Please read the author's note at the end of the chapter ^^

“I’m not late or anything, am I?”  I said once I found Ryeowook in an empty room.  It had taken me five minutes of frantically running down the hallways and opening each door, wondering where he was.  I probably should have asked him which one we were supposed to meet in.

“No, of course not,” he replied.  He turned back to the computer screen and I noticed for the first time what room we were in.

“Wait a minute, this is a nurse’s office.”  I glanced around, taking in the file cabinets and the medicine cupboards around us.  I headed over to the desk, which had an oversized desktop computer on it.  Ryeowook was sitting on a large black swivel chair, one earbud in his right ear, the other trailing on the surface of the desk.  He was browsing through Youtube videos, his head propped up by his hand.

“Yeah.  I asked Joy if she could let me borrow her office for a little bit because we need wifi.”

“But aren’t patients not allowed to have internet access?”  We had a lot of freedom at the hospital, but access to modern technology was forbidden.

“I know.  But I convinced Joy.  She’s my psychiatrist and she’s really nice.  She’s on the younger side so I guess she’s more lenient than the rest of the doctors.”

“Oh.  That’s nice of her,” I replied.  It was weird.  Sunny had always turned down most of my requests.  I wondered why Joy was different.

“Mhm.  I also asked if we could use this room to practice throughout the week. We won’t have microphones or anything until the actual performance, but the office is soundproof so we can practice without a proper sound system for now.”

“We get microphones?”

“I asked Joy to ask Minah and I’m still waiting for a definite answer, but I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.”  Ryeowook returned his attention to the screen and continued browsing.  I pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

“Weren’t we going to do one of your songs?”

“Are you talking about the songs I composed?”  He gave me a puzzled expression.  I nodded in response.  “They’re nowhere near good enough.”

“Hey, I think they’re good enough,” I gave him a small smile but he shook his head.

“Not for me they aren’t.  Besides, I don’t have the instrumentals for any of them and it would probably be better if we had music to go along with them.  By the way, what do you think of this?”  He handed me the other earbud and I managed to get it into my ear before Ryeowook replayed the song he had been listening to earlier.

“Do you know Park Hyoshin?  The soloist?”

“Of course.  He’s one of the best vocalists I’ve ever seen.  One of the best vocalists in the entire music industry.”

“I know, right?”  Ryeowook’s eyes gleamed.  “I really like ‘Wild Flower’.  He gestured towards the video that was playing.  Park Hyoshin was seated onstage, a microphone in his hands and his eyes closed as his deep, husky voice filled the packed concert hall.  We both fell silent and stayed that way until the song was over.  When it was, Ryeowook leaned back in his seat and gazed at the screen with a look of pure admiration.  He sighed.  “But the thing is, I would never be able to pull it off because our voices are entirely different.  Mine is a lot higher-pitched and the best I can manage is the beginning.”

“So it’s hard for you to hit lower notes?”

“Yeah.  I can if I really try, but I just have a really weak lower register and it would sound really bad if I tried to do a cover of ‘Wild Flower’.  What about you?”

I raised my eyebrows.

“And you think I could manage to reach Park Hyoshin’s level?  Oh, please.”

“What’s your voice type?”

“Light lyric tenor.  I think.  I haven’t checked my range for a while and it’s been a while since I’ve tried to actually sing anything.  I used to take lessons at school, but I’m out of practice.”  I was getting a little worried.  It really had been a while.  What had I been thinking, agreeing to do a duet when I was so out of practice?

“Hmm.”  Ryeowook hesitated for a second and his eyes narrowed.  “This isn’t necessarily the best way to do things, but it’ll have to do for now seeing as we don’t have an instrument with us.  Sing the lowest note you can and do a chromatic scale from there.”

After determining my vocal range and having me sing a few scales, as well as a few other songs, Ryeowook nodded approval.

“That wasn’t bad.  There’s parts of your voice that could use some work, but that can only be achieved with more practice, and we don’t have that much time to fully develop your technique.  But it should be okay if we practice a little every day leading up to the performance.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Okay.  So what song are we going to do?  We need to decide on that before practicing anything.”

“Not ‘Wild Flower’ for sure.  We’ll keep looking.”

We spent a long time doing that.  In the end, unable to think of a song that Ryeowook thought would go with our two different voice types, we put on a random playlist of old ballads and let it play, hoping that we would come across one by chance.  Feeling a bit tired after a while, I found myself leaning against Ryeowook, my eyes slightly glazed from staring at the computer screen so intensely.  We listened to song after song and watched singer after singer together, but none of them seemed to satisfy Ryeowook.

