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Part Two.

The diner is an ominous sight, bright lights illuminating the otherwise dark street, brighter than even the streetlamps. Busan, she thinks, is a beautiful sight to behold even in the evening darkness, though the hairs at the back of her neck prickle at the fact that it’s not even that late out—it’s barely even eight o’clock, yet the streets are so, so empty. Occasionally, she thinks she sees curtains flutter as she drives past, especially when the van’s headlights reflect off the dark windows of passing houses. Even the twenty-four-hour convenience store is a dark beacon in what feels like a ghost town, the only lights indicating that they’re open coming from the blinking OPEN signs over their doors and the faint flourescent lights streaming out from closed blinds. The food stands are locks shut and if she listens very closely she can hear the faintest sound of the soft crashing of waves from the sea.

She takes a quick picture of the surprisingly not empty parking lot and the looming, slightly ominous diner next to it, it's store sign flickering in and out of existence. The dark sky and bright, bright moon is an eerie, too bright backdrop, hanging over their heads as if to remind them of the sun hiding behind it and how it's even affecting the moon. She is reminded of what the sun is supposed to unleash on them very soon (the night isn’t cool either, strangely warm like it’s been for weeks—months— now, a gradual thing, until the news finally dropped, and it became so much more obvious why it was getting hotter, even at night). She doesn’t even look at the Polaroid, stuffing it into her crossbody bag, swiveling on her heels at Chanyeol’s loud groan as he tumbles out of the car, stretching upwards. Kyungsoo holds the door as he lumbers out, squinting in a way that makes him look annoyed. Kyungri sticks her head out of the car, frowning at Yeeun, before fully stepping out, shutting the door, Jongdae and Baekhyun rounding the car and joining them.

Kyungri’s frown deepens as she hugs her neck pillow to her chest, “Where’s Junmyeon?”

Chanyeol immediately straightens up, hands dropping to his side as he looks around them, under the car, as if he thinks Junmyeon’s hiding under there.

Kyungsoo stops rubbing his eyes, staring from Yeeun to Jongdae to Baekhyun, clearly noticing that they’re exchanging looks, lips pressed together.

Then Kyungsoo's eyes slide over to Yeeun and he says, “Yeeun, where’s Junmyeon?”

Yeeun knows Kyungsoo singles her out because they both know she isn’t good at hiding things from Kyungsoo.

(Kyungsoo was her first friend. She met him before she met Kyungri and they connected instantly over books and drawing Dragon Ball-Z characters and she can’t lie to him, not when he looks at her with such wide, soul-searching eyes. He knows she can’t and he uses it to his advantage, mostly for little things, but uses it nonetheless. Sometimes, she hates him for it.)

“He—I—” She frowns, glances around the parking lot and the handful of cars parked in the bright-darkness, before she sighs and says, “He drove us somewhere and got out. I think—he’s visiting someone.” She blurts out, brows crinkling in annoyance at herself and Kyungsoo.

Jongdae sighs, loudly, but pats her back nonetheless, reassuring her. Baekhyun just snorts, clealy unamused.

“Who?” Chanyeol asks, demands really, and there’s a look in his eyes, something that tells her—

“We don’t know.” Baekhyun responds for her and she blinks, rapidly, when Baekhyun’s elbow brushes against hers, an almost comforting gesture she thinks. Another pause before, “But, do you?”

(She’s thinking the same thing, her eyes focused on Chanyeol and only Chanyeol.)

Chanyeol runs a hand through his hair and it sticks up all over the place. Chanyeol looks so uncharacteristically tired and it makes her want to throw her arms around him. Somehow, he's always triggered her protective instincts, despite being a million feet taller than her and probably capable of intimidating people much more than she can, at least until he speaks.

(He’s always been so soft, despite his height and his voice and his demeanor. He’d always try to bring random animals home and complain about how he was yelled at for it. She remembers when she found him sitting on a park bench with glassy tears filling his big eyes, when she asked what was wrong and he told her how he had come out to his parents, how they told him to leave, how he sounded, looked, when he told her that his father couldn't even look at him, how shocked she was because she’s seen the way his parents treat him, how much they adore him, how much love he was given, and it broke her heart, seeing him curl into himself, his bony knees pressed to his chest. He looked like a kicked puppy and, back then, she was never quite the affectionate type, but she remembers how she threw her arms around him—a ridiculous notion, in retrospect, because even back then he was so damn large, all legs and arms, and she was so small in comparison. It's like trying to hug a hundred year old tree or a less hostile, less hairy Big Foot.

But she remembers throwing her arms around him, practically hugging his head, and him laughing at the awkwardness in her gestures, in her size compared to him, a choked little thing bubbling up from his chest, as he sniffled softly and snuggled up against her despite it all, letting her shush him and tell him they’ll come around—which they eventually did after Chanyeol lived on the Do’s couch for weeks and Chanyeol’s family started to miss him more than anything else, Yoona managing to knock some damn sense into their father, most of all. She remembers thinking how surprised she was to find out that their love for Chanyeol was so unconditional, that it prevailed over everything else in the end. She didn’t understand it, sometimes she still can’t understand it—at those times she struggles to remind herself that she’s wrong, that her childhood, the conditional, dangled-over-her-head, manipulative love she was fed was never normal. It isn’t something she should consider the baseline. She needs to remind herself of this daily.

She remembers when Chanyeol first saw one of her bruises and he looked so so sad, like he’d start crying if not with her then for her, as he gently brushed the back of his knuckles over it, eyes glistening at the slight flinch she couldn’t completely suppress. She thinks that describes Park Chanyeol to a tee, a gentle giant who wears his heart on his sleeves, feels for them even when they don’t want to—can’t—feel for themselves. Especially then.)

“I think—I think it has to do with Irene.” Chanyeol breathes out.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket.

Jongdae is the first to fish out his phone from his pockets and she vaguely remembers their abandoned group chat, abandoned since the announcement at the six-week mark, when they all started having their conversations in person rather than over text because suddenly every little conversation became important enough to warrant a video call or a phone call or a moment face-to-face. She figures that’s what happens when one finds out that the world is ending very, very soon and everything feels rushed, too short, like when she finds the perfect television show and she's one episode away from finishing it forever.

Where Are y ou

“Why is he typing like that?” Kyungri whispers, her eyes on her own phone.

From: Baek

the diner 2 blocks down, are u ok???

From: Jun

no

(The slippery slope gets steeper, more dangerous.)

~.~.~.~.~

Fifteen minutes later, an engine revs and Yeeun is confused when a car rolls up in front of them, headlights blinding. Jongdae has a hand on her elbow, angling himself in front of her and she thinks it’s cute, almost, even though she thinks she’s more capable of beating up whoever’s in that car than Jongdae is.

She tenses, especially when Baekhyun steps forward, in front of the rest of them, covering his eyes so he can see into the car. She reaches for him, grabs the back of his shirt, and he glances back, lips tilting into a reassuring smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The door opens, and she feels her heart lodge in because all she can sense is danger danger danger, until—

“Junmyeon.” Kyungri breathes out in relief, practically catapulting herself into his limp arms, Chanyeol joining her shortly after as he wraps himself around Junmyeon, who looks flustered and fond.

(She notices his bloodshot eyes, however, can’t stop noticing it.)

“You guys want some food?” Junmyeon asks, after a beat of silence.

~.~.~.~.~

The waitress smiles tiredly at them, barely greeting them when they walk in, and Yeeun’s almost relieved to see a handful of people at the booths, speaking in soft voices while they eat their food. It’s surreal, to see actual people, especially since the only people they’ve seen so far were those officers and Lu Han. It’s clear the waitress is overworked, seeing as the diner looks short-staffed tonight, so Yeeun doesn’t mind the hurried way the waitress seats them. The waitress just yawns, eyes a little blank, as she shows them to a table and hands them menus. Yeeun’s not hungry and apparently neither is anyone else, except for Kyungri, who orders a basket of fries.

After the waitress walks away, silence settles over them, at least until Yeeun snaps, “Dude, what the ?”

“Yeeun—”

“Don’t Yeeun me. You said you’ve never been here before, yet you knew exactly where you needed to go? And then you just—why did you go there? Whose car was that? And your text? What kind of ominous was that, what the , Junmyeon? What the hell is going on?” Yeeun’s chest heaves after her rant as she glares at Junmyeon, watching as he cringes into his seat.

Junmyeon glances around at the others, eyes pleading. Jongdae snorts, “Don’t look at us for help. She’s right. You have a lot explaining to do.”

“It’s complicated.” Junmyeon mutters.

Chanyeol raises a brow, eyes Junmyeon with an uncharacteristically serious look, “The world’s about to end. We can handle complicated.”

Kyungsoo frowns when Junmyeon stares at his hands, expression clearly anxious, “Start from the beginning, then.”

Junmyeon opens and closes his mouth three times before he settles on, “She’s dead.”

Yeeun blinks, everyone pauses.

Yeeun starts, “Who—”

Junmyeon cuts Yeeun off, “Irene.” He shakes his head rapidly, keeps talking even while they all freeze. Yeeun can’t even attempt to process that information. She tries to imagine Bae Irene, sweet and so so beautiful, with a penchant for doing everybody’s laundry because she thinks—thought—it was fun, how Yeeun bought her laundry detergent for her birthday as a joke and Irene genuinely loved it, how she genuinely loved everything and everyone, almost to a fault, how she'd be terrified of the New Year's fireworks, how—oh god.

Junmyeon’s fingers curl into fists on the table as he stares at nothing. He talks and talks and she thinks he sounds mechanical almost, numb. “I went to see her parents because that was her last request. And—and I found them in her room. They hung themselves. I don’t—I saw it, the rope, the—their bodies—and the room smelled so bad, I couldn’t breathe. I just, I was in their living room after that and I remember trying so hard not to puke. I stood there, in their empty house, surrounded by so many ing pictures. Graduation, beach trips, the last time they visited Seoul and I took them to Namsan Tower, everything. ing everything. She was everywhere, all over the room, everywhere I looked, and, god, god, god, it was— She—she looked so happy, you know? I couldn’t—I took the keys and I just drove. I couldn’t stand being there anymore. I drove and drove and—”

Junmyeon chokes on a sob, a heaving, broken sound that makes Kyungsoo wrap an arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders, a comforting, soft gesture that Junmyeon leans into immediately.

“How?” Baekhyun is the one to whisper it, soft, full of disbelief, the most stricken she’s seen him yet during this whole end of the world bull. “Junmyeon, how?”

(Yeeun can’t even ask questions, she’s just staring at Junmyeon, stricken.)

Junmyeon closes his eyes, “It was the quarantine. She got sick a couple days ago. All I got was a phone call. They didn’t even let me see her.”

He deflates in his seat and Kyungsoo’s arm tightens around his shoulder, acting like an anchor. Jongdae reaches out and gently, carefully, pats Junmyeon’s fists on the table.

“But you said she was fine. You told me she was just working late nights because of the quarantine?” Chanyeol looks so, so close to tears and Yeeun thinks she sees guilt there, hidden in his big eyes.

“I lied.” Junmyeon mumbles. Jongdae’s grip on his hand tightens.

“D—did you know about this?” Kyungri is the one to turn to Chanyeol, her eyes wide. Then she looks at Junmyeon. “And I thought the quarantine wasn’t—”

“I…” Chanyeol looks guilty, she thinks, and she can’t take her eyes off him, “Yoona told me how she had an assignment at the hospital. She was covering the story about the quarantine and the sickness. She told me she interviewed Irene and Yoona seemed worried about her being there. So I...I asked Junmyeon about her.”

“They never aired anything like that, though. We watch all your sister’s reports.” Kyungsoo whispers. He scoots his chair back a little, so he can look at Chanyeol fully and completely, his eyes wide the same way Kyungri’s are.

“Irene told me they cut it. She thinks the current administration didn’t want to start a national panic.” Junmyeon says, sniffling softly. He doesn’t allow them the chance to unleash the whys at the tips of their tongues. “They didn’t want everyone to know that the quarantine isn’t working. That they can’t contain the sickness and it’s spreading. Quickly.”

“Then what’s the point of the hospital quarantine if it’s going to spread anyway? You said she called you a couple days ago. She isn’t dead. She can't be, that's not possible.” Kyungsoo murmurs this softly, as if he’s singing a lullaby of hopes and dreams, all that seem to leave Junmyeon strung up, his expression twisting with remorse.

Junmyeon shakes his head, “Irene said the sickness is far worse than death. Worse even than the solar flares. She said—” He takes a deep, deep breath, “She said it’s out of control because of increased radiation levels from the sun and in a couple days—so now—they’re just going to lock the doors. They’re going to throw the sick they've already rounded up in there, with food and water and the nurses and doctors already infected to clear their consciences of course, and just let it play out. That’s all they can do now.”

