Jonghyun didn't use a coffee maker: it would be too simple for him, probably. Instead, he brewed his coffee in a vintage saucepan that he must have bought at a flea market.

He put the saucepan on the stove and asked if Jinki would like a cup, too, which he declined. Adding just enough coffee for one person, Jonghyun asked matter-of-factly if it was cold outside, and Jinki's face twisted as if hit by bright sunlight or in pain.

“Do you think I'm really in the mood to talk about the weather right now?!”

“Just wanted to do something about the awkward silence between us.”

“You could do away with it by answering my questions.”

“And you could use some manners in my house and put your down, but we all got our quirks, don't we?” Jonghyun parried, looking perfectly tranquil as he gave the guest a meaningful look over the shoulder.

Jinki obeyed, but not without demonstrating his distress by yanking the buttons on his jacket open.

He took a look around him. The one-room apartment that Jonghyun occupied was spacious and clean, with a tall window and a twin-sized bed, as well as enough room for a proper bookshelf, a vinyl record player, a guitar and a big leather couch to coexist without cluttering the space. A few pictures in frames hung on the creamy white walls.

“Was your place always this nice?” Jinki asked, still irritated, but distracted for a moment by the pleasant interior.

“Yep. But you were never this sober when you came here before.”

“How can you afford it?”

“I could always afford it.”

“Do you charge that much?”

Jonghyun chuckled, stirring the liquid.

“No, I charge what I'm worth. Which is not enough to cover this, by the way... My family is well off, so it never was a problem.”

“Weren't you whining about being poor?”

“No, that was you and Kibum. I was always content.”

Jinki frowned, perplexed.

“Then why all the hookering?”

“I wanted to do something different. Meet new people, hear their stories... I was exploring, I guess?”

Jonghyun shrugged.

“So, Bummie was in it for the clothes, you were bored and I was the only one who needed the money to live,” the other observed with a bitter chuckle.

The water started boiling and Jonghyun took the saucepan off the stove.

Even in his exasperated state, Jinki couldn't deny that there was something numbingly relaxing about Jjong being so slow and meticulous with his coffee as he watched the brown liquid pour languidly into a small Chinese cup, painted beautifully with blue ink.

“Yes, you were the honest working man.”

When the beverage cooled down enough to drink, Jonghyun emptied the cup in one thirsty gulp.

He picked up the remote and the music stopped playing. Then, he leaned against the counter. Raised his eyes.

Jjong shielded himself from the hard glare of his friend by crossing his arms on his chest as he asked, softly:

“Why do you think that I've met him?”

“Because I read your manhwa.”

“So what? I was aware of what was going on because of what you told us. What I didn't hear from you, I must have heard from Kibum. Add to that a few scenes you guys made, 'cause, let's face it, you weren't exactly private or quiet...”

Jinki broke him off:

“The box.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

“What?”

“The Guadetama box. The fact that you saw and heard some stuff from me, doesn't explain how a precise detail like that found its way into your crappy story.”

Jonghyun's face looked perfectly calm, but his voice wasn't as confident as before when he replied:

“You must have mentioned it.”

Jinki shook his head.

“Except that I know I didn't. Just like I know that I didn't tell anyone about the time he went to the sea with his mom after his dad beat her up. I wouldn't tell anyone about something like that. It was… it was a secret.”

“But him telling you that he was going to slit his wrists wasn't?”

Jinki rose to his feet sharply and walked to the window.

“I'm not saying I didn't share other things I shouldn't have shared. I'm already regretting telling some less important things, don't you worry! I feel that I shouldn't have opened my mouth at all!”

He cussed. He hadn't expected himself to heat up so quickly.

“Don't be so hard on yourself.”

Jinki turned around.

“Did you meet him or not?!”

Pause.

“I did.”

“When?!”

Jonghyun faltered.

“It's difficult to answer.”

“Why?… Did you meet him more than once?”

He nodded.

“A few times.”

Jinki gritted his teeth.

“Did you have with him?”

“Is it important?”

“Did you?!”

