“For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.” - Judy Garland Foreword  Sehun had not been to the library in quite a while. He remembered back in grade 6 when he was probably the tiniest youngster at school ,that the library had been his solace. He would squeak a fleeting hello to the overly kind librarian, then proceed to squirt in between shelves, scanning the titles with his professional eagle eyes, and extracting the best book. It had qualifications though. For example, the bind had to be correctly aligned, as well as the font on the bind not to flashy or exquisite. That would mean that the author is only trying to catch the reader’s eye. That the book is actually no good. Then one must make sure of whether or not the book is worn out or not. If the book looks used, then it is a popular overly used book that only makes the hollow heads read for once in their life. But if it’s not tearing apart, and only small white strings from the bind are shown, then it makes the book an underdog. An amazing genius creation that was so often overlooked. Sehun really was a pro, and in reality he remembered how as a child, he vowed to become a librarian so to recommend the best legend the best novels to aspiring readers or authors.But that dream failed to come true. That sparkling gleam and shining hopeful aspiration disappeared unknowingly into his future. Literally. The older he grew, the more his dreams evaded him, as If hiding. Or was that really the reason? Or was it those words. Those looks. Those contacts. Actually, Sehun’s not quite sure when the library failed to be his comfort anymore. It wasn’t too clear to him when he stopped.