A knock woke Jonghyun up from his umpteenth nap. Groggy and disoriented, he pushed himself off of his couch and dragged his feet to answer the unwanted guest behind the door. Without bothering to look through the peephole, Jonghyun turned the knob. A gasp resounded from across him as soon as the door opened.

     "Good morning, beautiful." Minho, eyebrows furrowed, greeted his hyung. In response, Jonghyun glared, aware of the sarcasm his best friend was hinting. He knew he looked completely disheveled, and he didn't need anyone's input on the issue.

     "What?" the shorter man grumbled the one word question, earning him a chuckle from the brunette.

     "You're not even going to invite me in?"

     "Why?" he asked, again, with a one word question.

     Minho, fully prepared, displayed the white plastic bag in his right hand. Printed across the bag, a "Thank You" with a smiley face stared at Jonghyun. On cue, a growl escaped from the starving stomach of the older of the two. Reluctantly, the owner of the unhappy stomach stepped aside to let his saving grace enter his apartment.

     "Holy hell..." Minho muttered as soon as he took in the sight before him. Sprawled on the floor, magazines and garments welcomed their owner's visitor. In front of the television, a coffee table overflowed with take-out boxes and empty cola cans. The apartment was small, but the mess amplified the lack of space and Minho, who had a mild case of claustrophobia, felt intimidated.

     "This can't be healthy Jonghyun," he spoke, worry clear in the way his voice emphasized healthy.

     "It's not that bad." Jonghyun rolled his eyes at his guest, making his way to his couch. Minho, still in a state of bewilderment, walked over to the shut curtains and opened them suddenly. Shocked by the abrupt sunlight, Jonghyun jumped and blocked his eyes with his forearm.

     "Are you kidding me?" Minho asked, "This is a pigsty!"

     Approaching his curled up friend, Minho sat on the left of him on the couch. He placed the plastic bag on top of the neglected magazines on the coffee table. Minho's concern for his best friend skyrocketed to the moon. Six months has Jonghyun been acting depressed, and it started a week after breaking it off with his long-time girlfriend.

     It began with the coping stage, when his bubbly and cheerful personality took an increasingly high boost. To live with the fact it was over, Jonghyun began laughing more and smiling more. The oddity of this is what and when he would laugh, or smile. Trivial things made him cackle, and even slight disheartening news induced a smile on his face. The second stage began when one day, he broke off his relationship with his cellular. For weeks, he avoided answering texts and calls. When people knocked on his door, he stayed in bed or the couch, whichever he was on at the time. Pretty soon, he decided to quit from his job of two years. By then, family members and close friends noticed Jonghyun spiraling into a deep depression.

     People visited him from time to time, but none like Minho who visited him four, maybe five, times every week. The younger man cared significantly for his pal, whom he has known since elementary school. Through whatever obstacle Minho faced, Jonghyun held on with him and helped his dongsaeng overcome it, always. Minho's not about to let go of him now.

     "How are you feeling?" Minho placed his palm on his shoulder until Jonghyun's stubbornness surfaced, and it was shrugged off. Sighing, he sat back in the couch and stared straight at the black television screen.

     "You don't have to come anymore," Jonghyun grumbled, "I can take care of myself."

     Instantaneously, Minho laughed at the said comment, pissing off the one who said it. "Jonghyun," he chuckled, looking to his right. "What's the date today?"

     Taken aback, Jonghyun remained silent. The only answer that came out after a handful of minutes later was, "Uhh..."

     "It's April 6." Minho enlightened his confused questionee. Jonghyun's bleached hair swooshed as he turned to look to his left, confused at the hinted importance of the date.

     "Your birthday is in two days." He added, hopeful to earn an interested expression from him. Unfortunately, Jonghyun's reaction was the complete opposite of "interest". "Heh"-ing at Minho, he turned his attention back to the black television screen.

     "You're not going to spend an eventful day like your birthday in here." Minho gestured to the massive mess that was Jonghyun's apartment. "At least not when it's this disorganized."

     "I'm not going to celebrate it, Minho." Jonghyun replied, his eyes stagnant in front of him. "I'm turning twenty-four-years-old, I don't need a party."

     "See?" Minho shook his head. "Do you even hear yourself?"

     "What ar-"

     Cutting Jonghyun off, Minho made sure the elder was going to listen to him.

     "Six months ago," Jonghyun flinched as Minho mentioned it. Yes, he was behind on his dates, but he would never forget how long it's been. "You would have been jumping off the walls if a party was brought up. No," he paused, "you'd be the one planning it. You've changed from the Kim Jonghyun I knew half a year ago."

     "Now," Minho stressed the word, "you're afraid of stepping even one foot out that door. Why? Because you gave up. You gave up on the chance that maybe, someone out there can make you feel the same way she did."

     Minho stopped to read Jonghyun's face. His chin was propped up on his bent arm's hand. His eyes, below his grooved eyebrows, travelled around the room, still uncomfortable with talking about this specific subject.

     "What you don't understand is the concept of possibility. The possibility that someone can treat you better than her." He softened his voice slightly, so that his listener wouldn't feel he was against him. Minho was with him, he had always been.

     By now, Jonghyun's head was off of his palm and he was looking around the room. Minho watched him, nothing else leaving his mouth. The bleached blonde's eyes landed on his best friend's. Round, chocolate eyes locked on each other.

     "What if I understand," Jonghyun spoke softly, "but I'm still not ready?"

     "Then ask yourself," Minho replied, standing up. "When will you be ready? Time waits for no man, Jonghyun. You may never feel ready, and what will you do then?" With that, the taller of the two gathered himself and began to walk towards the front door. He turned the knob and paused in the doorway, "Enjoy your breakfast."

     Jonghyun heard the door shut, and he heard his mind whispering him the question. When will you be ready? The voice echoed in his head for seconds, until in the silence of his apartment, his legs stood up from underneath him. Jonghyun looked up from the ground, and before he knew it, his legs took him to his front door. He reached out to open it, and for a minute, he stopped to absorb the picture of his floor's hallway. In a small, but certain voice, Jonghyun whispered.

     "Now."

     Jonghyun took one step outside his apartment...and then two...three...four... and before he could even grasp the idea of walking out of the doorway, Jonghyun began running. He ran, and ran, down the hallway, down the stairs, and he ran until he caught up with the same tall unwanted visitor from earlier.

     As soon as he reached his target, Jonghyun bent over. He gripped his knees as he gasped for air. It went on for a few seconds, before he straightened himself out. His chest was still rising and falling in short intervals, but he was able to speak, and he had something to say to Minho.

     "I'm ready, now."