I knew it was my fault. I knew you were sick and you always told me that you were depressed. I always told you that there were bigger fish to fry, to which you replied that you didn’t even like fish. I then in turn told you that there were bigger problems than your own and you pleaded for my help. You said that you were at the end of the line and you know what I said?

                Whatever.

                And I guess for you it was whatever as well. Those were my last words to you before I found you hanging from the hotel balcony, fourteen floors up and I pulled your body up over the railing and your face was blue. I remember. I remember thinking I could have prevented this and this was all my fault. I never would have thought you would have gone and killed yourself, but now I’m left without you. Or so I thought.

                “Stop crying, Daehyun.” Youngjae said from by my side as we rode back to the dorm in the van. The seat is empty to everyone else but Youngjae is there, clear as day in my eyes. I see him. I hear him. I’m not sure if he’s a hallucination, or if he’s haunting me. “I’m right here.”