"Jonghyun." Minho's eyes flicked back and forth between Jonghyun and I, before settling on the ground.

"Minho,don't worry. He's...he's really special to me, and he understands that I can't tell him a lot of things." Jonghyun moved closer to the other 'couple', just a few steps. The distance was enough for 'Taeyeon' to cringe,clearly uncomfortable with the presence of strangers. 

"So he doesn't...know..?" Jonghyun shook his head roughly, patting Minho's shoulder lightly with a small smile.

"I wouldn't tell, even if he is my boyfriend, Minho. So is this..." I felt awkward, watching Jonghyun interact with the taller boy; I'd only heard of him once or twice, and I was clearly out of the loop here. I looked over when I noticed Taeyeon twitching as he stood next to Minho, eyes nervous as they stared at the puddle next to his wedge-clad feet. 

"This is Taeyeon; Taeyeon....jagiya, this is Jonghyun." The smaller boy jerked up as his name was spoken softly, looking over at Jonghyun before nodding. Beads of sweat were rolling down the side of his face and neck, even as his hands and knees were racked with rough shivers. I could see large red marks on his body now, deep maroon splotches and crusted blood settled in middle of the bruises I'd noticed earlier. 

"You're very-"

"Minho!" The boy's voice was broken as he shouted, cracking at it hit the end. He insistently tugged on Minho's shoulder and the hem of his shirt, loud whines seeping from his throat as his body shook. "Minho, I-!" The boy couldn't speak, his mouth clamping shut on the words.

"Shh, jagiya, you're okay. Come on." Minho pulled the boy into his car, holding him tightly as he thrashed about, not wanting to let go of the older boy. Minho didn't have to look back at us for us to know that the conversation was done. I looked back to the doors of the building, reaching out to hold Jonghyun's hand and pull him back. 

When I pulled his hand lightly at first, he didn't move. I pulled again, saying his name. He still didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the car, Minho now in the backseat with Taeyeon; Their yells coming through the windows of the car as Jonghyun stood and stared. His eyes were wet, filled with fear and at the same time, some form of apprehension. 

"Jonghyun." I called his name again, moving forward to wrap my arms around his shoulders, my chest against his back.

Tears fell from his eyes as Taeyeon screamed; I didn't want to look. I didn't want to but for my sake and Jonghyun's sanity I had to.

Taeyeon was fighting with Minho, trying to grab something. It wasn't until the light in the car flashed over Taeyeons hand that I realized it was a needle. There was something in it, some kind of liquid, and it was spilling as the two fought over it.

Minho was screaming, tears tracking down his own face, as he trying to hold Taeyeon down. As I watched the pair I started to piece it together. It wasn't an addict-pusher relationship; Minho didn't want to be the pusher. He was trying to get Taeyeon to let go. 

Jonghyun let out a gasp, immediately clamping his mouth shut, trying to hold in his small sobs. I could see his eyes barely flick down to how own wrists.

"Why do people do this, Jinki?" His voice was soft, cracking as he forced the words out with a shaky, breathy voice.

"I...I don't know." He whined, balling and unballing his fists at his sides, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Jinki, I need-" I let go of him, forcefully turning him around to face me before I grabbed his jaw.

"No." He was already panicking, his breath coming in short gasps as tears cascaded down his cheeks from his red, worn out eyes. The look on his face said what he couldn't- he didn't want to face this. He didn't want to know there were other people hurting themselves. He didn't want to know that he wasn't the only one hurting. 

"Jinki-" I shook my head, backing away from him. 

"I'm not doing this tonight, Jonghyun. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. I love you, more than you know, and you've become a part of me overt the past three years. You know I can't watch you do this. I don't want to watch you tear yourself up because you've gotten to see someone else go through the pain. Other people feel it, just like you, but you need to learn to handle it.

"Jinki, I..." He looked up at me, coming back up to hug me. " I need it , Jinki, you don't under-"

"I don't understand?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice now; His face sunk immediately as he looked back up at me.

"I didn't mean it like that-" I could hear the car door slam, but neither Jonghyun or I turned to look. Neither of us wanted to see Taeyeon or Minho now that they'd stopped fighting.

"Didn't you?" Taeyeon's voice was quiet now, still rough and cracking. He held an empty bottle, a cotton ball, and the stopper from a syringe in his hands, throwing them in the garbage can that sat a few feet away from us. 

"What?" Minho was still in the car; When I looked over, I could see him sitting there, tears still running down his face, his lip split and a bruise covering his left eye and part of his nose.

"Everyone means what they say. You meant what you said." Taeyeons voice shook roughly, almost as hard as his body did now. His hair was matted, the soft sheen gone from the earlier actions in the car. His knuckles were bruised now; A new red patch on his arm had appeared, the area still bleeding and freshly swollen. His lips were dry and cracking, his shoulder was bruised more now, though it could've been the extra light being shed on the boys skin now that made it seem so.

"No, I didn't mean to...say that to him. He understands, he just...I just..." I didn't let Jonghyun take my hand, knowing it was just going to lead to more begging and pleading. I didn't want to watch him do this to himself. Every time he started this, it always ended the same. He always left with fresh new lashes somewhere on his body; he never wanted to leave without making me see him. It was revolting.

When I first met Jonghyun, he was sweet, albeit weird. He was someone I thought was friends with everybody, because he would say hello, or good morning to everyone, he would hug random people if they were left crying in the halls. He was dorky, and cute. I didn't know about anything back then. I didn't know how he saw himself; I didn't know about his revulsion towards mirrors. I didn't know how much he hated his looks.  Seeing him now, I almost wish things were still that way. Seeing him now, I know that he would've been better off if I hadn't been around. I became his diary, he would tell me everything, he never left a thing out. But he never once actually addressed why he cut himself. Why he practically tore himself apart. The more he spoke to me, the more 'okay' he thought cutting was. He thought that, if he could talk to someone, he would be fine, because he could just empty his heart out after the horrifying process and be fine. 

"He what? He understands? How could he? He doesn't have a scratch on his entire body; He's too clean. His eyes say enough. You can't expect me to believe that he understands. Minho's told me about you, you know." This time Taeyeon turned to look at me; Thin, shaking finger pointed towards me as he wobbled, eyes unfocused.