JiYong clicks the lock and twists the doorknob, opening the door to find just darkness, darkness that means no one’s home, means SeungRi’s not home, means SeungRi knows. Goddamnit, SeungRi knows. The thought make his heart clench and throat burn, makes him feel a flicker of panic, and then regret, and then anger because—

JiYong walks into the living room, flicks on the lights, squints at the sudden brightness, gasps at how loud the headlines of the newspapers scattered on the coffee table scream at him. Look!

No one’s home, JiYong takes the newspapers and throws them out, because hiding them means they don’t exist, at least not yet. Doesn’t matter because he knows SeungRi’s out drinking, he knows SeungRi’s not coming home. JiYong’s not going to wait up for him, either, because for all of JiYong’s bravado and cockiness and veiled barbs that weren’t so veiled he’s weak. His weakness tells him to run and hide and go to bed like nothing’s wrong, that SeungRi’s out like usual, with his friends from school, his friends from work, his friends from god-knows-where.

But he worries, of course, worries that SeungRi’s friends aren’t really his friends, and that SeungRi’ll be so drunk he’ll step in front of a truck no-questions-asked and then he’ll really be gone. JiYong worries about what SeungRi’s face will look like when he sees JiYong, what SeungRi will say, JiYong worries about SeungRi’s heart because it was never meant to be broken, God no, SeungRi’s heart shouldn’t be broken.

He twists the band he wears on his fourth finger round and round, it burns him, he thinks he deserves it, he wonders why he did it in the first place. Regret, JiYong always regrets, never thinks, makes mistakes. JiYong’s only human, but for a human JiYong makes an awful amount of mistakes. SeungRi’s always forgiven him, like the time JiYong lost their month’s rent on booze, like the time JiYong punched the wrong guy at the club, like the time, like the time, the list could go on forever. SeungRi’s always forgiven him, but JiYong doesn’t think it’ll happen again this time.

---

Once a cheater, always a cheater, JiYong managed to convince them both that that was a lie, that JiYong would change, really, JiYong loves shiny things, it’s not a maknae-thing. JiYong remembers how SeungRi had cried and cried, how SeungRi had yelled and yelled, how SeungRi had forgiven him and had spent months rebuilding the pieces of his heart together so that it functioned again. Yet JiYong still could not resist the allure, the allure of the spotlights and lime lights and lime in his expensive drink that the pretty lady with a big name bought him.

Twice now, JiYong had his name in the papers for all the wrong reasons, he may have just cost a woman her career, may have just cost a man his life.

---

SeungRi comes home—he comes home—he comes home drunk and smelly, his wallet’s gone and his eyes are red. He sits outside the door because he can’t remember where he left his keys (did he even bring keys?). JiYong gets a phone call from a neighbor, runs to the door to pick up his charge, drags the boy in and takes off his shoes. Takes a cloth and cleans SeungRi’s inexplicably grimy skin, wraps dry clothing on his body, takes care of his baby that doesn’t yet recognize him, and JiYong thinks it’d be best if he stayed that way. He knows it won’t, but that doesn’t stop JiYong from hoping, because JiYong’s never let dashed hopes stop him before.

He tucks SeungRi in, turns on the space heater, holds his hand while SeungRi sleeps off the poison, thinking about how many times SeungRi must have done the same for him. JiYong knows he doesn’t deserve someone like JiYong, only leaders should have followers, and JiYong would only ever lead them to their deaths. But SeungRi and JiYong are stupid, didn’t listen or perhaps ignored, did everything wrong because they’re young and stupid, stupid and young, and maybe SeungRi’s in love, and maybe JiYong is too. But love only goes so far, JiYong doesn’t think it’ll go far enough this time.

---

SeungRi wakes up with a ing headache, he’s wrapped in his own blankets, doesn’t remember why. He blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, turns his head to look at the time and sees JiYong slumped on a chair beside him, sleeping.

But SeungRi hasn’t gotten his coffee yet, disgusting habit that he picked up, gets up and showers, taking JiYong’s towel because his own is wet, though he doesn’t know why. He walks to the kitchen, wet, sees JiYong standing there, remembers.

The first thing SeungRi asks is if it’s true.

You’ve already read the papers, SeungRi.

SeungRi has to ask again, this time louder, this time with half-tears and three-quarter-angers in his voice. Is it true, JiYong, is it true?

This time JiYong says yes, yes it’s true, whispers sorry.

SeungRi wonders, then what about us? Were we true? What about this? SeungRi yanks the chain from his neck and brandishes the ring dangling from the metal at JiYong’s face. Was this true, too?

JiYong answers, he says yes, SeungRi shakes his head and sobs, screams, hurts.

You’re wrong, because if we were your name would only show up inked on my heart, not on cheap daily newspapers.

