The weather darkens even more. Thunder roars and lightning strikes. The room is dark; lightning illuminates the walls in glaring flashes of light. In between the flashes, Youngjae notices the change in the man’s demeanor. His expression is now frighteningly dark. The younger male could feel sinister eyes piercing into the very core of his soul. This isn’t the Daehyun he loved. This isn’t the man he hated. This is the nightmare he feared.

Holding his breath, Youngjae skittishly makes his way out of their room. His attempt at escape is hindered as the man—this stranger—roughly grabs his arm. Youngjae shakes off the other’s grip with an equal amount of force and shot him a look of disgust. With some difficulty, he navigates through the dark corridor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he hears behind him. With swift movements, he hurriedly walks to another room. The stranger runs to him with heavy footsteps. He violently clutches Youngjae’s shoulder to turn him around, but his attempt is thwarted as his prey forcefully shoves his hand away with his arm.

“Don’t touch me.”

The assailant sharply turns his head to the side and scoffs. Seizing the brief moment of freedom, Youngjae reaches for the rusty knob and opens the door.

He enters the room and turns on an old lamp. It was a cheap substitution for sunlight but it served its purpose nonetheless. He looks around with aloof eyes—his old room. He hasn’t been in this room since Daehyun offered to sleep together in the same room, on the same bed. Dust and cobwebs have gathered at every inch of the room. There was a thick layer of dust on the mirror. Youngjae almost couldn’t recognize his own reflection. Did he really look like that? He supposes anyone would look just as haggard if they were to experience the same amount of suffering he had to endure.

He never wants the painful memories to utterly overwhelm the blissful memories. But sometimes he lets it happen. And he hates himself for it. He hates himself for being so weak and so afraid.

The stranger begins to yell incoherently at him; Youngjae audaciously interrupts his shouting.

“Why are you like this?” he questions with a tone of pure desperation. “Why?”

“Me?” Daehyun snaps back with contempt. “Why?” In a rage, he grabs onto Youngjae’s arm and pushes him away with brute force, making him stumble backwards.

Youngjae regains his balance but not his voice. He is speechless. He can never communicate with this side of Daehyun whose words and actions have no meaning. He doesn’t even understand why he tries. Maybe the beautiful memories he harbors in the depths of his mind give him hope.

He misses the moments when they ate his favorite green tea ice cream together. Daehyun would always pretend to feed him but eat the spoonful himself. He misses the moments when they took pictures together. He would always strike a stupid pose, and Daehyun would follow suit. He misses the moments when they would sing together.  They would always exchange gazes full of affection while singing each note.

He wanted so much for reality to have mercy. He wanted so much for everything to be a dream.

But this is reality. And reality sympathizes with no one.

This stranger is still shouting at him, but what surprises Youngjae is the fact that he is shouting back. With both hands, Daehyun grabs his head in anguish. He turns around and throws his fist at the mirror behind him. Youngjae reflexively brings his hands to his mouth in a silent gasp, stricken with raw terror. With a loud crack, the mirror splits into pieces among pieces, and any hope of returning to those halcyon days is shattered.

Youngjae hears Daehyun breathing heavily. He, on the other hand, doesn’t dare make a sound.

After recovering from the initial shock at the sudden outburst, he slowly walks towards the man, each step filled with caution. This isn’t the Daehyun that he knows, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t his body. Youngjae doesn’t want him hurt; he gently takes Daehyun’s bleeding hand and steadily finds his voice.

“Let’s go wrap up your h-” Not wanting to hear his suggestion, now injured stranger silently pulls his hand away.

With his injured hand, Daehyun roughly pulls off the ring from his other hand and flings it at the floor. Youngjae is bewildered. No matter how much of a rage he was in, Daehyun has never done that before.

Youngjae looks at the silver ring on the ground. It was tainted with blood. With an unreadable expression, he looks down at the ring on his own hand. The day Daehyun bought them matching rings was the day he promised him a love that would last forever. Youngjae didn’t know forever had an end.

“Get out.” His words came out as a whisper.

Without a word, Daehyun left the house.

And he never came back.