“I did what he paid me to do,” Jonghyun admitted reluctantly.

His guest had been pushing him for a truthful answer, but upon hearing it, he shook his head stubbornly, as if rejecting it, and cried:

“But it's wrong! It's... you can't - you can't sleep with Taemin! He's...”

“What? Yours?”

Jinki said nothing. He probably didn't mean it the way his friend interpreted it, but couldn't reiterate, either: he didn't feel like he knew what he was saying himself.

“We mostly talked. I met him at a bar last year and I didn't realize he was the guy you had told us about, because I had no idea what he looked like yet. We hit it off, I guess... I mean, in a conversational way.”

“And?”

Jonghyun sighed, walking to the couch to sit down.

“And we went to a motel where we... talked more. I mean, mostly talked, as I said.” He wasn't a kind of person who'd feel comfortable explaining themselves to anyone, but Jinki's unrelenting stubbornness was too much for him to deal with at this hour. “I thought he was interesting as a person, and it felt like we had something in common... All the artsy talk, the cynicism… Then he started talking about some guy he was aching over who wasn't talking to him after a fight and the puzzle pieces kind of came to fit together, and I realized it was you.”

“And at that moment you got up and left because you thought it completely unethical?”

Jjong looked away.

“No... I listened to everything, because that was all he wanted from me, really. We didn't exchange contacts or anything. He vented, we parted and that was all.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Why would I tell you? You said you were over at the time. You were talking about him as if he was some annoying fanboy of yours that you were happy to be finally rid of.”

The fire of anger in Jinki's eyes subsided.

“I never talked about him that way,” he argued in a more collected voice.

“Then the way I heard it must be very different from the way you said it,” Jonghyun parried, and Jinki couldn't argue with him. “Anyway... I saw you and him outside the café later and had no doubts anymore. You started meeting him again, but then you fought, again, and I ran into him at the same bar...”

“How convenient.”

“…By accident. We started talking and he wanted to go somewhere else, but he was wasted, and I persuaded him to go home and put him into a taxi.”

“And that time you did exchange contacts?”

“Yes. I gave him my Kakao ‘just in case’.”

“And that's how your beautiful and trusting friendship started,” Jinki said sarcastically.

Jonghyun's eyes shifted to the floor.

“Maybe I should've told him that I know you right away,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “It wasn't really a ‘friendship’. Sometimes we talked when he needed to vent.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. I thought he was lonely and needed someone to lend an ear.”

Jinki scoffed.

“Sure. Because there was no one else giving him their time and energy.”

“Maybe he needed to confide in someone without having to feel like a piece of afterwards,” Jonghyun argued, losing his patience.

“Oh, really? I thought I was the one who felt like a piece of , because it was me who had to drop everything and rush to get him every time something got into his head, like I had nothing else to do!”

“You really like to talk about yourself.”

“At least I stick to the subjects I know about.”

Jonghyun chuckled.

“Because subjects you don't know about make you angry? Smart. The fact that you don't realize that I don't have to tolerate this interrogation from you at this hour – not so much.”

Jinki took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second – possibly to suppress the impulse to apply his fist to his lover's best friend's face.

“Well, I have to tolerate the whole wide world knowing about that single part of my life that I'd like to forget about. If that wasn't the case, I wouldn't be here conducting this ‘interrogation’ in the first place.”

Jjong nodded.

“Touché.”

He continued:

“I only met him once after that. That's all.”

“After we broke up?”

“Yes, in about a couple weeks or so.”

“He told you he was going to kill himself.”

“He did.”

“And what did you do?”

“What could I do? How can words of a stranger have any effect in a situation like that?”

“Guy tells you he's going to off himself, and your reaction is to draw him swallowing and then cutting his veins open on a pretty beach?”

Jonghyun sprang up from his chair. In the dim light of his room, Jinki was looking at him with pure disdain, contorting every feature of his usually impassive, daydreaming face, pouring out in every word he said like poison – in the words laced with irony, but heavy behind the cynical laugh.

He'd never seen him like that before. He couldn't recall anyone looking at him like that before.