SeungRi holds the thin chain to his heart, cradling, crying, did I really mean that little to you?

SeungRi please, JiYong begs, because JiYong loves SeungRi, doesn’t know where he’d be without him, doesn’t know who he is without him, isn’t JiYong without SeungRi, and JiYong likes being JiYong, very much.

There’s only so much SeungRi can take, there’s only so much I can forgive, JiYong. Once, I can’t, twice… There’s only so much, JiYong, only so much.

JiYong screams no, stumbles forward, hands outstretched, what is going on? How ing cliché. It doesn’t happen like this, not in real life, not in JiYong’s life. Because in JiYong’s life was SeungRi, and SeungRi didn’t want to be there anymore, it seemed. How ing cliché. ing cliché. Something out of the weak lyrics JiYong strings together in his free time. ing cliché, he’s a ing cliché, SeungRi’s a china doll, JiYong’s a careless child who’s just broken the china doll.

Get out, says SeungRi, too far gone. Gone because there’s only so much SeungRi can take, SeungRi’s not weak, but he’s not invincible, he’s a child. He’s not meant for this, this working two jobs for food and a roof, this constant on-off up-down left-right, this breaking, this ripping and tearing. SeungRi’s meant for university and a pretty wife and a couple of kids. He’s not supposed to be married to a cheater.

JiYong’s JiYong again, if only for a little moment, he’s nasty and angry and cutting, just the way SeungRi’s come to be addicted to. A little insane. Irrational. He says things. Things like and what if I want to stay, this is our apartment, I'm not leaving, not until you underst—

SeungRi says yours, JiYong snaps his mouth shut and narrows his eyes. Yours, the apartment is yours, because if you won’t leave than I will. And you can have this back.

JiYong watches the ring bounce towards his foot, the ring they picked together and matched the one on his fourth finger, the one SeungRi hid because they were men for God’s sake.

It means as little to me as I do to you.

---

SeungRi doesn’t come when JiYong signs the last of the papers, and maybe that was for the better anyway, since JiYong doesn’t want SeungRi to see what he’s become, in the few weeks that have past.

JiYong relinquishes the pen he had clenched in his fingers, drops it, and relinquishes his hold on the last reminder that tied SeungRi to his heart.

He heard that SeungRi had gone home, home to his small town, the little boy just didn’t fit in with the big city.

JiYong thinks it’s unfair, is he not allowed to make some goddamn mistakes, at all? Does he have to be as goddamn perfect as goddamn SeungRi all the goddamn time?

Everyone tells him yes, JiYong regrets like he always does, grasps at non-existent straws. Wants his love back, wants his morning coffee back, wants his couch partner back, wants his heart back, wants everything back, wants SeungRi back.

---

Squandered, JiYong’s squandered, he has nothing left, he rents a tux that doesn’t fit at all with the money he doesn’t have. He finds a comb, finds shoelaces, scrambles in his pockets for the address.

SeungRi looks beautiful, he always had, he’s not a boy anymore. This kid, this kid YoungBae, waits for SeungRi down the ing aisle, smiling like SeungRi’s his. JiYong doesn’t want to understand why SeungRi’s smile is identical to this kid YoungBae’s.

The reception is full of laughing people, YoungBae doesn’t have enemies or judging friends, and SeungRi had no one else anyway. This was the way SeungRi should have gotten it the first time, not a secret flight to Las Vegas and a five minute ceremony and a few signed papers.

SeungRi spots JiYong, and JiYong hurts because SeungRi doesn’t look like he’s hurt at all. JiYong offers him a half-smile and three-quarters of a wave, SeungRi walks over smiling.

One last dance? JiYong asks, his heart thudding, his hand outstretched and waiting.

One last dance, SeungRi replies, taking the all-too familiar hand. The band plays, JiYong sways, SeungRi’s head rests on JiYong’s shoulder like they used to when they waltzed in their tiny living room with no music just for kicks. SeungRi listens to JiYong’s heart, JiYong listens to SeungRi breathing, they remember and remember, SeungRi hides how much he hurts.

The song ends, somehow SeungRi pulls away with just a smidge of hesitation. This kid YoungBae claims him next, JiYong thinks there’s no point anymore, leaves.

---

JiYong’s a cliché with an achy-breaky heart, doesn’t know what the point is, he’s just a sad love song, a piner. His life is three-and-a-half minutes of trembly singing, SeungRi’s happy, one chapter ends but no other chapter begins. JiYong wonders if this is it.

It’s not, of course, there are a million other people, a billion. But no one quite like SeungRi. He’s sure people would understand, when he’d tell his story one day, that one that got away, that one JiYong pushed away on accident by purpose.

AN: LOL at the style of my writing for this. By the way, it is PURPOSEFULLY messy. Quite incoherent. Confusing. I get it. Sorry if you don't. For all my readers, I miss you <3