Time ticked by.  Recreational therapy finished, and Joy the psychiatrist came into the room to shoo us out.  But using the argument that both of us never got any visitors anyways, Ryeowook managed to talk her into letting us stay during visiting hour as well.  She gave us a strange look, but surprisingly complied to our request.  After she left, Ryeowook adjusted himself in the chair and put his hand back on the computer mouse.  He opened a new tab and began searching up something else, and I closed my eyes, feeling a bit bored but not wanting to give up until we found a song.  Despite my insecurities about my vocal prowess, I really did want to perform with Ryeowook.  I wanted us to find a suitable song.  Not only that, Ryeowook was getting more frustrated with each song that passed by.

At last, he sighed as the song we were currently listening to came to a close.  The next song that came on wasn’t in Korean.  I listened to a few lines before recognizing it as Japanese.  My head jerked up in interest, causing Ryeowook to look at me in surprise.

“I know this song,” I said slowly.  I sat up attentatively and switched the tab back to the Youtube playlist.

“But isn’t that Japanese?”  Ryeowook tilted his head to the side.  “We can’t do a song in Japanese.  I don’t know how to speak Japanese.”

“I do,” I said.  I had been taking Japanese lessons for a few years now.  I remembered my mother insisting on them because the Japanese had a pretty big role in the marketing industry, and since Korea was their neighbor, it might come in handy one day if I needed to talk to Japanese business leaders as a CEO.  I gulped at the thought but pushed it out of my head.  I didn’t want to ruin the moment.  I forced myself to think about the current situation instead.

“You do?  But still, I don’t--”

My excitement was growing as the song progressed.  It had been a long time since I had heard it since it was an pretty old one.  I still had no idea what Ryeowook’s voice sounded like, but I knew the song would match mine well enough.

“No, just keep listening to it.  It doesn’t matter whether or not you understand Japanese.  Just listen to it and see if you think we could do a cover.”

“What’s the song called?”  The title was listed below the video, but it was in Japanese.

“It’s called ‘Story’.  By a singer named Ai.*  Now listen,” I said a bit impatiently.

The two of us watched as Ai, along with another female vocalist I didn’t know, crooned out the lyrics in her low, soulful voice.  At the end of it, Ryeowook looked conflicted.

“So what do you think?”

“I think it would be better if someone with a lower voice sang it,” he said slowly.  “Someone like you.  I mean, I like the song and her voice and everything, but I don’t know if I can do it.”

I bit my lip.  I really liked the song because the lyrics meant something special to me.  I explained this to Ryeowook and found a Korean translation of the song online.  I watched nervously as Ryeowook read through the translation.

“Like I said before, the lyrics are about about trust and friendship and loyalty and stuff like that,” I elaborated once he looked back up.  “And the song just seems really…”  I searched for the right words.  “Relevant to our current situation in this hospital.  And us.”

As I finished speaking, I realized how awkwardly that had come out and I glanced down at the floor in embarrassment.  I really wanted Ryeowook to say yes and I looked back into his face.

“Please?  Can’t you at least try?”  I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip and opening my eyes wider.  To my surprise, Ryeowook started laughing, his eyes crinkling up at the edges and his lips peeling back to reveal one of his genuine smiles.  I didn’t see those very often, and it made me smile as well.

“Sungmin hyung, you’re acting as if you’re gonna be punished if I said no.  There’s no need to act like that,” he said, reaching out a hand to muss up my dark locks.

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll try.”  He turned back to the computer screen and I watched as he found an instrumental for ‘Story’.  Unplugging the earphones from the computer, Ryeowook began blasting the music out loud.  “Let’s hear you sing it a few times by yourself.  That way we’ll both be able to tell which parts you’re best suited to sing.  And at the same time, I can get a better feel of the song and what it’s supposed to sound like.”

“Wait, wait.”  I paused the music and took the mouse from him.  After opening a website that had the lyrics in Romaji, I went back to the music tab and restarted the song.  “That might help both of us,” I said.”  Ryeowook nodded in response and without further ado, I began singing when the cue came.

