{ He knew every name you could, and probably would, call him, but he didn’t care. He’d heard them before. }

Park Chanyeol can’t speak, not anymore. Now, he communicates the best he can, carrying around a pad and paper to get his stories out to the world, not that he has many to tell. He has a pretty simple life, a bookstore, and one good friend, but otherwise he’s alone. Being left to your thoughts isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Chanyeol learns that every day.

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