Kyungsoo followed the trail back, and allowed his body to go into autopilot. While his feet brought him back on track, his mind was detached and overflowing with thoughts; exceedingly so, that he didn’t even know where to begin. Too many thoughts to think about, thoughts that flowed over the ledge of all notion and drown out everything else, too many things that lead to thoughts that lead to conclusions that led to suspicions that ultimately end in the pain of overthinking. Kyungsoo was soft, and timid—but what goes on his head, which are his alone to probe and poke at, are loud and messy.

On the long, winding trail of thought, he briefly visited a one about his friends; some of the only people he was comfortable around—even if he still kept himself at a distance. He was almost certain they’d interrogate him; he was certain they knew him well enough to notice the slight change in the routinely characteristic of Do Kyungsoo.

The group was never concerned whenever someone would run late—literally every one of them have tendencies to arrive later than what was agreed upon. Kyungsoo, however, was an exception. He’s usually on time, or the first one to arrive. There wasn't an instance, they could remember, when their punctual friend was the last to arrive. This was what was bothering them right now. Inside a little restaurant, in their little city, a little group of not-so-little men were gathered around a table filled with food and alcohol, with more than a little set of worries.

“He’s not… dead, is he?”

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

“I’m not joking! What if—”

“Stop jumping to conclusions.”

“What? He might’ve… could’ve… y’know…”

“I’m not dead, Baekhyun.”

The group snapped their heads at Kyungsoo, surprised at his sudden presence. The group noted his appearance. Aside from the beads of sweat on his forehead, he hadn’t changed at all. He looked alive, but dead at the same time, his choice of wardrobe was unflattering but comfortable, and the darkness around his eyes could pass as heavy eyeshadow. Everything seemed fine, but they still gauged his demeanor.

Kyungsoo took a seat towards the very edge, expecting a heavy round of questioning, but instead was met with silence. He was almost surprised. In this silence, he avoided eye contact and kept to himself. He felt their stare on him, but refused to meet their eyes. He waited for someone to speak up first. He had a million things he was desperate to say, but refrained from saying them.

‘Did you know that I met Jeon Jisoo aagin today?’ 

‘I thought she'd never come back.’

‘I'm glad that she is. Does this mean that she's gonna stay?’ 

‘I mean, I freely let her go. She said she'd come back because she loved me, and she did! Are you guys jealous?’ 

He started biting his nails, mustering some courage to break the silence, repeating what he would say over and over, but in the few seconds that slowly passed, millions of things he could’ve said were left unsaid.

“Ya!” a friend exclaimed, “Where were you? You kept us waiting! We were worried!” Kyungsoo bowed his head, and apologized, voice low and quiet. He finally met their eyes, and saw genuine concern plastered on their faces. He decided to keep this to himself for now.

“I overslept.” Kyungsoo said, lamely. The others sighed and dropped their guards. They began eating, and the aura in the room lightened. They happily exchanged stories of what’s happened in their lives since they last met, and Kyungsoo quietly listened. They bickered and joked around with one another, and laughter escaped from his lips.

Ultimately, this was how the night ended for him. He, more or less, disappeared into the background. As he usually did, but he didn't mind it. He bid his goodbyes and headed home, earlier than the rest.

“There's something off about him today.”