The first time I went through the song, Ryeowook simply listened to me, his eyes closed and his head down.  He didn’t react in any way, even when I missed a few beats or went a little off-key during some verses.  After that, he hurriedly copied down the Romaji onto a scrap piece of paper on Joy’s desk and as I sung the song for the second time, he hunched his body over the desk, mouthing the lyrics to himself and making notes.  As he repeated this process three more times, I worked on my own technique.  With each repetition, my voice grew stronger and steadier.  Soon, I had memorized the entire song and didn’t have to sing with the Romaji in front of me.  By the time Ryeowook declared that he was ready to try singing the song by himself, I was pretty confident that my vocals were actually decent enough.

That is, until Ryeowook opened his mouth and began to sing.  Even though it was clear he was still a little uncomfortable with the pronunciation and tripped over one or two of the words, his voice itself was flawless.  I sat there with my mouth half-open, completely captivated by the way he sung, his voice high and a little nasally, but sharp, clear, and icy cold.  He had excellent control of his voice, and it never wavered once, even during the more difficult portions of the song.  His eyes would close when he was holding longer notes, and I could feel how much emotion he was putting into his performance.

When he finished and ran his hand through his hair a little sheepishly, having realized that I was watching him intensely, I couldn’t help but continue staring, still trying to comprehend how someone like him, so fragile and small-looking, could have such a unique and powerful voice.  It reminded me of the way ice water felt as it traveled down your throat to your stomach.

“Holy mother of God,” I said at last, my voice quiet.  Ryeowook looked away again, readjusting his grip on the paper.

“Well, it could still use some improvement,” he said in a flustered voice.  “It doesn’t sound nearly as good as the original.  I still think my voice is too high for this, but at least it doesn’t sound completely horrible.

“Holy…” I repeated after a few seconds, still at a loss for words.  “How the did you learn to sing like that?”

“Err--”  He flushed pink.  “I’m self-taught.”

I gulped.

“Honestly, Kim Ryeowook, you should be singing this song by yourself.  I’m nowhere near as good as you are and having me next to you would only make me look bad.”

“Hyung, this is supposed to be a duet!”  He said indignantly.  “And you’re making me sound a lot better than I actually am.  I still need to practice getting my voice to go lower”  But he was smiling.

“But that’s because you are a lot better than you think you are.  Stop selling yourself short.”  I felt my face break into a wide smile as Ryeowook ducked his head and muttered a flustered thanks.  It was strange, the effect Ryeowook was having on me.  If this was a different situation, I would have been burning up with jealousy.  Whenever someone was better than me at something, no matter what it was, I got angry with myself because I wasn’t as good as they were and I felt horrible.  But I didn’t feel that way right now.  Instead, I felt a strange sort of pride and admiration towards Ryeowook.

“Stop staring at me, you’re starting to creep me out,” I heard Ryeowook say, snapping me out of my thoughts.  “Can you help me with the pronunciation?  I messed up pretty badly on a few words.”

I shook myself out of my thoughts and scooted closer to him so I could correct him.  A little while later, Ryeowook began singing again, more confidently than before.  The second time went more smoothly, and he sounded even better than before, his voice soft and soothing, but just as powerful and well-executed as ever.

The last half hour was spent dividing up the lines and working on adlibs.  It was also decided that we would cut out the second chorus to save time.  Before logging out of Joy’s computer and leaving the room to join the others for dinner in the cafeteria, we went over the entire thing once, the two of us singing our respective parts.  Our voices blended together very nicely and it actually sounded good, even though my voice was deeper than Ryeowook’s and obviously inferior.  Even though Ryeowook kept on insisting otherwise, his voice did fit the song, especially his adlibs, which were admittedly higher pitched than Ai’s, but still just as beautiful.

After dinner, there was the usual: vital signs, closure group, meds.  I sighed softly to myself as I went through the routine.  As I was eating and talking to Heechul and CL, a thought formed in my head.  I began to wonder why it had never occurred to me before, how we did the same things day after day after day.  Different things happened every day, but for the most part, it was all pretty repetitive.  I was feeling restless for a reason I couldn’t really explain.

“Maybe it’s the fact that we actually did something more than interesting than usual today, which makes what we normally do seem boring in comparison,” Ryeowook said when I asked him about it after dinner.  “It’s been a pretty long day.”

“But don’t you ever feel like there’s nothing worth living for?”  Ryeowook looked up again almost immediately, a concerned expression on his face.  “Wait, no, I didn’t mean to phrase it like that.  But do you know that feeling?  That life can be really boring?  We all do the same things in life, regardless of whatever interesting things we try to do.  In the end, everything’s the same.”

