-POV of Seungcheol-

As soon as the doors slide close, I felt relief washed over my face, the chilly wind wasn’t helping but at least it gave me a breather, fresh air to breathe properly. So, that was it, he was with someone after all, what was I expecting? To bump into him in Seoul and he’ll beg on his knees to make me take him back and be together again. Who was I kidding? Life is not nice to Choi Seungcheol.

The chilly September air was my only company, I guess the winter will be early this year, or maybe it’s just the coldness inside me, making the temperature ten times lower than it should be, I hurriedly trudged the slope up to our apartment complex, I typed in the passcode and went in the elevator, to the tenth floor. Upon reaching the floor, turn left, about ten steps, the right wing, the door number 17. I slid the door card in and it opened, revealing my father sitting on the couch, worried look plastered on his face.

“Hey buddy, what took you so long?” he tried to start a conversation.

“Hey dad, uh, I lost track of time, sorry for making you worry”

“Hey Cheol, don’t go out around this time, alone, Seoul is different from Daegu, you know that”

“I’m not in the mood of talking dad, I’m tired” I told him, he just nodded, I went to my room and closed the door.

My mom’s picture was placed right next to my bed, ever since mom died, we moved to Seoul to restart. It was a painful loss for us, it took dad two weeks to get back to work, a month to get back to his old self, since her passing, I became so down, I changed 360 degrees, the soccer team captain became the lost kid, I stopped being an active student, I learned bunch of stuff like smoking and drinking, I just lost the anchor of this family, all thanks to that fateful night, I still have the scars, making me remember how it was all my fault.

“Hey buddy, lights off” dad knocked on my door gently, I turned the lamp next to mom’s picture off and slept, a dreamless sleep.

The next day, I woke up to the smell of pancakes, I feel sorry for dad, he tries so hard, he works almost 12-hours a day, he even has to go to the hospital when emergency needed him, yet, he wakes up early just to cook breakfast, just like how mom cooks every morning, it does taste different from mom’s but it’s edible.

“Buddy, first day of school, you have to eat breakfast” he knocked on my door, the same soft knock as if he’s going to break the door if he uses a bit of extra force.

“Good morning” I rubbed my eyes, walking out to greet a table full of