Eight years. It has been eight years of falling into despair and darkness. His feelings does not matter anymore. His thoughts, clouded by the sense of touches and intimacy. His mind is too numb, too faint to think about his state. Sometimes he opens his eyes and realises he does not belong to this place, but those thoughts are soon surpassed by strange liquor. After being laying like a corpse his eyes do opens after a time only to be see faint shadows hovering over him --tossing his petite body. It was a crime, he was born with beauty. Those men who think they 'dominate' him and call him disgusting in a sinful place were actually the one shameful and vulgar filth. One glance at his pale skin and a look so pure they would hold their thing and try to stick it where it should not. He has long lost sense of emotion. His eyes lacks the resistance.

The days he was first thrown into world' dirtiest pit hole, he would yell. Cry. Scream. Beg. Ask for someones help, anyones. No one helped him. It was only later he find out resistance would only make things worse for him. He also found that if someone were to leave injury on him he wouldn't have to do filth for next few days, so he would deliberately provoke the sinners doing the sin --inviting them to left him broken for he can have rest. At some point when he's finally left alone, broken and tired, he would faintly call out someones name. The name that is engraved in his heart. He would remember the face of man blurred after all he has been going through. But he do wishes to see him. Maybe one day.

After being tossed around for many years, he was finally raised to endurable position where he only got 'vips' nonetheless it was still filth for him. Many years later he did got the glimpse of the man he desperately wanted to see. Despite how dangerous it is for him to hold secret meetings with him he still did it. He still met you while perfectly hiding his eight years of past. He was ashamed, scared. So he met you with calming gaze. or he thinks he was calm. But for Lim Wooyeon what matters is him not the state of him. Those meetings were brief, he reserved just talking about how life has been. Until the day you came back from your work. Opening the door of your penthouse you see a figure laying on your bed. It was surprising to see him in your penthouse, let alone slumped on your bed. It was strange until you notice the blood on his black coat. Taking off his clothes not only bruises were found but the strange essence sticking on his body too. It was shocking, but you had somehow guessed it before. Changing his clothes, and dressing his wounds you finally sit beside his figure sleeping so peaceful. So precious. After few hours he finally woke up. Stressed, worried, afraid you found him in his worst. He vaguely remembers, his mind was hazy after the night out. He longed for warmth, so thought you.

"What am i doing here?" He chokes out anxiety creeping him after noticing his clothes have been changed. He fears you have seen things he wanted most to be kept hidden.