“Junmyeon,” Baekhyun’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle, understanding, so soft that it leaves chills up and down her spine, “It’s possible she’s still alive. You can still—”

“I can’t. Don’t you get it? Don’t you think I went through every single option with her?” Junmyeon’s voice is loud for just a moment, echoing all around them in the semi-empty diner, attracting the attention of the waitress listlessly standing at the host stand and the few patrons picking at their food at the other booths. Then it drops to a low, low whisper, voice thick with emotion. “But she—she said she couldn’t leave. I was ready, so damn ready to get her out of there. Somehow, someway, I was going to find a way to get her out. Or at least, get in. But she knew that. She ing knew so she asked for a favor, knew I couldn’t refuse her that. We were supposed to come to Busan together anyway. Back when I first asked for this road trip I was planning on...we were going to stay down here with her parents and she was—she was supposed to come."

(Yeeun feels that same jagged twinge of loneliness from before, because one by one they were all going to leave her in that empty apartment in Seoul. There's no bitterness to that revelation, because she knows she could tag along if she asked, but she's never wanted to be a burden and what should have been bitterness is just, a momentary flash of loneliness that completely disappears as Junmyeon continues speaking.)

"But then the quarantine happened and—and she knew I'd do something stupid, I think, so she asked me to bring her parents to Seoul, so they’d have company, in the end.  She said...she called it her last request. But then. I guess she told her parents she was going to die, too, after she talked to me and they couldn’t take it. I can't imagine what....that’s why they—they’re dead, too. She said—she said she’d rather die in that hospital looking for a cure, helping the sick as best as she could, than by the sun in less than five weeks. She said she’d rather stay and help them.”

“What’s it like, Junmyeon? The sickness?” Jongdae whispers and she can see the deep, deep emotion in his eyes, reminiscent of when he told her he wanted to die. It’s deep sadness and fear, numbness. It scares her, how serious his eyes are.

It scares her, the way Junmyeon looks Jongdae right in the eyes and says, “She said it’s undetectable, at first, until they start bleeding at the eyes. Then it’s best to tie them up.”

There’s a pause before Chanyeol whispers, “Or kill them.”

~.~.~.~.~

Junmyeon drives. Yeeun decides to take shotgun and Baekhyun pauses at the passenger side door, his eyes on her for a long, long moment. The bright moonlight washes over him, white light illuminating his skin tone, kissed by the sun thanks to how damn hot it’s been. His dark eyes shine as he looks her up and down for a second, lingering here and there, making her cheeks warm up because she thinks she wasn’t supposed to notice the gesture. Then they settle on locking gazes with her. It’s strangely cold outside, at least colder than the nights usually are now.

“I won shotgun.” Baekhyun points out, though he sounds more amused than annoyed, voice low, soft, more than anything else.

“Yeah, by jumping through an open window.” Yeeun reminds him, raising a brow, as if to invite him to challenge her words.

He raises a brow and the movement is so utterly petulant, yet so smooth. It’s like he’s taking her challenge and throwing it back in her face tenfold. A great way to describe Baekhyun, she thinks. “Yeah, so what? I won it fair and square.” Baekhyun tells her, grinning, his eyes turning up into crescent moons.

There’s a snort from behind him, “Fair and square, my .”

Yeeun looks over his shoulder. Baekhyun doesn’t even turn around, “ you, Jongdae.”

“You wish.” Jongdae responds, coming up to grin sideways at Baekhyun, who smiles back, despite himself.

Baekhyun blinks, “I mean…yeah. Is that not a given?”

Jongdae laughs, loud, obnoxious, booming, bouncing through the quiet, empty night. Jongdae locks eyes with her, right then, as she looks between them, fondness pulling at her lips.

Jongdae opens the sliding door, still smiling that curly, mischievous smile, and when she looks away, meeting Baekhyun’s dark eyes, her stomach churns at the level of intensity in them.

Her inability to look away makes the moment drag on and on, until there’s a voice from inside the car, a deep, rumbling voice, “If you’re cold you can wear my sweatshirt.”

“I can’t do that. You’ll get cold, too.” Kyungsoo makes a face, “And then you’ll try to cuddle me. Have you ever cuddled a six-foot man who is eighty-six percent arms and legs, Chanyeol? It’s not an experience I’d recommend.”

“What’s the other fourteen percent?” Jongdae asks, raising a brow.

At the same time as Jongdae, Kyungri snorts from the back seat, “You told me you loved cuddling—”

“Shut up.” Kyungsoo throws what Yeeun thinks is rolled up socks at Kyungri, who shrieks, glaring at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo glances at Jongdae, “The other fourteen percent is his ears.”

Jongdae’s brow rises higher, “Is that a codeword for his ?”

Kyungsoo throws another pair of balled-up socks at Jongdae’s face, “Stop hanging around Baek so much. You talk like him now.”

“You’re welcome!” Baekhyun says, proudly. Jongdae shoves said balled-up pair of socks into Baekhyun’s face, making him screech. Yeeun just watches, amused.

Meanwhile Chanyeol is attempting to yank his sweatshirt off, which is a process all on its own because Chanyeol gets tangled in his sweatshirt and ends up whispering help—Baekhyun obliges grudgingly after throwing the socks back at Jongdae a good five times, the two of them going back and forth until Chanyeol squeaks again, prompting Baekhyun to yank the sweater off Chanyeol’s limbs, not bothering to be nice about it, while muttering the whole time. It takes a good three minutes that’s just filled with purposefully awkward, drawn out silence from everyone else in the car while they watch him struggle and Baekhyun try to save him from embarrassment. Yeeun giggles when Chanyeol finally frees himself from his sweatshirt, his hair sticking out in every direction, his eyes wide, his grin manic, his cheeks red from embarrassment, before he tosses his sweatshirt at Kyungsoo’s face, who splutters, caught off guard by the sweatshirt being thrown at him.

“I don’t want you to get cold.” Chanyeol says and it’s so sincere and genuine that there are small red spots forming at the tops of Kyungsoo’s cheekbones, his eyes landing on everything but Chanyeol for a moment. Yeeun exchanges a look, mouth wide open, with Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Kyungri, who all share her look of surprise. Baekhyun has the beginnings of a smug smile on his face and Jongdae looks like a proud mother hen. None of them say anything though because they don’t want death. Not yet, at least. Instead Yeeun digs for her Polaroid camera, fumbling with it before she snaps a quick picture, the flash blinding and the snapping sound loud.

“Yeeun, what the hell.” Kyungsoo positively glowers at Yeeun, who giggles, shaking out the Polaroid as she waits for it to develop. Kyungsoo tries to climb over Chanyeol to get at her, but she backs away from the car door, shrieking as she hurls herself into the front seat instead, leaning away from Kyungsoo, pressed against the door when he veers towards her and reaches for her and the Polaroid through the gap between the two front seats.

(She hears Baekhyun say, “Aw, I’m cold, too. Jongdae, give me your sweatshirt.”

“Aw, that's too bad, Baek.” Jongdae responds, “Get your own damn sweatshirt.”

She’s annoyed that they don’t try to stop Kyungsoo from making grabby hands at her and the Polaroid she just took--a Polaroid that came out nicely actually, the red coloring Kyungsoo’s cheeks visible thanks to the flash, his smile soft and eyes softer.)

Junmyeon smiles, a feathery fond little thing, and Yeeun glances sideways at him, the same way Kyungsoo and Chanyeol and Kyungri and Jongdae and Baekhyun do, all their barely-hidden relieved smiles matching.

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun reaches over and presses a hesitant hand to Junmyeon’s elbow.

“You okay?” She murmurs it, so soft she’s sure no one else can hear her, especially because Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are talking about something Kyungri’s showing them on her phone. Jongdae inserts comments occasionally, all while Baekhyun sits back in the middle seat (he had pouted about being in the middle seat from the minute he sat down) and scrolls through his phone. She can see the methodical swiping motion of his thumb and figures he’s on Tinder. She vaguely wonders how he could be using Tinder at a time like this, when the end of the world is happening, through either solar flares or radiation sickness, but maybe he and plenty of other strangers decided they might as well go out with a bang, literally, end of the world or not. She has firsthand knowledge on how differently people cope.

It takes her a moment to realize that that was a dumb question. She blinks at Junmyeon, frowning to herself. “I mean, clearly you’re not. Fine, I mean. But. I’m. . Sorry, Jun.”

“It’s fine. I’m—it’s fine.” Junmyeon murmurs. He doesn’t say I’m fine and she thinks that’s a good step in the right direction. They’ve come a long way since when they first met. He’d say I’m fine even though she could tell, through his hunched shoulders and despondent eyes that he was absolutely not fine. Hell, he'd say he's fine even if he was laying there with a broken leg, though Yeeun figures she'd do the same, too. They're not too different, Junmyeon and her.

Yeeun has always been bad at comfort through words, though. Perhaps it’s a product of her childhood. She’s never known comfort, just an angry why the hell are you crying flung at her every other day and plenty of flippant shut the ups. She’s only ever known to be silent, known words of violence, and her best friends are way better at the whole comforting thing then she ever was or will be. Jongdae knows how to wrap his arms around someone and gently ask them what’s happened, listen and give gentle support. Kyungsoo, though silent in his own way, comforts through food and favors. Kyungri is all touches and hugs and a bottle of wine and Netflix. Chanyeol is the best at it, he’s doting, careful, knows just the right things to say to make one laugh. Junmyeon’s a mix of everything, good at straightening out fights before they escalate into something else entirely. Baekhyun is a little like her, but he’s noticed that he’s in tune with their emotions more than he ever lets on. He knows how to lessen the pain, in little ways, personalized to each of them.

She wishes, right then and there, that she could be good at this comforting thing. She’s frustrated, hates what her parents have done to her more than she usually does, because she doesn’t even know how to comfort her best friend when he needs it and it makes her feels so ing useless, so desperate.

Junmyeon glances sideways at her, eyes flickering over her face, no doubt seeing the frustration, and then he blows out a huff of air. His expression steels. She cringes because it’s because of her, no doubt.

Junmyeon’s voice is louder, carrying to the back of the stuffy old van. “What do you guys say to beer and a bonfire?”

There’s a pause. Yeeun can see the knot between his brows, the stiffness to his jaw. There’s a long bout of silence until Kyungri says, very carefully, “Only if we make those marshmallow things those American students showed us once.”

Chanyeol's head pops up like a mole coming out of its hole, "S'mores?" He squeaks, grinning. Kyungri nods, excitedly.

Junmyeon grins, all teeth. “Done and done.”

Yeeun lets her hand fall from his elbow.

~.~.~.~.~

They park the car right on the beach. There’s no one to tell them it’s illegal. She even spots a few people walking the beach, so far away that she briefly wonders if they’re just fever dreams. Maybe even ghosts, illuminated by too bright moonlight and weak waves gently lapping at the coast. Yeeun isn’t even surprised when Junmyeon and Chanyeol pull out tents from the van’s trunk. She remembers one of them mentioning something about beach camping before the trip, she just can’t seem to remember the conversation now.

She is surprised to see Jongdae return to their campsite with more than enough bags of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers piled high in his arms. She blinks at him, “How’d you get so many?”

Jongdae wrinkles his nose and responds, “The store clerk said I could take them. He said something about slow business but there was a lot of sighing involved. I dunno.”

She snorts and Jongdae unceremoniously drops half the pile into her limp arms. She scrambles to catch them before they spill out of her hands. She glares at Jongdae and he takes a moment to give her a dazzling grin, reaching out to gently pat her cheek, before he turns around and helps a struggling Junmyeon, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol with the single, large tent. Chanyeol’s staring at the tent manual instructions like it’s an exam he hasn’t studied for.

Baekhyun has two of the rods over his head, the tent billowing in the sea breeze around him, and he pouts, confused. He says, “Chanyeol, you’re supposed to be good at this. You’re an engineer.”

“I work with computers and control systems, Baekhyun. Not tents.” Chanyeol responds.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, "Same thing."

Junmyeon just sips at a beer and watches Chanyeol and Baekhyun bicker like idiots, a small smile on his face. Jongdae joins the mess and, at first, she thinks he's got the tent making down, directing Chanyeol and Baekhyun with ease, clearly determined. She snaps a Polaroid or four of the process, of Baekhyun throwing studs at Jongdae, of Jongdae peering at Rods A and B intently for a good five minutes, of Chanyeol turning the instructions in circles as if the answers to their problems will appear if the instructions are upside down, of Junmyeon drinking beer and setting up dry pieces of driftwood for the fire, of Kyungri trying to start a fire and failing, bent over with her face practically buried in the pile of sticks before them. She takes a picture of Kyungsoo chucking a lighter at Kyungri’s head, Kyungri shouting at him for withholding the lighter and making her look like an absolute . Yeeun just opens the bag of marshmallows and chews on one while snapping random Polaroids, of the beach illuminated by white silver moonlight, of Junmyeon’s beautiful smile, of Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Jongdae cheering when the tent is finished, of Jongdae crawling into the finished tent and then the tent collapsing on him the minute Chanyeol zips the tent up, making Jongdae scream and thrash and everyone else fall over themselves with laughter.

(Eventually Kyungsoo mutters, you all , and then snatches the instructions out of Chanyeol’s hands. Chanyeol watches, in awe, as Kyungsoo constructs the tent in less than ten minutes without breaking a sweat. It doesn't even fall apart when Jongdae gingerly crawls into it for a second time. Jongdae sticks half his body out of the open flap and wiggles excitedly, grinning beautifully. 

