Peace. What did that word mean anymore? Was it meant to sound the same as piece? Because if you were at peace, you weren't in pieces; and if you were in pieces you weren't at peace. How long had it been since Jongin was at peace? Almost a year most probably. He constantly was in a state of anger, sadness or, worst of all, regret. Why had he done something so stupid, so hurtful to the person he cared for the most? Jongin's mind was always full of thoughts about her. How she was doing. What she was doing today. What songs she listened to nowadays. How long her lists were now. How she got home last night. Who she was talking to these days. But most of all, he wanted to know how Seulgi got over them.

It had been exactly six months. Six months since they haven't spoken to each other, texted each other, seen each other. Jongin wasn't sure if they would ever do anything together ever again. Sixteen years as best friends, two years as a couple -- it went down the drain in one night. And it was his fault. Now, everytime he listened to the sound of nothing, the sound of silence, it reminded him of a night that he would rather not think about at all.

Jongin was at the dance studio. He was in Studio 8, the room with the slightly cracked mirror at the end of the hall. Although the music playing was classical, the notes were blaring so loud that the light hanging above him shivered lightly. Jongin was immersed in the music. Every part of him, his body, soul, and mind was put into the song. His eyes were closed, yet he moved with grace. He danced with all the pent up emotions and thoughts inside of him. He pushed the image of Seulgi crying, her walking away from him out of his head and replaced it with the image of her laughing, smiling, her happy. Jongin could've done something. He should've done something.

The song ended after six minutes. Jongin knelt to the ground, a dull thud sounded as he made contact to the hardwood floor. Sweat dropped to