Time slowly passed. A few days. Then a week. Then two.

I slowly adjusted to this building, even though I hated it here. I liked the people I met, but in general, I hated everything here. I was lonely without Aron.

Loneliness is painful.

The nights where I found myself crying in bed, Baekhyun would pull a chair up beside my bed and shush me by singing. Within minutes, I would fall asleep. 

I never told Aron this. 

Sure, we Skyped and called and texted each other often, but not everyday. He told me that Nu'est has been busy with helping schools and charities. I couldn't help but feel left out because here I was, the flipin' leader of Nu'est and I wasn't out there helping them. It made me slightly ticked, too. 

Aron didn't check my bag. He didn't see the book inside of it that usually sits on my desk at home. The book with a hidden pocket, that I keep a spare razor in. The second night I was here, I cut. It was just four cuts, but they were deep and they stung my sides. It felt like someone ripped through my flesh with a cheese grater. Ironic that here I was at some stupid rehab center to help me with self-harm, but I was self-harming. However, Baekhyun was reading through my book the next day and the razor fell out. He snatched it up and confronted me about it. This soon turned into a physical argument as I fought for the razor, but Baekhyun grew angry and threw it out our bathroom window. Gone. Out of my reach. 

After the disagreement, I saw Baekhyun sitting on his bed, his knees tucked to his chest. His small body shaking. I noticed he had dark bags under his eyes. I sat beside him, and we talked. That's all we did. We talked until the very early hours in the morning. He looked better after that; Like a weight had been lifted of his shoulders. He told me he missed his boyfriend, and as he did, his soft brown eyes flashed with true sadness. I was surprised. We talked about his lover. Park Chanyeol. Baekhyun told me about the things they had been doing, how long they were dating, the ups and downs of everything. Then, he asked if I had a girlfriend. I surprised myself by laughing. It was a hollow laugh, but it was the best I had. I told him I had no girlfriend, that I had a boyfriend. And his name was Kwaak Aron. I told him everything about Aron. About how much I missed him. I found myself crying into Baekhyun's thin shoulder, him my hair. I told him to not cut again because he had helped me, so I needed to help him. He didn't respond to that.

I heard my phone ringing snapping me out of my thoughts. The ringtone being Aron's rap at the end of Action. I peered at the screen. It was an unknown number. Hesitantly, I answered. "Yobosaeyo?"

There was some shuffling of papers on the other line before the person answered. "Yobosaeyo? Jonghyun?" My brows knitted together as I struggled to indentify the deep male voice. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.I closed it again. My head throbbed as I still tried to figure out who this familiar stranger was. "Jonghyun?" he called my name again.

I swallowed. "Y-Yes?" The other person cleared his throat. I was starting to get a headache now because I still couldn't figure who the hell this was.

"You've been good, I assume?" he asked me. I could tell he only half-cared for my well-being. After a few seconds without an answer, he let out a low chuckle, sending fear tingling throughout me.

"Y-Yes. I've been fine." I force the words out of my mouth. Have I? Have I been fine? Even I didn't know.

"I want to come visit you at your rehab center. Can you give me the address?" the male asked in an almost demanding tone. I narrowed my eyes.

My headache worsened and I had to hold my head and bite my tongue to not moan in pain. "I-I don't mean to be r-rude, but who is this?"

The man scoffed. "This is your father. Or should I say, your step-father." My eyes widened and my heart seemed to stop beating. Bitter hate flooded through me.

"You can't visit." I whispered. I held my head carefully, each breath causing a painful throb to shoot out.

"Excuse me?" he snapped. There was a loud thump in the background.

"You can't visit me." I said louder. Loud enough for him to hear.

"Why not? A father can't visit his little son?"

"I don't want you here. I don't want to see you. Not after what you did." I growled.

He sighed. "Jonghyun-"

"Don't call me that." I demanded in the most stern voice I could make. He chuckled. 

"That was years ago. Get over it." he laughed drily. My blood boiled in rage.

I hung up.