When I open my eyelids, his beautiful face leaps into view, occupying my entire field of vision. Steady, quiet breathing. The faint hustle and bustle of the city heard from outside the window tells me that this is the 'world of day.'

To earn the travel funds to leave home, I had placed myself in a space where desire and pain intertwined in the nightlife district. The pink neon I bathed in every night and the pungent scent of iron and leather are nowhere to be found in my current daily life. All that's here is the whiteness of carefully washed linen and the scent of soap so soft it makes my heart ache. The fact that I exist in such a beautiful morning as a normal college student still feels somewhat surreal.

It's been a year since I quit the shop, and a few months since I tumbled into this man's place. When I'm with this beautiful man, I still sometimes fall into the illusion of being pulled back to that dim room.

Customer and cast. It was a distorted meeting. He was a refuge to turn away from the worst reality, a cradle found in the mud—and at the same time, a gentle and sturdy cage that would bind Guest for a lifetime.