I slip into the dorm just as the hands on the clock hit two in the afternoon.

"Kibum, you're home! Have you eaten lunch?" Jinki hyung looks up from his book.
I give a hasty nod as I slip my feet out of my shoes. A lie, unless you count having my lunch box tipped over and the food being poured out as eaten. Such a waste of food, really, but no matter. Hyung doesn't need to know. I'm already wondering how to tell manager hyung about my broken phone. 

Hurrying into the bedroom, I scramble up the ladder and retrieve the cracked device, to inspect in further, still hoping that it can somehow be fixed. I only end up with even more cuts on my fingers and wrists.

"Kibum? I didn't hear you come in!" Jonghyun hyung is standing at the doorway. "I called you earlier today, because there was a slight change in schedules. The photoshoot is going to be pushed to next week instead because the magazine company has some issues with studio booking. How come you didn't pick up?"

Damn. Now what. 
I'd hoped to go to manager hyung privately and tell him, after coming up with a story to explain my broken phone. On the way home, I'd been trying to decide between pretending I'd tripped and fallen, smashing my phone in the process, or that my phone had fallen off the window ledge onto the ground two floors below.

"Were you in class when I called? But you didn't reply the text I'd sent afterwards, too."

I can feel my palms start to sweat, and it almost makes me want to laugh because really, all this is so dramatic. Yet I can't laugh because I'm not prepared to tell anyone what happened, and now that I think about it, the two possible lies that I came up with are not very probable at all, simply because although I may look awkward and uncoordinated, I'm not that much of a klutz, and a simple fall without any visible injuries is unlikely to destroy a phone. Also because i don't have the habit of placing my phone on the window ledge for the precise reason that I do not wish it to fall off, and I'm pretty sure hyung knows that, don't ask me how.

So I just stare. As I did when we first met and he tried to talk to me. I gaze at him and do not say anything, fingers toying nervously with the bedspread.
"Kibum? Was your phone battery flat or something?" 
Such interrogation simply because I did not reply a text message. Why is it necessary for him to go so deep into everything? Why does it even matter?

"Oh god, Kibum!" His voice rises to form a shout. "Is that blood?" 
Looking down, I see that the fresh cuts left by the phone have created bloodstains on the corner of the bedspread I was fiddling with. Crap. 
Before I can even respond to his question, hyung is coming closer, climbing up the ladder. 

"That's quite a bit of blood, Kibum...will you let hyung see your palm?"
He picks it up anyway, letting out a small gasp when he sees the cuts.  I see his questioning look, and I know what he's thinking. He thinks I created these, on pu