The jingling of keys echoed in the long, dark corridor, breaking the tranquil quiet with its discordant sounds. Daehyun sighed when he heard the lock click and opened the door, slipping out of his worn-out sneakers and putting on some grey home slippers. He looked around the small, cramped apartment, his eyes panning over the—mostly—second-hand furniture, and saw Youngjae sitting on the sofa, seemingly engrossed in the television. He didn’t look up when Daehyun stepped over the threshold and he continued to disregard him when the older man took a seat diagonally across him.

He’s mad at me, Daehyun thought and sighed, slipping his backpack off his shoulders and placing the laptop on his lap.

“Youngjae,” he began.

“Save it,” Youngjae cut him off in a curt voice. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lousy excuses.”

The corners of Daehyun’s lips twitched up despite himself. His flatmate could be really cute sometimes, even when he was angry.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before Youngjae could say anything.

The younger man huffed, turning his cold eyes towards Daehyun. “Why didn’t you come?” he demanded.

“I thought you didn’t want to hear my excuse?” Daehyun teased, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Youngjae scowled and turned his gaze back to the television. Silence overpowered the room for a while. When he realised Youngjae wasn’t going to say anything, Daehyun his lips and launched into a carefully constructed alibi.

“Kibum kept me back to discuss my pay raise,” Daehyun emphasised, so that the younger wouldn’t miss the good news. He saw Youngjae’s eyes flicker towards him in pleasant surprise and smiled to himself. “I tried to rush over to the café as fast as I could, but something happened on my way there and I couldn’t make it.”

Youngjae snorted, “What was that something?”

“Well.” Daehyun bit his lower lip. This was it. He was going to have to lie and he could only hope that Youngjae would believe him. “There was a train breakdown or something, I’m not really sure. I couldn’t get into the station and there was a commotion all about. Everyone was rushing out of the subway.” The words rolled out smoothly, his tongue slick with all the lies he had told.

Youngjae raised his eyebrows.

“I see,” he said simply.

Daehyun internally breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Youngjae was sceptical and no doubt he’d be waiting to see if Daehyun was telling the truth. By presenting his situation as something that he hadn’t witnessed, he needed to only act surprised when the news reported a blackout and a murder. Daehyun was secretly glad for the murder incident, as ruthless as that sounded. It would help to bring Youngjae’s suspicions away from him. His powers didn’t include committing a random murder on the subway.

He watched the commercials whisk past like dim flickering lights. The murmurs of electricity vibrating from the television were more colourful to him than the dull pictures on the screen. Daehyun watched the static floating in the air like a wiry kaleidoscope and reached out a hand, watching as the slivers of electricity wafted towards his fingers like flies attracted to a bright light. This movement did not go unnoticed by Youngjae, who quickly averted his eyes when the pair of them locked gazes.

Daehyun swallowed. It was becoming increasingly hard to live with Youngjae and pretend that he did not feel something for the man. Youngjae was very attractive and Daehyun couldn’t be more aware of that. They shared a small flat only because the both of them couldn’t afford to live on their own. Youngjae wasn’t making much money as a writer and his recent novel hadn’t garnered enough profit for him to live comfortably by himself. Daehyun received a bigger income, though it wasn’t by a very big margin. He mostly supplemented the groceries.

Daehyun cleared his throat in an attempt to break the awkward silence in the air.

“So, uh, I asked to meet you today because I wanted to pass you this.” Daehyun held the laptop towards Youngjae.

Youngjae took the notebook and stared at him quizzically. Daehyun continued, “I’ve been noticing that your old laptop is getting quite slow.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I told Kibum it was a hopeless case… and it was, but I did some fixing here and there and- um, used my power a bit,” he said this in a rush because he knew Youngjae disapproved of him using his power even if it was for a minor thing such as this. “Anyway, it’s fixed now and I know it’s not brand new, but it works better than your current one so-”

“Thank you,” Youngjae suddenly expressed.

Daehyun looked up at his flatmate, slightly taken aback when he saw the small smile on his face.

