He sat on the floor in the furthest corner of his bedroom. The room was dark—all the curtains were drawn and all the lights were turned off. There was something comfortable about hiding in darkness, away from all the blinding light. Strangely, he had always thought that somehow he could see himself more clearly in the dark, reflecting over his mishaps. He was reminded of the hours he spent in the closet, back then during their dorm days, agonizing about the mistakes he made during broadcast for hours.

Only now he hated himself perhaps a million times more than then.

He had screwed up when the others put their trust on him. He was supposed to be the one who held the fort. He was supposed to be the one who protected the group while his comrades were disappearing from the public eye for a while, following their duties as good citizens.

He had failed—and miserably at that.

Oh, he did put their name out there of course—but all for the wrong reasons.

He hugged his knees, resting his cheek on them, letting the tears seep through the fabric of his pants. He wished he could just disappear right now. Not only that he was a failure, he had probably ruined the group image as well. It was his own mistake, but surely he would drag the others with him in one way or another. While the other members were working hard, what was he doing except destroying everything they had built together?

11 years—more than 11 years of hard work, blood, sweat and tears down the drain. Just one mistake, he was like an idiotic cat killed by his own curiosity. He never meant to harm anyone, he swore he never did. He was always critical on himself, but never before had he hated himself this much—never before had he been so disgusted of himself like this.

He wanted nothing but to descent into darkness, digging a hole deep below the ground and hide—hide from his mistakes, his shame, his guilt. He had disappointed everyone around him—he had been foolish, stupid, idiotic. He wasn’t worthy of anything he had been too lucky to be bestowed of. He had lost control and now he had to pay the price.

He hugged knees tighter. The tears just couldn’t stop flowing, drenching his jeans. This was it—this was the end. How could he face the public again? How could he fix this? This was surely the end.

Heavy footsteps sounded in his quiet apartment, distant at first but then it kept advancing closer and closer. Someone had come—he didn’t know who it was but he knew that he didn’t want to welcome anyone right now. He tried to shrink even further, curling into a pathetic ball in the corner. He didn’t want to meet anybody. He didn’t want any pity. He didn’t want anybody to tell him any empty encouraging words when he knew that everything was over for him. His world was crashing down around him, and he only wished to be left alone—he only wished, just one wish, that he wouldn’t take anyone down with him.

“Found you,” the footsteps stopped and instead replaced by a warm voice from the direction of the door, coming from a tall man who was leaning against its frame with a smile on his lips.

Someone opened the closet door, letting the light of the room in. He squinted his eyes, becoming sensitive to the light after spending long hours in the comfort of the darkness. A tall figure stood in front of him, Hyesung looked down and tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Found you,” the taller young man exclaimed cheerfully, his voice was low and soft—a calming effect that worked on him almost instantly. Hyesung felt the constricting guilt in his chest loosened up a bit, although he didn’t dare to answer.

“Come on out,” Eric offered him a glass of water. He shook his head, rejecting the kind offer. Although his throat was dry after hours of crying in the dark, he still had to repent, he refused to have his thirst quenched.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the leader squatted in front of him, “We all make mistakes,” he said with a smile. He had said it sincerely, although he had to admit that the delivery was rather awkward. Eric had always known that he was never good in comforting people—but right now he was desperate to help Hyesung out of his self-blame, and it was not only out of his obligation as the leader.

On the other hand, Hyesung himself thought that he shouldn’t make any blunders. He thought that it was only normal for him to put the blame on himself—he’s the main vocalist of the group after all. What would people think about the group now after he had made such a grave error? People must have thought that they were incapable because of him. He avoided Eric’s kind eyes due to his guilt.

“I found it cute, you know,” Eric shrugged, he was now sitting on the floor right in front of Hyesung’s position in the closet, crossing his legs in a relaxed way. He was smiling even wide in reminiscence, chuckling as if nothing happened at all, as if something funny happened instead. Hyesung was dumbfounded—as the leader of the group, Eric should have scolded him, shouted at him, punched him, anything but smiling at him.

“Y-you should be angry at me,” Hyesung whispered in a hoarse voice.

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