“Guy tells you he's going to off himself, and your reaction is to leave him!”

“I did all I could!” Jinki cried angrily. “And I have my limits, too! He'd said he was gonna do it dozens of times, but he'd never gone through with it!… But you, you used his pain and turned it into an attraction!”

“I'm not saying that you should've stuck with him!” the other argued. “I'm saying that you finished it for a reason, so what's the point of fighting over this right now? It's not like you were in an actual relationship!”

Jinki furrowed his brow, shaking his head.

“How do you ing know whether it was an actual relationship or not?! How can you judge that?! You weren't there when I was, and you know nothing! And for all I know, he could be dead right now!”

Jjong bit his lip and answered in a calmer voice:

“I know it will sound harsh. But he could've died a hundred times since you ended things, and you would've never known. Why suffering so much about something you couldn't possibly do anything about? He didn't deserve his condition, but it wasn't your job to stay and fix him. You were earning your living.”

“Does it mean I should just shrug it off? I didn't leave because I didn't care if he lived or died. I left because I felt like I was losing my mind! I didn't want him to go through any more pain than he'd already endured. Yes, maybe... maybe I didn't understand his pain, or didn't want to understand, but I never wanted him to die... I mean, it's Taemin ... I... never...”

Jinki's voice trembled and sat down, covering his face in his hands.

“He didn't want to go through any more pain, either. Don't blame yourself,” Jonghyun said softly.

“Who says I'm blaming myself? I'm blaming you.”

“Everything I'm seeing in front of me right now says it. But, go on, blame me if it makes you feel better.”

Jonghyun gave a deep, heavy sigh and sat next to his distressed guest and reclined, exhausted in spite of his coffee.

He gave up.

“Of course, I don't want him to be dead, either... When he told me he was going to take his life, that he had a plan and all, I tried to change his mind. I told him that it was a moment in time, that he should wait and he would be relieved that he hadn't ended it, later… Told him to get help and talk to his mom, said that medications and therapy could work wonders. I said all I could, but, in his eyes, I... he just wouldn't listen. I didn't let him go until he acknowledged what I was saying, but I guess he promised me to talk to his mother just to shut me up... He was in a state, he'd been drinking... I tried to contact him after as well, but his Kakao account was deleted.”

“And you didn't tell me.”

“You were with your mother and I knew that you wanted to forget. I didn't want to put you through all of that again.”

“Is that why you decided to turn us into your paper dolls?”

Jonghyun rubbed his face, regret visible in his features – an expression that Jinki would have seen, if only he wasn't still hiding behind his palms, as if trying to erase himself from the reality around him, or at least block it in a belated state of denial.

His friend looked at him. A thought struck him.

I don't think I really know him.

Maybe it was guilt that Jinki was so unsuccessfully hiding. Maybe it was a skin-deep anger mixed with belated jealousy tearing him apart. Perhaps it was merely a play of shadow, but it seemed for a second that his fingers were trembling.

He was pathetic.

“I didn't write my story to make light of anything... I was thinking about Taemin a lot, worried about him, and I guess that's how I process my emotions – through my art. I thought that his story needed to be heard. That people needed to know that tragedies like that can happen to sensitive people, and that they shouldn't be alone. He's special, you know...”

“I know.”

“Look... There's a chance he didn't go through with it.”

“There's a chance he did. He'd never made a plan before.”

None of them had anything to say for a while, until Jinki stood up slowly and walked to the door, slouched like an old man, a little unsteady, and Jonghyun murmured:

“I'm sorry. I really am.”

“He'll never know, so you don't have to be.”

“No, I'm saying that to you.”

Jinki, who was putting his shoes on, looked at him.

“I was surprised to learn that you've hated me all this time.”

He just couldn't get the stupid manhwa out of his mind.

“I can't say that I love you more than anything, but I never hated you, Jinki,” Jjong argued. “You are complicated, and you have layers. Even the people who care about you, you keep at arm's length, but then you're the funnest, silliest guy around when you're in the mood. I find you interesting.”

“You hate the idea of me and Kibum together.”

