Fan Service [Yunho]

2

I had no idea where this strange man was taking me. In all honesty, if I had any concern for my life, I wouldn't have gotten in the car at all...but even a car with a stranger felt cozier than a home with my family.

The guard drove us out of the venue's radius, somehow avoiding all of the concert traffic in his efforts to get out of Queens. I shrugged off the hoodie he'd given me once I got too hot...I was used to being cold.

I pulled out my phone to Google info about the group but my phone was dead. I sighed and stared out the window, watching Manhattan come into view with its pretty streetlights and classily dressed crowd. I rested my head against the glass, letting the chill numb my swollen cheek. It felt nice.

"So..." the security guard spoke up with an awkward cough. "How come you didn't have any shoes on?"

I stayed quiet. Any answer that I could give would just open a larger conversation that I didn't feel like having.

"Why do you have bruises on your face?" he asked, seemingly out of genuine concern rather than being nosy.

Again, I ignored him, though, choosing to watch dogs in more expensive clothes than me be carted around in their strollers.

"You can tell me," he assured softly. "I just want to know why your face is hurt."

I took a deep breath and mumbled, "I have bruises on more than just my face."

He sucked in a sharp breath as he absorbed the information. I had on sweatpants and a hoodie so he wouldn't have known that. He glanced in the rearview mirror at me as if trying to decipher what hurt worst.

"Should I take you to a hospital?" he asked in concern right as we passed a sign indicating one was nearby.

There it was again...the random kindness from a stranger who didn't know me at all. I wondered how different my life would've been if the box office lady or this security guard had intervened when I was young enough for it to have mattered. "No. I don't have health insurance."

"I'm sure we can figure something out," he offered quietly, trying to encourage me to take care of myself.

"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before," I replied in a whisper, so ashamed of my life that saying that out loud brought tears to my eyes.

He went quiet after that. I heard sniffs from the front seat and closed my eyes against the window again, ignoring the impact my past was having on him. I'd rather be asleep than feel anything or console some guy who would forget about this tomorrow. Sleep was my escape.

At first, it had been books, but my parents stopped getting them for me after I turned 6, and my reading level progressed too fast for those to be of interest anymore. Then, I got a library card. But they'd tear those books to shreds and force me to pay the fines, so I was forced to stop reading altogether.