“I really appreciate it,” Youngjae intimated sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” Daehyun breathed.

Youngjae placed the laptop on the table, next to two empty glasses. Daehyun blinked. Was there a guest? Deciding to dismiss that thought, he turned to Youngjae. The latter had already turned back to the television.

“How was your day?” Daehyun questioned after a while.

Youngjae sent a brief glance in his direction. “Pretty normal,” he replied. After a moment of silence, he stated, “Remember when I told you I wanted to kill Myunghee off? I’ve decided to let her live.”

“Why?” Daehyun asked in interest.

Youngjae shrugged. “It just didn’t seem right.”

“You were so looking forward to writing that spaceship crash though,” reminded Daehyun.

Youngjae laughed, “Yes I was.”

They continued watching the commercials in silence. After a couple more flickered by, a familiar blue and white logo appeared on the television screen and Daehyun squinted through all the static to read the words, ‘KBS News’. He his lips in anticipation. The murder case was definitely going to be part of the breaking news. From the corner of his eye, he saw Youngjae lean forward and observe the television screen intently. A well-groomed lady appeared, her black blazer contrasting well with the white background.

“Breaking news: There was a murder on a train at Hoehyun station this afternoon, at 2.30pm. The station experienced an electric shortage, affecting the railways and halting all the trains along the Seoul subway line four, causing a major blackout in all the stations. The train had stopped at Hoehyun station shortly before the blackout occurred and witnesses said that they heard a gunshot right after the lights went out. The victim’s body was found on the floor of the train. Authorities have confirmed that the victim died from extreme loss of blood sustained from the gunshot. The victim has been identified as Park Jinyoung, former CEO of JYP Enterprises, who had gone bankrupt after his company suffered heavy losses due to his recent money-laundering scandal. Mr. Park had been known to take on a black market loan of up to 200 million won to pay off his debts. The suspects’ identities are currently unknown, though they are suspected to be loan sharks working for the private business Mr. Park acquired his loan from. Authorities suspect that the blackout was created as a ruse for the criminals to commit the crime and escape from the scene immediately after. Investigators are currently looking into the scene of the crime for evidence that may lead them towards the suspects’ identities,” she reported grimly. “In other news…”

The silence in the living room stretched heavily; the newscaster’s reporting merely background noise as Daehyun’s thoughts whirred loudly in his mind.

“An electric shortage,” Youngjae commented as he stared blankly at the screen.

Daehyun his lips nervously. The small currents running inside the small television were starting to claw against the inside of his skull. He could feel another headache coming up.

“Why would there be an electric shortage in a train station?” Youngjae pondered. “More specifically, the station you were supposed to board the train at.”

Daehyun shrugged. “Beats me.”

Youngjae turned towards him. “Pretty random, don’t you think? It didn’t even affect the other subway lines.”

Daehyun avoided the younger’s scrutinizing gaze and responded in what he hoped would be a casual voice, “You heard what she said.” He gestured at the newscaster, who was now reporting on an unfortunate case of a man getting killed by a fallen tree in Daegu. “It could be a ruse for the criminals to commit their murder.”

“It could be.” Youngjae was still staring at him disbelievingly.

Deciding to take it a notch higher, Daehyun forced out a laugh. It sounded strained and a pitch higher than usual. He hoped Youngjae wouldn’t notice the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face, or the panicked look in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re suspecting me to be involved in this?”

“I am,” Youngjae said straightforwardly.

Well.

“I told you.” He tried to control the tremble in his tone like how the vibrations wafting from the television was trying to control his agitation. Daehyun paused and reached for the remote, switching the television off. Immediately, his mind cleared up. “I wasn’t in the station when it happened. I didn’t even know a murder had happened on the train.”

Youngjae raised an eyebrow, but he did not say anything more. He turned his head to check the clock.

“It’s nearly dinnertime. I’ll make us some ramyun,” he offered.

Daehyun on the bottom of his lip. “Do you need my help?” he proferred.