“I love you.” Chanyeol says, still awfully awestricken.

Kyungsoo blushes, right up to his ears and down his neck. Yeeun, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Kyungri snicker loudly. Kyungsoo makes a rude hand gesture in their direction without looking away from Chanyeol. Instead of saying anything to them, Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol, in an uncharacteristically uncertain tone, “Yeah?”

Chanyeol nods franticly, “Hell, yeah.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes form hearts that match his heart shaped lips. She snorts at the sight in amusement, so loudly that it echoes in the silence that stretches on and on. Kyungsoo snatches the bag of marshmallows out of her hand and passes it to Chanyeol, heart-shaped smile on full display while Yeeun whines, hey!!!!

Kyungsoo ignores her whines, instead leaning back over to her just to place a single marshmallow in her open mouth halfway through her protests before focusing all his attention on Chanyeol again. She wants to be mad, but she can’t when there’s a giant fluffy marshmallow in . She still scowls and Kyungri is giggling at her, obviously tipsy. For a moment, she locks eyes with Jongdae and he’s smiling, a gentle soft thing that reminds her of feathery pillows and cuddly throw blankets in the dead of winter. His eyes are filled with so much fondness that she finds she can’t look him in the eye without reddening substantially. So, she quickly turns away, grabbing a beer, and someone takes a seat beside her, thigh pressing against hers. Her eyes linger on the warm skin peeking through his signature ripped-at-the-knee black jeans before she grabs another beer and hands it to Baekhyun without waiting for him to ask.

“Thanks.” He says, anyways, their fingertips brushing. Yeeun blushes inexplicably.

~.~.~.~.~

They drink a lot. To the point where she starts to think that maybe the too bright moon illuminating the ocean is somehow ethereal instead of a terrifying sign of the end of times. Kyungri’s curled up in her sleeping bag on the sand and Yeeun thinks that’s a bad idea because Kyungri’s going to find sand in weird places for the rest of her remaining days on this planet but she doesn’t say anything because Kyungri looks terribly comfortable, her cheeks red, smile permanently plastered across her face, as she listens intently to Chanyeol’s story about that time he met 2NE1 backstage—an ever-evolving story all of them already heard fifty times before.

(Kyungsoo always glares at them whenever they even begin to have the mere thought of telling Chanyeol that he’s already told them this story, scaring them into indulging Chanyeol.)

She sits beside the fire, too tired to make any more s’mores, and stares at the bonfire, at the fire at the dark sky, obscuring Junmyeon’s face from view across the campfire. Her face is hot, though Yeeun thinks it’s from the amount of beer she’s drank. She presses her cheek against Baekhyun’s warm chest, snuggling further into him because he’s so utterly warm and comfortable, curling up under his arm sleepily, her knees scorching hot from the bonfire. Yeeun doesn’t expect much of a reaction out of Baekhyun, since all night he’s either been focused on his phone or stealing toasty marshmallows from Yeeun or Jongdae’s sticks since he keeps burning his to a crisp. But Baekhyun nuzzles the top of her head, surprisingly cold cheek pressed against the top of her head, and she sighs in content. She sees his phone light up on his knee, Sehun sent a message, it says, the Tinder message lighting up the whole screen.

She blinks up at Baekhyun, hazily, opening to ask who Sehun is and if she can see a picture because she loves that part of his Tinder habits. But then she gets lost in the curve of his face, in the way he glances down at his phone, before flipping it over, though there's a soft curve of a smile there, thoughtful and almost happy. She gets lost in that wisp of a smile, thinks about it for ages after, just like she is with every other wispy smile she’s witnessed since she started to really notice them. Her eyes drift past his smile for a moment, like when someone’s looking at the sun for too long and they must look away, and her hazy gaze lands on Jongdae, sweet, tender Jongdae and his tousled hair, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. It takes her a long moment to notice that his pretty curly lips are set into a thin line and his eyes are dark, almost anxious, while he eyes her.

She decides she doesn’t like that kind of look on Jongdae. It doesn’t suit him. She lifts her hand, then, beckoning Jongdae to join her—them, her too far gone brain whispers. Her heart swells when she realizes Baekhyun is doing the same, eyes twinkling in the bonfire light as he beckons Jongdae towards him—them—pretty fingers curling. Jongdae blinks and she thinks Jongdae might be drunker than Yeeun originally thought. She lifts her head off Baekhyun’s shoulder for a moment, cheeks still so so warm, and she murmurs, “Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s resolve seems to shatter immediately. His gaze on her softens substantially. He sways to his feet, rounds the fire while Junmyeon and Kyungsoo are deep in conversation.

Jongdae walks over, his steps hesitant, unsteady, and Yeeun leans forward, over Baekhyun’s lap, to grab at Jongdae’s warm hand, curling her fingers through the gaps between his. One of Baekhyun’s hands rest on Yeeun’s back while the other one reaches out, too, and he unceremoniously yanks Jongdae down by the front of his shirt, making Jongdae scramble, grinning despite himself and his worried eyes. Jongdae falls on top of them, scrambling as he grasps at a handful of sand and Baekhyun’s knee, his head knocking against Yeeun’s chin, making her whine in protest. Yeeun still keeps her hand intertwined with his while Jongdae reaches out and gently pats her chin, murmuring sorry, baby.

Her cheeks warm, for reasons other than the beer or the bonfire. She nods in reassurance and watches Jongdae readjust himself, watches as Jongdae rests his chin on her knee, his chest across Baekhyun’s thighs, his legs splayed out, and his fingers still intertwined through hers. She smiles, watching as he curls a little, his back pressing against Baekhyun’s stomach, reminding her of a tiny kitten. Apparently, Baekhyun thinks the same thing because his pretty fingers are in Jongdae's hair, gently . Jongdae's tense shoulders begin to relax and he closes his eyes, his cheek pressed to her lap instead. Her smile only widens and she feels content, despite the mess of a world they're currently living in.

They lay like that for a long, long time and Yeeun wants to revel in the moment forever, wishes she could just stay here like this for the rest of her life. It feels like forever, Baekhyun occasionally sipping on beer, gently massaging Yeeun and Jongdae’s temples in between sips, smile tender as he sees their eyes flutter sleepily. Yeeun tries to fight it off, but it begins to seep into her bones. She yawns.

Time crawls by and the serenity is incredible. For once, she is totally content, despite everything.

At least until someone starts screaming.

Yeeun jolts upright, hand tightening around Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s fingers at her back stilling. Yeeun’s vision swims from the alcohol, her body hot, and she hates the sound of the screaming that seems to echo throughout the too bright beach. Kyungri sits up on her knees, glancing around, her face red. Junmyeon blinks, sluggishly. Kyungsoo holds Chanyeol’s hands in his.

The screaming continues and Yeeun’s drunken brain can make out anguish in the screams, the utter pain. She can make out words, barely there, words that sound so utterly painful that Yeeun feels her heart splitting in two. She whimpers at the sounds of the scream because it reminds her of pain and broken hearts and—and death.

The screams break off into sobs and she still can’t figure out where exactly it’s coming from.

There are other figures on the beach, far far away from them, and they all stand still, peering out int he direction of the anguished sounds, as if it's a sort of bell, a calling for everyone to stop and listen, to feel the pain exactly as this person, thing, concept, feels.

The sobbing reminds her of the times she’d heave for air, stuffing her fists in when the sobs would wrack her tiny body, just so her parents wouldn’t be able to hear her and get even angrier than they already were. The sobbing reminds her of Baekhyun’s dry heaves when he used to get drunk and chant sorry like a newly remembered prayer, interspersed by choked sobs. It reminds her of Jongdae whimpering the medicine’s not working, it’s not working, voice unsteady, and she’d whisper it’s okay it’s okay we can keep trying, we can keep trying. It reminds Yeeun of Kyungsoo with a split lip and bruised knuckles promising the other person had it worst and Chanyeol holding back tears because despite the set jaw, Kyungsoo's fists are trembling and Chanyeol's arm doesn't angles out all wrong, of Kyungri curled into a teeny tiny ball against the far wall in the dead of night and Yeeun whispering that it’s just a nightmare, it isn’t real, of Junmyeon trying to tear his hair out with dark dark circles under his eyes and a small, whimpered help. It reminds her of her worst nights and most horrid days. It reminds her of pain.

And then it stops. It gets cut off and the silence claiming the space afterwards is so loud, Yeeun’s head begins to pound.

Suddenly, she isn’t so sleepy anymore.

She’s pushes herself to sit upright, shoulders tense. Baekhyun’s gently her spine, perhaps to calm her down. Jongdae’s gripping her hand as he sits up on Baekhyun’s other side. She notices Baekhyun look down at his lap, at both their entwined hands on his lap, one of his own hands digging into the sand behind him. His fingers are all splayed out before, but now they're curling into fists. She pretends not to notice, or maybe she doesn't have the mental capacity to comprehend what she's noticed, instead choosing to focus on his face. He looks so, so tired and she leans further against him, trying in vain to take the exhaustion away, somehow, someway.

Kyungri’s voice is a quiet sound but it still sounds so loud against the current backdrop of silence they’re wrapped up in. She has her knees pressed to her chest, the sleeping bag pulled up to her chin.

“I don’t—I don’t want to die.” Kyungri’s words slur together and somehow it adds to the strained atmosphere, the deep silence and dread and creeping horror, brought about by the screams and sobbing, heightened by the alcohol in their systems, and made significantly worse by the listless figures in the distance walking about, steps too languid, floating along the coast in the distance as if the screams and sobbing never happened in the first place, a lost memory of the collective mind already.

“No one does.” This time it’s Chanyeol, his big eyes filled with sadness.

Yeeun feels Jongdae’s fingers tense in her hand. She looks over—she notices Baekhyun’s hand still against Jongdae’s knee, as well, notices the way Baekhyun peers over at Jongdae at the same time she does, expression pinching a bit—and Jongdae’s jawline is intensified by the way his teeth are clenched.

(She finds hazy, drunken, alluring thoughts needling into her brain. She finds she wants to press her lips to the sharp edges of his jaw, press and press until they soften beneath her touch, disappear, melt away.)

Chanyeol blinks, slowly, until he seems to process exactly what he’s said, what his words could mean, and then he looks horrified with himself. He whispers, “Sorry, Jongdae. I di—”

Jongdae just shakes his head, the movement stiff, as he cuts over Chanyeol’s apology, “No. You’re right. No one really wants to die. Maybe—maybe the concept, the idea of nothingness forever is tempting. But when you’re actually faced with it—it’s different then.”

“You don’t want to die?” Baekhyun asks. His tone is purely curious, any sort of malice, mocking, or ill will one would expect in a question like that, at a time like this, completely void. Baekhyun’s pretty fingers shapes against Jongdae’s knee and Jongdae stops shaking his head in that anxious way of his, his gaze flickering downwards one too many times, before settling on the bonfire before them.

Jongdae looks sad when he murmurs, “I never said I didn’t. But I never said I do, either.”

Yeeun’s fingers tighten around his hand, “Jongdae.”

Jongdae sighs, “It’s just—I’ve always dreamt of dying in my sleep. Or—or a quick accident. Alone. Not like—”

Jongdae breathes, the gasp for air so ragged it reminds her of a drowning man coming up for air.

She says, “Not like this? Not because of a solar flare or...or whatever epidemic is out there?”

Not slowly? She doesn’t say that aloud but it’s there.

“No, that's not it.” Jongdae shakes his head, eyes blank, “I just...I’ve never pictured you guys there—here with me. I—I just don’t want you guys to die, too.”

(Dreamt, he had said before. It echoes in her head. Her heart heaves at the thought of Jongdae dreaming of death, of them removed from his death, unaffected, happy without him somehow. She knows it's confusing for him, but she wonders if he genuinely thinks they would be fine, okay, without him. It causes her heart to ache, her chest heavy.)

Kyungsoo scowls from across the bonfire. He grits out, “Do you ing think—” Kyungsoo stops himself, cuts himself off, carefully checking his own words with a sort of precision that tells anyone who bothers to notice that Kyungsoo does this a lot. He reels himself in easily. However, there is fire in his eyes, reminding Yeeun of a man who is frustrated beyond belief, perhaps from repeating himself repeatedly, like a mantra, a prayer, to someone who cannot hear him—not because he is unwilling per se, but because Kyungsoo’s words, no matter how adamant, still end up getting lost in within the depths of every other thought of his, muddled and sinking, sinking, sinking, until it disappears completely beneath everything else. Jongdae knows, she reminds herself, but it's hard for him to remember. “Jongdae,” Kyungsoo breathes out, reminds him, “I—we—don’t want you to die, either. We—I can’t—”

Kyungsoo cuts himself off abruptly and doesn’t continue. Chanyeol murmurs something Yeeun can’t hear, but Kyungsoo remains silent, looks so so tired, so so sad.

“I know.” Jongdae mutters, his words slurred. "It's just...even though I know, sometimes it doesn't feel real."

