“Ryeowook…”

I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to turn around. I don’t want to have to go through this. I don’t want to talk to him, I don’t want to look at him. I was afraid if I gave in, I’d fall again. Because I was afraid I would believe him and right now, all I wanted was to just heal my broken heart. My broken heart which had suffered for eight years ever since I knew him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He begged silently, “Ryeowook, please talk to me.”

I don’t want to. Can’t he see that? I had been avoiding him and was successful for at least a month now. When you’ve got twelve other members in a group, live at different dorms and a very busy schedules, it was easy to be honest. I stopped talking to him, texting him, discussing with him about future possible collaborations, I stayed as far away from him whenever we were on stage and I just did everything to avoid being with him.

I felt bad because he didn’t do anything. But at the same time, I needed this. For myself. Because I have had enough of always comparing myself to him. We were the same – aged friend but… Why was he always better than me? We were close friends but half of the time when I spent time with him, I’d start to question myself and where I stood. To cut straight to the point, whenever I was around him, I wouldn’t even know what self-esteem meant.

And worst of all was that we were famous. And I’ve had so many people judging and criticizing me because I wasn’t as popular or as good as him and it hurts. “He’s actually younger than you but he has accomplished so much and you are nowhere near as successful as him.” That was what I always got. The first few times I received those type of messages, I would cry myself to sleep. But now, I just felt numb. Even more so, I actually agreed with those messages. I was worthless, I was no one and I was never good enough. When managers had to choose one of us for a show, they would pick him because he was popular and more well-known. When members had to choose between us, they would pick him because he was a better sport than I was or will ever be.

I won’t lie and tell you that I had never thought of leaving, never thought of talking to him, and never thought of hating him. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never hate him. We were close friends. He protected me and defended me, he cared about me and always told me that I had him if I ever needed anyone. But that was the problem you see…. He was that type of person. He would care and protect for anyone he was close to and so… Who was I to even call myself his best friend? In fact, I felt that all this