Youngjae turned back slightly, an eyebrow slightly cocked. “No need. It’s just ramyun,” he rejected simply.

The water boiled, the bubbling sound the only thing that filled the room for a while. Youngjae stood in front of the stove, with a long pair of chopsticks in his hand as he swirled the noodles around in the boiling water. Daehyun observed him for a while. His side profile was sharp, but there was a soft quality to his edges. The sharp incline of his nose sloped off to give a rounded tip and his eyelashes were straight and feathery. His eyes were tilted downwards, fixed on the ramyun he was cooking. His lips were brought up into a small pout, resembling two rosebud petals. Daehyun swallowed slightly as he stared at them.

Youngjae poured a packet of seasoning into the pot and soon after, a heavy aroma filled the air. Daehyun leant back against the sofa, closing his eyes and welcoming the hunger that the aroma brought. A few minutes later, Youngjae came back with the pot of ramyun, two metal bowls and two pairs of chopsticks. Daehyun noticed from the corner of his eyes how Youngjae very subtly brought the two glasses of water back to the sink. They slid down to the carpeted floor and began to fill their bowls with their share of ramyun. Sibilant slurps filled the air for a while, as the two of them beat their own hunger by stuffing themselves with food.

“Did you have someone over today?” Daehyun posed, his gaze flitting to the right just in time to catch Youngjae’s chopsticks hesitate in mid-air before he continued eating.

“Yes,” Youngjae eventually affirmed.

“Who was it?” Daehyun kept his eyes on Youngjae’s face, aware that the younger was refusing to look at him.

“Just an old friend,” Youngjae returned without hesitation.

Daehyun hummed. Whoever that old friend was, Youngjae didn’t want him to find out. A couple of silent minutes passed, imbedded with the discordant clinks of their metal chopsticks and their quiet slurps. The two flatmates coexisted on a comfortable plane of silence, both at ease in each other’s presence. They’d known each other since high school; they were best friends then and they had remained best friends ever since. They were vastly different from one another and their clashing personalities fuelled many heated arguments. In spite of that, they’d managed to last this long and Daehyun thought his tolerance of the other was more due to his deep infatuation with him than anything else. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d started falling for his flatmate, but he knew he was very deeply in love with him.

“What would you do if one of the others contacted you?”

Youngjae’s sudden question penetrated his heavy musings like a rude awakening. He turned to the younger, frowning slightly from the disorienting confusion his shattered thoughts created.

“Others?”

“Yeah, like,” Youngjae thought for a while, his eyes cast down at his noodles, as though what he was saying was just a random thought that crossed his mind. “Himchan… Yongguk…”

Daehyun snorted and put his bowl down. The metallic bottom struck the wooden surface with a louder clack than he’d intended. Youngjae winced a little.

“Why the sudden question?” Daehyun asked curiously.

It seemed a bit odd that he would bring it up suddenly. The both of them had come to an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t talk about what had happened two years ago. Youngjae wouldn’t spring such a thing on him like this, unless…

“Did one of them come for a visit today?” Daehyun interrogated sharply.

Youngjae bit his lip and Daehyun took that as a ‘yes’.

“Who was it?” he demanded.

Youngjae swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Himchan,” he answered. Upon seeing the look of distaste on Daehyun’s face, he continued hastily, “I didn’t invite him. I was waiting for you at the coffee shop and he happened to be around the vicinity when he heard my thoughts. He started following me home after that-”

“He followed you home?” Daehyun clenched his hands into fists.

“He said he needed an escape. Said there was a commotion uptown. Must have been that murder incident…” Youngjae trailed off.

An uneasy silence followed.

“I’m turning in early,” Daehyun announced suddenly as he got up.

“It’s only seven o’ clock.” Youngjae pointed out in bewilderment.