“We love you.” This time Junmyeon says it, stern and gentle and so, so firm. “We love you so, so much, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s voice is so tiny that she lifts their intertwined hands and presses the back of his hand to her warm cheek, squeezing tightly. His grip tightens as if she is the only lifeline he has left. “I know.” He murmurs.

“C’mere.” Baekhyun breaks the tense silence before it can get too long, wrapping both arms around Jongdae and clinging to him so tightly, so completely, that it brings a surprise gasp-slash-giggle out of Jongdae. He sways as he reaches up to grip Jongdae’s cheek and gives him a giant, dramatic smooch on the cheek that has Jongdae laughing softly, a little brokenly.

Kyungsoo smiles, though the fire in his eyes still dances. Kyungri coos affectionately, clapping her hands. Yeeun reaches forward and wipes at the barely there tears at the corner of his eyes with their intertwined hands. Chanyeol grins so so wide and Junmyeon just smiles, but it’s gentle and loving, fond.

~.~.~.~.~

They all huddle into the giant tent on the beach, leaving it ped because it’s a warm night and it’ll only get hotter in the morning, especially on an open beach under the sun. She stands outside of the tent, dousing the bonfire with sand and she can hear Jongdae loudly telling (whining at) Chanyeol and Kyungsoo that they are sleeping on opposite ends of the tent tonight.

(“I am not waking up again to you two halfway to funky town two feet from my face!”

Yeeun snorts to herself and she hears Baekhyun say what she was thinking, “Funky town?”

“ing.” Jongdae clarifies blandly.

Yeeun wonders when that had happened.

“We were not!!” Chanyeol shouts, no doubt reddening right up to his ears. She can imagine the massive grin on his face, though, because Park Chanyeol is as shameless as he is shy, and his expression is no doubt telling them the opposite of his words.

“Ewww.” Kyungri inserts, unhelpfully.

Baekhyun cackles in response.

She can hear Kyungsoo speaking in a dark, dark tone, despite how not dark his words are, “If I don’t get to cuddle my boyfriend while tipsy slash drunk tonight, I swear to God I will crawl over each and every one of you and hi—”

“EWWWW, GOD, EW!” Kyungri shrieks it this time and Yeeun hears a smack and Kyungsoo's drawn out ow.

Chanyeol’s voice is strange, “Did you say…boyfriend?”

"Uh," She can imagine Kyungsoo blinking owlishly, stuttering slightly, “I mean, yeah. Yes. I guess. But—but only if you want?”

“Oh, my God.” Chanyeol says, “Hell, ing, yeah, I want.”

Baekhyun groans after a brief silence and scuffling and shuffling within the tent, “Disgusting. Go sleep outside, you nasty lovebird—oh, my God, no.”

Kyungri shrieks.

Jongdae sounds aghast with horror, whining out, “Really? You’re really doing this now? Right in front of my salad?”

There’s more shrieking, interwoven with cackling, and Kyungsoo’s distinctly low voice saying many times, repeatedly, “I hate you guys so much.”

Yeeun sees the edges of the tent sway and get pushed at.

Chanyeol cries out, “This is homophobic!! Why can’t I kiss my boyfriend—” Yeeun rolls her eyes when Chanyeol takes a moment to pause and giggle like a schoolkid with a crush, “My ing boyfriend, Do Kyungsoo, in peace?!”

Yeeun imagines Kyungsoo flushing red at Chanyeol's embarrassing but adorable enthusiasm.

“Because the rest of us are still single.” Kyungri’s voice rings out. She sounds completely annoyed about it.

“And besides,” Baekhyun adds, “I’m way too tired and drunk for an right now.”

Jongdae’s laughter is so loud, so encompassing, that she ends up smiling at the smoldering bonfire doused in sand. When the embers flicker out, Yeeun decides against going into the tent. She doesn’t want to know what kind of mess the inside of it is right now.)

Instead, she edges away from the tent, pausing in her strange tendency to clean up when intoxicated to blink at Junmyeon. He’s sitting at the very edge of the beach, right where dry sand meets wet sand and rolling waves, his knees pulled up to his chest as he looks out at the ocean, the bright white moonlight making him look like a mirage, a pretty picture set against dark waves and silver-white moonlight situated at the edge of the world.

The fighting and laughter from the tent fades away the closer she gets to the ocean, the sound of waves rolling onto the shore filling the resulting silence. The sound is almost peaceful and certainly alleviates what would have been, she thinks, an otherwise eerie silence. The sound has her smiling as she stumbles along, ignoring the feeling she had earlier, when Junmyeon ignored her questions because she and Junmyeon are more alike at times then they'd care to admit and she knows how he copes better than most, even in her drunken state she's aware of that. The sand isn't cold beneath her bare feet, like sand usually is at night. It's comfortably warm. She finds it a bit hard to walk straight, thanks to the alcohol in her system, her vision swimming and swaying like the ocean itself. She plops down next to Junmyeon ungracefully, first and then her legs splayed out as she catches herself with her hands. She giggles to herself.

Then she eyes Junmyeon’s expression, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. He isn’t necessarily looking at her, but she thinks he isn’t necessarily looking at anything right now. He's thinking. She studies his regal gaze, his perfect skin, his small lips, the wrinkle between his eyebrows, and she thinks he looks beautifully sad, like a stunning, wallowing ghost, his toes curling into the sand, digging in a bit, and his hair messy, some pieces pressed to his forehead and sticking out in all directions, just completely out of place. His eyes are distant, red and puffy.

The expression on his face and the somber atmosphere makes her sober up a bit. She copies his position, pulling her own knees up to her chest and rests her chin there.

She doesn’t say a word, waiting for him to speak first.

Waves crash against the shore. She hears a rev of an engine and a burst of laughter far, far away from where they sit, and it feels like it’s drifting through from another world entirely. Time is a suggestion she begins to believe doesn’t exist as she patiently sits there, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Finally, Junmyeon breaks the silence. He says, “She loved the ocean, Yeeun.”

Yeeun peers out at said ocean and for a brief moment she can almost see Bae Irene, ethereal, tiny, and oh-so-lovely, splashing about in the waves, her laughter echoing through the darkness, her smile making her eyes crinkle gently. Yeeun thinks she can hear her laughing and she wonders if it’s louder for Junmyeon, realer. She wonders how Junmyeon can possibly deal with that if it was louder, realer. She frowns at the ocean, “I’m sorry, Junmyeon. I'm sorry she's gone."

She watches his shoulders drop, back hunching. He thumbs at the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, sniffling so quietly it nearly gets lost amongst the crashing of the waves. She’s never seen him like this and the magnitude of his sadness curls at her heart, sobering her up completely.

“I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn't have made you all come with me.” Junmyeon whispers, then, suddenly, voice rough. She just reaches out and presses a gentle palm to his arm.

“You had to. She asked you to.” She reminds him, gently.

"I'm afraid, Yeeun. I'm afraid we won't be able to go back and...and it'll be because of me." 

Yeeun blinks, reaching for his fingers now. He doesn't push her away like before. His shoulders shake. They stay like that a while. She thinks maybe words aren't necessary with Junmyeon.

(That's how she copes, too.)

Then Junmyeon ducks his head and they just sit there, side by side in the sand, for a long, long time, time bcoming obsolete, until her eyes begin to grow heavy with sleep and her head begins to loll to the side. Until Junmyeon nudges her side, smiling softly when she jolts upright. He murmurs, “Go to sleep.”

She shakes her head and he gives her one of his looks. He says, “Don’t worry about me. You’re about to pass out. I’ll be right in, Yeeun. Go.”

She has a feeling he wants to be fully alone and she’s finding it hard to keep her eyes open anyway, so she grudgingly sighs and murmurs, “Okay, fine.”

Junmyeon smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. She stumbles into the tent after one last look back at Junmyeon staring out at the ocean and tries her best not to step on anyone. The tent is comfortably warm, and she quickly crawls up between Jongdae and Baekhyun, elbowing them in the ribs and earning herself groans and simultaneous swats from two very sleepy boys. Still, Baekhyun automatically lifts an arm in the air—a hilarious sight to behold because his eyes are still shut tight—and she dives in, turning into Jongdae’s arm and chest, burying her cold face there, her back pressed against Baekhyun’s side while he sleeps on his stomach and has half his face pressed to the sleeping bag pillow and the other half against her shoulder. Jongdae burrows his nose against the top of her head, his breathing steady. She falls asleep easily, despite everything, thanks to the gentle rhythm of Jongdae and Baekhyun’s combined breathing, of the steady huffs coming from all around her, from Kyungri and Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. Yeeun presses her surprising cold toes against Jongdae’s calves, earning her a displeased grunt. She falls asleep smiling, content.

~.~.~.~.~

The hangover is terrible, absolutely painful, her head pounding horribly when she wakes up with her shirt sticking to her back and her neck sweaty because of how hot the tent has gotten, despite the tent flaps being wide open. She curses at the stupid sun and the impending heat, groaning loudly as she flails in her spot, throwing a mini tantrum. She accidentally smacks Chanyeol in the face and Chanyeol just shoves her hand off his face, groaning before turning and going back to sleep, his legs spread out so far one of them is resting over her knee. It takes her too long to realize that Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Junmyeon, Kyungri, and Jongdae are all gone and she and Chanyeol are the only ones left in the tent. She gets more annoyed that despite there only being two of them in the tent, it’s still humid and hot. Eventually, she finds it in herself to crawl out of the tent, blinking rapidly at the bright sunlight. Everyone’s sitting on the floor around where the bonfire pit was last night, looking completely worse for wear, though everyone does look like they’ve managed to take a bath, except Kyungri her long hair tangled.

Apparently, Junmyeon found a bathhouse across the street that’s still operating—though just barely, Kyungri and Yeeun learn when they arrive there ten minutes later only to find a cheerful old lady manning the front desk. She just grins, toothlessly, at them, handing them their supplies and asking them the standard how are you today? Then the old lady keeps grinning and grinning and Yeeun is sort of glad when they’re out of her presence because the grinning is starting to get to her the longer she's in its presence.

(They had the whole bathhouse to themselves, though.

Kyungri had sank down to her nose in the hot bath, bubbles popping up when she sighs out underwater, her eyes darting all around them.

“Where are all the employees?” Yeeun had asked, sighing contentedly at the feeling of being clean.

“Maybe they quit.” Kyungri had shrugged. Then she had thrown the exfoliator at Yeeun’s head, making Yeeun glare halfheartedly. “Can you get my back, please? I feel ing disgusting. Remind me to never do beach camping again.”

Yeeun didn’t bother mentioning that, at this rate, they’ll probably never come to a beach again, let alone go beach camping again, because Kyungri seemed to realize that the second after those words left . She had pursed her lips. Yeeun had just snorted, muttering, tell me about it. Camping on the beach had seemed like a good idea yesterday, but then again, they had been drunk yesterday so anything would have seemed like a good idea. She was scrubbing down Kyungri’s back when Kyungri had said, “Can we go exploring today? I want to see the art museums.”

There had been something wistful in Kyungri’s tone, something resigned.

Yeeun had forced out a nonchalant grin, though Kyungri wasn’t even looking at her in the first place. “Definitely. I still have so many Polaroids left.”

And so little time, is left hanging between them, unsaid but so so prominent.)

When they get back, feeling much better, the boys are just beginning to pack up the camping gear. Kyungri claims she’ll supervise, laughing loudly when Kyungsoo glares at her. Yeeun helps pack the tent, nearly falling over when she tries to lift the bag filled with all the rods and materials for the tent.

“Woah, careful there.” Jongdae steadies her with a hand to her back, something she would have scowled at if Jongdae’s sudden touch hadn’t made her nerves catch on fire almost instantly. Jongdae looks tired, she notes, a sallowness to his face that emphasizes just how quietly he’s spoken, which is an anomaly on its own because Jongdae is never fully quiet.

Chanyeol eyes her as he passes by and she knows he’s judging her lifting form. She sticks out her tongue at him and Chanyeol says, “Like a wise man once said, ‘Put in work, put your back into it.’"

Baekhyun pauses, looking up from where he’s rolling up sleeping bags, "Isn't that Ice Cube?"

Yeeun wants to know why Baekhyun knew that right off the top of his head. Chanyeol, on the other hand, just gives Baekhyun and Yeeun a dazzling grin, "Absolutely."

Yeeun rolls her eyes, mouth twitching from the effort to keep from smiling, “You’re really worse than Baekhyun, you know that?”

Chanyeol looks offended, hand poised over his chest. Meanwhile, Baekhyun just nods, thoughtfully, “Everybody’s worse than me, Yeeun. As four very wise and important women once said, ‘I am the best.’”

Chanyeol blinks, “2NE1, 2011?”

“You bet your sweet it’s 2NE1.”

Chanyeol’s grin only gets wider as he bumps fists with Baekhyun, “Good choice, dude.”

