The city moves by lifelessly, as still as the remains of an abandoned house.

There are coughs, giggles, words being thrown around, but even when Myungsoo can hear them, they don’t quite reach him. He is pressed in to his seat between a rather voluptuous woman whispering excitedly into her hand phone and a reserved businessman with his lips tightly drawn into a line, files placed orderly on his lap, and thoughtfully taciturn as Myungsoo is sure he always is.

Behind the heads of tired citizens, the orange sky emanates a warm glow. Buildings traverse the transparent window before disappearing out of sight again. More buildings pass by.

Myungsoo does not know what he is doing.

He looks at himself, concentrating hard on what reflects on the panel before the picture of a perfect city, the ghost of his sitting figure suddenly clear to him. The figure watches him, too, clueless, exhausted and empty. A dull throb ades his temple and breaks him out of his fallow state of mind. He closes his eyes, hoping to expel the intrusion. Happy thoughts, he tells himself.

All that comes to him is the smile dancing on Sungyeol’s lips, once upon their time when everything had been absolutely perfect.

He was greedy.

The headache seems to deepen. He sighs, the darkness of his closed eyelids lighting up with images of Sungyeol, happy, younger, his. Long ago, he had already given up all hopes of ever seeing that smile in places other than his memories.

When that shout had left Sungyeol’s lips, he knew everything they had built together in the span of their relationship - the shared coffee mugs, the playful nudges, the kisses that hid a deeper understanding - all of that, was over. All, in that one moment, that break in their once so impervious connection, now so feeble and painful-

Why are you so damned selfish, Myungsoo...?

In that one line Sungyeol had conveyed so much resignation, so much heartache and disappointment. It made Myungsoo feel as repulsive as a rotting fish, and he had sunk into himself with a slow, shivering exhale. He knew it wasn’t a question, because Sungyeol had left his house in a flurry before he could call him back, tell Sungyeol that he was sorry and that he needed him, he wouldn’t accept the job now if he was going to lose the one person that made him happy, please stay. But in the end, stubborn shreds of his pride lay strewn on the ground Sungyeol stomped on. Myungsoo knew that even as Sungyeol was delirious and hurt, he was clear on one thing. One thing that had changed everything that Myungsoo had ever believed would be permanent.

After that day, Myungsoo never saw Sungyeol again.

The only way Myungsoo knows how to comfort himself is by telling his heart that it was inevitable. But that does nothing to stop it from thrashing around in his chest, ripping out of place on its own selfish accord. Jagged edges of broken glass from something once so beautiful cut deep into his soul, ripping away at the remains ruthlessly, relentlessly. Despondence set upon him like a shroud, taking the light air away and leaving nothing but his own dank, moist exhales to breathe in again.

His mind told him, must Sungyeol have been so important? Why couldn’t he be anything but the frivolous, life-loving soul he was? That would have made it easier, because perhaps then, Myungsoo would not be as plagued with dreadful thoughts as he was now. There was never a moment free of guilt and remorse, for he feared that he had ruined what life was to Sungyeol. He never wanted to drain those lips of their smile. He never wanted to bring tears to those eyes. Never.

Is this worth it? A tiny voice asks him. He recognises it as his own, and wonders how his once confident, steady voice had reduced to a mere quiet whisper. He doesn’t answer. A part of him doesn't want to.

He had known the answer ever since Sungyeol left. But with life, time waits for no man. It had been too late. He knows, he knows, he knows.

The train continues its journey, and the city flits by just like yesterday, a week or a month before. Myungsoo knows he is tired. Tired of pretending that everything is okay, that he didn’t miss the excitement in his life, the bubbling anticipation of change, of the adrenaline high that came with the lanky boy who smiled like it was as easy as breathing.

And what Myungsoo would give, to have him back.

Ding.

He tightens his grip on his suitcase.

The doors open, and Myungsoo alights.