Yeonjun twirls his pen, watching the door.

When Beomgyu doesn't come before Mr. Clements arrives and shuts the door behind him, he frowns. It's not like Beomgyu to be late to school.

He hides his phone under his desk, rapidly typing a message. Where are you? It's already homeroom.

There's no message back. That's also strange. Beomgyu is usually glued to his phone all day. One time, they were crossing the road together at Hongdae, and Beomgyu almost ran into a taxi's erratic path. Yeonjun had to grab his best friend by the arm, pulling him back. Even though it was only for a moment, he savored the line of Beomgyu's back pressed against his chest. They both breathed at the same time. Yeonjun counted the seconds where the panic and shock changed into a feeling that they both know—the undeniable effortlessness of being together.

The school day drags by, the desk next to Yeonjun's empty.

"Where's your boyfriend?" One of their friends, Mina, asks him at lunch time. The girl never really learned to develop a filter.

Yeonjun takes a large bite of his omelet fried rice, trying to distract his palate from the bitter sense of something going wrong. "Mina, Beomgyu is not my boyfriend."

She waves her spoon in the air. It catches a glint of the fluorescent lights, and he blinks in irritation. "You can't deny it forever, Yeonjun."

"I'm pretty sure Beomgyu likes you," Yeonjun says, the tips of his ears going red—from frustration or embarrassment he doesn't know.

"Why don't you find him and find out?" Mina says. She's always been stunningly pretty—dark hair, honey brown eyes, and a delicate visage—but right now the only thing Yeonjun notices is the wisdom in her measured smile. All boys are stupid, she's said before. Maybe she's right.

She is. Yeonjun finishes his lunch, sneaking through the halls, escaping out into the city. The heart of Gangnam is waiting for him. It's November, and the chill is beginning to seep into his bones. He wraps his padded jacket around him tighter, tying the scarf Beomgyu bought him for his birthday around his neck. He begins in the direction of Beomgyu's place.

His penthouse. Beomgyu is the son of the CEO of Choi Cars, a luxury vehicle brand. His mother is the daughter of a mogul in Daegu. Basically, he's been brushing his teeth with gold flecked toothpaste since the day he was born. Maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but still.

But the funny thing is, Yeonjun has never been jealous. When they first met in the playground of the orphanage, Beomgyu has always been one to share.

Yeonjun remembers the day as he walks quickly, surpassing the pace of other busy Seoulites.

"What are you doing here," Yeonjun had said, looking at the shorter boy up and down. They were both nine years old, and Beomgyu was dressed in designer overalls—LV on the buttons and pockets.

"My family is donating to this place," Beomgyu had replied. "What are you doing here?"

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. Really?

Beomgyu realized his mistake, covering his mouth with both hands. "Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay. What's your name, and how old are you?"

"Beomgyu. I'm nine," Beomgyu said. He adjusted his bangs so they swept away from his eyes. His cheeks were tinged slightly pink.

"I'm Yeonjun. And that's the same as me," Yeonjun says. "It's a shame. I was looking forward to you calling me hyung."

"I can still call you hyung," Beomgyu said. He stood straighter, hopeful. Maybe a bit eager to correct his blunder.

"Okay," Yeonjun said, smacking his fist into his palm. "And I'll just call you Beomgyu."

Beomgyu's eyebrow twitched, as if he was a bit unnerved by the unfairness. "Okay...." He reached into his pocket, revealing a box of wrapped caramels. "Sorry about that. My mom says I'm too sassy. Would you like a caramel?"

Yeonjun stepped forward, taking the candy, unwrapping it, then popping it into his mouth. "Beomgyu, I could make a fortune just by selling one of your buttons."

Beomgyu grinned. "You won't have to do that. I'll come back. And I'll bring you whatever you want."

Yeonjun was taken aback. "Okay... I'd like the new Nintendo console. What's it called again?"

"The 3DS?" Beomgyu's smile stretched wider. "Bet on it. I'll be back next week."