Yeeun groans, “God, shut up.” She tries not to smile, but it doesn’t work, and they grin at her obvious amusement. She tries to kick at their shins, stumbling with the tent gear in her hands, and they both cackle, even as Jongdae hovers, hand remaining on her back to keep her from falling onto her . Eventually, Jongdae just lifts the tent gear out of her hand and, honestly, if it had been anyone else she would have told them that she could do it her own damn self, thank you very much, but his bare arms flex in his sleeveless shirt in an utterly distracting way. His free hand remains at her back and she doesn’t mind it, despite the heat of the sun no doubt making her back a sweaty mess, since his palm is sweating a bit, too. She should find it all so gross, but the warmth of his hand above the thin material of t-shirt is absolutely nerve-racking.

(She can almost forget that the sun isn’t supposed to burn her cheeks and nose with heat the way it is. Especially not at this time of the year, not typically.)

When they—everyone but Kyungri—pack everything back into the van, Kyungri speaks up. She’s awfully excited, Yeeun notices, which is unusual because Kyungri is the type to snap at everyone and everything for the slightest of sounds whenever she’s hungover. She’s the opposite today, which either means she’s gotten lucky and isn’t hungover, or she’s just trying to lift their spirits. “I want to see the art! The sculptures!” Kyungri exclaims, her voice loud enough to make Junmyeon flinch (which means he’s completely hungover).

They all simultaneously look at Junmyeon, though, for permission of sorts and he blinks owlishly, obviously flustered.

“What are you all looking at me for?”

“You are the one who organized this little end of the world road trip. You’re pretty much in charge.” Baekhyun states as if that should be obvious.

Junmyeon frowns, clearly flustered at that.

After a moment of silence, Baekhyun says, “So…you want to go home or nah?”

Junmyeon’s eyes lose their light for a moment. Yeeun imagines Junmyeon’s empty apartment overflowing with memories of Irene, of them together. Yeeun grimaces, throwing Baekhyun a warning look. Baekhyun responds with an oblivious eyebrow raise because Baekhyun becomes pretty much tactless when he’s hungover or exhausted in any way. Junmyeon sighs wearily, “Honestly, no.”

“Then we could stay here a day or two.” Kyungsoo suggests.

Chanyeol nods, frowning slightly, “Can I suggest just a day, though? This place sort of creeps me the out.”

Baekhyun shudders, “Ugh, yeah. Remember the screaming yesterday?”

Everyone grimaces with different degrees of uncomfortable plastered across their faces. Kyungri looks pale for a moment before she says, voice still too cheery, “Okay, yeah. Those are all good points. But I still want to see the art museums.”

Before I die, is left unsaid.

~.~.~.~.~

They all agree on spending the day in Busan and then heading out at sunset to Kyungsoo and Kyungri’s parent's place to drop them off before returning to Seoul. Yeeun figures they’ll be touring around Busan together, but the moment they decide on the departure plan, Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s hand and mutters a transparent, very vague excuse involving the two of them going off on their own. Yeeun instantly interprets that as Chanyeol admitting that they’re going to go do gross, romantic things in an apparent ghost town (with a very cheerful, toothless old lady) and none of them are invited to tag along—which Yeeun does not want to do, in the first place. Yeeun grimaces at them while Kyungri laughs, absolutely delighted by Chanyeol’s poor attempt at being discrete, his expression obviously smitten.

Baekhyun simply looks on blankly before reminding them that most of the hotels in town are probably deserted so don’t defile any public spaces, you nasty lovebirds (which only earns him a headlock from Kyungsoo and Chanyeol nodding along in approval). Then, Chanyeol promptly, and unsurprisingly, drags Kyungsoo away by the hand, swinging their intertwined hands between them as they go. Kyungsoo, surprisingly, starts to lead the way, phone in hand as he pulls Chanyeol closer, pointing off to the right. Yeeun thinks it’s an absolutely adorable sight.

Baekhyun watches them go, a small smile she finds so incredibly endearing playing on his lips, before he turns back to the rest of them and waves his cell phone. “Well, Tinder Boo wants to meet up and I need to charge my phone. So, bye.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Junmyeon blinks as Baekhyun raises a brow at Junmyeon, “Isn’t that…dangerous or something? You don’t even know him.”

“More dangerous than solar flares burning us all alive and radiation sickness infecting everyone?” Baekhyun asks, raising a brow.

Junmyeon makes a face, “Well, probably not.”

“You could be meeting up with a serial killer, Baek. Or a kidnapper.” Kyungri suggests, pursing her lips. “Haven’t you ever watched that Cloverfield sequel?”

“Ri, you’re the only person I know who’s watched that.” Baekhyun says, snickering. “Besides, Tinder Boo has Wi-Fi and fried chicken.”

Yeeun laughs, she can’t help it, “How romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” Baekhyun grins at her, “I’ll be back by sunset. But if I don’t return, know that I probably died from some bomb head. He says he’s good at it.”

Kyungri makes a face at Baekhyun, which only makes him smile. Junmyeon groans. Yeeun smiles but there’s a strange, dreadful feeling of tightness in her chest at his words. She isn’t sure why. Jongdae, she notices, is still so, so quiet, unusually so. But then, he speaks, for the first time since they left the beach, it seems. “Just be careful, Baek.”

Baekhyun blinks, the tips of his ears turning a little pink, before he dips his head in a nod. The look he gives Jongdae when he looks back up is soft, softer than anything Yeeun has ever seen before. It juxtaposes intensely with the -eating grin he had been sporting just a moment ago. It makes the mischief in his eyes dim immensely until it’s almost gone. “I will.” He says, in a strange tone, “Don’t worry, Dae.”

And then Baekhyun’s grin returns, bright and boxy. He waves as he swivels on his heels and walks away. Jongdae’s gaze follows him long after he rounds the corner. Yeeun knows this because she can’t help but do the same, glancing at Jongdae after.

“Art time, s.” Kyungri announces, after a beat of brief silence. She’s grinning, her eyes big and full of excitement.

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun watches Kyungri snap a photo of the front steps of the Kim Jae Sun Gallery with Yeeun’s Polaroid camera, shaking it out excitedly as she hops up the stairs, dragging a not-so-excited Junmyeon along behind her. She’s sure Junmyeon’s incredibly hungover because he keeps popping Aspirin they’ve picked up at the only open convenience store they’ve driven past so far—the man at the counter seemed so utterly lethargic, seemingly looking right through her when she first tried to hand him her money for the aspirin, a few bags of snacks for everyone's breakfast-slash-lunch, and the overpriced water bottles (thanks to water scarcity). Eventually, the clerk had responded, however he didn’t even seem to notice or care when Kyungri puked in the toilet halfway through the visit.

(How Kyungri manages to be so bubbly despite being so obviously hungover is beyond Yeeun’s understanding because Kyungri's never been like this before, the many times she's woken up with a hangover.)

Yeeun just thinks it’s cute that Junmyeon’s putting up with Kyungri’s excitement, despite obviously not feeling well. He’s good at that; she’s come to notice it over the years that he’s the perfect example of patience.

Yeeun glances sideways, at Jongdae, observing the sharp planes of his face. She finds that she’s unable to look away once she begins studying him. It’s hard to breath when she looks at him, even when there are obvious bags under his eyes from the obvious exhaustion clinging to his bones. There’s a hint of fondness in his eyes as he watches Junmyeon and Kyungri’s antics, watching as they both frown at the top of the stairs because the museum is supposedly closed.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” She asks, blurts out really.

Jongdae peers sideways at her. Her face burns, inexplicably, at the way Jongdae eyes her, gaze raking over h face. Every nerve ending burns whenever he looks at her. Her fingers twitch at her sides, against her palms, and she finds she wants to reach out and hold his hands in hers.

Slowly, Jongdae nods, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Are you okay?” She asks. It’s not usually a personal question, not in the way other people say it. But are you okay has always been a loaded question for them, all of them. She tenses at the brief flood of memories, of Kyungsoo asking her that question so so quietly while she stares across the hall at the vending machine, her limbs tense, her palms digging into the sharp edges of her locker door, and her heart racing so damn fast she’s afraid it’ll burst right out of her chest. She wants to run away. All because of some stupid freshman who decided to kick the vending machine repeatedly when it ate his money and kept his pretzels, the banging too damn loud, familiar. Jongdae knows how personal are you okay can be, how he used to eye her catatonic expressions with careful consideration and carefully murmur are you okay? It’d feel deeper somehow, analytical, as if he’s asking for her feelings, her mental health, everything, not just what’s lying on the surface.

Jongdae seems to consider her question. Then he shakes his head. “I drank too much last night. The come down feels like .”

(She wants to tell him that she cares about him, that the come down doesn’t have to hurt so much, that she's here to keep him from coming down too hard. Because she can see that he’s hurting, she can see it in his dimmed eyes and small frown. But she’s bad with words and emotions, another thing she can blame her parents for.)

Instead, she says, “I figured as much.” Her tone is carefully nonchalant. She hates it because it’s the opposite of how she wants to sound. “You didn’t even make a joke about Baekhyun meeting up with Tinder Boo.”

“Is that a thing you expect from me? jokes?” Jongdae’s tone is filled with amusement.

“Yeah. You’re like seventy five percent jokes.”

“What’s the other twenty five percent, then?”

“Whining.”

“I do not whine.” He whines.

She snorts. He opens his mouth to undoubtedly whine again but he gets cut off by Kyungri and Junmyeon.

“It’s closed.” Kyungri pouts. She looks so utterly sad that Yeeun finds herself wanting to magically reopen the art gallery before them just to wipe the sadness out of Kyungri’s expression.

“Maybe the other ones are open. There are a bunch of them out here. One’s bound to be open.” Junmyeon says, his expression matching how Yeeun feels inside regarding Kyungri’s disappointment.

Yeeun blinks in surprise, “How do you know there’s a bunch of them out here?”

They all give her a look, “Google, Yeeun.”

Yeeun rolls her eyes, "I knew that."

Jongdae smiles, "No, you didn't."

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun blinks at the giant yellow building looming over them, so bright it hurts her eyes and her head.

“Banana Long Gallery.” Junmyeon reads out loud as he snaps a Polaroid.

Jongdae laughs then, loud, so loud and so bright that Yeeun can't help but smile. Jongdae says quite simply, in a pointed tone, “ joke.”

Yeeun tries so hard not to laugh but the grin on Jongdae’s face is infectious. She sputters out a laughing, “Oh, my God.”

~.~.~.~.~

Halfway through the gallery, they're in front of a particularly interesting piece of abstract art that truly, honestly resembles a multicolored and Jongdae whispers, “ joke.” in her ear and she presses the back of her hand to her lips, giggling despite her efforts.

(The security guard in the corner–a surprising sight since they've seen like one front desk clerk and two other security guards in each of the other exhibit rooms today– grins at them and she thinks he looks maniacal, teeth bared and eyes way too big, bruised purple underneath his eyes like he hasn't slept for a week.)

In that room, she reaches for his hand, intertwined her fingers through his. It's an accidental, unconscious, thing, because she's always had fantasies about holding a boy’s hand in an art museum–though she certainly never imagined she'd be surrounded by phallic art pieces with an impending apocalypse quickly creeping up on them while said boy makes her giggle with a running gag about jokes–and her brain just tells her to do it. She can't help it.

She blinks in surprise the minute she realizes what she's done, reddening completely before quickly pulling away. She doesn't know why she pulls away, she's held his hand plenty of times before, but this feels different somehow. Her hand is a couple inches away when Jongdae reaches out and tugs at her fingers, tucking her hand in hers with a sort of finality that has her eyes widening and her face burning. She can't seem to meet his eyes properly and he smiles as if he's on the verge of laughter. His thumb traces soft soft circles all along the back of her hand. She thinks she should say something, but her mind is blank, and her palms are most definitely sweating.

Another minute of silence passes before she raises their intertwined hands and blurts out, “No touching the artwork, Jongdae.”

She's slightly mortified at how cheesy her words sound (they could have been said by Junmyeon, that's how damn cheesy it is) but then Jongdae chuckles. A chuckle for Jongdae, however, is a loud laugh for everyone else. The sound is so lovely and all-encompassing that she finds herself mesmerized by the way he throws his head back, his lips curling in that peculiar way of his. She thinks she could revel in the sound of it all damn day, her chest swelling almost painfully because god, god, she loves the sound of his laugh so, so much.

(She thinks, maybe, she loves him so so much. There is a tinge of pain at that sudden revelation and, for a moment, her mind drifts to someone else's loud laughter and boxy, beautiful smile.

Her heart is so so full, it hurts.)

~.~.~.~.~

It's nearing sunset when Kyungri sneezes. “Ugh. There are no cars out here so why is there dust going up my nose?”

Junmyeon relaxes at her words, tense shoulders drooping.

They're parked on the boardwalk, leaning against the car. Yeeun feels flushed because Jongdae, well, he hasn't stopped holding her hand since Banana Long Gallery and it's series of phallic inspired exhibits. Kyungri just eyes their intertwined hands, yet surprisingly she doesn’t comment. She just rubs her nose, sniffling a little bit as she leans back against the van.

The sun is setting and it's a beautiful sight to behold, sky awash with purples and pinks and soft dusty oranges. Yeeun hates how deceptive it is because this beautiful thing is so damn close to destroying them.

A couple minutes of silence passes before Junmyeon says, “Do you think we could ride back up along the coast, instead?”