“How so?”

“We get an education, find some sort of job, find someone to be with, maybe have kids, then die.  Whatever else happens, it doesn’t matter, because all our lives will follow that basic pattern.”

Ryeowook was silent for a few moments.

“Not really.  I don’t think I’ve felt that way before.”

“But you’ve been here for a lot longer than I have.  Doesn’t it get boring?  Staying here is kind of similar to that cycle I mentioned before.  It’s just on a smaller scale, I guess.”

“The thing is…”  Ryeowook’s voice trailed off and he stared up at his ceiling, closing his manga and setting it next to him.  “Remember what I told you before about the difference between self-harm and depression?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re linked, but there’s still a difference.  The thing about self-harming is that it’s done because of a variety of reasons, not just because you’re depressed.  And like I said a while back, I wouldn’t really consider myself depressed.  With self-harming…“  He swallowed and closed his eyes for a bit, his eyebrows furrowed.

“With self-harming,” he continued after about a minute.  “The main reason I did it was because I didn’t like myself and everyone around me made me feel like .  So at the time, I just didn’t think there was any reason not to self-harm because I thought they were right.  But I never attempted suicide because I saw no reason to give up on life.  I wasn’t exactly happy, but I didn’t want to lose everything.  Suicide is never the best answer because if you lose everything, there’s no going back.  Your pain may be gone, but literally everything else you ever valued will be gone as well.”  He gave me a look and I nodded.

“I know.”  I had heard many versions of what Ryeowook said from so many other people, including the hospital staff.  The difference between them and Ryeowook was that Ryeowook seemed like he genuinely cared, whereas the doctors seemed like they cared but at the same time, didn’t.  Their facial expressions, voices, and actions seemed concerned enough, but for some reason, I was never convinced by them.

“I’ve been clean for months now.  I don’t remember the exact amount of days, but it doesn’t matter, I guess.  I dealt with self-harming by distracting myself.  I literally forced myself to think about everything else around me.  I kept myself busy enough with therapy and reading and other things so that I didn’t have the time to cut.  Or didn’t have the energy.  I was tired a lot of the time and would have much rather attempted to sleep than get up and get a blade.  Not that trying to sleep worked, but it kept me focused on something else.”

“But you’re sleeping better now, aren’t you?”  About a week ago, Ryeowook told me about how the doctors had started giving him new medication to help him sleep.  It looked like it was working.  Recently, he had been scraping a few hours of sleep every night instead of none at all.  My own medication hadn’t been changed, but I figured it was only a matter of time before they tested it out on me as well.  I was glad Ryeowook was improving.

“Yeah.”  Ryeowook gave me a small smile.  “Anyways, the point is, I’ve never felt particularly bored because I forced myself to make things seem as interesting as possible so that I was too busy to think about cutting.  And I think it was also because of my roommate at that time.”

“His name was Kyuhyun, right?”

“He was literally the most annoying kid I had ever seen,” he sighed in exasperation.  “I don’t even know how he managed to sneak in his laptop and not have it confiscated.  I never mentioned it to the nurses, and I thought we had a silent agreement not to tattle on each other for doing things we technically weren’t supposed to do.  But he told the nurses about my pieces of broken glass and my pen caps and everything.  The .”

“But it ended up helping you, didn’t it?”  I retorted.  “I’m sure he was only trying to help?”

“He really was a brat,” Ryeowook shook his head.  “But if you think about it the long run, yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe,” I repeated absent-mindedly.  I sat up in the cot and adjusted myself so that I was more comfortable.  I liked hearing about Ryeowook’s life.  It wasn’t particularly interesting, but it was different from the life I was used to.  I liked hearing about his thoughts and how he dealt with his own problems.  They were different from mine, of course, but it was interesting to see things from a different perspective.

“What about your eating disorder?”  I said after a while, remembering how he had suddenly showed up today at lunch, and also dinner.  “How did you deal with that?”

He shrugged.

“Therapy.  I’m still working on it,” he said shortly.  I didn’t press any further and merely nodded in response.  I knew by now that when Ryeowook didn’t elaborate on a topic, that meant he didn’t want to discuss it further.  He liked his privacy and even though the two of us were close, he had things he liked to keep to himself.  We were quiet again.  I returned to doing nothing in particular, and Ryeowook returned to his manga again.  We were in our rooms, even though it wasn’t time for us to sleep yet.  I would have asked Ryeowook if we could practice the song again, but I had a feeling that the staff wouldn’t appreciate us borrowing the computer and singing at night.

