I need food. Less than 5 seconds into the hallway and all I could think about was...Samgyupsal. Duboki. Steak. Yanggeng. Anything. I pushed Youngbae out the way so I could ravage the cabinets. 

"Yah, I called the shower first!" Taeyang said, locking the door just as Daesung slammed into it.

"It's yours. I want food." 

"Aish. Can we tell YG to please get us another bathroom. I can't stand waiting on everyone." Daesung said, and sulked over to the sofa.

Back to my rampage of our cupboards. But of course, I couldn't remember the last time either of us went to the market. And Ji's mom had been busy and hadn't stopped by all week. Which meant one thing.

"Aah jinja! All we have is ramen!" 

"Were lucky we have that" Jiyong said.

Ah, why can't we have anything else. I don't want ramen. But no one had money to go out and get something. They didn't look like they were in the mood anyway. Ramen it was. I put the water on to boil and went to my room. I threw off my jacket and shirt. They had attached themselves permanently to my body with all the sweat they absorbed. 

I fell down on my bed and closed my eyes.    

I glanced over at the digital clock. 3:43 am. What?!? Why didn't anyone wake me up?!  Where's my ramen? I sat up and looked around. The light from a street lamp was coming in through my window. I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked like an alien, with blue skin and tiny black eyes. I got up out of bed and went to stand in front of it. My undershirt was wrinkled. It caught the light from outside and made shadows of waves on my stomach. I threw it off. Still so much work to do. My chest was good. Toned. Figures, I worked on my chest a lot. But my arms...they were hopeless. Pull ups. Push ups. Weights. Not even an hour on the treadmill would make them smaller. Or more toned. They were just...blobs. No shape. No definition. I hated them. Ah. And still no abs. I keep slaving away on that treadmill. But dammit nothing disappears. I just want less. I don't even need to have muscle. Dae and Bae can have it. But, can't I something? Instead of this ugly pale skin that just hangs here. I hate gravity. I hate that the rest of them can just take off their shirt at practice. I still see old Seunghyun. I don't want to wear short sleeves. I don't want anyone to tell me I have charisma. I don't want the stylist noona to keep insisting I change clothes. And try on a million things. Really, I just don't want them to touch me. I just want to stay under my jacket. I sat down in front of the mirror, leaning my head back on the bed.

Why did I give everything up? Why did I give her up? Five months and she hasn't called. Or texted. Five months. Five months. But I keep looking at her pictures. I keep playing with our ring. She left me. She just left me. Walked away. Won't answer my calls. When I did call. Did she think she was too good for me? Really? And where is she now? Still in university. Messing around with some loser university guy. And I wasn't good enough? She didn't deserve me. She kept thinking a business major was much better than being an idol. Much tidier huh? Requires no effort to just be a student. She was weak. She wouldn't have lasted anyway. An idols girlfriend has to be special. Has to be willing to keep it a secret. No. She wasn't cut out for it at all. 

I threw her ring at some corner of my room. I heard it hit the wall and land in some clothes. She gave up on me. So she doesn't deserve my thoughts. My head had fallen forward. I saw my feet with their 3 day old socks. Looking up into the mirror I couldn't figure out who I was looking at. It wasn't Top. It wasn't Choi Seunghyun. The number of times I blinked didn't change the person staring at me. 36. 37. 38. My eyelids were getting heavy. But my mind refused sleep. I reached under my bed and pulled out a green bottle. The taste was like my favorite snack from childhood. Almost every night for two weeks I enjoyed it. Alone. As I stared at myself in the mirror. No one ever came to join me. Or ask what was wrong. Or why. Just me. The alien. And Mario. And Chaeun. We would talk all night about Biggie vs Tupac. Who had the better lyrics. Who was more clever with their rhyming. The end of the bottle. I had to stop. I managed to get a new bottle in every two days. But it was starting to lose its effect. I just want to sleep. To shut off. Power down. Forget. Close. My. Eyes.