Daehyun manoeuvred around the coffee table. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t miss the hurt look on Youngjae’s face as he closed his bedroom door behind him. Daehyun sighed, letting the silence and loneliness swallow him whole. He wasn’t being an … okay, maybe he was, but it made his blood boil to think about the incident that happened two years ago. He didn’t want to associate himself with any of his former so-called friends. Daehyun heard the clinking of the metal bowls outside and knew that Youngjae was clearing the dishes. He turned away from the door. Really, he was just trying to prevent them from escalating into the spiral of never-ending hurt the rift had brought.

Youngjae eventually migrated to his room and the pair of them remained in their own detached bubbles, each doing his own thing. Daehyun worked on a broken phone he’d brought back from the shop. He twisted his small screwdriver, easing the screw out before dismantling the phone. He observed the circuit board for a while. He always brought his work home—it was one thing off tomorrow’s to-do list if he managed to fix them. His own phone lay on the table, switched off. Daehyun did not own a laptop; in fact, there were hardly any electronic items in his room. He didn’t like having the constant nagging buzz disrupting his sleep.

A hard and decisive knock sounded on the front door, disrupting his peaceful focus. Daehyun pushed his chair back and was just about to get up, when he heard Youngjae’s door being opened. He listened to the quiet pitter-patter of his feet as his flatmate headed towards the door; the lock clicked and Youngjae opened it.

An unfamiliar voice spoke, “Is this the residence of Mr. Jung Daehyun?”

Daehyun frowned. Who in the world was looking for him at this hour?

Youngjae’s voice came out confused, “He’s in his room. Erm… what-?”

“This is the police. We have received evidence that Mr. Jung was involved in the murder incident at Hoehyun station today.”

Evidence? That he was involved in what- the murder?

The soft pattering of footsteps sounded again and there was a knock on his door.

“Daehyun?” a quiet voice called out.

The older man got up and crossed over to his door. He opened it to reveal a completely bewildered-looking Youngjae.

“Um, the police are looking for you…”

Daehyun strode over to the doorway. He registered the three stern policemen, frowns portraying their antsy moods. They looked tired, and looked as though they would like nothing than to get this over and done with. They must be about to clock out soon.

“Mr. Jung Daehyun?” one of them, a tall man with sharp, fierce features asked.

“Yes,” he replied, refusing to be intimidated by their menacing stance, even though his heart was palpitating as fast as a machine gun in his chest.

“You are suspected to be an accomplice for the heinous crime that took place at Hoehyun train station today. We have received evidence showing that you are responsible for the train station’s electric shortage. Please come with us,” the officer spoke in a curt voice before a pair of handcuffs appeared around his wrists.

“Wait, wha-” Daehyun looked at Youngjae in shock. The other stared back at him, the same amount of confusion reflected on his face.

“You must be mistaken. I didn’t do anything,” Daehyun rattled on, panicked. “What kind of evidence is this?”

“A surveillance tape. We will let you know of the details once we are at the police station. For now,” the police officer gestured towards the corridor.

“Daehyun…” Youngjae finally spoke up.

Daehyun looked at him and registered the look of doubt on his face.

“I wasn’t involved in this,” Daehyun pleaded. “I swear, Youngjae. I would never do something like this.”

He couldn’t have Youngjae suspecting him. He couldn’t.

“Daehyun, I…”

“Mr. Jung,” the police officer glared at him. “Please.”