He's staring at the ocean and she thinks he looks at the ocean like a man who longs to drown in it’s depths. It scares her more than anything else, more than the sun even.

Jongdae responds, tone sincere, sympathetic, soft, “She's not in there, Myeon.”

“Let me believe she is.” Junmyeon replies.

~.~.~.~.~

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol return with enough cotton candy for all of them, a giant teddy bear as tall as Yeeun, and a couple very visible hickies. Yeeun and Kyungri and Junmyeon and Jongdae all exchange looks. Then Jongdae says, voice loud, “ joke. Like three of them, honestly.”

Yeeun cackles like a hyena, doubling over, hand clutching Jongdae's.

Kyungsoo eyes the two of them funnily, “You two are so weird.”

Kyungsoo is smiling though, heart shaped lips pulled taut.

~.~.~.~.~

Baekhyun calls them as the sun begins to dip into the horizon, his voice crackly through Kyungri's phone speaker. Yeeun sits in the very back, Kyungsoo's giant teddy bear wedged between Kyungri and her. It's soft and both Kyungri and Yeeun can't help but snuggle up to it, like a giant pillow, despite the stuffiness within the car.

Junmyeon scowls at nothing as Baekhyun says, “Can you guys please pick me up?”

He doesn’t sound distressed or stranded, just tired, and her relief makes her feel strange.

“Junmyeon's going to yell at you in ETA eight minutes, by the way.” Kyungri whispers into her phone when Junmyeon grudgingly agrees, a mom-ish scowl still plastered across her face.

Baekhyun snorts, “Junmyeon loves me.”

“No!” Junmyeon shouts.

“He said, no.” Kyungri clarifies, grinning in amusement because she loves when everyone insults each other.

Baekhyun just makes kissy noises through the phone before hanging up.

~.~.~.~.~

The apartment building looks terribly bland even from this distance. Especially from this distance. Yeeun can't help but snap a Polaroid of it–somehow the blandness is too interesting for her to just ignore, so she hurriedly documents its existence. It looms over them, like it's sagging in the heat of the sun. A couple balconies have towels and clothes fluttering off them, colorful flags lighting up it's grayish walls. She thinks, if buildings could talk, this one would sound like an old man yelling at them to get off his lawn. Yeeun doesn't even look at it as she stuffs the Polaroid into her crossbody bag with the rest of them. She can see a few people up on the roof, tiny specks because of the backdrop of bright sunlight, and she can hear them laughing loudly as they walk the roof. She can see them playing around, since the building isn't necessarily that tall, and it shouldn't be disconcerting, yet the loud laughter somehow leaves her on edge. She can't put her finger on why. One of the figures up above looks down at them from over the ledge of the building, teetering dangerously at the edge. She can't see their face, can't make out the words they seem to be calling down to them, but their laughter afterwards reminds her of the cawing of crows, sharp and scratchy against her bones, clawing under her skin.

In front of the shabby apartment building are two boys – Baekhyun and an unfamiliar boy who's a whole head taller than Baekhyun (therefore much, much taller than her) and all stringy limbs, like Chanyeol, but more lithe, sinewy, and graceful, unlike Chanyeol. He leans against the handle of a tiny suitcase, dressed in a loose black sleeveless shirt that contrasts nicely with his pale skin, his ripped jeans exactly like the black ripped jeans Baekhyun always wears, except it's a light blue. He's everything Yeeun expected from Tinder Boo (because Baekhyun tends to hook up with beautiful people), complete with a no-s-given solemnity and model looks that could make even Victoria's Secret Angels cry.

Baekhyun is currently poking at Sehun with his toe, grinning all the while. Sehun's scowl just deepens.

Junmyeon slowly rolls up beside them and they all stare out the open van windows, not bothering to hide the fact that they're staring at all.

Baekhyun turns his grin on them, gesturing to the man beside him, knowing damn well it isn't necessary because they're all staring at him anyway. "This is Tinder Boo and, in case you all wanted a follow-up, he does, in fact, give some bomb head."

(Kyungsoo and Chanyeol look confused. Kyungri grimaces. Yeeun blinks. Jongdae rolls his eyes.)

"Tinder Boo?" Tinder Boo raises a delicate brow at Baekhyun, clearly amused by the nickname. He doesn't acknowledge anything else Baekhyun had said and that's acknowledgement enough. His lips curve, twitching a little, and she thinks Tinder Boo is too damn perfect.

She whispers as much to Jongdae and Kyungri, turning to them in the backseat, shaking her head all the while, her chest swelling with an emotion she can't quite decipher.

Jongdae looks like he agrees, if his slow nod is anything to go by, his eyes never quite falling away from Baekhyun or Tinder Boo. Kyungri whispers back, "I know...do you think he has a sister I could hit up?"

Junmyeon blinks, speaking out, "Um...hello?"

Tinder Boo smiles, then, and the stoic expression completely melts away, revealing an adorable smile, eyes turning into crescents, and she'd describe his smile as almost bashful. It's not fair. One minute, he looks like he could kill her, and then he smiles like that. Yeeun genuinely believes she's looking at the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll.

"Hi, I'm Oh Sehun." Tinder Boo–Oh Sehun–pauses. "Or Tinder Boo, I guess."

They all introduce themselves and Yeeun thinks it's a little awkward, especially when Sehun responds to her introduction with oh I've heard a lot about you. I've heard a lot about all of you, but definitely a bit more about you, Yeeun. And Jongdae, too. Nice to finally meet you guys. Yeeun doesn't know what to make of that. Baekhyun doesn't meet her eyes when she glances at him, gaze questioning. While Sehun greets Kyungri, Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol, Baekhyun watches on like a proud father. It's almost cute.

There's a beat of silence, after, but before it can be drawn out, it's broken by screaming laughter drifting down from the roof. It intermingles with chanting that sounds like, "Do it, do it, do it!"

Yeeun frowns and her frown only deepens when Baekhyun's ever-present grin falls away, quite suddenly. She wonders if it has something to do with the laughing and chanting. Baekhyun turns to Junmyeon, nodding towards Sehun, "He needs a ride."

Junmyeon seems flustered by the sheer fact that the question is being directed at him. Jongdae straightens next to Yeeun.

"What? Why?" Jongdae asks, frowning at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun locks eyes with Jongdae for a long, long moment. Then Baekhyun opens his mouth, "Listen, you guys–"

BANG.

Yeeun jumps, a shriek spilling from her lips, her knee banging against the back of the middle seat. Her heart shoots up, banging frantically against her ribs. For a moment, she is not in that car anymore. She's thrown into memories of slamming doors, of banging fists that sound so awfully similar, bang bang bang, of her pressed against the far wall of her bedroom, wishing she could somehow sink through it, of sharp pain across her cheek, of the sharp metallic tang of blood in . She gasps, cries out really, when someone grabs her hand, her face. She blinks rapidly and her vision blurs–from tears filling her eyes, but not spilling, she later realizes. The memories fade quickly when she's able to rationalize that the hand holding her face isn't hurting her. She still flinches, she can't help it, and Kyungri's worried expression swims in her vision, so so close to her face. She cups Yeeun's face with her soft palm and murmurs something Yeeun doesn't catch at all. Yeeun actively needs to remind herself that Kyungri isn't trying to hurt her and her heart rate begins to slow, though not enough. Jongdae's voice is feather-like against the shell of her ear, "Yeeun, you're okay."

She nods and her heart rate slows even more. She slowly comes back to reality, her fingers clutching at Jongdae's warm hand, leaning into Kyungri's touch. She slowly registers her surroundings. She takes note of Baekhyun and Oh Sehun pressed flush against the side of the van, their chests heaving, Baekhyun’s fingers clutching the back of Sehun's shirt protectively almost, his knuckles white from the tightness of his grip.

A loud, scratchy voice cackles from above, "You missed, head. You missed, you missed, missed, missed, missed." The others snicker like he's just made the funniest joke.

Her eye drift past Baekhyun, who watches her with intense concern as if she'll fall into another state of panic and memories, and stares at the spot Baekhyun and Oh Sehun were just standing in absolute horror. There are shattered pieces of splintered wood and glass on the pavement. Her mind supplies coffee table and she looks up, realizing with utmost dread that the people up on the roof dropped a wood-and-glass coffee table off the ledge, right on top of where Baekhyun and Oh Sehun had been standing. The splintered wood and glass sprinkles the sidewalk similar in appearance to the abstract splatters of paint they had seen at the gallery today.

Yeeun blinks, her heart lodged in

"What the ?" Kyungsoo's voice is quiet, confused, angry, scared.

("Missed, missed, missed, how could you miss, try again, again, again.")

Oh Sehun takes a deep, deep breath and ducks his head into the van, the planes of his face rigid, "Please, take me with you."

~.~.~.~.~

"That's not the first time someone's done something stupid and dangerous like that." Sehun speaks slowly, nose curling and eyes distant, making Yeeun briefly wonder what other things Sehun's seen because he's barely rattled by a couple people trying to drop heavy furniture on his head from six stories up. Clearly, he's seen worse. "I don't know what happened, why everything changed. It just did. I think it began with the police and hospitals? They made such a huge deal about getting sick. And, I mean, yeah, there were plenty of sick people. Some of them were bleeding from their eyes. But then the hospitals shut down and the police just left and–I've heard rumors that it's hard to go back up north. Baek told me about the military barricades when you guys came down here, so I guess that's true. Anyways, after the police and doctors–not all of them but most of them–left everyone started acting ing ridiculous. Either they've been super listless and just...quiet or they're like that. Like they've lost their minds or something." Sehun makes a face, "I don't know what it is, but I do know that I don't want it anywhere near me. Busan is–it's done for and the flares haven't even hit yet."

She tries to fully process his words, observing his serious expression. She can tell he's not making anything up; she watched those people on top of the roof try to kill Baekhyun and Sehun. There's no other explanation for what happened and what their intentions were aside from killing them, or at the very least hurting them. But she can't wrap her head around it. She doesn't understand the logistics of how and why. She knows of violence, knows all about people who hurt other people to feel powerful or because they're angry at themselves and all they can do is project and inflict the same pain they're feeling on the people around them. She knows of violence. But mostly when there's a modicum of reason, intent, connection behind it. Sehun says he didn't even know those people. Those people hadn't stopped shouting out, "You missed, missed, missed." like it was some kind of game.

Yeeun tries to recall her biology classes and that one medical class she took before realizing Medical School was too expensive to pursue, no matter how much she wanted it. She still couldn't help taking a few more medical classes after, even while deciding on a research path rather than a medical one, her interests revolving around Biology and Psychology. She tries to remember her psychology classes, tries to remember anything useful. But it's been so damn long since she took her classwork and lectures seriously. Information is still ingrained in her mind, those nights of studying her off until dawn were not done in vain, but it's hard to really think at the moment. She's overwhelmed and she doesn't think it'll be possible for her to just sit down and think over everything she's learned, not now. Bits and pieces come back to her and she grasps at those, at anything at this point.

Junmyeon blinks, "What's wrong with them?"

Words flutters through the back of her mind. She doesn't think it possible. She's learned about radiation. It can make one sick, make them puke and develop cancer and deteriorate quickly, but mania and listlessness? Those are symptoms for entirely different things, aren't they? She can't think. Baekhyun is the one to say, "I was thinking they were symptoms of a sickness. Maybe the radiation sickness Irene was treating? Sehun mentioned that the patients bleeding from their eyes were left behind, too, and the doctors all left. Junmyeon also-" Baekhyun looks apologetic when he glances at Junmyeon. Junmyeon's grip on the steering wheel tightens. He looks at Sehun. "There was a quarantine and people were bleeding from the eyes there, but then they gave up on that, too."

Sehun nods, "A lot of people skipped town before they stopped letting us leave. There was a mass funeral for the ones that died in quarantine. They were mostly old people and young children. Nobody really knows what their symptoms were before the bleeding, or after it really, so I think Baekhyun might be on to something."

"Why didn't we hear about this on the news?" Kyungsoo asks, glancing at Chanyeol. Kyungsoo doesn't look too annoyed or skeptical and Yeeun isn't too surprised either. She's heard Kyungsoo rant about their government's tendency to keep things from the public enough times to know that this is a habit now. But, still. If those people on the roof are products of some kind of disease, radiation sickness, then what are they going to do? How will they survive if the government hadn’t even bothered to warn them about it?

"Maybe the same reason why my sister couldn't broadcast the hospital footage." Chanyeol says. They all know the reason.

"Yeeun." Jongdae speaks up then, his hand landing carefully on top of Yeeun's thigh. She blinks down at his hand, momentarily dazed, before she looks up to meet his eyes. "What do you think?"

She knows he's asking about the symptoms. But she is no doctor. She can't make a diagnosis on something she can barely wrap her head around. Besides, she's definitely not qualified to do so anyway. "I don't know. Nothing makes sense." Yeeun frowns, "The reckless, dangerous behavior sounds like extreme cases of mania. Listlessness is a symptom for a lot of mood disorders, too. It's just–the fevers, bleeding from the eyes, death, those are all symptoms for different things? And apparently, they're calling it radiation? How are they showing up all at once like this?" She makes a face when no one says anything, immediately frustrated because she doesn't have enough knowledge for this, "I'm only a third year. I don't know enough to think anything."

