THIRTY-NINE

Luhan could hardly comprehend what was happening. In long minutes that blurred past in seconds, they were standing in front of the bottomless ditch, with Kyungsoo’s coffin suspended above it. Clouds were gathering together in dark grey mounds, hiding the sunlight and basking the cemetery in gloomy darkness.

Luhan found himself against Junmyeon; staring blankly at the glossy coffin strapped with thick ropes, ready to be lowered into the ditch.

Kyungsoo’s body, being prepared to disappear underground. Forever.

They would never see his face again. Luhan would never look up to his bland smile, hold him while he purged and cried, his hair and kiss his forehead in every attempt to make Kyungsoo feel loved. He would never hear his soft voice, share his bitter laughter, hold him in the hopes that he could make his friend happy once more.

There would be no more Kyungsoo.

The person, the human, the sweet and loving being that was consumed by every disorder he could absorb, would be six feet underground, in a coffin.

Dead.

Luhan gulped back his tears, and squeezed Junmyeon’s hand, not feeling any less unsettled when the elder returned the gesture.

And it’s my fault.

He’d had so many opportunities to save Kyungsoo – to tell someone, to force his fingers from his mouth, to stay with him no matter what the consequences and convince him that he was more important than a career – but he had only taken them when it was far too late. Because he was a coward.

How could I have chosen our job over his life?

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, as the coffin slowly began lowering into the ditch. Bit by bit, it inched out of sight, and Jongin’s sobs grew louder, as he fought against Sehun to stop Kyungsoo from leaving – for good.

Junmyeon Luhan’s neck, “don’t be sorry. You made him happier than any of us ever could have.”

“No,” Jongin sobbed, “Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo…”

Sehun yanked him up as his body threatened to collapse, coffin finally disappearing from view, and pulled him in a firm embrace. Jongin gasped and cried into his shoulder, and Sehun could only shake his head, and mourn with him.

“He’s gone,” Yifan whispered, fingers scraping at the thorns on the rose he was holding. “Woosung’s gone, Kyungsoo’s gone, everyone’s gone…”

“We’re here,” Zitao whispered, taking the elder’s empty hand in his own. “We’ll never leave.”

Those words, however, did not reach Luhan’s ears, and were deflected by the dark thoughts of suicide clouding his mind.

It’s my fault. I couldn’t save him. He’s gone – Kyungsoo’s gone.

How can I possibly live without him?

How stupidly selfish, he thought to himself, that he could possibly feel so hopeless about his loss. Why was he grieving and feeling sorry for himself, anyway? He wasn’t Kyungsoo’s boyfriend. He wasn’t Kyungsoo’s parents.

I’m his murderer.

The thought was too burdensome to handle.

I should have died. He was loved. I never was.

Luhan shut his eyes, breaths shaking, as the other members stepped forward to toss letters, flowers and tears into the grave.

But Junmyeon loves me. He said he loves me. Junmyeon said—

Junmyeon said he was fat.

Maybe I don’t have a reason to live.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Luhan broke away from Junmyeon’s embrace and stepped forward, to the edge of the grave. He looked down into it, tears dropping into the deep ditch, and shuddered as he saw Kyungsoo’s photograph on the coffin.

He would never see that smile, ever again – fake or not.

With trembling fingers, Luhan reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sniffling. He clutched at it for a few seconds, before shutting his eyes, and tossing it in. The paper fell heavily, and landed right beside the coffin, with only the title of the folded sheet visible.

Diagnosis of Eating Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified.

And in tiny, handwritten script at the bottom,

With love, Luhan.

He stepped back, head throbbing, and turned around, walking away from the heart-wrenching sight. It was too much to handle, too much to sink in.

Kyungsoo couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be.

He’s gone.

Luhan looked up, and locked gazes with Minseok. He froze, breath hitching in his throat, and tears leaked from the corners of their eyes simultaneously.

Minseok smiled.

“I hope he feels beautiful, now,” Minseok whispered, pulling Luhan into a warm hug for the very last time. Luhan his hair, inhaled his scent, and kissed the top of his head, cherishing the moment before it crumbled beneath his fingertips.

“Minseok?” Luhan choked. The elder responded, inclining his head and staring up into his teary eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Luhan continued, voice quavering. “Don’t—don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

Minseok, choked up with tears, tried to force out the reply that he didn’t realise the true importance of. Luhan waited, praying, hoping that Minseok would reply, would say something – anything – that would tear the thoughts from his mind.

Please, say something. Give me a reason to stay.

But it never came.

His decision was made.

Minseok nodded slowly, and finally pulled away, and Luhan felt the warmth disappearing from his body as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. He took one last glance at the people crowded around the grave – Kyungsoo’s family, his friends, and the ten band mates crying into one another, holding each other, supporting one another. The members that had loved him endlessly, that had made every effort they could to turn his warped mind around – yet, despite their tireless efforts, failed.

