The Boy In Pink

Prologue: Boys Wear Pink?

"Twenty Five! Twenty Six! Twenty Seven!"

This was one of my earliest memories of Primary School: skipping in the playground to the chanting of other 1st Grade girls. I wasn't friends with them as such: just a companion who was a skipping master. Two girls were at each end of the skipping rope, turning it simultaneously, eyes gleaming at me, the champion of today's skipping match.
My neat sailor style uniform was brand new: as I jumped, the collar of the crisp, white shirt flapped, the beige tie swished around and my skirt flew around my knees. My hair was tied up in two cute piggytails with a carnation pink plastic headband. 
Most of the boys were out playing a game of football on the field. The girls watched them and crossed their eyes and sticked out their tongues. As you can probably tell, the girls weren't the biggest fans of the boys. They stuck their tongues out as well. 
Obviously, the feelings were mutual.
I jumped over the skipping rope again, piggytails flying, oblivious to the boy's jeering. I was too busy focusing on breaking the skipping record and becoming the best double-dutcher by the time I left Primary School.
I turned my head to see one of the second grade boys sitting alone, singing under his breath. I turned my head back and ignored him, until I heard the shouting of the sweaty boys.
"Yah, Pink Boy!" yelled the biggest one, a 4th Grader. The singing boy stood up.
"Why aren't you playing dolls with the girls?" yelled a scrawny 3rd Grade boy.
The poor boy looked down at his feet. "I don't play with dolls. I sing"
The other boys laughed.
"Well you would suit the girls. You seem to love pink" said the big boy, stepping closer to him. I peered closer as I jumped. The big boy was right. He was wearing pink sweatbands on his arms and was writing on his arm in pink pen. I struggled not to giggle as I watched him quickly shove the pen in his shirt pocket. He was slowly turning bright red. I felt a bit bad then.
"Well, boys who like pink don't deserve to be called boys" said the big boy, and he pushed Pink Boy onto the ground. I gasped and stood still, forgetting the rope. I ran off and all the waiting girls groaned.
"You almost got it! Why did you leave?" they all choursed in unison.
I ignored them and ran to the group of football players.
"Leave him alone!" I said, pushing the big boy. He turned around, laughed, and poked me so hard I fell. He grabbed my headband off my head and snapped it in half.
"Don't mess with me, little girl" he said, and came up close. I winced.
"If you do, your little bones will be smashed" he whispered evilly.
The Pink Boy just stood and gaped. The football players cackled and stalked off. The boy got up and walked slowly over to me.
"Why did you push the big boy? You're a girl" he said, standing over me.
"Because he wasn't being nice to you. Saying rude stuff isn't nice"
"He broke your cool headband" he said, picking up the two halves. He gave them back to me.
"I think they're bad boys" I said. "You're a nice boy, because you didn't run away"
"I thought you were good, doing that for me. Thank you" he said, smiling. He puffed out his skinny chest. "And when I become the biggest Korean singer in the whole wide world, I'll get my hyungs and I to beat them up! And I'll get you a new pink headband"
I giggled. "Thank you. What's your name?"
"I'm Lee Sungmin. What's your name?"
"I'm Park HyeLim"
He smiled. "Cool. Do you want to be friends?"
I looked back at my girl classmates. They were glaring at me. They stalked off.
"I'd love to"
And that was the start of an unregrettable friendship.