Jongdae's her knee, a soothing gesture that keeps her from pulling her hair out.

"Either way, it's terrifying." Sehun says, glancing between them. "I've seen things I never thought I'd see. It was–I shouldn't have stayed behind. My brother and my friends are sitting out up north in Yangyang, near the airport, and I think it's time I joined them."

Junmyeon frowns at Sehun, "We're going towards Seoul."

"Listen, Junmyeon." Sehun leans his head back against the headrest, tacking on a very informal suffix to Junmyeon's name, making Junmyeon raise a brow, "This thing, mania or sickness or whatever, is going to show up in the north eventually. Seoul will be the last place you want to be when that happens. Imagine that times a thousand."

"We're not driving you to Yangyang, Oh Sehun."

"What if I told you that there are rumors of a bunker that can withstand the solar flares? We all know those emergency bunkers aren't going to do against the sun."

"Then I'd say you're lying because you're desperate."

Baekhyun shakes his head. Her skin prickles at how serious Baekhyun is, for once. "He's not the only one mentioning these rumors."

Jongdae raises a brow at Baekhyun, "Is that why you've been glued to Tinder since we left?"

Baekhyun looks over his shoulder, his eyes dropping momentarily to Jongdae's hand pressed to Yeeun's knee. His gaze lingers for a second too long and she can't quite read his eyes, but she finds his lingering gaze makes her heart lodge in for just a moment. But then he looks back up and grins, the seriousness melting away for just a moment, "Well, yes. But also for the hot people. You know, two birds one stone and all that." Baekhyun's gaze flashes downwards once more before he turns back to the front and adds, "Anyways, Kyungsoo's conspiracies got to me. Figured word of mouth would be better than official news right now."

It's quiet again while Junmyeon weaves through the streets of Busan. She gets nervous, when she looks out the window and notices an occasional person walking the streets. She blinks as a person hanging off one of the street signs snaps there head up and watches them drive by, eyes following them. Her heart is racing against her rib cage like it's trying to escape her chest.

Kyungri speaks up, tone soft, "Where is the bunker?"

There is hope there, in the slightly lower timber of her voice.

"Somewhere along the DMZ. They military set it up. They'll  you there when you get close so they can keep it secure. I heard they're letting anyone in, as long as they're not sick. They're just keeping it quiet because they don't want it overrun."

"The DMZ? Why there?"

"It'd be easier to guard. North Korea's to the north so they won't have to worry about patrolling that side, what with the minefield. I doubt North Korea's going to try and come down any time soon, either. Especially now, that they're so focused on demanding things from the U.S. There's already a bunch of military all along there in general and there are practically no civilians living there. It's perfect for a secluded bunker." Jongdae says, his history and politics specialization slipping through.

"Or like ten." Kyungsoo says, raising a brow.

"What if–what if it's not open to the public, though?" Chanyeol says, with a delicate little frown and worry wrinkling his brows.

"We can check it out." Yeeun puts both her hands over Jongdae's hand on her knee and he watches her carefully, softly. She replies, "I mean, what have we got to lose, anyway? Our lives?" She snorts and it's so morbid she could cringe. Jongdae just squeezes her hand tightly. They all have matching wry smiles, aside from Kyungri, who just looks pale, frowning.

~.~.~.~.~

Kyungri sneezes as they step out into a little town on the side of the highway. The sun had set long ago and the bright moon glares down at them, just as glaring, she thinks, as the sun had been. Kyungri looks genuinely annoyed, rubbing at her nose, especially when Baekhyun asks after her, placing the back of his hand against her forehead to check for fever. Yeeun doesn't miss the relief in his eyes when Kyungri isn't warm to his touch, the relief even more palpable when Kyungri mutters, it's allergies, Baek and pats Baekhyun's hand reassuringly.

They're parked in a gas station and this time, no one is in the convenience store, the bright white lights glowing eerily from where they're parked next to a gas pump. Junmyeon fills up the van with gas while Sehun saunted towards the convenience store, Baekhyun walking beside him.

(She doesn't know why she can't stop noticing the way Baekhyun lights up around Oh Sehun, the way Baekhyun smiles while Sehun talks. Baekhyun really, really likes Sehun, she realizes, and she's surprised because Baekhyun usually doesn't bother with people he starts to genuinely like, not romantically at least. Not since Yixing and Taeyeon. The fact that she's noticing this, noticing him like this, while her heart jumps and skips a beat every time Jongdae's arm brushes against hers as they stand side by side, is what makes everything worse. It's confusing and disconcerting. It makes her feel like , her eyes lingering on Jongdae as he heads towards the convenience store with Chanyeol.)

"This place creeps me the out." Kyungsoo mutters, leaning against the car right beside her, replacing Jongdae at her side.

Yeeun peers at Kyungsoo before bumping his shoulder, gently, "At least you have Chanyeol to hide behind."

"Is that a short joke in disguise?"

"Maybe."

Kyungsoo laughs, a low lovely sound that's similar to his sister's. "Shut up. I'm taller than you."

"By like three centimeters."

"Multiply that by four."

"Okay, math wizard, fine. Twelve centimeters. Same thing."

"...It's really not."

Yeeun grins and Kyungsoo grins right back. There's a comfortable, companionable silence between them, until Yeeun says, "You know, I'm glad you finally came to your senses. Though, your timing's a bit ."

"I guess news of impending doom is just the kind of kicking I needed to make me realize what was right there in front of me this whole time."

"Can't believe you missed it this whole time. Chanyeol's huge." Yeeun says.

"He is." Kyungsoo says, amused.

Yeeun looks at him.

Kyungsoo's smile turns down, "Don't make a joke."

Yeeun laughs and then there's a pause before she says, "Seriously though. You're telling me you just realized that you've been in love with Park ing Chanyeol? It took you this long?"

A couple months ago, Kyungsoo would have cringed at the thought of love, of being in love. Yet, here he is, smiling so lovingly his eyes are practically sparkling, "Yeah, it did. I'm an idiot."

"Hell, yeah, you are."

Then Kyungsoo blinks, "What do you mean by just?"

"We made a bet about you two getting together, like, sophomore year of high school."

"No way."

"Yes, way."

Kyungsoo purses his lips. Yeeun watches as Jongdae, Sehun, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol walk out of the convenience store, plastic bags in hand. Baekhyun's murmuring something in Jongdae's ear, Jongdae grinning, all while Chanyeol talks animatedly with Sehun, who looks amused. "We made a betting pool about you, too, in high school, you know."

Yeeun blinks, tearing her eyes away from Baekhyun and Jongdae seemingly conspiring together. "Really?" Kyungsoo isn't quite looking at her. It takes a minute for him to meet her gaze. She says, "What was it for?"

(She honestly can't think of a single thing they would bet about concerning her.)

"Who you'd end up falling in love with."

She blinks, "Who was it?"

"You already know."

She glances back, at Baekhyun pinching Sehun and Jongdae laughing while Sehun pouts, Chanyeol grinning. Then she says it, admits it out loud, "I really don't."

Kyungsoo blinks, surprised, his gaze following hers, glancing back and forth between the two of them. She feels like absolute . She looks over at Kyungsoo and he smiles, sadly, at her. 

~.~.~.~.~

The town is absolutely deserted. They ride up to a hotel with deserted parking lots and it's so silent that she shivers. It's surreal, walking through the revolving doors, the lights warm and comforting. It feels like someone should be here. Kyungri presses the little desk bell over and over again just in case and the ringing echoes throughout the empty lobby, through the empty hallways, until Kyungsoo presses a hand over hers and says, "Let's just grab keys and go up."

For a moment they all stare at him like he's crazy. It's a brief moment of staring.

But Kyungsoo takes the keys behind the counter anyway, making sure to grab enough for each of them and that all the rooms are next to each other.

And they don't stop him, even though Yeeun still feels bad about it.

They're exhausted and Yeeun really, really wants to sleep in an actual bed and stealing a hotel room isn't the worst they could do. She makes a note to herself to leave some money behind. She fiddles with her Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of the empty lobby behind her before stepping into the elevator with everyone else. Anxiety rolls off of all of them because this feels so so wrong. The elevator door opens on the fourth floor and they stare down the hall, unmoving.

Then, Kyungsoo hands out keys and they each wander into separate rooms (Chanyeol and Kyungsoo use the same room and Kyungri giggles in amusement) and Yeeun somehow ends up still standing there, in the middle of the hall, a bit dazed. She looks up and finds herself standing next to Oh Sehun. Alone. She blinks at him awkwardly. He raises a brow, tilting his head curiously, his pretty eyes seemingly sizing her up. Before she can say anything, though she really has no idea what to say, her stomach churning, Baekhyun sticks his head out of one of the hotel rooms. He freezes, glancing quickly between Sehun and Yeeun, before he seems to catch himself. He composes himself so fast, she could almost pretend she imagined the frown fluttering across his face. "Wanna share?" Baekhyun asks.

Sehun raises a brow and he looks like he's laughing really hard on the inside. "You asking me or her?"

Baekhyun actually looks flustered for a moment, blinking rapidly as he straightens up, disappearing behind the door for a brief moment before reappearing. Yeeun's face feels like it's on fire, especially when Baekhyun glances at her multiple times. Then Baekhyun rolls his eyes, "You, Sehun. Obviously."

Sehun just laughs, a tinkling sound that's too sweet to match his exterior. He strides in after Baekhyun, door shutting behind him.

The door next to Baekhyun and Sehun's room opens and Jongdae leans against the door hinge, his hair messy and his pretty eyes on her. Her face heats up even more from that look alone.

Jongdae doesn't even say anything, just turns on his heels and walks back into the room, though he leaves the door remaining wide open.

She blinks down the empty hall and her skin crawls. She doesn't want to sleep alone in a too big hotel room.

So, she follows after him.

(She hates that her steps falter in front of Baekhyun and Sehun's room just long enough for her to hear them giggling through the door.)

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae sits on the single, queen sized bed, and she nearly melts, right there and then, at the intensity of his gaze, the depth and certainty mixing with uncertainty, the way the hotel lights cast long shadows over his face, sharpen his already so sharp features. He is cutting, but soft, all-encompassing, galaxies spinning in his eyes, filling up her weak limbs, up up up until she can't ing breathe.

He murmurs, “Is this okay?”

She watches him look around, at the single bed, the generic carpet, the windows where bright moonlight is peeking through the curtains, and then at her. His eyes are big, vulnerable, more uncertain now.

Slowly, she steps forward, one step, two steps, three, until her knees knock against his and he's looking up at her through his eyelashes, shoulders tense as if he's afraid she'll run or disappear with the slightest of movements.

Her heart pounds in her chest and her breathing grows shallow. She looks down at his pretty eyelashes, the curve of his curly lips, notices the tiny mole, and she thinks—she breathes out, gasps really, “This is more than okay.”

And he reaches up, cups both her cheeks with tender palms, and cranes his neck even as he pulls her down. Their lips crash together and it's awkward at first, teeth knocking against teeth as she stumbles forward, clutches his shoulders for balance. Then they find their rhythm and her heart pounds away to a beat she thinks is in sync with his. He smells of peppermint, sweat, Jongdae, and her fingers dig into his shoulders. He feels safe, warm, and her heart beats wildly against her ribs. She presses forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, sitting on his lap, and he kisses her like this is not only his first time, but also his last. It might be. And she is okay with that, okay with the timing implied in his always loaded are you okay. Jongdae gasps for air, little kitten like sounds that leave her melting against his chest, in his lap, and she smiles against his lips, she can't ing help it. He drops a peck to her lips, against her smile, he can't help it either.

He studies her expression and his eyes, the galaxies encased within them, are lit so bright she could drown in them. He peppers her face with little pecks and her smile grows bigger, his hands warm on her face. “God,” he whispers in between kisses, his tone so reverent as he presses his hands to her face, fingers brushing her neck, grip on her hips fluttering down the curve of her spine. He looks at her like she is the only form of god he knows and her face burns, angel wings fluttering in her stomach, her fingers clenched tightly in his hair, arms around his neck.

“Years,” he breathes, “I've wanted to do that for years.”

She breathes in the scent of him, peppermint and a hint of cotton linens and sweat and Jongdae.

She whispers, her voice rough, emotional, fill to the brim with the longing that's stirred inside her for so ing long, “Me, too.”

(She knows this statement to be true, but for a brief moment, she imagines pretty fingers and a boxy grin there as well, right beside her and Jongdae. Her heart slams against her ribs at the thought.)

Jongdae brushes her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, smiling all the while, his eyes forming sweet crescent moons, and he kisses the tip of her nose. She sighs, melting further against him.

~.~.~.~.~

They leave the television muted, the blue light flickering through the darkness, casting shadows along his jaw, over her hand. They're in an empty hotel, in an abandoned town, in a bed too small to fit all of them, and she whispers, "Do you think we should follow the rumors and head to the bunkers up north?"

"We'd never make it." He whispers. "It might not even be real."

Resignation lingers between them.

She twists a piece of loose thread around her finger, tightening until it cuts off circulation. "We could try."