Picking up one of my sketchbooks from its spot under my bed, I flipped it open to a fresh page.  With a pink pen, I began writing down the Japanese lyrics to ‘Story’, mouthing the lyrics to myself as I did so.  I was still bored, and I needed something to do.  I also wanted to try taking Ryeowook’s advice.  Our two contexts were different, but maybe keeping myself busy would help me change my outlook on life.  Maybe it was just a phase, as Sunny said so often.  I snorted to myself as the thought crossed my mind.  But it never hurt to try.

It was strange how I was much more willing to take Ryeowook’s advice over Sunny’s advice, or anyone else’s advice.  I frowned.  Now that I thought about it, their advice was different in some parts, yet very similar in others.  Sometimes their advice was actually of help-- it was mostly Ryeowook’s that did-- and sometimes it wasn’t.

Something else crossed my mind, and I flipped back several pages in my sketchbook.  Although we all were given journals at the beginning, my most private thoughts were always penned into my sketchbook, just in case one of the staff picked it up by accident.  I found the entry I was looking for and read it to myself quietly.  It was from the day I had lost my temper at Sunny for the first time.

Sunny apologized after the incident.  She told me that she didn’t mean it and that she should have tried to initiate our so-called friendship more slowly.  She also told me a bit about her childhood and how mean her parents were to her because she came from a wealthy family.  They didn’t allow her to play with the other kids because she was of a higher social status.  She just wanted friends, but she still ended up growing up alone.  She said she didn’t want others to feel alone like she did, so that’s why she ended being a doctor.  So she could talk to others and help them.  That’s why she’s so over-eager and bright and cheerful and so willing to throw herself into these types of situations and offer help.

That’s a big, fat ing lie.  None of her advice ing helps.  Ever.  Follow your dreams and find something that motivates you to do better.  Don’t think too badly of yourself.  You’ll be able to get through this..  Talk to me about what’s bothering you.  I want to help.  Just go and yourself, Lee Sunkyu.  None of you really care.  All of you are so ing fake.  You only do this because you get paid for it.  It sickens me, the way you treat us.  We’re not stupid.

I put down my sketchbook and narrowed my eyes.  Now that I was taking the time to think about it more carefully, it wasn’t quite the truth.  I glanced over at Ryeowook, then at the angry scribbles on the page, created when I had been too frustrated to bother paying attention to what I was writing.

Then I remembered the hug from earlier today and how similar it had been to Ryeowook’s hugs.  Wordless, warm, and maybe even comforting, had I not been so shocked that she was actually hugging me.  Her hugs weren’t the only thing similar to what Ryeowook did to comfort me when I was upset.  Her words were sometimes similar as well.

Sometimes, Sungmin, I told myself.  Sometimes.

But think about it.  It’s only sometimes that Ryeowook’s words help.  Ryeowook doesn’t know exactly what advice will help either, just like Sunny.  His advice is generally vague because the best he can do is just be there.  Just think about it.  A lot of Sunny’s words from that day, and from a lot of other days, sound similar to Ryeowook’s.

I snorted rather loudly.

“Please, Sungmin.  You know that’s not true,” I muttered under my breath.

No, no.  Think about those times where Ryeowook messed up too.  It doesn’t happen as much as it’s happened with Sunny, and you were a lot less-inclined to lose your temper with him, but it’s still happened.

“Hyung, is that supposed to be me?”  I looked up to see Ryeowook standing in front of me with his eyebrows raised.  I belatedly realized that the page where I had written that entry was right next to the drawing of Ryeowook I had done on the same day.  My eyes widened in embarrassment as I looked at Ryeowook, then the rough sketch.

“Uh… yeah.  I guess,” I mumbled.  “I… I did that while back because I was bored.”

“My hair isn’t that long,” he scoffed.  “But other than that, that’s actually really good.  There’s a resemblance.”

“Oh, I don’t normally draw people,” I admitted.  “You’re the first real-life person I’ve ever drawn.”

“Really?  I’m honored.”  Ryeowook raised his eyebrows again and walked back to his cot.  He flopped down onto it again and yawned.  I watched him for a long time.

“I have a question, Ryeowook,” I suddenly asked.

“Yeah?  What is it?”

