Yook Sungjae did not want to go. The matter was as simple as that.

One quick glance at his phone next to him told him there was a mere 45 minutes left before the alarm was to ring, 45 minutes of peace left, before it was to be cruelly snatched away by the shrill electronic beeps, and life would continue at its alarmingly accelerated pace.

Yook Sungjae did not want that.

Some days were meant to be just spent in leisure, lazing around in the dorm, watching videos, eating to your heart’s content – not in the studio, not in any recording station. He had to get himself out of this mess, but how…?

Another glance. 32 minutes left now.

His eyes widened, as he stared at the blank ceiling. The perfect excuse had come to his mind, after all, only 32 minutes before he was meant to be waking up.

No one can disturb you, after all, if you pretend to be dead, right?

Right?

“Yah,” he felt a jab against his sides and it took him all his will to not recoil in reaction. “Sungjae-yah, you’re late. Wake up.”

His natural reaction would have to been to squeeze his eyelids shut, but he couldn’t do that, could he? Corpses don’t squeeze their eyelids shut; they simply lay there, complacently closing their eyes. He heard the pause, the silence, the creak of the beds (not his, though – he didn’t feel it shake, after all) and a cold jab to his cheek.

“Stop playing around…! Yah, Yook Sungjae! We’re gonna be really late if you don’t wake up now.”

Ilhoon had to stop with this jabbing thing, Sungjae made a mental note to tell the rapper that…when he wasn’t playing dead, that is.

It took him all his self-control to remain still, unflinching. His hyung was annoying him, but he couldn’t respond. Dead people don’t talk, unless it’s a horror film. “I’m dead, let me decompose in peace,” he wished he could have said that…actually, it would’ve been pretty nice to say that, but dead bodies don’t talk. A point he had to continuously remind himself.

Another prolonged silence. The bed creaked again. Someone (presumably Ilhoon) jumped off the bed, the dull thud of the hardwood floor indicating so, and padded their way out of the room. It was funny how much one could tell, just based on sound.

It wasn’t hard playing dead. All you had to do was to not breathe and not blink. Well, you could blink when people weren’t looking, really quickly. Same for breathing, but they had to be quick breaths, just enough to keep you alive.

Peeking from the corner of his eye, the room seemed to be empty and he had time to blink. He could risk taking a few deep breaths, as well. So far, Sungjae thought it was going pretty well. If he kept this up, he could pretend to be dead for an entire week, an entire month if he roped in a few other people to give him some food an-

It was only because of his superior reflexes (‘gotta thank Mum and Dad for that as well’) that he managed to escape being caught, when suddenly his hyungs had come back into the room.  Close call.

“He’s not waking up?”
“Then should we just leave him?”
“He knows where the salon is. Let’s go.” Of course, Ilhoon-hyung would say that.
“No, but…we can’t just leave him, right?” Of course, Eunkwang-hyung would say that.
 

The bed frame shook rather violently, and it took Sungjae all his master acting skills to make sure he wouldn’t give way now. Cold fingers on his wrist, he could feel his heart catch in his throat.

. His pulse.

There was little he could do to conceal his pulse, but Sungjae remembered reading somewhere that with mind control, one was capable of slowing down their heartbeat. Might as well give it a try.

My heart is still.

Still, like a dead banana.

A frozen, dead banana.

A paralyzed, frozen, dead banana.

…even though bananas are still, despite not needing to be paralyzed, frozen or dead.

My heart is still, like a banana, then.

“I think he’s dead.” Minhyuk’s voice rung out clearly, as he gently placed Sungjae’s hand back on to the mattress.
“Dead…?”
“Hyung, don’t joke like that, not you too…”
The sudden clamour fell to deafening silence, and Sungjae heard Eunkwang say “you’re not serious, are you Minhyukkie?” followed by a strangled sob.

Perhaps this joke had gone too far. But it was too late to chicken out now.

Amidst the crying of the leader, he could hear Minhyuk and Ilhoon talking.

“I checked his pulse, I couldn’t feel it. And his body’s falling cold, too.”
“What do we do, then? We have to start going over the comeback album tracks with the vocal trainer, and he has to go for his MC shoot later on, as well. Aish, what a hang up.”

Was Ilhoon really not concerned about his precious dongsaeng dying? The comeback was more important? Sungjae sure had a lot to talk about with his hyung once he came back from the dead.

