Note: Triple Update in One Chapter, guys it's three times long.

i.

If you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
Most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs
Setting fire to our insides for fun
Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong…

It would be no stretch to say Kris was not a big fan of death. It was terrible. It reduced lives and made his fingers calloused from making so many shrouds… figuratively speaking. It was the cause of hot tears that soaked into his shirt when somebody lost a relative or a friend.

And it seemed to follow Junhee like a dog.

That year was 2011. Just when there had been news of her, two people died. Real physical deaths this time. Not psychological, not emotional, not just heartbreaks. Legit deaths with funerals and everything.

But of course, it wasn’t like Kris could blame her; she didn’t even know Tao’s grandmother that well nor ever heard of Yoo Youngjae. In fact, nobody seemed to know who Yoo Youngjae was exactly, other than ‘Youngwon’s brother’ and ‘an heir to the Yoo legacy’. They mentioned he was ‘smart’, ‘sweet’ but ‘was born to die’. The people at the funeral talked as the portrait of the teen smiled back at them.

So, Kris stuck around Youngwon for a while, see if the guy was doing alright. Youngwon became gloomy, talked less, wanted to be alone and busied himself with his father’s business. So Kris used that time to mend Jisun’s broken heart and get her far away from the Choi; Junhong had disappeared and the family was on a rampage for somebody to blame.

Kris guarded his surrogate mother like a loyal pet. It could’ve been easy for him to start hating Junhee for leaving.

That didn’t happen. Instead, he found comfort in her reappearance. Nervous, jittery, wide-eyed, wearing clothes endorsed by famous brands Kris knew she didn’t care about, keeping her hands in her pockets to hide the shaking. Despite the rumours, he couldn’t bring himself to imagine that Junhee meant to actually hurt anyone by leaving.

And it was true.

He liked to imagine that Misfortune was an awkward kid, more interested in finding the best tree to climb than ripping hearts and souls from people she knew.

So.

Kris mended the bond, reconciled mother and daughter, and for the first few months, at Jisun’s new home, things were awkward. Kris made it a point to pick Junhee up once a week to visit Jisun the first few months. Jisun was beyond grateful for that. Junhee was still awkward. Kris knew part of her must’ve felt guilty for only listening to one side, yet another part must still raw from what her mother had done.

Family should defend each other.

It was clear that that was how Junhee thought. And it was the one thing Jisun had not done the night her daughter needed her most. And that broke both of them.

“Tao. Tell me you didn’t do this,” Kris demanded, eyes squinting at the evening television.

House Raid was on. The nation’s sweetheart was in it. They were showing Junhee’s bedroom.

“What?”

Tao slid out of the kitchen and Kris didn’t need to ask twice because it was clear that the guy had done it.

“Oh crap,” said Tao, paling as he took a step back while Kris stood up from his seat.

“How did that happen exactly?” demanded Kris, pointing at the television screen where the moving pictures were of the photos that covered the entirety of the four walls.

It was maddening, although artistic, still maddening and utterly ridiculous; at least it was for Kris.

Tao flushed. “I didn’t know she was really gonna do it.”

Kris narrowed his eyes.

“Please explain.”

Tao took another step back.

“She, uh, found me years ago.” He shrugged. “Out of nowhere, asking about Junhong and I-I had a lot going on back then. Junhee wouldn’t believe anything I told her, not even after I took her to see for herself-”

“You took her to see Junhong?” Kris quirked an eyebrow. “When was this?”

“2011. It wasn’t like Junhong saw us. He was…preoccupied with some girl and…and-”

“She came back in 2011 and you didn’t care to mention it at all?” Kris stared. “We could’ve taken her to auntie; those two could’ve saved years of pain and misunderstanding. Instead you took her to spy on Junhong?”

“What? No. Well… kind of-”

“Look.” Kris sighed. “Just- tell me about the photos?”

“I gave them to her.” He stared at his feet. “To… decorate her place with it, and uh.” Tao ducked his head. “I told her I hope she’s happy with what she’d turned Junhong into.”

“You-”

“I wasn’t in my best condition back then. I hated even my watch for dying! It was just after gran- I mean, I didn’t think she’d actually…do it.”

Kris stared at Tao. He wasn’t angry, just calculative.

“You expected her to insult you back? So you can have somebody to argue with?”

Tao sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just- it’s easy to forget after some time. If it makes you feel better, I realised my mistake the moment she thanked me for…insulting her.” Tao cringed.

And that, Kris knew, was another way of saying, ‘I thought she’d have some sense to realise I was being sarcastic not literal’.

Right.

Kris sighed, slumping back down in his seat. “Well. At least you didn’t give her all the photos. Junhong’s clubbing ones, I mean.”

He was met with silence.

“Tao?”

And Huang Zitao ran for his life.

ii.

Push me out to sea
On a little boat that you made
Out of the evergreen that you helped your father cut away
Leave me on the tracks
To wait until the morning train arrives
Don't you dare look back
Walk away
Catch up with the sunrise

Jongup tried not to remember, but as he grew up, he left behind his old life and suicidal thoughts. He was the son who was unwanted by his parents, his father, mother, living in wealth and power, too busy enjoying themselves to take care of him.

Himchan first said he looked too skinny, but Jongup didn’t care. When Zelo chided on his height on one of his bad days, Jongup kept quiet. The frustrating part was not the physical challenges he faced from being an orphan; the psychological part was the problem. How could one sew back the rips in his heart, his hopes and dreams? How could one get the dirt and blood out of his bones without ruining him? The monsters with claws and bitterness and grudge. All those things spelled bad things for his mind.

