Hey guys ! I hope this chapter will find everyone well and eager to read the next part of our beloved Infinite members' adventures. I was suprised no one suggested anything for the story last chapter. I was willing to take any thread because I wasn't so inspired. Anyway, I managed my way out and made the following my way. The next four chapters, from XXIX (29) to XXXII (32) are all happening the same night. But for story intrigue purpose and suspense, as each part concerns a certain character, I chose to cut it in four parts. Some characters might not appear, since each part of that night is solely focused on one person POV.

This chapter is composed of one POV and memories. You'll get, through them, to get a glimpse of the past. Also, there's a rap diss somewhere, which I wrote during insomnia. Be indulgent.

Dongwoo felt foggy. It was a strange sensation, extremely foreign, and at the same time, incredibly natural in its singularity. He was like a conscience of himself. He was aware of his mind since he could have thoughts, but he seemed in vaporous state, dissolute in the thin air. He had no idea where his own body begun, or feel its limits. Feeling out of his skin was pleasant, euphoric, transcending his carnal envelope to dissolve himself in the universe. He never consumed drugs in his life, but he was pretty sure he was feeling one of its effects. Time wasn’t a reference in his state. It was either distended or inexistent. Dongwoo couldn’t say how much time passed by. He wasn’t able to say if time passed at all. Sometimes he was conscious, sometimes not.

When he was though, he tried hard to think. Nothing came to mind at first. He’d just marvelled over his evanescent state. But after his first glimpses of consciousness, tiny bits of memories came like flashes. His mother nursing a bruising knee, wiping away the tears of a toddler version of himself. His father patting his shoulder in a proud gesture. His sisters opening their presents under the Christmas tree. Middle-school Sungjong laughing at a joke he made. The sweat dripping of a seventeen years old Howon forehead and clothes after dancing for hours. Gradually, the pieces of the puzzle constructing his life, of all the things he lived and remembered, were putting themselves together.

There was something missing thought. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but he felt it. There was something important, something he should recall. But his brain wasn’t very cooperative. Each time he tried to push further a flashing reminiscence, his brain simply shut down, making him sink into unconsciousness.

“We shouldn’t have come.” Hoya said, stretching himself. “I have a bad feeling.”

“Don’t be a girl Howon.” Dongwoo teased. “If the cops do come, just run and meet me at home.”

“About that, I know where you get your angel-like kindness. It was very nice of your parents, to let me stay with you.”

“We couldn’t let you on the streets !” Dongwoo exclaimed, offended. “The house feels empty now that my sisters are married. Besides, my mom and dad always wanted more sons. You’re very welcome.”

Hoya made a sound that was half laugh, half scoff.

“They’re good people. You’re blessed to have them. I wasn’t so lucky.”

Dongwoo had a contrite smile and rubbed his friend’s back comfortingly. Even if Howon barely ever spoke of his parents, the wound his father caused by beating him up and kicking him out and his mother by doing nothing to protect him dug a deep hole in his heart.

“Do you think Sungjongie will come ?” Howon asked, quick to change the subject.

“Don’t think so. He has to attend to his academy after school.” Dongwoo said, immediately complying to the subject change as if nothing happened.

They walked to the meeting site, chit chat and laugher coming along. The place was an old factory left discarded. The place was huge, bare, and cold. A few people were scattered here and there, two guys were setting up a hi-fi in a corner, and a group of people was gathered in the centre. Dongwoo and Hoya walked forward, greeting the people they knew. The organizer of this clandestine battle, an underground rapper named T-Z showed them the exit passages in case the cops came. They started to warm up among the other dancers, talking and laughing as usual. After the public, a mix-match of underground habitués and curious neophytes, came in, two guys closed the doors, barricading them inside. There was around fifty to sixty people when the music started to blast. The public formed a circle, and the participants faced each other inside it. First, the rap battle warmed up the audience, who screamed “oh” and “ah” after a particularly good rap diss.

“Let me check on what we have here !” T-Z roared on his mike. “Hoya come on ! Our rhyme machine !” he waved at the younger guy.

“Just dancing today.” Hoya waved his hand in negation.

“Come on !” the improvised MC exclaimed. “Let’s get him in here !”

After the audience screamed his name a couple of times, he was pushed in the middle of the circle by Dongwoo.

“Hyung !” Hoya yelped in disbelief.

“Go ahead !” the older encouraged him.

Another guy detached himself from the crowd and started his rap diss. He got some good lines, but Dongwoo found the whole thing too vulgar. Even in rap diss, he believed in a form of classiness. And so did Hoya, given the answer.

I don’t have time for crappiness

‘Cause all I know is my awesomeness

While ya talk , trying to make a sound

In those walls the words I speak resound

So here, few bucks, go try your luck elsewhere

Better back out while you still have your underwear

Newbie, I pity the attempts you do

Cause my words, my moves are gonna bury you

Hoya ended his diss with a graceful spin followed by a fluid dance step that made the crowd roar and cheer. He came back and they slapped their palms together and squeezed each other’s hand a second before looking at the next performance. Dongwoo danced before Hoya, his flexible body making way to fluid and graceful movements. Hoya’s style was different, in sharp edges