“We should tell the others first, though.” He could hear the distinct unlock sound of Minhyuk’s phone. Everyone seemed to be busy, so Sungjae hazarded a peek. From the corner of his eye, he could see Eunkwang sobbing, violently so, and Ilhoon and Minhyuk peering at the screen of the latter’s phone with concentrated frowns.

This was going great. Sungjae wondered why he hadn’t tried this earlier.

He had almost allowed himself to smile. Almost, because hearing Minhyuk’s voice made him stiffen once again.

“Well, there’s nothing left to do now, is there? Let’s bury him in the garden out back.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?”
“Nah,” Minhyuk’s voice was decisive. “If he starts decomposing here, we’ll have a bigger problem.” As if on cue, Eunkwang’s crying became louder.

They weren’t serious, were they?

“There’s no use standing around, come on, Ilhoonie. We have to dig the hole.”
“Why me-“

Bickering, the two left the room. If Sungjae hadn’t been such a fantastic actor, he would’ve bolted upright by now, and probably hit his head on the ceiling (such were the woes of the top bunk). Eunkwang’s steady sobbing, now growing in volume, was a good reminder of what was going on though.

“No matter what you think,” judging by the loudness of the voice, Eunkwang was probably standing right next to the bed. “No matter what you thought, Sungjae-yah, I never minded you picking on me, and-“ The rest of his words were lost in the sobbing, as he proceeded to leave the room.

Were they insane? Were they completely bat insane? It was hard enough in Cheondamdong to find a sliver of soil and he had always thought they were lucky to get the private 7” by 4” patch at the back of the building, but he couldn’t rue its existence any more than he was right now. It was going to become his burial ground; they really were going to bury him. Before Hyunsikkie-hyung, Changsubbie-hyung and Donggeunnie-hyung were back from the salon. He wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to all his hyungs-

Wait…

For a moment, he was convinced himself that he was dead! His acting skills were above excellence, Sungjae concluded, but that couldn’t mean that they could possibly bury him…! There had to be some kind of law against that! They couldn’t actually bury him, right? Because he wasn’t actually dead! Just tricking them! He could confess, which would solve this whole dilemma immensely, but it was too late for that. Half his hyungs were convinced he was dead, after all. It wasn’t as if he just could walk into the front room and say “hi hyung I was just pretending to be dead, no big deal.” That would absolutely freak them out. Opening his eyes, all Sungjae could do was stare at the ceiling.

He concluded that he was pretty bored.

Being dead was boring. There wasn’t any advantage to being dead, really, apart from being able to avoid schedule.

Voices from afar indicated that his hyungs were coming back, forcing him to take one last deep breath before closing his eyes and becoming still once again. He knew what was coming next.

“How do we carry him down?”
“He’s dead, right? We can just push his dead body from the top bunk and drag him down to the hole and-“
“Yah Jung Ilhoon!” Two voices in unison, Sungjae could tell it was Minhyuk and Eunkwang. If he wasn’t playing dead, he would’ve said the same.
“I’m just saying…” The rapper in question trailed off, grumbling.
“Maybe we should just get Ilhoonie to go up there and push him a little, and then we both could carry him down here?” Eunkwang’s idea was quite plausible, Sungjae had to admit.
“No, we’ll get you and Ilhoonie up there to carry him and one person start coming down and when you’re halfway, I’ll get hold of the other side. Got it?”

Sungjae could feel the bunk bed shaking as if it was an earthquake, and he tried to be as corpse-like as he could, floppy arms and head and all. He felt himself being hoisted up from his bunk, and his head was the first thing to be carried down, followed by his torso.

This was extremely dangerous, wasn’t it? One misstep and he could fall from there! Who was crazy enough to do this? His hyungs were all insane. All of them were equally insane.

And that’s when it happened.

It was only for a split second, but Sungjae felt himself being unhandled, followed soon closely by the resounding thud of his body coming in contact with the floor. The pain came at its tail, and boy did it hurt. “Hyung!” The word escaped his lips before he could consciously stop himself from doing so, and that’s when he knew it was game over.

Opening his eyes and blinking owlishly, Sungjae was greeted by the sight of his three hyungs peering down at him, all trying their hardest to not laugh.

“Good morning, Sungjae-yah.” Minhyuk tried his hardest to control his bubbling laughter. “Now that you’re awake and we’re all late for our salon appointment, how about you pay for our taxi fare, hmm?”