Without you, I feel broke.
Like I'm half of a whole.
Without you, I've got no hand to hold.
Without you, I feel torn.
Like a sail in a storm.
Without you, I'm just a sad song.
I'm just a sad song.

- Sad Song We the Kings

             She cannot explain why she feels the way she did when she leaves the station. There is only a piercing pushing pain that presses heavy on her. She wants to say that she feels betrayed, but for what reason? Just because Mark had lied to her?

             That couldn’t be it.

             She wants to say she is angry, but at what? At Mark? At Baekhyun?

             At herself?

             She only knows she feels miserable. The bus ride to Mark’s apartment seems to drag on in her eyes. It is as if the bus hits every single red light on the way there and she could feel the negative feelings continue to pile up inside her.

             How does one accept the fact that the one they love has been murdered?

             In the movies, the protagonist would go and seek revenge but she didn’t even know who to chase. Furthermore, these were speculations, weren’t they? Only Mark’s educated guesses on what happened to Baekhyun.

             But Mark’s gut feelings were seldom wrong.

             She clutches her head in her hands and sits down on the curb. She had already returned the items back into their rightful place in Mark’s kitchen and was walking home; that was how close they lived.

             Maybe she should do what she always did: paint something.

             But what?

             All she could see was black, blue, grey and red. There was no colour in the night world in front of her. Besides, if she could conjure up something bright, there was only one image imprinted in her mind currently.

             The man’s mutilated face.

             Maggots had filled in his eye socket when the police found the body. Cheeks were already sunken in and no other facial tissue had been left untouched. Everything on that person – that much she could tell – had been stripped away. There was nothing left on there to make an identification.

             The world in front of her blurred as tears formed.

             That could not be him. That could not be her Baekhyun – the man who had a smile that brightened the world; the man who could make her heart skip just by looking at her; the man who made her feel like she was on ecstasy each time he kissed her.

             That couldn’t be Baekhyun. It just couldn’t.

             She didn’t notice, but a small drizzle had started to fall from the sky while she was sitting. When the first splashes of water hit her face as she looked up, a bitter laugh escaped her lips.

             So the sky was crying with her too.

<< >>

             So the sky was mocking him too.

             Jaebum had returned back to the small room he had rented and only started to relax when three sharp raps on his door made him stand up.

             “Get out,” was what the landlady said.

             Well, not exactly. She had phrased it in a much nicer way but that was basically what she said to him. Amidst the gentle pleading and smiles, Jaebum could see her overall message:

             Get out. The police called you in and now you’re bad business because you’re linked to a murder.

             The landlady hadn’t even given him time to pack, but only told him that she couldn’t provide accommodation tonight so it would be best if he removed his belongings soon so that he had time to find another place to rest for the night.

             Now that he was wandering the streets Googling where the closest hotel was (as the one across had been temporarily closed down due to investigation), it had started to rain. Fat raindrops fell and hit his jacket, rolling down in a slow scornful way until it splattered onto his shoes. The rain did not start slowing but instead continued to rise in speed until he could barely see the road in front of him.

             If he had been delivered the news a little earlier, he would still have his rental car with him but that contract had expired earlier in the evening as he had not anticipated to be staying here for long. Hailing a taxi did not seem to bring a solution to his problem so he had resorted to walking around until he ended up in a small neighbourhood.

             A small bus station comes into his view so he quickly shuffles underneath the shelter and wipes his jacket. It is drenched and starts to seep into dress shirt which he wears underneath. A snarl rolls across his mouth and he expresses his disgust at the condition he has been put into.

             He peeks out from the shelter and is rewarded with water splashing into his eyes. It looks like the rain is not about to let up any time soon. Using this time, he takes a seat on the drier bus bench and pulls out his cellphone.

             The sound of rain has always been soothing to him when he makes plan for his stories. He did not particularly enjoy being under the rain but the sound was still the same. The clothes continue to stick onto his body as he reads through the notes he had uploaded on his device.

             Angel 1: hollowed out center + bouquets. Height: 168cm; Female – blonde; Age: 24-25

             His notes were rarely detailed and extensive unlike what people may have thought. They only give him a rough outline of what he envisioned and he would work with what he was given as the time w