Then there was Youngjae. Jongup thought he hated the guy. He wanted to hate him, but really under it all, he knew the reason he kept pushing Youngjae away was because he was ashamed. Every time he thought about him; how he took pity on him, reeling him out of the orphanage, taking him in, his insides stirred with embarrassment. He didn’t want to feel like he owed Youngjae his life, even though the older had never mentioned it. Never even asked him for favours, never tried to guilt trip him into doing things he didn’t want to do.

But Jongup still struggled with the shame and the hate. It was irrational, yet it wouldn’t go away. Jongup remembered the conversation he had with Yongguk so long ago, early one morning, when dawn was about to break.

“That’s the thing with thinking you’re invincible,” Yongguk had said, staring out into the sky. “When you’re better off than others, I guess there is the burden that comes with it.”

Jongup had snorted then. People who were better off didn’t give a shuck about people like him.

Yongguk went on anyway, “Youngjae wants to fight everybody’s battle for them. I don’t think I will ever know why.”

And Jongup pretty much thought it was bull. But now he wasn’t so sure. The steady wear and tear of people’s expectations slid against Youngjae. Jongup wanted to stay as close as possible, because maybe Yongguk was right; Youngjae’s greatest flaw was he cared too much about other people and he still hadn’t learned to say no.

But the drummer wasn’t counting on it, of course. He didn’t want to start proving all his years worth of hatred wrong now. That would be even more embarrassing.

“Why are you sitting next to me?” Youngjae asked out of nowhere after staring out the bus window for an hour or so, too confused to sound polite. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate it. I just can’t understand.”

Jongup quirked his eyebrows.

“Have you been trying to solve that mystery all this time?”

Youngjae didn’t reply, just stared at Jongup. The drummer looked away before it could get awkward, clearing his throat.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Jongup, knowing Youngjae would see through his lie anyway. But it was better than telling the truth.

“No, but really,” Youngjae’s voice was muffled by a yawn. “Why are you always around me these days? And you talk to me everyday. That’s like ten times more than the last two years combined.”

Because. Because. Jongup had done the sitting by thing before, leaving the dirty work to everybody else.

“You’re my friend,” was all Jongup said. The words sounded odd on his tongue after all those years of denial.

He could feel Youngjae’s stare burned into his side profile, and he willed himself not to flush. It was not working. Jongup cleared his throat, shifted in his seat before, having enough, whipped around to give Youngjae a glare.

Youngjae’s eyes were soft but dark under the glare of the window. He leaned back in his seat and seemed to accept that answer with a light shrug.

He’d never told Jongup any of his secrets, but Jongup didn’t need to know. He didn’t need that kind of trust.

He didn’t.

iii.

Shadows settle on the place you left
Our minds are troubled by the emptiness
Destroy the middle; it's a waste of time
From the perfect start to the finish line

They could do this.

He didn’t care what people thought, didn’t care what marks they left behind, as long as he had her it was enough. She had always been his life and death and all the spaces in between; she was the only thing worth living for.

The adrenaline that pumped through his veins as they found themselves entangled at the roots, the feeling that sparked between them mutating into something vicious. It was so much more ravenous, more primitive, and they could try and try to feed on it but the more they tried the more starving they got. It was a witch’s curse.

How could their innocence grow into a thing so vile?

For him then, it was the first time in his life that ‘hunger’ didn’t feel bad.

It was simply a way of being in love.

Things were so intense that he was sure everybody must know what they did behind closed doors, and how often they came to find themselves entangled in bedsheets and each other, in the blithe of mutual addiction.

Their daily activities no longer lingered with childlike innocence; just carnal gestures, bruising love and everything they promised each other not to become.

“You’re still mine, aren’t you?” a voice fluttered against his ear, like a shy butterfly seeking a shoulder to rest on.

The peach scented hair, the flesh beneath his lips and the curves that aligned snuggly in his palms; they were all his.

You’re only half a heartbeat without her…

Zelo stirred, growing conscious of all his limbs and the hum of the only voice that could stir tears. He moved his arm, only to realise it was holding something. He sighed into the headrest, feeling the smooth surface shudder against his mouth. Zelo frowned as a breath, that wasn’t his, hitched when he traced his palms over a smooth curve, like…a jut of a hip.

He froze.

no, Yongguk will kill me for bringing someone into the apartment again. -

His second thought was, Why is the house so noisy?

Then, Who the hell did I bring back with me this time?

And, It’s like I’m in a car…

Zelo’s eyes flew open, head flying up so fast he almost got a whiplash.

“Ow!” a familiar voice cried. “I let you drool on me and this is what I get?”

“Junhee?”

Junhee scowled, her hair tousled as though somebody had run a hand through it, and a disconcerting feeling in his stomach was hinting at him. She looked childishly grumpy, with one hand on the side of her jaw where Zelo had just knocked her with his head.

You’re only half a heartbeat without her…

Only when her body moved under his palms, cotton brushing against the back of his hands, did he realise where they were.

“Oh crap,” he blurted out.

“Yeah, totally,” grumbled Junhee, shoving him off of her with the hand that was already on his chest, right over his heart.

Zelo stammered. “I- what?”

He hastily retracted his hands that were under her shirt, resting on the juts of her hips. He felt his ears burn, the after-feeling of her bare skin on his fingertips lingered even as he let go.

Junhee either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She looked offended and continued to mutter about how people who walked past had seen Zelo drool on her like a giant dead rat.

He decided to keep silent during this one-sided argument, trying to control the electricity that settled at the base of his spine. He stared down at his hands, itching for the rest of the ride.

I’m still yours, aren’t I?

iv.

Hours later, the cast found themselves unpacking their luggages inside their assigned cabins. Junhee was to room with Jimin and Choa, while the other three AOA members were to room together. Himchan and Yongguk were separated as they were the oldest two. Yongguk was to room with Zelo and Youngjae, while Himchan dealt wit