Shooting another woeful look at his flatmate, Daehyun let the officers guide him out of his apartment. He turned back, glimpsing at Youngjae’s confused face peering after him, still clad in the oversized T-shirt and shorts he always liked to wear at home. The two hands gripping his arms felt like two claws of steel bringing him towards a murky haze of trouble and Daehyun had no idea how to get out of this mess.

~~~

Yongguk glanced down at the large dusty box he’d drawn out from inside his cabinet. He hadn’t opened that thing for a long time, and he hadn’t planned to ever do so, but a strange tingle of nostalgia had gripped him, like a leech that wouldn’t let go, and so there he was, seated on the floor with a beat up cardboard box that smelled like the rusting metal of his cabinet. Yongguk peeled the two top flaps open, revealing stacks of spotted, yellowed pages stapled and bound together. He carefully took out the first stack, flipping through it quietly. His tiny scribbles jumped up at him and he stared at a photograph of a smiling young man, which was attached to the top right corner of the paper.

YOO YOUNGJAE

Date of birth: January 24, 1992

Powers:

…he skimmed through the long paragraph of his neat handwriting, taking in the meticulous way he’d noted down every detail. He flipped through the next few pages, most of which covered more details about Youngjae’s powers and detailed recounts of the times he used them- the only time he used them.

Most of the recount was made through Youngjae’s own words; Yongguk did not remember anything. He didn’t expect himself to, for Youngjae had the ability to turn back time, which meant he could use his powers to reverse certain events. According to Youngjae, one of their other friends, Daehyun, had made a major blunder and he’d only reversed everything to prevent anything from happening to him. Yongguk only remembered that he had suddenly felt nauseous and unsteady on his feet, like he’d jumped through a brief lapse in time, before Youngjae collapsed right in front of them. The younger man had to be rushed to the hospital, for he was severely dehydrated and weak from exhaustion. It had been a very scary couple of hours, during which, the doctors had tried to awaken him and bring his body back to a stable equilibrium. When Youngjae had gotten better enough to tell them what had happened, Yongguk made him promise never to use his power again. Youngjae had agreed, though Yongguk thought it was more due to his own power taking effect than anything.

Yongguk sighed, placing his file down and picking up the next one, briefly glancing through it. He remembered all four of them of course, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss them—perhaps with the possible exclusion of Daehyun. He could still vividly remember the heated argument they had had a while back, creating a deep crack in the group’s friendship and leaving a bitter taste that lingered in his mouth whenever he thought back at it. His face hardened when he recalled that dreadful morning and stuffed the papers back into the box with force. He didn’t want to think about it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he was about to stuff the last of Youngjae’s papers back into the box. Yongguk took it out, staring at his lit screen and the single text message he’d received from Himchan.

‘Daehyun’s in trouble.’

Yongguk reread the message many times to reaffirm that he wasn’t seeing things. What surprised him wasn’t the fact that Daehyun had got himself into trouble—in fact, his troublesome powers were precisely the reason why the group had fallen out—but the fact that it was Himchan who had texted him. Himchan despised Daehyun the most out of the four of them and Yongguk couldn’t guess how the lawyer had managed to attain that piece of information. He looked down at Youngjae’s papers, his eyes drawn towards the section labelled: Relationships with the others.

Closest to Jung Daehyun. High school friends.

Himchan must have known through Youngjae. Yongguk couldn’t think of anyone else who would be keeping in contact with the electric freak. Honestly, he wasn’t very surprised that this kind of thing arose. It was almost too predictable that Daehyun would slip up eventually. He always did. Amongst all of them, he was the one who was least adapted to his powers. It slightly irked Yongguk that Daehyun still hadn’t managed to control his powers, even after two years. He sighed, picking up his phone again and texting Himchan back: ‘Bring everyone here.’

He stowed his phone away. He could trust Himchan to bring Youngjae and Junhong to his house. His friend wasn’t going to like what he already planned to say, but he believed they had no other choice. They needed to create a plan to get Daehyun out of whatever mess he’d put himself in. As reluctant as Yongguk was to save the man’s sorry , he also believed it was only a matter of time before Daehyun brought the rest into this whole mess with him. That was how Daehyun was—selfish and impulsive. All it would take was to interrogate him heavily and the man would sell the group’s secrets just so that he could lessen his own consequence.

Yongguk shifted the papers in the box, making space for Youngjae’s stack of papers. He frowned, suddenly noticing different-coloured neon flags sticking out of the edges of some of the bottom piles. He couldn’t recall what they were about. Yongguk reached in, pulling out Daehyun’s, Himchan’s and Junhong’s records, before eventually, he picked up a large bundle of papers with the words ‘MOON JONGUP’ boldly written across the front of it. Yongguk looked down at the thick bind of records in astonishment. Who was this person? Yongguk opened the file he was holding and was instantly greeted with a photograph of a shy-looking young man. He frowned at the stranger and began to read his own writing.

MOON JONGUP

Date of birth: February 6, 1993.

Power: Ability to make people forget about him when they are not looking directly at him.

Ability to make people forget about him? Yongguk thought, flipping through the papers in awe. There’s one more of us?

The facts he’d written about Jongup were astoundingly detailed. He’d dedicated a whole page to Jongup’s physical appearance, the colours he’d dyed his hair to, his height and weight, the shape of his eyes and even the way his two front teeth protruded out a little. It was almost perturbing in a way. The later pages detailed more facts about him, including diary-like accounts of the times he’d interacted with Jongup. It seemed that Yongguk had been determined not to forget about the man. He couldn’t help but feel innately frustrated with himself as he flipped through the notes and received nothing but confusion. Not an inkling of recognition brushed the edges of his memories. It felt weirdly like he was reading a biography of someone he barely knew existed, but knew was an important person all the same. Yongguk flipped back to the first few pages, locating Jongup’s handphone number and immediately sending him a text. Yongguk folded his lips. He hoped desperately that Jongup hadn’t changed his number during these two years.

