A/N – Before you begin with the chapter, I just want to say thank you. To get 6 upvotes and 39 subscribers on a fic that does not even have a pairing indicated is amazing to me. I sort of thought that I wouldn’t get many readers for this, maybe 5 or so, but I did and I’m grateful to you. I feel so though I have made a mark of sorts as a writer and it made me all giddy and stuff. Thank you. Now enough mushy stuff, on with the chapter~~

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As the driver drove them to their destinations, the various homes of the idols and the final pit stop being the dorm, Hyukjae kept his eyes shut. He felt the car stop and he knew it was Siwon’s turn to get off as Shindong had already gone out at his own apartment where he lived with his wife Nari.

There was a hesitation as the door opened but before Siwon stepped out, he s his hand around the headrest of the front passenger seat and squeezed Hyukjae’s shoulder gently. He got no response though, not even a turn of the head. All he got was a slight stiffening of the shoulder muscle but the boy remained quiet and reclosed.

Siwon sighed and got off, shutting the door behind him. he starred at the heavily tinted glass, hiding Hyukjae from him. he didn’t want to let it go like this. This time it felt different. This time Hyukjae was affected harder than intended, then wanted.

This time, he didn’t know how to make it better.

When they reached the dorm, Hyukjae was again the first to get out and press the basement button for the elevator. He sighed when he felt the remaining members crowd around him, some talking randomly about the upcoming promotions and hectic schedules while others on the phone to their own respective managers about their solo activities along with the group activities.

And then there was Donghae, who did not understand why his best friend was so quiet and bound up to him, snaking his arms around him, back-hugging the slimmer-than-ever man.

The door to the elevator slid open with a ding and Hyukjae couldn’t have been happier because he knew the clueless five year old aka Donghae, would be whining to him about something or the other about his melancholic attitude unless distracted. He just didn’t want to talk about it.

He just didn’t want to talk.

Why should he? It’s not like they cared.

No one seemed to care about the emotional turmoil the raven haired man was in. No one seemed to realize how he was rapidly sinking through the quicksand of depression, not even trying to escape it.

They crowded inside and someone pressed the buttons for their respective apartment floors, 11 and 12.

Even though there was talking and laughing, there was something missing in that metal cocoon and no