Colorless.

It takes a few minutes, every morning, for the world to return to its natural color after lifting his heavy eyelids. His bookshelf turns a dark mahogany, filled with various stripes that he vaguely recognizes as his books. Outside the squares of his window glass, there's a light blue sky coming into place. On his nightstand, the small pile of dried flower bookmarks are what really brings vibrance to his pitiful room. The dark greens, the light violets, the yellow centers. The ceiling stays white, though, as it should. Everything else is usually a blur of greys. It takes especially long to see the walls. Until they start closing in.

Evanescent. 

His nights are filled with the faded visions of his day. He's not sure if what he remembers is what's real, he's not sure if what he sees is what's there. The edges of his eyesight are like the burned edges of an old photograph. As he drifts into sleep, he's almost sure he's slowly becoming less significant with every passing minute. His very existence is something that disappears with his conscious. In this bed, he thinks, there will be no one. Nobody.

Ephemeral.

That is him. Short-lived. Temporary. Soon to be gone. That is him, or that is what he is going to make himself.

The date is October 3rd. It's a Monday, and as Mondays usually go, it is not a very motivated day. But some are much less motivated than others.

The first thing Do Kyungsoo does when he wakes up is blindly for his phone, call his boss, and quit his job.

In his groggy morning voice, he tells the man, "I'm sorry this is so sudden, but I'm afraid I can no longer work there from this day on. My resignation should be in your mailbox. Have a good day."

He hangs up without waiting for a reply.

There's something about the spontaneous lifestyle he's now fitted himself into that he likes. Who in the past ever knew what was going to happen in the future? No one. And now he won't know what will happen in the present either. Spontaneous! He likes it.

Quit the job. Skip breakfast. Shower in the morning. Take a walk.

Spontaneous.

Different.

Anything but the person from three-hundred and sixty six days ago.

There's a pile of laundry he needs to do on the floor of his bedroom, a stack of dishes in the sink, and his poor flowers are dried and shriveled on the windowsill. He's been neglecting his basic homely chores in exchange for his own sanity. What keeps his hands busy, he's realized, does not keep his mind busy.

The flashbacks come too often.

----

"Hey, it's almost noon. Should't we get up?"

He buries his nose into Kyungsoo's face, and the latter can feel the smile that he presses up into his skin.

"You showered last night," he replies instead of answering the question.

"Well, yeah. Isn't that obvious?"

"I like it when you do. You smell good in the mornings."

"Um, thank you. But it's hardly morning now."

"Shhh. We can call in late for work. Traffic or something. Sick. I don't know. We'll figure it out."

Kyungsoo laughs, hugging him back. "You're so lazy, Junmyeon."

----

There are a couple things Do Kyungsoo does not tell anyone.

First off, he only has enough money in his bank account to last him a month. Tops.

Second, he's doing everything in his free power to take as little care of himself as possible.

And third, he is not okay.

Do Kyungsoo is a self-set timer. A countdown. He's given himself thirty more days, but he's also giving himself the opportunity to stop. Someone, something, could cut the right wire, could press the right button, could input the correct code.

Miracles, he knows, exist. Perhaps one will happen. And then, perhaps, those thirty days will become sixty days, will become ninety days, will become a lifetime. All he needs is the reason to keep walking. 

But right now, he needs a reason to leave the house. The worst part is when the one reason he can come up with is that he simply doesn't want to be here.

----

He finds himself, at a late 1:45 PM, with an empty stomach, sitting on the carpeted floor of the library with his back against rugged book spines, staring at the title across his eyes.

The Last One Standing is the name, and he knows it's one of those adult fiction books. The ones where the author's name is in a larger font than the actual title. The ones, he thinks, he'll never pick up off the shelves.

The last one standing, is what he's really thinking though. The final one alive. Alone. The last one breathing.

He's become prone to skipping meals. Breakfast. Lunch. He hasn't eaten since dinner the night before, and he doesn't feel like bothering now.

Do Kyungsoo is trying to deteriorate the bomb within himself. Trying to disintegrate into someone less than himself. Into a nothingness that can blow away with the smallest breath of wind.

He sighs, and rises slowly to a stand. But apparently not slowly enough. 

He closes his eyes as his entire body wobbles on his heels, as spots of color flash across his otherwise black vision. It takes a moment for him to recover. 

What would it be like, he asks himself, to go completely unconscious?

He returns home feeling unaccomplished and falls back onto the sofa. Glaring light filters through the window. He stays quiescent, and he likes that word quite a lot, really. Quiescent. Still. Unmoving. He stares off into space where he can see the minuscule specks of dust floating through the beam.

Reaching out blindly with his hand, he grasps for his glasses. The pair that he's mentally trained himself to wear whenever he has headaches. It's a small weight on the bridge of nose, to balance out the lightheadedness that comes with the pounding in his skull.

He thinks it's so sad, glasses. To only be able to see the edges and lines of the world around you with these frames. Without them, one would see nothing beyond their own heads, their own incessant thoughts colliding with the walls of their skull. 

But Kyungsoo wears glasses because it calms him. And even though there is nothing to see, he wears them nonetheless. 

Beside him, his phone rings, and he's sure it must be one of his friends, asking if he wants to go out again. So he ignores the call, and listens in to the voicemail. 

He recognizes his companions' voices immediately, calling out to him.

Hey Kyungsoo, uh, it's Baekhyun. And Chanyeol's next to me. Oh, and Jongdae's here too. Listen, we know it's that time again. And we're really sorry. But you should come out with us, you know?

Shut up, man, why did you remind him? He obviously knows what the damn date is.

Jongdae, shush, I'm leaving a message.

Baek, c'mon. Just ask him.

Right, right. So Kyungsoo, we're thinking of going down to Moonlight. Like we did way back when. We'll even wait for you. Just meet us outside the door. Jongdae wants to perform on the open mic, and we're thinking maybe you guys could do a duet. Ahem. So. We'll see you there.

There's a pause. Then--

Did you hang up?

Yeah, Channie, I did.

Cool. Let's go.

Yeah, give me a sec, I just got a text. 

Hm? All right then, we'll be in the car I guess.

Yeah. 

Kyungsoo hears the muted sound of a door closing through the line.

Kyungsoo, I'm sorry. I really am. I know I'll never be able to understand how you feel, but it's been so long. Three hundred sixty-six days. A year plus one. We all miss Junmyeon, we really, really do. But you can live on without him. Please come. Because we all miss you too. 

They all miss him too?

Sighing, he guesses he could spare one drink tonight. Just one. In celebration.

Three hundred sixty-six days alone.

A/N: Hi everyone! I see that AFF has a new rule that chapter titles can't be less than 3 characters long.... shame on you, AFF, you let me do this for Metal! I'll get back to just percents once I reach "10", I suppose...

Yes, I'm finally continuing this! As always, thank you for the support I've already gained and comments/subscribing/voting is always always ALWAYS much appreciated ;u; i love you guys <3