“That's not true. Maybe I was confused by his fondness for you at first, because he usually goes after guys who are typically hot, tall or highly artistic. But I can see it now... You are the perfect damaged prince for him to try to fix. You make puns, but boy your words can cut when you want them to. It's kind of attractive, really.”

A sting was buried in that description, but Jonghyun looked earnest while delivering it – as if he was caught up analyzing the intricate facets of a fascinating character he'd made up. Jinki didn't know if any of that held truth.

His friend saw that he didn't believe him.

“Kibum and I are over. He can do what he wants, and me disapproving of your relationship would make no sense.”

Jinki's hand froze on the way to the lock button.

“What?”

Jonghyun looked back it him, perplexed.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“What are you talking about? What's over?”

“Kibum and I used to be in a relationship. You didn't know?”

The other stared at him, dumbfounded.

“No. Were you?”

Jonghyun pressed his palm to his forehead, realizing what he had revealed.

“.”

Jinki's raised hand fell limply to his side.

“When? For how long?” he asked in a faded voice.

“We were together for almost a year before you came around. That is, when you came around, we were almost done... Listen, Jinki, I-”

“He told me you just had once.”

“Well, technically he told you the truth... After we broke up, it did happen only once.”

“Why would he hide the fact that you dated from me? I don't get it.”

“Maybe it's because somebody shamed him for falling for his best friends?… I don't force him to tell me everything. He just does,” Jonghyun added, as if that could help Jinki not feel any more betrayed than he already did.

Jinki nodded, though it was not clear what he was agreeing with. He stood there without saying anything, his pale, expressionless face showing that he had retreated into his own thoughts – but those were thoughts that gave him no comfort. His dry lips were slightly open, his unseeing eyes were fixed mournfully on the shadow in front of him.

Jonghyun had apologized a few times already – if not with words, he had done it with his eyes, through the softening of his voice, but he wouldn't truly take the blame. He had done no wrong to Jinki personally – he had concluded that before, and still thought so.

He was looking at his friend, standing motionlessly by his doorstep, and his broken countenance, together with his defeated posture, were attractive to his eye. He thought he was beautiful, he wanted to write him, to preserve that moment of quiet torment. Touch him, maybe... And he understood that he was in pain, but...

It's hard to sympathize with those who keep everything within themselves.

The soft contours of Jinki's face, outlined by the dim candle light so perfectly, evoked more emotion in him than the narrative – essentially a tale of bad timing and bad misunderstandings – of the real world that had brought him to his door.

“My past lover is dead because I abandoned him, my current one lies to me, and my friend stuck a knife in my back and called it Art,” Jinki concluded.

Jonghyun touched his arm, let his hand slide up to the young man's shoulder – because he couldn't resist.

“You're tired. Stop beating yourself up,” he murmured as his fingers moved to Jinki's neck and brushed his jaw gently.

Jinki jerked away, and his friend sighed.

“You should go to bed. Maybe tomorrow will bring some relief.”

“Meaningless. All of your words, everything.”

With that, Jinki left, slamming the door behind him.

The sun was rising when he brought his exhausted body back home and collapsed on the bed, all of his strength drained out of him. Somehow, he felt like he was a different man the last time he had laid in it. Kibum turned to his side and opened his eyes.

“Where were you for so long?” he asked hoarsely.

“In hell,” Jinki answered, telling the truth.

“We should stop drinking so much.”

“Yeah.”

Kibum's eyes closed again, giving in to the heaviness of sleep pressing down on them.

“Bummie.”

“Hm?”

“I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me.”

With great effort, Kibum lifted his eyelids again. Jinki didn't talk like that usually.

“I'm not hiding anything from you.”

“If there's something you're not telling me, you can just say it.”

Kibum put his hand under his pillow and took a big breath. Jinki could see that he was struggling to keep himself awake. But it was important to say it now.

“If I'm not telling you something, then it's not important. If it is, it will come up. I promise.”

Something in his boyfriend's sleepy morning face brought Jinki a bit of relief from his anxiety, even if only for a moment. Kibum's half-conscious words made sense. He always told the truth to him, after all. And when he didn't, his obvious inability to be a convincing liar betrayed it all.