He lets out a shaky breath, the hand he has raking through her hair pausing in its ministrations. She feels the shakiness of his breath against her cheek.

She clutches at the pillow under her head, "Junmyeon…he wants to be near the ocean. We could drive the coast up." She takes a deep breath, "Besides, we have to drop off Tinder Boo."

(She can see the fondness in his eyes whenever he looked at Tinder Boo and she's vaguely confused by the sudden need to smile into her pillow and the way her heart swells in her chest as she does it.)

There's a pause before he says, softly, "Okay.

~.~.~.~.~

She wakes up to all-encompassing warmth and she sighs, humming contently as she turns, digging her face into the crook of his neck. Jongdae her hair, a soothing movement that nearly has her drifting back to sleep.

At least she would have contentedly fallen back to sleep in his warm arms, relishing in the way Jongdae's hair sticks up all over the place and his eyes droop sleepily, a soft feathery smile playing on his lips, but the almost picturesque morning, with bright sunlight filtering through the cracks between the curtains and the softness of the white sheets as his skin presses against hers, his hand on her waist, electricity striking up her nerves at every touch they share, intentional or not, the absolute serenity–it shatters instantly at the urgent banging on their hotel door.

Yeeun jolts, still so so unused to loud sudden noises, despite all these years. Jongdae presses a firm palm to her tummy, whispers in a reassuring voice, voice rough and deep from sleep, "You're okay." He reminds her.

(She thinks he could tell her that cows can fly and she'd wholeheartedly believe him.)

She nods, jerkily, relaxing immediately as she takes deep breaths, calming herself,  her fingers uncurling from their fists, especially when he drops a quick peck on her forehead, just along her hairline. She closes her eyes at the pressure, even as his weight leaves the bed.

She opens her eyes to see him disappear into the hallway leading to the hotel room door.

As soon as the heavy click of the lock turning echoes through the room, a frantic voice drifts into the room, loud and so worried, it surprises her because he never sounds worried. "Junmyeon wanted us to meet in the lobby. He said he made breakfast or something."

"Oka–"

"I can't find her." She can imagine the serious look in Baekhyun's eyes, the crinkle between his brows, the way he suddenly blurts out his words, "I–Junmyeon said he couldn't get through to you or Yeeun and–I don't know where Yeeun is, Jongdae. I don't think she's in any of the other rooms, like, I went through and knocked on each door in the hall, double checking just in case, and I'm–what? Why the are you smiling like that? This is serious, Jongdae!" There's a brief pause, Jongdae's words quiet and indecipherable to her. And then the silence stretches on for a beat longer before Baekhyun murmurs, "Oh. Oh. Okay, so she's...oh my god, you head . You didn't have to watch me freak out like that.”

"It was cute." Jongdae says, nonchalantly. She can visualize the smirk as if she's looking right at it. "I couldn't resist."

There's another pause and she's momentarily surprised Baekhyun doesn't quip back. Instead she hears a quiet ow from Jongdae and the door slamming shut before there are footsteps and Yeeun peeks out from under her warm sheets that are just beginning to lose Jongdae's body heat and she reddens inexplicably at Byun Baekhyun, arms crossed over his chest as he stands next to the hotel television set and eyes her and the queen sized bed she's laying in, gaze almost scrutinizing.

For a moment, she thinks he'll say something along the same vein as that night, at six weeks, when they spent the night drinking at Kyungsoo, Kyungri, and her apartment and pretended like the news didn't bother them. A continuation of the questions they had left off almost indefinitely, thanks to Chanyeol. She sees the way his dark eyes that are always anciently sad, deep deep down,  and always so unreadable to her, soften after a moment, even as they change, leveling her with a steady, steady gaze that leaves her turning redder than she already is. His gaze feels both soft and heavy, searching. But perhaps, that momentary thought is just wishful thinking on her part. In reality, the softening, the keen intent, disappears completely as he turns back to Jongdae, arms still crossed. Jongdae is now leaning against the wall leading to the hallway leading out of the room. Back and forth, back and forth, Baekhyun swivels, until Baekhyun's gaze finally, finally, settles on her. She's glad because the movement is so fast and sharp, it's slightly nauseating to look at.

He says, "I spent an hour in distress because of you."

He doesn't sound very accusing, just worried, still. She frowns at him as she sits up, her messy hair falling into her face. She shoves it out of her face, letting the sheets bunch around her waist because she has a tendency to sleep without pants on and they both know it (in fact all of them do, due to unfortunate drunken circumstances fresman year of college involving an ex-boyfriend and too many tequila body shots). Jongdae, she notices, is downright staring at her with all the tenderness she's seen throughout his years all wrapped up in a single gaze, his curly lips pressed up into a smile that makes her want to melt into a puddle right here and now.

(And Baekhyun? that awful, tiny voice in her head reminds her, the same voice that rejoices in her confusion at the sudden intensity of her feelings, of everything in her head. Baekhyun looks at her with piercing eyes, looks and looks and looks, until her heart rockets within the confines of her chest and her fingers twist and twist at the sheets draped across her lap.)

Suddenly she feels very overwhelmed.

And severely exposed; vulnerable.

(But not in a bad way, she finds. Just in an overtly overwhelming, mind-boggling sort of way.)

"Is that why you're not wearing any pants?" Yeeun asks, because when she's overwhelmed she just shuts down and relies on observations, sarcasm, anything else that can make her forget about her damn feelings.

Baekhyun looks down and Jongdae eyes him, too. Baekhyun's shirt (which she thinks doesn't belong to him because it's too big and her mind supplies Sehun while her stomach churns) ends mid-thigh and she can see a glimpse of black boxers, no doubt Supreme brand because Baekhyun can be one hell of a boy when he wants to be, but otherwise there are no pants to be seen, whatsoever, his toned honey thighs and calves on full display.

"No." Baekhyun makes a face at her and she notices his ears turn the tiniest bit pink. Then he eyes her pointedly, "Like you're one to talk."

She makes a pfft sound, "Don't change the subject."

And Baekhyun just scowls, crossing his arms, as he opens his mouth to retort. Jongdae laughs, loud beautiful and slightly rough around the edges due to sleep. "You're both so cute." Jongdae concludes, absolutely amused as he eyes them both appreciatively, grin so so big. Neither of them say anything, because what do you say to that? Jongdae's still smiling as he pushes himself off the wall and turns, heading to the bathroom. The door shuts behind him and she finds that both she and Baekhyun are blinking after him, subdued because of his words.

"Go put on some pants. We'll be down in ten minutes tops." Yeeun tells him, shooing at him.

"All right. No getting distracted. Junmyeon sounded like he was in a rush." Baekhyun raises a brow at her, tone suggestive.

She splutters, reddening substantially. "Sh–Shut up." She raises a brow right back, "I could say the same damn thing about you and Tinder Boo."

(She tries to ignore the fact that she can hear the edge to her tone because it shouldn't even be there. She has no right and she feels like immediately, her grin blinding in hopes that he won't notice. But it's Baekhyun. He notices everything. There is a moment, a brief suspended moment in time, where they lock eyes and the other is all they see. Her breathing slows and she wonders for a brief moment if he is affected at all by this the same way she is. A small, wicked smile plays at the corner of his lips and his eyes–god his eyes–are pinned on her, his gaze heavy, intense, so fervent that her fingers curl into fists at her laps and her nails dig dig dig into her palms until it almost hurts. Her stomach churns.)

"Careful, Yeeun. You almost sounded jealous there." Baekhyun says it like it's a warning, not a playful quip. But then he laughs and it sounds like any other stupid dig he'd say. She lets it be just that.

The tension breaks, instantly. His smile as he walks away is amused, more than anything.

(But she isn't so confused now, she thinks. Especially when Jongdae comes out of the shower, hair wet while he beams at her, kissing her full on the mouth, smelling like the flowery scent of hotel body wash, with so much care she thinks her heart will explode.

He wrinkles his nose, "You smell gross. Go shower."

She giggles when he pushes her towards the door, resisting the urge to ask him to join her because, well, Baekhyun was right and she wants to know why Junmyeon sounded rushed.

She's smile like a damn idiot at nothing, while scrubbing her body with soap. But as she massages hotel shampoo into her hair she is hit with the stark, abrupt realization that has her hands stilling in her hair, water and soap sprinkling down her face. She blinks and she knows, right then and there, that she is in love.

With two people.

She leans back against the shower wall, hot water steaming against her skin, and she heaves for air. She thinks of Kim Jongdae and Byun Baekhyun and of all her thoughts, her moments of confusion, of every damn moment she's had around them, of the morning so far, and she breathes out a shaky long-overdue prayer, a desperate, choked, oh god.)

~.~.~.~.~

Junmyeon shoves breakfast sandwiches into their hands without a hi or hello, his expression exasperated, "It took you two long enough."

"I bet they got distracted." Kyungri comments, chewing on her breakfast sandwich as she grins at them. Yeeun scowls at first, until she takes in Kyungri's appearance. Kyungri has bags under her eyes, as if she hasn't slept for days, and she looks pale. She has a sick mask around her neck. Nobody says anything about it but Yeeun must be staring too hard, unsmiling, because Kyungri smiles, brightly, "My allergies are bothering me. I think I'm gonna look for some over-the-counter medicine next time we stop at a convenience store."

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol raise a brow in Jongdae and Yeeun's direction, moving at the exact same time. They speak before Yeeun can respond to Kyungri. "Distracted, huh?" Chanyeol asks, grinning maniacally.

Yeeun proceeds to eye Chanyeol in annoyance, "Do not start with me."

She eyes Chanyeol's hand hooked in Kyungsoo's pointedly and Chanyeol blushes a bright red that almost perfectly matches the Ronald McDonald red hair he had last year for Halloween.

Jongdae carefully tucks a stray strand of hair behind Yeeun's ear and Yeeun blushes almost as bright as Chanyeol at the pubic display of affection, embarrassed when Kyungri makes a cooing noise. But Jongdae glances at Junmyeon and asks, "Why are we in such a hurry, anyway?"

Baekhyun blinks, tearing his eyes off of Jongdae and Yeeun's show of affection (Sehun blinks between Jongdae and Yeeun and Baekhyun, grim amusement thinning his lips down out of his faint smile) to speak, "Yeah, you never clarified why you wanted us down here at o'clock in the morning."

Junmyeon just looks stressed and annoyed by how slowly they all came down to the lobby, though there's something else in his eyes. Junmyeon turns his gaze upwards before pointing at the front desk. His voice is too steady, forced, "The keys are gone."

"What?" Yeeun frowns, turning to the desk. Chanyeol, who's closest to the front reception desk, leans forwards. After a moment of frantic observation, Yeeun's stomach churns because Junmyeon is right. The keys Kyungsoo had left behind, on a pile on the desk, are all gone. Every single one of them. "Keys can't–they can't just be gone."

Horror and dread washes over her. Hotel keys can't just walk away on their own and Yeeun pales.

This means there's someone here, in this not-so-abandoned town. Someone took the other keys.

"Maybe they're staying the night, like us." Kyungri whispers.

"Why would they take all of them?" Oh Sehun says, slowly.

A shiver runs down Yeeun's spine.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Kyungsoo asks, his tone edged with anxiety, the slightest bit of fear.

"I was–I thought I was imagining it at first." Junmyeon keeps staring at the front desk, "I wanted to leave some money behind and something felt wrong. I didn't–I couldn't believe it when I first saw it."

"You guys." Oh Sehun's voice echoes through the empty lobby, "We need to leave. Now."

They all instantly start to move and Yeeun feels like there are eyes on her, watching her, paranoia creeping up her spine, bit by bit, until she's hurrying faster, all of them are.

Then they're running.

But it's too late.

They're halfway to the car, nearly tripping on pavement, when there's a screeching of tires as a car, with its trunk door open, skids to stop right in front of them. Kyungsoo grabs Junmyeon by the back of the shirt to keep him from getting run over, yanking him back, making Junmyeon fall, scraping his hands, before he scrambles to his feet. There are people hanging off the trunk door, out the small minivan's windows and driver's side, hyena-like laughter and high pitched shouting melting together into this horrifyingly loud noise, so so jarring after all the quiet that had settled over this town, over them. They're all gaunt, big eyes, that's all Yeeun sees at first, that and their monstrous, sharp grins.

The engine revs, wailing into the quiet around them, tires skidding and shooting up small rocks from the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber distinct, and a man's rough voice echoes through the empty parking lot. He grins with all his teeth, his eyes unblinking, "And where do you think you're going? Check-out isn't until eleven!"

a/n: GOD I DON'T DESERVE ANY OF YOU YOU'RE ALL SWEET I'M GONNA CRY KSJHFKJDSHKJF I'M SO BAD AT LIKE UPDATING AND RESPONDING TO COMMENTS BUT I GENUINELY LOVE U ALL MY SWEET PUMPKINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also i'm gonna update the final part later tonight (after I finish this damn hw assignment) or tomorrow morning!! so stay tuned!!!

thank you for being so lovely and supportive!!

edit: banana long gallery is a real place according to google busan is too wild lmao

xoxo