Choi Beomgyu is going to be my roommate for the school's summer session.

The thought has my head spinning for the entire evening I spend with him in the dorm. First of all, he doesn't seem to be aware of his shining idol status. He hums a Taylor Swift song while getting into the shower, which is remarkably close to everything else in this confined space. He shoves his dirty clothes into a crumpled duffle bag, and he seems to fall asleep in a second with the way his snores reverberate in the tense air between us.

I wanted to escape a heartbreak. I wanted to become independent, to go crazy with the bars and night clubs and all-you-can-eat restaurants. Now I'm stealing glances at this boy, who may just be one of the most beautiful persons I've ever laid eyes on.

The next morning, Beomgyu's alarm wakes me with the relaxing strum of guitar. I groan, reaching over to my phone to check the time. 6:20 am.

"So sorry!"

Beomgyu's English must have improved over the past few months, because his words come as natural as his feet hitting the dorm room's floor. "I usually get up pretty early," he continues. "The boys at home are always fighting over the shower. So I get up early at six so I don't have to fight as hard. Smart, right?"

The correct answer is right, that's smart. I want to answer, but I'm still halfway dead on my bed. I turn to face Beomgyu and blink a few times. His features come into focus. The straight brow which matches the strong lines of his jaw. His soft nose and lips, and those eyes which can bore into a mirror with a thousand words of unspoken kindness.

Gosh, he really did get me in less than a day.

Beomgyu coughs, and part of his features melt into the softer side. He giggles a bit, just like he did when he proclaimed watermelon as his favorite summer fruit. "Jayden, you're a bit shy, yeah?"

Am I a bit shy?

I think back to my school days. When I was young, I never wanted to speak to anyone but my family members. As early as preschool, I was scared to speak. In kindergarten and first grade, I thought the silent spell would fade, but it stuck to me like superglue. By the end of elementary school, I'd accepted I would be stuck in the same position for the rest of my academic career. Too afraid to speak, too afraid to say something wrong.

Now I know that there was a word for it—selective mutism. I had chosen to only speak to my parents, grandparents, uncle, and brother.

In high school, the situation got a bit better. I found a few girls that I love and would do anything for. I started to speak in simple conversations. I found a bit of hope and love, even performing a Nicki Minaj song at the high school prom.

But there was always something missing. Maybe it had to do with the pressure of growing up gay in a Christian school. Maybe it was always feeling suffocated through having to do the right thing—by being a child who always stuck with his morals. Who never wandered outside the boundaries already prepared for him.

"I am a bit shy," I admit. To my embarrassment, my words lodge in my throat, and a squeak comes out on the last syllable.

It's Beomgyu's turn to giggle, but his is much more full. He manages to clear my fears with a simple turn of his head, a shake that makes me feel like all of my awkwardness means nothing. That I don't deserve to feel heartbroken throughout my whole summer in Seoul. I can be free. I can have joy.

"Jayden?" Beomgyu's voice is hopeful as he tests my name.

"Yeah!" I say, my voice jumping higher than an Olympic gymnast. "I mean, yeah?"

"Jayden." He has the sweetest smile, one that can cure anybody of any disease on the world. "Do you want to go get breakfast with me and the other members? We're heading over there now."

My heart jumps higher than my voice, getting stuck right at the base of my throat. "All... five of you?"

Beomgyu senses my panic immediately. He nods in one quick motion while grabbing a sheer cardigan. "Oh. We can go together. Just the two of us. That way, we can get to know each other better."

Thank God. He knew that I would be overwhelmed from seeing five of my role models at once. I would probably faint and roll into the nearest ditch if I got lunch with TOMORROW X TOGETHER.

Beomgyu tilts his jaw in my direction. I look down and realize that I'm shirtless—I took off my shirt during the night?—and that my blanket has been strewn completely aside. Basically, I am half naked in the presence of Choi Beomgyu.

"I'll get ready!" I practically scream.

I make a beeline for the bathroom. I shut the door, sit on the toilet seat, and try to breathe. I think I only succeed in summoning a blush on every inch on my skin.