“Okay.”

“Are you hiding anything from me?”

“Only the fact that I'm an idiot.”

“You've failed, then. I know you are,” Kibum said, drifting off to sleep, again.

Jinki smiled – in his mind. His body was too tired.

And the sleep claimed him, too, coming as salvation from the terror of his thoughts.

Contrary to Kibum's expectations, Forever 21 wasn't hiring employees all year round. But he didn't fret, saying that he ‘couldn't deal’ with three floors without an elevator anyway. Instead, he went to the Uniqlo near the subway and sled right into the spot previously occupied by a girl who'd been fired for taking 30-minute bathroom breaks.

Not thrown off by the BBD (short for Basic Disaster, as he referred to it), Kibum was, however, feeling nervous getting ready for his first day at the new place.

“I never wanna say any nasty stuff, but it just comes out of nowhere!” he complained, throwing up his hands helplessly in front of the mirror, a metallic comb lodged between his fingers.

He didn't get any response.

“Jinki!”

His boyfriend, who was also ready to leave the house, was sitting on the bed and putting his socks on.

“Hmm?”

“I'm starting another ing job today!”

“Yeah, you're gonna do great,” Jinki said absently.

“But I'm a nasty ! If I didn't open my mouth to perform , I'm gonna say mean to people out of good intentions!”

“You don't say any mean to me, though. Apart from calling me an absolute moron from time to time, but I guess that's a term of endearment.”

Kibum applied some hair spray to his temples as a finishing touch and turned around.

“But that's because you're the precious son of a wonderful woman and my shining companion, but other people are mere fellow primates that I need to teach how to live! I'm mean.”

“You're not mean, you're just... you can be difficult to chew for the unprepared,” Jinki argued.

“Which means that I'll go there and try to be pleasant for a couple of hours and ignore how slow and inefficient other people are, but then a coffee break will start, and someone's gonna say that a woman can't make a good president, or confuse ‘gay’ and ‘transgender’, or say that uggs are a great idea, and there I'll be, surrounded by white faces and tanned necks, unevenly shaved temples and visible wedgies everywhere, and get a freaking heart attack from keeping quiet!” Kibum said so many things in such a short time, he needed to catch his breath.

He was really agitated.

“Are uggs really that bad?”

“Hell, YES, they're bad! And I didn't even mention how some very socially active girl is gonna ask if I have a girlfriend, and when I foolishly tell her that I don't, she'll forcefully set me up with some third cousin of hers, I'll insult her shoes and have to marry her as apology, and our kids will be traditionally minded bigots who spit on the pavement and put BB cream all over their faces before going on a blind date. Even on the lips! And I'll have to go to the army! Army, Jinki! I'm a guy with an eight-step beauty routine!… And I didn't even mention getting fired – again!”

By the end of that second outburst he hadn't even known he still had the energy for, Kibum's voice had jumped up a good octave or two.

Jinki was looking at him apathetically.

“You have some very specific fears, Bummie. You need to discuss them with someone maybe.”

Kibum rubbed his eyes.

“I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm feeling weird. Must be full moon today.”

“Scientists say that full moons don't really affect anything.”

“Scientists should shut their pie holes 'cause no one asked.” Kibum noticed that he was getting riled up again. “See what I'm talking about?!”

“Yeah...”

He frowned.

“Honey, are you okay? You look so pale these days.”

“I'm fine. I didn't sleep well.”

Kibum checked his watch and sighed.

“Are you sure you don't wanna go out together?”

“I need to read something first.”

“Uh, okay... Can you tell me a joke before I go?” Kibum's lower lip puckered up.

“Your face.”

He smiled and came closer to put a kiss on Jinki's forehead.

“You never fail me.”

“Good luck at the new workplace,” the other said, watching him put his shoes on.

“You too!” Kibum pulled a face, realizing the stupidity of his chipper reply. “No, I mean... , I'm turning into you.”

