean boy having a sandwich for lunch, but he understood what the other was getting at. He also suspected that Siwoo hadn’t started talking about the peculiarities of Korean cuisine because he was so fascinated by it – he simply wanted to start a conversation with a light topic. Junho was grateful for that, and also for the fact that Siwoo hadn’t made him feel more awkward; he hadn’t mentioned that he had originally wanted to sit next to him, even though it was obvious Siwoo had noticed.  Junho was almost touched by Siwoo’s consideration, and he just quietly smiled at him as he chewed his sandwich with enjoyment.

“Everyone’s slurping up soggy pasta with meat,” Siwoo continued, shaking his head, then, as if realising who he was talking to, looked up apologetically. “I don’t mean to say it’s disgusting or anything, just…”

“It’s fine,” Junho laughed honestly. “I don’t like traditional foods that much either. I usually don’t eat them, since there aren’t many vegan options in a typical Korean kitchen.”

“Vegan?” Siwoo blinked in surprise.

 Junho bit his lip again. It had been so long since he’d talked to anyone like this that he had forgotten not everyone accepted that kind of diet. Panic suddenly gripped him, fearing he’d said something wrong, and expecting Siwoo to either laugh at him or, worse, lecture him indignantly. But nothing like that happened. Siwoo sweetly smiled and spoke in a kind tone:

“I love vegan stuff, especially coconut milk. My mom’s lactose intolerant, so in England, she always bought that, and I got used to it too,” he said, playfully rolling his eyes. “I’ve met a lot of vegans in Britain, but you’re the first one here. Congratulations on the position,” he chuckled.

 Junho sighed with relief, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly as well. “Thank you. It’s truly an honour to be the first vegan Korean you’ve met.”

After that, neither of them spoke for a few seconds, just looking at each other with calm, clear expressions. Junho admired how relaxed Siwoo seemed – at least, his behaviour and appearance suggested so. The school uniform, a white shirt with a royal blue blazer and matching tie, paired with straight-cut black trousers, always made Junho think no one on earth could look anything but like a stiff nerd in it. But this theory was quickly disproven when he looked at Siwoo. The boy wore his shirt slightly unbuttoned, tie loosened, and instead of the usual shiny shoes, there were huge, extreme black boots on his feet. He didn’t look sloppy at all, but everything about him suggested: I am who I am. As the sleeve of his blazer occasionally slid up, Junho  noticed that Siwoo’s arms were adorned with tattoos, although he wouldn’t swear to what kind of text or designs they were. Then there was his slightly long, wavy dark hair, which gave sharp contours to his handsome face. Yes, Junho  thought Siwoo was handsome, because it would be hard to deny that he liked the boy’s beautifully shaped eyebrows, cute, button nose, smiling almond-shaped eyes, and thin lips, all combined with his masculine features. Junho  wasn’t fooling himself into thinking he didn’t find the sight pleasant, but he didn’t think it was particularly important either. He was simply happy to perhaps finally found a normal, same-aged person he could befriend, even though he was terrified about what would happen if Siwoo ever discovered the truth about him – if he saw his video and became completely disillusioned with him.

“Your headband is really pretty,” Siwoo finally broke the silence, but his gaze still rested on.

Junho awkwardly reached for the accessory sitting in his hair.

“You can tell me if you think it’s ridiculous or something,” he mumbled, immediately lowering his lashes because he genuinely felt the other boy had only said those words out of irony.

Siwoo raised his eyebrows slightly, then, still in disbelief but apologetically, tried to catch Junho’s gaze again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I really think it looks good. You’re beautiful.”

Beautiful. Junho’s stomach immediately tightened as his companion said the words in the most natural tone: "You’re beautiful." He didn’t even remember the last time someone had said something like that to him. He didn’t often receive compliments, and when he did, they were usually just sexual – yet there was someone sitting opposite him, saying the words like it was a fact: “You’re beautiful.” He had to fight the urge to burst into tears from the overwhelming emotion – he knew he was too sensitive, but still couldn’t control his racing, fluctuating feelings. Eventually, he just smiled gently and looked at Siwoo with grateful tears in his eyes.

“That means a lot, thank you,” he whispered, feeling that no other words could come out of his throat.

Siwoo kept smiling sweetly at him, and he just blushed, turning red like a tomato, not understanding his own emotions. Everything felt so idyllic and intimate, even if he was the only one overreacting. The few minutes were so lovely...

In the next moment, a few of their schoolmates passed by their table, laughing loudly, and before Junho could even realise what was happening around him, one of the boys called out loudly:

“Looks like our superstar has found a new admirer, gentlemen!” The boy stopped a few metres from them, but his eyes clearly stayed on them, especially on Siwoo. “Dear new boy, remember, this toy is already used a lot. Just remember we warned you!”

The loudmouth and his friends burst into hysterical laughter while everyone was looking at their direction. The idyllic atmosphere from just a few seconds ago shattered into tiny shards, like ice. Junho felt a mix of intense anger, desperation, and sadness. He couldn’t control his tears anymore. He wanted to disappear from the world, because he knew it was over: there was no point in hoping that Siwoo wouldn’t see the video now, because after this, he would easily find out, and then hate him just like everyone else. He couldn’t bear the sudden weight pressing on his shoulder – Junho rushed out of the dining hall.