~~~

Himchan arrived first. Yongguk smiled at him. He was undeniably fond of Himchan. The pair had gotten together many times over the years, their relationship status switching on and off like the flickering lights in an old alley. Himchan was the one person who understood him completely and Yongguk felt glad that he had a friend he could communicate facilely with.

Youngjae and Junhong arrived together. Yongguk had completely forgotten how tall Junhong was. The tall, lanky man’s cry of “Hyung!” and the two arms that wrapped around his thin frame brought a beam to his face. Youngjae still looked as charming as ever, his eccentric writer’s mind reflected in his fashion sense. The pair of them stepped over the threshold, Junhong greeting Himchan with another loud shout. Yongguk smiled. He’d missed all of them terribly.

He shut the door behind them, thinking that he should probably get straight to the meeting since everyone was already there. A bright yellow sticky note clinging to the wooden surface of his door caught his attention and he squinted at the miniscule scribble:

‘Don’t forget Jongup.’

Yongguk frowned. Jongup?

Oh, his expression cleared. Him.

Yongguk waited for the mysterious man while pouring drinks for his friends. It was another fifteen minutes before his doorbell rang again and he opened the door to reveal the same face he’d seen in the picture. Except, he recognised him. The younger man smiled up at him and he smiled fondly back. He suddenly remembered everything, the memories appearing in his mind as if they had always been there. He remembered the quiet mumble of the other’s voice, the way he laughed soundlessly, eyes screwed shut into tiny crescents and nose scrunched up a bit, how he always stayed back to help Yongguk collate the materials after their meetings and the way he sometimes looked sad whenever Yongguk caught sight of him musing by himself in a corner. Jongup walked past Yongguk, their shoulders barely brushing, and just like that, Yongguk did not remember anymore. He stood there, confused as to why he was holding the door open when there was no one outside. He shook his head and closed the door, turning to face his group of friends, who had gathered in his living room. A strange man lingered near the doorway to the kitchens, a little farther from the rest of the group. They locked gazes, Yongguk immediately felt a bolt of recognition strike him like lightning.

Oh yeah, it’s Jongup, he thought to himself.

“Yongguk,” Himchan pulled his attention away from the quiet man. “Daehyun crashed the whole train system.”

Oh so that was him? Yongguk thought. Why wasn’t he surprised?

Himchan nodded. “Yes, that was him,” he responded to Yongguk’s thoughts. “He’s being suspected of being an accomplice for some murder that happened in the train right when the electricity failed. They’ve already taken him to the police station.”

Yongguk raised an eyebrow.

“How do we know he isn’t really part of those crooks?” Junhong raised scornfully.

“I almost bumped into the guy the day the incident happened and I read his thoughts. He seemed as bewildered about the murder as everyone else.” Himchan told him.

