I woke up to the sound of voices – voices that belonged to neither Lay nor Kai nor Sehun. I recognised one of them: the angel I was supposed to tutor, Byun Baekhyun. The other one though, belonged to a woman I hadn’t yet met. The room was white; it was pure white and sort of clinical in a way. That’s it. That’s all I could say to describe it – my head was spinning and my vision was blurry. “Will she be okay?” I heard Baekhyun ask.

The female voice answered him. “Don’t worry she’s fine but…” But what? She trailed off into a series of mumbles and whispers, too quiet for me to hear.

When the room stopped rotating and my vision cleared I discovered I was in a hospital ward. Baekhyun was sitting on the edge of my bed. He’d come to see me. He’d come to see me. “Don’t even think about trying to sit up.” He turned to face me.

“But she said I was fine.” I protested.

“You almost died, Yeongi.” The seriousness of the situation suddenly set in. We sat in silence for a few moments, before he said, “The doctor said you can go home tomorrow. You don’t have to tutor me since…”

I cut him off before he could finish. “I’ll still do it.”

He broke into a relieved smile. “I’m glad. I was looking forward to it.” He winked. “Well, I’ve got to go now. See you tomorrow. I’ll come here and take you to my house – if that’s okay with you.” I nodded. He reached over to squeeze my hand before he said “I’ll see you then. Bye,” Waved, and left. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to wait that long to see him again.

When tomorrow eventually became today after I had waited an agonisingly long and lonely night, I waited an equally long and lonely length of time during the day for Baekhyun to pick me up from the hospital. He arrived precisely at 15:30.

On the journey to his home neither of us spoke much, except to exchange general chitchats and make polite small talk. Since Baekhyun didn’t say anything I began to feel a little bit lonesome. I started to wonder if I should talk to Lay for a little while. Before I could make up my mind, I came across something I wished I hadn’t: a poster in a shop window – not just any poster, though, this one had a photo of Lay printed on it with the words ‘WANTED FOR MURDER’ below it.

I understood the poster when we arrived at Baekhyun’s gargantuan house fifteen minutes later. Almost the second we got through the door, Lay appeared and launched himself at Baekhyun. I screamed. Baekhyun screamed. Lay screamed. We all screamed. Lay tackled the other to the floor, landing on top of him, and clamped his teeth down on Baekhyun’s fragile neck, drawing blood. My feet were glued to their spot on the floor; I couldn’t help him. My throat was sore and dry from all the screaming I’d done; I couldn’t yell at him to stop. Lay’s hands pounded Baekhyun’s chest and face. There was blood everywhere. Terrified tears rolled down Baekhyun’s cheeks and mixed in with the crimson liquid, creating ruby red crystals. “Stop! No! I thought I could trust you! Stop!” Then his horrified cries stopped. His flawless face was smeared with his own blood, and so was his chest and stomach. As per usual, Lay vanished into the atmosphere. Baekhyun wasn’t breathing. I sunk to the floor and let my tears flow.

I hated this place. Why was I even there? It was Lay’s fault! He’d murdered Baekhyun, not me! The people here were crazy. They said I was too. I wasn’t! The staff were nice and friendly; they said they would help me. I didn’t need help though.

I had to share a room with a weird girl called Yoona. I didn’t like her, and she didn’t like me. Lay came to see me every night; we’d talk in our heads for hours and then he’d leave and I’d cry myself to sleep.

My first real visitor came to see me two weeks after I’d been there – two weeks after Baekhyun’s death. His name was Minseok – Kim Minseok – but he said I’ve always called him Xiumin. I didn’t know who he was, but he said we were best friends. I’d never seen him before, yet he had photos of us together. There were ones of us when we were children, playing at the park. There were ones of us at primary school. There were even ones of us, as teenagers, eating at a restaurant. “Do you remember that?” I shook my head – was I supposed to remember all of these events that had supposedly happened to me? He sighed. “You used to love that restaurant. How can you not remember it?”

I shrugged and hung my head. “So, who are you anyway?”

“Did you forget that, too? I told you, I’m Minseok – you call me Xiumin – I…”

I didn’t let him finish; I didn’t want to hear it all again. “I know that – you’ve just told me. Who are you to me? I’m sorry but I don’t remember anything about you at all.”

“It’s alright.” That was a lie – he was on the verge of tears. “It’s not your fault. Since it happened you sort of shut me out of your mind. When I heard you were here I couldn’t resist the thought of seeing you again after all this time. I guess I just thought I might be able to bring you back.”

‘Since what happened? All this time? Bring me back?’ His words were still swimming around in my brain when he left. “Will you come tomorrow?” He nodded a second before he left. For the first time in two weeks, I didn't cry myself to sleep that night. Minseok - no, Xiumin - would be with me every step I took.