He left, and once more his lover was confronted with the change that came after him. When Kibum was there, the room felt like a home, welcoming, tidy, bright – beige, and green, and pastel-colored, and when he vanished, it was just a room again – a functional, ordinary space where things didn't get done by themselves, and it was grey and blue, and brown, just like Jinki's thoughts.

He stood up, ready to go and be a student for the rest of the day, and walked to the window. It was invitingly sunny outside.

He pulled the blinds down and went back to bed, where he drifted off in his street clothes, as soon as his head touched the pillow.

He'd hardly slept a wink the night before. But it couldn't be the only cause for his irresponsible behavior – his head had been so cloudy lately. It's not that he wanted to stop caring about everything. He just did. A lot of things ceased to matter, and going outside and moving happened to be on that list. And when Jinki did try to clear up his mind, he found that time was running too fast for him to keep up, and another day was over, and he had failed to pick himself up, again.

Given how little energy he had, giving up trying only made sense.

How many hours had he missed in college? How many days he had attended the classes physically, but not mentally? How many ‘sick days’ before he lost his tutoring position? He'd lost count.

After a string of random nonsensical dreams, he turned to the other side again and was awoken by a distinct sensation that he wasn't alone in his bed anymore.

When he lifted his eyelids, he saw Taemin, peaceful and well-rested, lying by his side and sharing his blanket. He was , and his eyes were fixed on Jinki's face.

“How can you be here?” Jinki whispered.

“I never left,” Taemin answered with a soft smile.

“But I never brought you here.”

“But you did. You bring me everywhere. I kind of hope that the next stop is Paris.”

“Did you die?”

“I'm as dead as you are, my love.”

Jinki felt a lump in his throat.

“Were you scared when you did it?”

Taemin laughed.

“I was all alone – of course, I was scared. You don't kill yourself every day.”

He raised his hand to push Jinki's overgrown bangs away from his eyes.

“You need a haircut.”

“No. I need you.”

Taemin raised himself up and moved closer. He traced the outline of Jinki's lips with his fingertip before leaning in to kiss him. Jinki felt a wave of arousal rippling through him at the sensation of the warm lips touching his own. He opened his mouth wider, tilting his head, pressing his lover tighter to his body. The lust that roused his dulled senses was so desperate and so strong, it was unbearable.

Taemin's lips parted obediently, and Jinki lost control of himself, giving in to passion.

He opened his eyes. He was lying on his bed, face down. Alone.

When he sat up, his head was reeling. He didn't know what time it was, and didn't care. The growling in his stomach told him that his body was hungry.

Jinki made himself move. He turned the air con on and walked to the fridge. “The next stop is Paris!” a colourful magnet Kibum had found in a cereal box was promising.

He opened the door and dived straight to the ‘forbidden’ section where the alcohol he had vowed not to touch when alone was stored. He took a bottle of soju, opened it and took a few big gulps. The grapefruit-flavored liquid burned his chest and went straight into his head – he was exhausted enough.

He drank a bit more and went back to bed, because being awake made him sick.

Despite having numerous attempts to land a job behind his shoulders, Kibum was still used to the two-hour bubble baths with a book and the general loitering about that earning his easy money in 15 minutes of mild humiliation used to allow him. He got tired fast and couldn't wait until it was 10 o'clock and he could go back to Jinki's room, drop himself on that memory foam mattress that he had helped to pick and relax.

“Uh, thank God, it's over,” he muttered once he was home.

Jinki was sitting at the desk with his laptop open, playing a game, probably.

“Was it that bad?” he asked without taking his eyes off the monitor.

“Well...” Kibum threw his shoes off and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. “I didn't get fired and I didn't insult anyone out loud, but my full moon theory still stands. People are bumping into each other, dropping things, tripping over their feet and generally being weird...”

“Sounds like an ordinary day to me.”

Kibum chuckled.

“Yeah, it's like the whole world turned into Lee Jinki for a day. Did you miss me?”

“No, not really,” Jinki muttered.

“er.”

Kibum came closer to give his boyfriend a peck on the mouth.

“How was your day?”

