3 years later.

Kim Jongdae and Park Chanyeol were living in the same house.

Everything went as it when Minseok was there for him.

The morning amusement of the headlines, the wheezing of the kettle, the sizzling of the eggs and the incessant nattering of television gossip.

Jongdae was happy, he didn't forget Minseok nor was he angry at him for not coming to meet him for straight three years, however he knew.

That one day he would catch the last flight home and surprise him at his door.

Nevertheless, not a day passed for Chanyeol with deep feeling of sadness of Jongdae.

No matter how much he wanted to tell him that his Hyung was dead, that he was no longer connected to this world, the happy, bright face of Kim Jongdae's would stop him.

Because when he first met him, he was mirthless, depressed and dejected by the world but now, he had a voice.

Not the one to tune or sing, but the one to easily communicate with others through sign language.

An invisible yet powerful voice.

He could have just said it, sure, and Jongdae would cry a day or two or three or four weeks, but all he would say is that "Being a singer isn't easy, lets' just wait for him."

And that's the second mistake Chanyeol ever regrets saying.

The lie kept on prolonging, each day, each month and each year, it kept on building yet he didn't have the courage to break down that wall.

"I'm sorry...Minseok." Chan used to say everyday. 

Slowly and then all at once, the remorse ate him from inside.