“Do you talk to Joy?  Like, actually talk to her?”

“Sometimes.  Not all the time, though.”

“Do you trust her?”

“Up to an extent.  Why do you ask?”  He looked up at met my eyes curiously.

“Do you think that…”  I paused for a few seconds.  “Are you more inclined to follow a certain word of advice if it comes from someone you trust, rather than if it comes from someone you don’t trust?  Even if the advice is similar?”

“Of course,” he said.  “Isn’t it natural for someone to think like that?”

“I don’t know.”  I was thinking about Sunny.  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was, even though one side of me kept insisting that she could not be trusted.  I went over the evidence again in my head and the similarities between her and Ryeowook.

“Well, it’s really up to us whether or not we want to trust others.”  Ryeowook’s voice interrupted my thoughts.  “People can tell us whatever they want, it’s up to us whether or not we want to believe them.”

“True.”

“Honestly, life is only what we make it out to be.  Remember what I said earlier about how I stopped self-harming?  About how I forced myself to stay distracted?”

“Yeah,” I said, only half-listening because I was still thinking about Sunny and her words.

“Forcing myself to stay distracted was my own choice.  At the time, Joy told me about a bunch of different ways I could stop and she made me do extra self-reflection exercises every day.  And she actually gave me a physical list she made of things I could do to distract myself.”

“Did you end up following the things she put on the list?  Was reading on there?”  I asked.

“Kind of.  But it was weird in a way.  Technically, I could have chosen not to follow the stuff on her list at all.  And I could have chosen not to do anything she ever told me to do.  But I still chose to follow some of her advice.  If you think about it, none of us are ever forced to do anything in life.  Remember what you said about the cycle?  We technically don’t have to do any of that.  Who says we have to go to school?  Who says we have to go to work and buy a house and raise a family?”

“Well--”  I started.

“We technically don’t have to do any of that.  We could ditch every day.  There’s no law saying that we can be forced to get an education.  We don’t have to work.  We could technically live in the sewers or the forest or under a bridge or something and steal food to survive.”

I had never thought about it that way before and I nodded slowly.  What he was saying made sense.  It was far from conventional and seemed very strange to me, but it did seem logically sound in a twisted way.

“And here, in the hospital?  Who says we have to take medication?  Who says we have to sleep when it’s time to sleep?  Who says we need to follow the doctors’ advice?  It’s probably not the smartest thing to do, but who says we can’t break down all the doors and kill all the staff and escape into the streets and go back to our homes?”

I stared in surprise, my mouth half-open.

“Yeaaaah,” I said, drawing the word out.  “That’s probably not the smartest thing to do.  We could get arrested for something like that.”

“You’re right.  We could.  But what I’m trying to say is, we’re free to make our own choices in life.  People can try to force us to do things, but we’re never powerless.  If you think about it, everything we do is up to us.  We can change anything, anytime.  Right now, if that’s what we wanted.  There’s nothing stopping us from making whatever we want out of our lives.  We’re a lot freer than we think.”

I didn’t notice the faraway, wistful look in Ryeowook’s eyes, but I did notice something else.  The phrasing probably wouldn’t have been as extreme as Ryeowook put it, but what he said about doing what we wanted with our lives sounded an awful lot like what Sunny would say to me.

Hi my readers/subscribers ^^ I actually updated twice in a month... I'm going to be updating this fic more often now that I have a solid plan for what I want the rest of the chapters to look like, and my goal is to finish the rest of this fic before the end of April XD this fic will have a total of 15 chapters so that means we're officially more than halfway through XD

I did an extra long chapter because of this... I would hugely appreciate it if more people commented on this fic because I do put a lot of effort into it and it discourages me whenever I update, then check the statistics the next morning and find that people read the chapter but didn't comment... I know that in the past I haven't been great at replying to comments and I'm really sorry about that DDDDDDDDDDDD; but I promise that I'll reply to all of them from now on... please do comment because every comment means a lot to me and I want to know what all of you are thinking when you read this ^^ your comment can be literally anything you want to say to me (as long as it isn't a simple "please update soon!"  because I want real feedback on this, or anything mean) ^^

Thank you for reading, comment, subscribe, and upvote if you haven't already, and have a lovely day everyone ^^

*If anyone wants to know the song that Sungmin and Ryeowook were singing, it's a cover of 'Story' by Ai that they did in SS4 Tokyo, and it's really a beautiful song... link HERE, and there's also English subs.