It had to be a joke.  Some kind of a hoax.  An elaborate prank by some crazy cult or just a bunch of stupid college kids out for a good laugh.  Things like this didn’t happen in reality, it was too crazy.  Life wasn’t a graphic novel.  The end of the world was a notion, an idea, metaphorical, not a literal event. People didn’t really become monsters.

  “Hyung, you love me?”

I looked into your eyes and I swear, I swear, I saw something akin to affection there.  Maybe not full-blown love, but affection of some kind that told me you weren’t opposed to this.  That maybe if I pressed a little harder, I could make you forget him and see only me. All I wanted was for you to look at me.

"It's okay.  We'll be together, don't worry..."