After their fated first meeting, Yeonjun couldn't get Beomgyu out of his mind. The orphanage was often lonely for him—he wasn't exactly bullied, but he had a hard time overcoming his shyness. He often spent his days alone on the edge of the playground, kicking around the sand with his feet.

At nine, he didn't realize that his feelings were the beginning of a crush. He just knew that he liked thinking of Beomgyu's smile, his overalls that made him look smaller—even though he was quite tall. And when he dreamed, for the first time he didn't have nightmares about his parents and the car accident that changed it all. He saw soft, pink-tinged cheeks. He heard a cheerful voice like an angel's. I'll bring you whatever you want.

Yeonjun had every right to doubt Beomgyu. Why should he trust a rich kid who probably forgot him by the time he got home, playing with the console that Yeonjun mentioned simply as a joke?

Next week, at the exact same time, Beomgyu was in the playground. His overalls were traded for a tracksuit—Adidas—that made him look like the trendiest nine-year-old athlete.

He held a box in his hands, in golden wrapping paper. Beomgyu's smile told Yeonjun everything that he needed to know—he found, perhaps, his first true friend.

Since then, Yeonjun has made Beomgyu swear not to buy him anything expensive. He was just thankful to have found someone who looked at him like he was worth something.

*

In the elevator of the luxury condominium, Yeonjun patted his long legs with his hands, nervous. He's alright. Probably overslept by playing League of Legends all night.

On the floor of the penthouse, Yeonjun catches a panorama of Seoul—a rare, sky-blue day with liquid sunshine seeping through the cold. He rasps against the door, too afraid to appear rude to Beomgyu's parents.

Beomgyu's mother answers. Mrs. Choi has treated Yeonjun like a son of her own. Constantly telling him how he changed Beomgyu for the better—and not just in a way that made him more humble.

Mrs. Choi's face is tear-streaked, her hands trembling. She's always been pretty, but this is the least put-together he's seen her. Her hair isn't straightened like usual, and it looks like she slept in her makeup—her mascara smeared across her eyelids.

"What's wrong?" Yeonjun asks, reaching out to steady his best friend's mother.

"Beomgyu." She tries to catch her breath, only succeeding in making herself choke. "He got admitted to the ward."

"Ward?"

"The psychiatric ward," she says. "I should've seen the signs. I'm such a bad mother, Yeonjun."

"No, no, you're not," Yeonjun says, even as the boundaries of his world begin to blur and tear apart. Beomgyu? Psychiatric ward? How could he have not seen the signs? "What happened?" Yeonjun manages to ask before his throat closes up.

"Mr. Choi took him to the doctor," Mrs. Choi says, appearing to calm down a bit. "Beomgyu wasn't eating or sleeping for almost a week. We were so worried, and we don't know the cause. But the doctor said he was a danger to himself, so they admitted him to the hospital."

"Which hospital?" Yeonjun prods, almost like the info will save himself.

Mrs. Choi gives him the directions. Luckily, it's only a bus stop away.

As he commutes, Yeonjun thinks about Beomgyu in the past week. His hair was a bit messier than usual. He laughed less, didn't smile at his corny dad jokes. He forgot to bring his assignment to class twice. He failed a quiz—which hasn't happened since they were first-years. At lunch, Beomgyu was nowhere to be found. But Yeonjun thought he was taking his lunch maybe in the classroom, being tutored as the star student that he is.

How could he have missed all the signs? If it's serious enough that Beomgyu's been admitted, Yeonjun really messed up. He is up for the worst best friend award.

He rakes through his mind for the causes. A classmate breaking his heart? No. Beomgyu has always been the heartbreaker. Death in the family? No, Mrs. Choi didn't mention anything pertinent. And their own relationship has been fine, not even any fights. Sure, Beomgyu was absent this past week, but it was just a rough patch in his senior year.

Right?

Yeonjun's bus pulls to the stop near the hospital. Yeonjun gets off and races down the street.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of this first chapter, and may we be blessed with many Beomjun moments during every comeback!