It was getting worse.

His throat was not in a good condition and he could hear it in his voice. It was hoarse, raw, not clean, not as nice as it once used to be. Sighing, he put his guitar down and buried his face in his bruised hands. For someone like him, his voice was all he had.

Something was missing; it felt as though that something was that primary element holding him together from the inside. With every passing second, he felt the imaginary strings breaking.

Myungsoo’s face floating in front of his closed eyes was not making him feel any better. The face was so worn out, pale and lifeless and the eyes were b with tears and Sunggyu knew it was all his doing. He hated himself for what he had done to the younger all those years ago when they were both just crossing the line between puberty and adulthood. Back then, Sunggyu saw Myungsoo as someone broken, someone who needed a little help to be fixed.

Ironically, Sunggyu’s little help only led Myungsoo to become a -addicted, pathetic copy of that broken boy he used to be. It all started that night when they met for the first time when Myungsoo was getting beaten up by a group of wannabe-thugs that didn’t really look strong but the boy was unable to fight alone against the five of them.

Back there, Sunggyu felt a tiny urge to do some justice; normally he wasn’t the type to stick his nose into other people’s business. He ended up with a bruised shoulder and torn lip, but managed to help Myungsoo get away. He didn’t even think that the younger would become someone almost as dear to him as the drug he himself was back then already long addicted to.

“Are you okay?” Sunggyu asked, as soon as he was able to catch his breath.

The other looked rather irritated than grateful, though. “You didn’t have to.” He said monotonously, looking away immediately.

Sunggyu sneered in irony. So much for trying to be a good guy for once, he thought. “You looked like you needed help.” He stated dryly. “In fact, you still do.”

The other indeed looked as though he was about to pass out any second; shaking, pale, averting his gaze, bleeding. Underneath all that sweat and blood, Sunggyu could see the other was undeniably handsome; it almost made him want to stare. But the pain jolting from his shoulder and the blood oozing from his lip were reminding him not to get involved with the guy any more than necessary. It could cost him his life one day.

He was just going to help him and go away.

Help in his own way.

“Anything broken?” he asked, when he received no reaction.

The other just shook his head, “I don’t think so.” He said in a small voice, still avoiding Sunggyu’s gaze.

“You know, I’m not going to interrogate you, but you look like you need to loosen up a bit.” Sunggyu said then and with slight difficulties, he began to search his pockets.

Finally finding what he was looking for, he shook the tiny bag with small amount of fine white powder in it in front of the boy’s face; he instantly turned even paler.

Noticing that, Sunggyu frowned. “Never taken anything?” he asked.

“No.” the other responded right away. “And not going to.” He added.

“Oh come on. You look like death, let’s be honest. I’m sure you feel even worse.” Sunggyu cooed, “Have some and you’ll be good.”

The boy then without saying anything got up and started walking away. Sunggyu chuckled at the sight of that. So much for trying to help him ease up, he thought.

“If you change your mind, from time to time I sing at the bar down the road.” He called after him. He never turned back, but Sunggyu had this feeling that he’d change his mind and come see him.

They all usually did.

And there he sat, in that bar down the road which he wished he never told Myungsoo about. He should have just left him with his troubles, he shouldn’t have been so selfishly trying to see that face again. All those years back, he didn’t know how much he’d regret calling after him even after his wordless leave.

All those years back, he made fun of all the anti-drug mass lectures they were given at school every year, but ironically he came to see their point probably unlike those who’d never touched anything. The goods he made by singing never really made him feel better; maybe a little from the start.

As time was going by, he’d grown weary of the constant fear of withdrawal symptoms striking if he had not taken his drug for a longer period of time.

Apart from Myungsoo, there were others who’d been enthralled by Sunggyu’s way of talking, breathing, convincing to see him again. Those, though, had never made him want to stop what he was doing; they just didn’t have that something that Myungsoo had. Myungsoo had managed to make him want to stop after Sunggyu was forced to see how much he had made him change. Sadly enough, by then it was too late for the both of them.

Sunggyu was a college dropout. School was something he had always been forced to; not by his parents, though, as they cared about school about as much as Sunggyu did, but his grandparents were annoyingly strict, pushing him to do something they were never able to accomplish themselves. Once he was fed up with the constant nagging, niggling and unnecessary comments on everything he did wrong, he simply dropped out and almost completely cut off contact with the remainders of his family. From time to time, though, he was getting birthday messages. Even on days different from his birthday.

The story of him coming to first use of drugs wasn’t something he was proud of; frankly, he wasn’t proud of anything he had done ever since he was born.

He was a waste of skin, of space, a pathetic excuse for a human being, an abomination. If there was anything worth of him, it was the voice.

But even that was running from him now.

“Good job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

All of a sudden, even through the phone, the voice sounded too full of itself to Dongwoo’s ear. He made a face and continued listening to the man. What he certainly couldn’t deny was that the job was well done, even better than expected.

“Though, I do think there might be a problem, sir.”

Dongwoo sighed. “What is it?” Petty problems, he thought; there was nothing that couldn’t be solved with a small amount of money given to the right people.

“He saw me when I pushed him off that roof. I heard he hasn’t died yet, too.”

It was ridiculous how scared the man suddenly sounded. Everyone was so selfish, Dongwoo himself was the most of them all.

“That’s all right. I didn’t even tell you to kill him, though of course it could have happened. Don’t worry too much, my friend, you’ll get away. Don’t forget who you’re working with.”

“I know, it’s not like I don’t trust you, but you must understand… You have my life in your hands now.”

“Good to know you’re aware of that too.” Dongwoo laughed, “I’ll call you again. If, by chance, Mr. Kim wakes up, remembers your face and the police come t