"Jaebum came back last week, have you seen him already?” Just by hearing that particular name in his own father’s mouth makes Mark go berserk. It stopped for quite a while when that kid went to study abroad, but some not-so-subtle comments still passed. Like, ‘look, Jaebum’s studying in the UK’, ‘Have you heard he graduated with honors?’ and some other .

He gives the older man no reply and just continues eating. He knows that it wouldn’t work, but he’s got no spare damn to give towards that Jaebum kid.

“I always admired that kid, brave, intelligent, kind, what else? Well, what else can a parent ask for?” the father continues, totally disregarding his son’s hatred towards the topic.

Without uttering a word, he leaves the table and goes to his car. He hears his father asking him about what’s wrong and where he’s going especially when it’s already eight at night.

He paid no attention and drives to the nearest bar. His father taught him to disinfect his wound with alcohol. He was just not able to clear it out if it applies towards emotional wounds as well, but he couldn’t care less.

Mark should have a thicker skin towards that topic already. Ever since his father met that ing Im Jaebum when he was ten, he never stopped talking about him like the kid is his own son. Everything he does get compared to what the younger, but supposedly smarter guy, does.

From their awards in grade school and high school to their extracurricular activities, to their University plans, and even as a human person. The younger boy seemed to be better in all aspects in his father’s eyes, like he’s not worth a ‘good job, son’, it’s always ‘Jaebum’s so nice, so smart, so everything and you’re nothing’.

He never had a good level of tolerance towards alcohol, (and can you believe that his father made a ing comment about it too?) he’d fall drunk after just the fourth bottle.  Not liking how the barista is hitting on him, he goes out and drives around. He might get himself killed with his recklessness, but who cares? Sometimes he thinks that he’s just better off six feet under the ground rather than breathing and seemingly perfectly fine, but die every time his father talks about that ing Im Jaebum.

He is actually thinking of hitting himself on the light post few meters away from him, but he thinks he might cause a greater trouble and his father would think that he doesn’t have to bother everyone with his always second best life, Jaebum could always do better than him.

He gets out of his car and runs as fast as he can towards the riverbank, it’s a good idea, drowning himself will do. He can’t really feel his limbs, when he is about to jump to skip the fence, he twists his feet and crashes towards the fence.

He could almost hear his father saying, ‘what the hell Mark? Can’t even jump off the fence successfully? I’m sure Jaebum could do better than you.’ Maybe it is because of all his pent up emotions about his father that makes his tears overflow from his eyes.

Then a stranger whom he can’t really see the face goes to him and utter words he can’t make up. The stranger’s palm is also warm against his face, so when the unknown guy hugs him, he gives in, crying harder.

At least someone thinks he’s worth the hug. Just after a few moments, two other guys come, thinking that if he’s gonna get mobbed, they should kill him as well. But the next thing he knows is he’s being carried on the back of the warm stranger and he blacks out few minutes later.

With a throbbing headache and a painful body, Mark wakes up in a very unfamiliar room.  He checks himself, noticing that he’s still dressed in his yesterday’s clothes. It also seems like nothing’s missing.

When he is about to stand up, the door bolts open to reveal a very short, but muscular guy. The said guy goes to sit on the bed beside his and gives him a medicine, a glass of water, and a very caring smile.

“Good morning,” the guy says after Mark took the medicine.

“Good morning, umm. Thank you?” Mark feels slightly uncomfortable with the short guy’s smile.

“You’re welcome, my name is Jackson.” The short guy offers his hand, sticking it way too close with Mark.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.” Of course, he takes the hand to which the short guy smiles wider.

“Let’s go down and eat breakfast?” Mark nods and follows Jackson downstairs. There are already three men sitting in the dining area.

They greet him when they saw him coming, it’s his first time to be here and it’s his first time to be in such a homey place. He can smell the coffee being brewed and the aroma of freshly fried omelet and sweetened pork plus the sound of the silent clanks of the spoon and fork.

“How are you?” says the guy who starts playing food on his plate as soon as he takes the seat beside him. The guy’s probably a lot taller than Jackson, but slimmer and lesser masculine.

“Uhh. My head hurts a little, but I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” he has to thanks because he rarely hears someone asking him if he’s fine.

“I’ll make you an orange juice later; I heard that’s good for hangovers. By the way, I’m Jinyoung.” Unlike Jackson who offers him a hand to him, Jinyoung places his arm on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’m Bambam!” the youngest looking guy says, topping it with a peace sign. “I’m Nichkhun, Nichkhun hyung for you. Next time, don't drink too much if you can’t hold your alcohol. You’re lucky these kids who found you are nice, I shouldn’t be lecturing you early in the morning, but as a concerned hyung, you should know what to do next time, okay?” the oldest guy starts off in a very serious tone but later on falls into a caring one.

He feels warm and fuzzy inside, where were these people when he was younger? Where were these people when he needed someone to care to him? Where were they? He bit his lips to block the sudden tsunami of emotions; he nods to the Nichkhun and suddenly feels a warm hand over his.

“Eat well!” Jackson, who slowly removes his hand, says with a bright smile.

“Thank you very much.” He says in a rather very awkw