The other shrugged.

“Just normal.”

“You need a haircut.”

“Yes.”

Kibum didn't take his unresponsiveness to heart – he knew how draining a whole day of social interactions could be for Jinki, so he didn't insist on any more probing. He'd seen him sitting like that in the evening, a ghost of a man, before. But his gut was telling him to check the forbidden section in the fridge, just in case.

There were four unopened bottles of grapefruit soju, like before. The ingredients for cooking looked untouched, too, but Jinki must have lunched at the college canteen.

Kibum picked up his phone and opened the food delivery app. He didn't have the energy to cook right now.

“Do you mind if I get Bob's Bobby?”

“You told me not to let you get Bob's Bobby ever again.”

“Why?”

“You said the chicken was too greasy and not worth the regret after.”

He clicked his tongue.

“The past me is such a killjoy.”

But he couldn't argue with his own wisdom, so he decided to make pasta instead – if he was going rogue, he would be sure that the quality of the food was good, at least.

He was chopping a zucchini while waiting for the water to boil, when his phone rang.

“Minki?”

Kibum picked up, intrigued – and very soon he forgot all about his pasta.

When he put the phone down slowly, his face was void of any expression, but the eyes – the eyes were b with tears.

The water was boiling and sizzling as it spilled over the brim of the pot and onto the stove, and Kibum couldn't move to stand up and take the lid off. He sat, unmoving, struck by shock and grief. A tear trickled down his cheek and dropped to the table, and he still didn't move.

Jinki looked at him.

Without saying anything, he got up and took the lid off himself before turning the stove off altogether.

He sat down in front of his boyfriend.

“Bummie.”

Kibum raised his pink, tearful eyes.

“Minki's boyfriend, Jaewoong... The guy from the band... He's dead.”

Jinki gulped.

“How?”

“Suicide. His parents found out he was gay and weren't having it.” Kibum's lips trembled. “What's wrong with the world?”

Jinki took his boyfriend's hand and held it in his own while he cried. Kibum had barely known the guy, but was shattered anyway – his heart was big enough.

Minki wasn't allowed to go to the service – and no one was surprised. Instead, he gathered a few of his closest friends and, as a way to honor the memory of the deceased, they went to Jaewoong's favorite pajeon restaurant.

Jinki had only met the guy once or twice, and heard him play a few times, but where Kibum went, he was supposed to go now, too. He knew that his support was needed, and he also had a real excuse to drink some more alcohol – but he didn't want to dwell on that reason, as it would make him feel like a terrible person.

Jonghyun, whom he hadn't seen for a couple of weeks, also dropped by, and gave Jinki a disapproving look as he opened another bottle without announcing it.

But Jinki didn't spare him a glance. He would've listened to Kibum if he had reprimanded him, but he was busy being a human pillow holding Minki in his arms as he was falling apart.

“I can't imagine my life without him,” he repeated for a dozenth time, choked by tears. “He completed me the way nobody else could.”

“He was a great guy,” another friend of his agreed.

“I'm mad at him, though,” Minki confessed. “I know that he was in pain, and it wasn't only about his parents being , but... He killed the person I loved. But the world is... fine… It keeps going... It doesn't give a . Just like his mom and dad when they watched him crumble. He died, and it doesn't even matter... And I was of no ing help at all.”

He pressed his hand to his mouth as another wave of grief crashed over him.

“Suicide is a tragedy. Always,” Jonghyun said quietly. “Even if the world doesn't stop going... Because behind each untimely death, there's a loneliness. There are a few turned backs. A few self-absorbed strangers who didn't bother to take care of them beyond the usual empty advice. It isn't right.”

Jinki felt that Jjong looked at him as he said those last words. Their eyes met.

“It's our collective responsibility as a society,” Jonghyun continued. “Don't try to carry the whole weight by yourself.”

Jinki looked away, feeling a lump in his chest.

“Thank you for saying that,” Minki answered in a quivering voice.

Jinki emptied another glass and looked through the window, at people bustling and going about their way, not burdened by thoughts of death, guilt or loneliness. He felt like they were miles away, standing at that crossing and anticipating the joys of the awaiting night – it was Friday.

