Hyukjae hates being in-between sleep and wakefulness. Right now, he would rather be in the hold of slumber’s arms. But there’s something tugging him back to the state of consciousness. Hyukjae scrunches his eyes tighter, fighting to sleep a little longer. However, a slight throbbing of pain thrums nears his temples. It grows and grows, almost to the point where it feels like someone is hammering his head. Something wet and warm is dripping onto him. Is it raining? Hyukjae attempts to open his eyes to see. 

His eyes flutter open, but only to close back quickly as a wave of nausea washes over him. Even behind his closed eyelids, Hyukjae feels dizzy, his head feeling like it’s whirling a thousand miles a second. Bile begins to rise in his throat. Hyukjae swallows it down, taking a few deep breaths to get air into his lungs. A couple of minutes pass before the nausea dies down, the spinning sensation finally starting to wane down. It’s only after the throbbing in his head shrinks to a dull ache does he try to open his eyes again.

The first thing he notices is the moon. It almost seems as it is looming down, watching over him from afar. The stars shine bright in the midnight sky. Hyukjae admires the sky for a moment before he feels that wet, trickling sensation slide down his cheek. It cannot be rain, Hyukjae concludes, because he can see the sky and there’s no clouds.  He touches his face, bringing his hand in front of his eyes to where he can see what the wetness is.

His hands are stained red with blood. 

The pain hits him tenfold. Hyukjae wants to scream. Instead, only a tiny groan leaves his mouth. He remembers now. He was driving home from the party. He wanted to stay a little longer, but Donghae needed to go home because he had to be up early the next morning. They were singing along to the radio. Then all of sudden, Donghae had yelled something, grabbing Hyukjae’s arm as a black SUV skidded on the icy road, right toward them. 

Donghae!

Hyukjae turns his head, looking around for his friend. His eyes skim over the broken windshield, the remnants of the glass shattered everywhere in the car. Donghae is sitting in the passenger seat motionless.

“No, no, no…”

He tries to reach for him, but the seatbelt is restricting his movements. Struggling to get out of its vice, the only thing on Hyukjae’s mind is Donghae. The pain in his head and the cuts on his face and arms have faded, his focus being on the still man next to him. It feels like hours have passed before he has succeeded escaping its constricting hold. He scrabbles across the armrest, ignoring the glass cutting his clothes and digging into his skin. 

“Donghae! Wake up! Open you eyes. Can you hear me?”

There is no response. Donghae remains stock-still. Hyukjae grabs his wrist, trying to find a pulse. He can’t find one.

“Donghae! Donghae! Donghae, please no, wake up. You have to wake up!”

Hyukjae slaps his cheek gently, trying to rouse the man. Still, he is met with silence. The pain he felt before has dissolved, panic quickly rising. He checks to see if he can find a pulse at Donghae’s neck. The absence of one scares him. He then brings his face close to Donghae’s thin lips to see if there is any shallow breaths. He feels nothing, no exhale of air to indicate breathing.

He checks over Donghae’s body and the sight of his bloodied torso makes nausea hit him with full force. The once pristine white button down shirt is now sullied a dark red. A large tear is on the left side of his shirt, the source of the blood. In the right hand, Donghae’s hands are cut up, a large piece of glass in his palm. A large gash is on Donghae’s forehead, the silky strands darkened, the blood shining in the moonlight.

His heart beating fast, Hyukjae shakily brings his ear to Donghae’s chest, seeking out a heartbeat. Hyukjae prays that he will hear the heart pound in its beautiful rhythm. 

He hears nothing.

His own physical pain does not compare to the epiphany of Donghae’s death. His friend, his best friend, the person who matters most to him, is dead. It seems impossible. This is Donghae, the person who is brighter than the sun, who can make even the coldest person smile. There is no way that this can happen to Donghae, who not even an hour ago was happily stuffing his face with tacos. He had been singing silly with Yesung and Ryeowook and even later had played a prank on Hyukjae with Kyuhyun. This can’t be real. There is no way that Donghae is dead. It has to be another prank, right?

“D-donghae, st-stop it right now. Stop playing jokes on me. It’s n-not funny.“

Donghae knows that Hyukjae hates being pranked and he knows when to keep going and when to stop. But Donghae would never be this cruel to him.

A soundless sob leaves his lips. Tears fall down his face, mixing with the blood from the shallow cuts on his cheeks. The stinging goes unnoticed by Hyukjae, who only clings to Donghae’s cold hands. 

“Well, well, what a pitiful sight. And such a tragedy too, for a handsome man to die so, so young. He is quite the looker. Oh well, death does not discriminate.” a voice speaks from out of nowhere. Hyukjae whips his head to see a man staring down at the scene. 

The mysterious man opens the car door on the passenger slid and slips his arms under Donghae’s knees and around his back, picking him up. Hyukjae watches in horror as the man walks away with Donghae’s body.

“What, …NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

Scrambling madly for the door handle, Hyukjae yanks on it to open his door. It stays stu