This was a nightmare, surely? There was a skeleton inside the closet. Its hollow eyes were fixed onto the rigid girl who had discovered it. She returned the stare, taking a wary step back.

That tall bony thing inside the closet brushed the coat hangers away from its face as it stepped out into the open. Thin pale skin that masked over its skull stretched and twisted into a humourless smile.

The girl continued to stare at it, confusion, wariness, perhaps, even fear flashed across her face for a second—then all those emotions vanished, leaving her as unreadable as a blank slate. When had she learned to do that? The skeleton boy wondered, as he ambled forward, his boots making click-clack on the floor.

“Boo,” said Zelo, his twisted smile morphing back into a mute line.

He shoved his hands inside his pockets, unmoving and challenging as Juniel continued to stare at him unperturbed. She didn’t know what they were, these emotions that boiled through her—they were just strong enough to make her jaw clench.

“Thanks,” she said hollowly, struggling to keep herself under control, “for telling me.”

Zelo tilted his head to the side, as though a corpse rather than a person.

“Tell you what?”

“That I meant something,” the girl answered without missing a beat. “That I wasn’t disposable to Junhong like I once believed.”

“Disposable?” the boy repeated, becoming rigid and snapping like a trap. “You were never disposable to him.” His face morphed into a scowl as he hissed, “Too bad he isn’t around anymore.”

Juniel gave Zelo an empty smile, neither sad nor happy, only a mere curve of lips.

“Too bad,” she agreed with a sense of wistful understanding, “I loved him– love him, still.”

Something flashed across the bassist’s eyes. She did not know what it was, but it looked just like the longing that haunted her own eyes in the mirror. Maybe they weren’t so different.

“It’s just Zelo now,” he confirmed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed dryly.

Juniel nodded slowly, with no hint of sadness nor anger, everything about her reaction was neither smooth nor sharp, solid nor empty. This was another thing Zelo had never seen in Junhee before. It pricked at his heart the moment she brushed past him towards the closet. He continued to stand there, stiff still and on the verge of an emotion that felt like disappointment but so much stronger. It wasn’t just disappointment.

Even after the ruffling of clothes behind him stopped, Zelo still couldn’t make himself move.

Juniel wished he would just leave. Being around him hurt to the point that her hands were shaking. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes, and she scolded herself because she promised she wouldn’t cry anymore. But this changed everything, she thought desperately. If Junhong was really gone then how could she still be here? Junhee had blindly hoped, through all the years that separated them, that Junhong was still living, waiting, somehow. That perhaps, Junhong had really loved her, at least, half as much as she loved him.

Of course, Junhee knew most of it was her imagination, her thoughts and dreams she drowned herself in, in every sleeping and waking moment, just to keep her breathing as each day shone through.

Blindly gathering anything she could find—an old sweater, black sweatpants—Juniel spun around and walked towards the exit without looking back. Zelo was still standing there, his back turned to the closet, just where she left him. Juniel stopped, hesitating. She turned back to glance at the cold boy who was nothing like Junhong.

Zelo looked up, waiting.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell Junhong, all those years ago,” Junhee said quietly. “I never got the chance to. So, if he’s in there somewhere, listening, I hope hears it.”

Zelo straightened, hollow eyes fixated on the girl of his childhood, as young and as beautiful as he remembered her. Everything apart from her eyes remained the way Choi Junhee was remembered in Junhong’s precious memories. The happy memories that weren’t tainted by the world nor twisted by reality. Zelo could almost feel them. They were warm.

‘Life had pummelled through her eyes,’ he thought, ‘there’s nothing alive about them now.’

“Even before– before things happened, I’ve always loved him,” she confessed, swallowing back a lump in . “Those things Junhong wanted from me, back then… maybe he thought he stole them, but he didn’t.” Junhee let out a hollow chuckle, because she was so exhausted and she really really missed Junhong. “I knew what I was doing; I gave them to him because I was in love with him– still am, actually.” Junhee closed her eyes, because she didn’t want to see the reaction on Zelo’s face, knowing how stupid she sounded. How could you love somebody who no longer existed? “Yes, I know it’s stupid,” she defended, eyes snapping open. Zelo was paler than before, his eyes were wide with an emotion Juniel couldn’t name. “But you played him so well, okay? You fooled me—I really thought Junhong loved me back.”

(After that, the only thing that ran through their heads were, ‘This changes everything’.)

Zelo still remembered the very first time he’d lost control and allowed Junhong to give in to The Itch. Junhee hadn’t minded. It was as if there was a vow they never remembered making, which gave them complete authority to do whatever the hell they wanted with each other; where neither Junhong nor Junhee felt obligated to say no.

At the time, this new revelation gave Junhong so much more than content. If it started with an itch, then by the end of it, everything turned into this craving that could never be satisfied. Trying to get enough of Junhee was like some witch’s curse where the more he tried to stop being hungry, the more starving he got.

As for Junhee? She was pretty far gone too, but not so far gone that she thought anyone with half a toehold in Reality would think what they were doing was a Good Idea.

It was summer, as far as Zelo could remember. They were sitting by the bank of their lake inside the woods—the only place safer than home. Junhee wasn’t talking, just staring ahead, brown eyes fixed onto the centre of the water, as though she could see something Junhong couldn’t.

Then the itch came. He tightened his fists on his lap and cursed inside his head when it got too unbearable that he had to close his eyes and imagine he was somewhere else.

Junhong was so distracted with his own inner battle he didn’t notice that Junhee had moved until her leg made contact against his. His eyes flew open, and he was staring straight into her amused ones. He blushed. She half-smiled at him and the crazy feeling was flying between them like a bird trapped in a room. The feeling that had been building up for so long, it was so strong now that it made Junhong feel dizzy. So far, he’d just been pretending it was what their friendship felt like and all that crap he used to tell himself when he wanted to pretend something wasn’t really happening.

He was so sure, what with the accusing look on his best friend’s face, that she knew exactly what had been going on inside his head. Junhong felt exposed and more scared than ever as they continued to stare at each other. Then, Junhee moved in, the motion was so ever familiar and yet entirely different. Every