The last time he'd eaten pajeon, he'd been with his mother. She had managed to bring him back to life, to remind him that he was young and free to be whoever he wanted to be, had a right to be loved and to make mistakes. It had taken him a hard fall back into the darkness to finally realize how happy and purified he had felt for that moment. His mother's affectionate words were miles away, too.

“It's not like you were in an actual relationship!”

Sure.

The others were saying something, too, but Jinki's mind wandered off. He was watching a single figure that passed by the window and stopped at the crossing, a bit away from the crowd (he would've done the same) – a lone dark figure outlined by the red light.

Something glistened – an earring. A cross-shaped earring.

He tensed up. He couldn't see the face – he could only see the stranger from the back.

Jinki watched him take his phone out of his pocket – he had quite a few rings. The young man turned his face to the side a bit, and though it didn't provide any clarity, Jinki felt his heart beat faster. There was a vague familiarity in the shape of that cheekbone.

The lights would change soon. He looked at his company – a group of young men sitting quietly in their dark clothes, speaking in low voices.

He couldn't just spring up and run to see if it was him. That wouldn't be right. That would be selfish. Disrespectful. Awful.

The lights were still red. There was still time. His throat went dry.

“If only I could see him again,” Minki murmured. “If only I could hear his voice again, just for a moment.”

The stranger dropped his phone back into the pocket of his jacket and shifted his weight, impatient to cross.

The pounding in his temples became unbearable.

“…I'd tell him that none of that was his fault.”

The lights flicked, and before his mind could even register it, Jinki was pushing through the crowd by the doors to get out.

People were crossing from both sides of the road in a wide, chaotic flow, and Jinki lost his stranger in the crowd. His eyes flickered between random figures, all in vain – he was gone.

And, by the time the red light switched on again, he wasn't sure he'd been there at all. His mind hadn't been his friend lately, and he couldn't trust his senses anymore.

He turned around. Kibum was looking straight at him through the window, a wordless question in his eyes.

Jinki took a pack of smokes out of his pocket. There were only a couple of cigarettes left.

He took a drag and switched his brain off, or rather it collapsed by itself under the tension it had suffered. There was no space in his mind for worrying what others would think of him at this point.

When he came back, he explained that he had needed some air – nobody cared for his obvious lie. Not even Kibum – he had other priorities for now.

When they were waiting for a taxi they had called for Minki, the young man confessed:

“I know I'm supposed to pick myself up sooner or later, but I just can't imagine it right now. I can't see the light... And there's nothing left of him, too... Nothing...”

He wasn't crying anymore. That was just how he was feeling. Kibum wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder.

“It was a good restaurant, though,” Jinki joked suddenly.

A chilly silence came.

He was ready to apologize for his bizarre slip when Minki laughed.

Kibum looked at him in surprise, and he laughed even more.

Minki got out of his embrace and walked to Jinki to give him a hug.

“Thank you,” the young man said, patting his back.

Jonghyun took a bus he could do without, and Jinki and Kibum didn't speak while they were walking home. But Jinki took his hand and laced their fingers together, so that none of them was alone in the shadows.

When they got home, Kibum said nothing about what had happened at the restaurant.

“I love you,” he told Jinki when they were both in bed, prepared to sleep.

“Thank you.”

“Sometimes I want to hear you say it, too. Because there are moments when I don't know how to read your silence.”

Kibum's eyes were sad, vulnerable.

Jinki gulped.

“Just because I don't say it, it doesn't mean that I don't feel it,” he whispered.

“Sometimes I just can't tell.”

“Nobody can tell, but I feel a lot of things. Deeply. And the deeper they are, the harder they are to talk about.”

A tear trickled down Kibum's cheek, and Jinki kissed him before flicking the light off.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

A/N: Dear readers! My chapters are slowly getting longer and longer, haha... It took me a bit longer to complete this one, hope you will enjoy it! As always, thank you for reading, subscribing and sharing your thoughts with me~ L. ^^