How did they find out it was him who shut down the entire subway line? Yongguk asked wordlessly.

“Well, Youngjae said they mentioned something about a surveillance tape.” Himchan turned to Youngjae with a questioning look and the writer nodded in affirmation. “My guess is that Daehyun was stupid enough to charge himself in a train station and right in full view of a surveillance camera. He probably lost control and crashed the whole damn thing. And knowing how dumb he is, he probably did it in a really shifty way and they thought he was trying to cut off the power supply for the murder to take place.”

There was silence as everyone processed what Himchan said. That complicated things a little. Yongguk hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Daehyun was already apprehended by the police. And now there was also evidence against him. Yongguk wondered if there was any way they could use their powers to get Daehyun out of the police station. Himchan whipped his head towards him, expression disapproving.

“No.” His lips folded into a thin line.

“What’s going on?” Junhong asked.

“Yongguk wants us to get Daehyun out. Using our powers,” he explained to the barista, whose eyes widened.

“Definitely not,” said Junhong.

Why not? thought Yongguk.

“Why should we help him?” Himchan challenged, his fury clearly rising. “It’s not like he’s going to be grateful towards us even if we did help.”

He was our friend.

“’Was’ is the key word,” Himchan hissed. “And how do you propose we even go about doing it?”

I have a plan, thought Yongguk.

Himchan groaned, “Of course you do.”

He read the brief outline of the plan in Yongguk’s mind before he cried in disbelief, “Are you crazy? You’re practically making us criminals!”

“Hyung, what did he say?” pressed Junhong.

“He wants us to infiltrate in and persuade Daehyun to crash the entire station so that he can get out,” Himchan repeated Yongguk’s thoughts incredulously.

“No way!” Junhong exclaimed, flabbergasted.

“It’s not going to work. What happens if we fail?” Himchan hissed.

We can try again.

“Try again?” Himchan frowned. “How are we going to try again?”

His eyes quickly flitted towards Youngjae upon hearing Yongguk’s unspoken words. His face hardened considerably.

“No,” he asserted firmly.

“What’s wrong?” Youngjae asked in confusion.

“He wants you to be there on standby,” Himchan said in a strained voice.

There was a pause as everyone registered the meaning behind those words.

“You’re absolutely not doing it,” Himchan growled, his voice cutting the silence in the air like a knife slicing through butter.

“It’s the only way to get Daehyun out,” Youngjae said miserably.

“No. You can’t compromise your own health for this, Youngjae.” Himchan turned his angry, glinting eyes to Yongguk and hissed, “What are you thinking? You’ve seen how he collapsed after turning back time. It’s too risky. He barely survived the other time. You were the one who was against him using his powers again.”

“But I lived,” Youngjae persisted.

“I said no, Youngjae,” Himchan said sternly.

“What do you suppose we do then? Let him get locked up even though he’s innocent? We can’t just abandon him at a time like this,” Youngjae’s voice rose in fury, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You can’t let your personal feelings get in the way, Youngjae,” Himchan spat. “I’m not going to let you sacrifice your health for some lowlife, two-faced piece of-”

“I don’t think I’m the one letting my personal feelings get in the way, hyung,” Youngjae stated coldly.

“You don’t know half the things that went through his mind! He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for what he did!” Himchan shouted.

“People make mistakes!” cried Youngjae.

“Oh my God, Youngjae.” Himchan ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was deliberate!”

Youngjae retorted, his angry voice quickly countered by Himchan’s equally furious tone. Their raised voices rose like a strident din. Their angry, opprobrious comments clashing violently like inharmonious tunes of discordance. Junhong occasionally pitched in to express his astounded disbelief in Youngjae’s persistent stand on the matter. As their outbursts grew louder, Yongguk decided that he had had enough. He usually disliked doing this, but he could see no other way to go about it. They were too obtrusively divided in their opinions. He opened his mouth.

“Silence,” he projected, his deep voice resounding across the living room and everyone fell quiet.