“I’m going to find a bathroom,” he said weakly, so quietly, he wasn’t sure if anyone had even heard. But before he could make sure, he turned around, slowly, and walked away – away from Junmyeon, from Minseok, from whatever was left of Kyungsoo that he’d torn away. From his life, his love, his broken shards of hope that he’d finally accepted as equally useless as himself.

There was no turning back now.

Luhan had been walking, trudging, dragging his feet along the pavement for almost forty minutes straight. If any members had noticed his absence, it was far too late to chase him, and if Luhan was to change his mind, he was much too distanced to return. All he could do was fight against his conscience – or, really, let his disorder fight his conscience – and push forward. Continue on, until he finally found peace and composure.

Until he was finally, finally – after all of his struggles and battles to fight the inevitable…free.

The thought of freedom was enough to keep his feet moving.

There’s nothing to live for, anyway.

From day one, Junmyeon had always thought of him as fat. From day one, he had only grown and developed to be broken back down again. He was useless. He was nothing.

Not even Minseok cared enough to chase him back to safety.

I’m useless. I’m pathetic. I’m fat. I don’t deserve to be alive.

His hands reached out to brush along the rough, metallic rails along the bridge, fingers examining each and every bump and chip in the wearing paint. He closed his eyes briefly, sharp edges digging into his soft skin, and gulped.

All of this pain – it’ll all be gone.

No more pain.

You can do this.

He opened his eyes. On one side of him, cars sped across the bridge, whirring past in vibrant colours and loud squeals of tyres; and on the other side, was peace.

Escape.

Gentle waters and spinning visions of running, jumping, falling, free. Hands choking necks and screams of silence, sinking into velvet waters and breaking through the surface into emptiness. Crisp air, soundless smiles, lightweight steps and shuddering breaths.

Free, free, free.

His steps slowed to a halt halfway across the bridge, and he turned to face the edge, cold hands tightening around the railings. He managed a smile at the thought of how many people jumped off bridges, yet the lack of prevention of suicides – how could the railings still be so low?

So I can finally escape.

It was somewhat sickening to think that people committed suicide publically every day, yet nobody bothered to stop them.

Nobody can take this away from me now.

He shuffled his feet along the tar, cherishing the feeling of ground under his shoes. He was sure it’d be the last time he would feel solidity beneath him, and despite his certainty that he wouldn’t miss it, he wanted to appreciate it for the short time he had left to live.

Although the thought of fleeing from his pain was tempting, a tiny part of him was still hoping that someone would stop him. He wanted Jongin to scream for him to stop, for Minseok to tearfully convince him that he was worthy of life, for Junmyeon to seize him by the waist and force him into a kiss that turned his mind around. He was fearful, unsure whether he was prepared to end his life or not, and a tiny edge of hope kept his head turning back, to see if anyone had followed him.

There was nobody.

Nobody wants me to stay.

It was a shame, really. To think that just days ago, Junmyeon had confessed his love – yet still, he hadn’t noticed Luhan’s absence. That Luhan had lost himself in Minseok’s kiss, yet still, his best friend had let him go without a second thought.

His eyelids drifted closed as the soft breeze gently toyed with his hair, blonde locks drifting up and down upon his forehead. It was calming, soothing, a gentle consolation before everything was over.

There were so many things he wanted to do.

Before he was overcome with his disorders, he had so many aspirations and dreams. He wanted to sing and dance, meet his fans, create songs and albums and perform like a real professional. He wanted to travel the world, to go to places he’d never even dreamed of before. To smile, to laugh, to fall in love.

It was nice to feel Junmyeon’s care. But only now he could understand what Kyungsoo had felt – how could he love someone wholly, if he didn’t even love himself?

For the last time, before he let everything go, he wanted someone to say goodbye to.

But there was no point. He wasn’t worthy of anything.

He just had to let go.

Just let go.

With shaking limbs, he clambered over the railings, knuckles whitening around the metal bars. His feet felt unstable on the small ledge, wavering in the wind and legs weak, but he held on tightly.

Looking down at the water made him sick to the stomach.

Just let go.

He tilted his chin to look up at the sky. The clouds were building up fast, rain threatening to fall at any moment. The sun was hidden beneath them – there was no bright blue sky to give him faith.

It was just dark. Grey. Empty. Like everything else that had replaced the pieces within him his mind had destroyed.

Just let go.

As if he was already dying, memories clouded his eyes, and he inhaled the moist air deeply, eyelids fluttering shut.

The last time he’d spoken to Kyungsoo, the night of his return. He’d sat next to him – the last time he ever felt his warmth – and held his face, touched his chest. Feeling for change in his body, after trying to purge.

“Fine. Whatever. Nice to know you give a that I might be alive tomorrow morning.”

He didn’t expect Kyungsoo to be speaking so literally – because, frankly, Luhan had expected him to be alive the next morning. And the morning after, and after, and their lives would continue on and on until they were thin and happy. He knew death was practically inevitable – but he hadn’t expected Kyungsoo to go so soon.

Just let go.

The first time he ever witnessed Kyungsoo purging. The first time he’d held him in his arms, and told him he was sorry. The way Kyungsoo had fallen back into his embrace, vomit on his lips, body frail, and fallen asleep. The way his bones stuck out from underneath his shirt as he bent over, trembling with every retch, gasping for breath, tears in his eyes.

The runner that called him clumsy and fat. The first time Junmyeon had commented on his weight, and began his long journey to the edge of a bridge. The cold look he’d given him in the practice room, the way he’d snapped at him at dinner.

A pinch of salt creates a pinch of fat.

Just let go.

Tossing water at Zitao in the shower, oblivious to the possibility the younger could have been staring at his scars and bones. Laughing and crying after their debut, with the love of their fans enclosing his heart with irreplaceable warmth; kissing and holding Minseok under the sunset; finally being told he was loved, by Junmyeon.

Junmyeon – the one who had caused everything.

Did he really love him? Did he simply break through Luhan’s walls and convince him he was loved, for the sake of destroying what he’d first created?

Just let go.

He was aware he could been hurting people. Maybe Junmyeon really did love him. Maybe Minseok needed his support. Jongin had lost a lover; Yifan had lost two friends.

Could they handle another loss?

It’s not as if I’m a big loss, anyway.

Just let go.

Would he find peace, in Heaven? Would he be sent to Hell? Would he be given another chance, reborn into something better – or would there be nothing at all?

Just let go.                                                         

He wondered if anyone would miss him. s, his family, his friends – they would all be better off, wouldn’t they?

Just let go.

“I can do this,” he whispered, fingers clutching around the railings. Cars sped past behind him, the movement rustling the hair on the back of his head. He could hear birds, breaths of wind, voices telling him to push through and let go – let go of it all.

One step; that’s all it takes.

To eliminate the voices in his head, to stop the cutting, to take away the pain. To kill off the disorder, the not otherwise specified disorder, that had been gripping onto his neck for much too long.

It’ll all be over.

Just let go.

Tears he hadn’t realised were forming finally slipped from his eyes.

Am I really ready to end everything? After trying, hoping – is this really the end?

There’s nothing to live for.

Just let go.

With a shuddering breath, he turned his head for the last time, just to see, to glimpse at something, someone, for the last time, before it was all over.

And, in the very distance, too far, too late, too blurred to see – was Kyungsoo.

So far away, too far away to catch him as he fell – yet still, right beside him.

He tilted his head lightly, and gazed down at the breaking waters beneath him. He could feel it – everything was gone. He was weightless, he was free, he was empty and warm. Cool breezes blew away his tears, and a shuddering breath against his ear whispered – you’ve been so strong, Luhan. Just let go.

A light and inexistent kiss, Kyungsoo’s smile, and everything fell away beneath him. Luhan smiled, softly, gently, exhaled the last of his pain…

And let go.

Free.

✏ [ a/n ] ...did you guys appreciate the long chapter ahahaHHAhahAHAHAHAHAHHAH YES THAT JUST HAPPENED THAT JUST HAPPENED HSHAHAHHAHAHA YOU ALL HATE ME NOW DON'T YOU. FEAR NOT, MY DEARS. THIS IS NOT THE END. JUST YET. epiloge will be coming in 6-10 days. and then it'll be the end. DISCLAIMER KYUNGSOO DID NOT COME BACK TO LIFE HE WAS JUST A MIRAGE OK. oh my god. i can't believe this is it. here i am posting the final chapter. where all the goes down. that's it. there's your plot coming spinning down and crashing into nothing. i know you guys all hate me. but don't hate me too much, because our journey's end is approaching so fast. sigh. i'm going to miss updating this, i'm going to miss you all so much. i love you for everything and thank you for all the support i've gotten so far. i won't make the a/n too long so you guys can wail and mourn about this awful ending (even though it's not the ending WE STILL HAVE THE EPILOGUE THERE IS STILL AN EPILOGUE LEFT SO DON'T RUN OFF YET!!!) thank you all for your support and upvotes and subscribes and commenters you mean the world to me even though i'll be upset if you guys all unsub when this story finishes LMAO but anyway, i should address the luhan issue. it didn't affect me so much really, the jessica news made me immune. but cheer up, guys. exo is happy. and luhan is happy. just wait for the news to pass, wait for something to done, because something will be done. this will be fixed. stay strong, EXO-L! okay i'll go now OH GOD LAST CHAPTER TO BE UPDATED NEXT WEEK SCREAMS I'SM SSOS SCARE DOKAY BYE GUYS I LOEVE YOU

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