I don’t think… I'm not in love with you 

Cans of empty beer are littered around Donghae's lethargic body — almost like a piece of abstract art; Sorrow — and the male’s torso is half strewn over the hotel bed, leaving his legs dangling at an uncomfortable angle from the edge. The male is buzzing with emotion, the alcohol he consumed enhancing those tiny itches in his heart. Sighing deeply, Donghae wrinkles his nose in disgust of himself when his breath comes out smelling heavily of beer. On thinking about the situation he was presented with some hours ago, Donghae feels his sore and red eyes sting more, but fortunately, he’s cried so much that the tears have already dried beyond that of a desert’s. His head throbs at the prospect of returning to work and having to see him every day.

Sehun. The cute boy who just began making his heart flutter, and then manipulates Donghae and crashes the elder’s hopes; making Donghae immobile in this cycle of love. The more he thinks about it, the less upset Donghae becomes. It’s only his pride that is deeply wounded, and Donghae has no one to blame but himself for being so stupid. Even Hyukjae has warned him about Sehun, yet he chose to disregard the opinions of others.  Although, after meeting Sehun, it’s not like Donghae hasn’t received simple happiness. He has. And that’s where the problem lies. Donghae doesn’t feel as hurt as he should, and he doesn’t feel as angry as he should be. On the contrary, he feels relief wash over him like cool springs, because he honestly couldn’t imagine a future with Sehun like that. At least, not after the incident anyway.

He really did like Sehun at one point. And he still does, even now, despite only a little. The boy came into his world in a puff of whooshing magic and glitter and sparkles, and even though Donghae knew the boy is too good to be true, he still had a brief reverie. And now that the dream is over, Donghae finds himself unable to cross the channel bordering dreams and reality. He's stuck in no man’s land.

He really is a fool.

“Arghh!” Donghae groans loudly, and kicks his legs against the carpet of the hotel room in frustration, only to whimper the following second when his stomach rumbles unpleasantly, along with the volcanic eruptions in his head which worsen by at least a tenfold. Every cell in his brain feels like it is electrocuted, the pain thumping with his heartbeats in shards.

He wishes he could talk to someone right now. To release the burden and have someone criticise him.

He wants Hyukjae to be here to give him a tight hug because Donghae always finds his scent comforting and soothing, and his touch like a mother’s. He wants Hyukjae to be here, because, Hyukjae has always been the selfless one in their relationship, and Donghae wants Hyukjae to abandon whatever he's doing and just hold him together.

He needs a confirmation from Hyukjae that it’s not the end of the world, and that everything will be all right.

•••

Hyukjae frowns.

Jieun, on noticing this, asks, “Is something wrong, oppa?” Hyukjae sends a gummy smile and shakes his head.

“Actually, can you quickly look over the stove whilst I check something on my phone?” Without waiting for her reply, Hyukjae wipes his hands on the frilly apron tied around his torso as he goes into the living room, where his phone is charging. Something boils in his stomach, making Hyukjae have a bad feeling about what’s going to happen. The male believes in bad omen body and soul, for the last time he felt something this weird and uncomfortable is when his father had been involved in a minor car accident. He had the same thump of his heart when Donghae told him of his first boyfriend, and when Donghae had his first kiss and everything.

Quite true to his prediction, Hyukjae panics on seeing a large number of missed calls and when he expands it, a long list of Donghae's name meets his sight. Checking the time of the most recent missed call, which is less than an hour ago; Hyukjae unplugs his device and calls back immediately.

“I’m so sorry Jieun, but this is urgent. I need to go, I'm sorry!” And then the male dashes out of the front door.

•••

“Hello?” Hyukjae's voice comes through the speakers of the device.

Donghae remains silent into his phone, mind clouded with heavy thoughts.

“Donghae, speak to me,” Hyukjae's calm voice breaks through the former’s train of thoughts.

“Hyuk, I finally realised something today…” The male begins but finds himself choked with emotion, his eyes stinging and nose runny. To Hyukjae, he sounded like a lost boy. “I'm not even ‘okay’ to him because I'm just a stepping stone for everyone to use. They all step on me, ignore my feelings and existence. It hurts.”

Donghae wails out, “I'm just a joke, aren't I? No wonder you said you would never love me, no one can! Why would they love me anyway?” The boy continues insulting himself, trying to find an excuse for his stupidity yet finding none.

Hyukjae remains silent on the other side.

“I don’t want to live here any longer, oh god! I'm such an embarrassment, I think I need to move to a different country at this rate.” Donghae starts to bawl into the phone, crying so much that his body has to force itself to take in oxygen in sharp, ragged breathing. “I'm so tired, Hyukjae, so, so tired.”

Hyukjae keeps Donghae company for the next two hours, willingly listening to Donghae's rants turn into curses turn into sobs of wallow misery. Meanwhile, slowly, Donghae's emotions begin to sink down to a level of serenity, or perhaps it is due to the effects of alcohol catching up on the male. His eyes are feeling droopy and tired, and pitch-blackness conquers his vision blink, after blink, after blink, after…

“Open the door.” Hyukjae huffs through the speaker.

Donghae's eyes flutter open as confusion and drowsiness swarm the chocolate orbs, the male putting aside his phone momentarily to make sure he’s heard knocking sounds on his door. True to his belief, four rapid knocks come soon after, and Donghae can only wonder what the heck is going on before his sock-clad feet paddle to the wooden door to press down on the handle and pull open.

Standing in front, with an I-can't-help-it grin and a nonchalant shrug when Donghae's eyes widen comically, Hyukjae ends the call as he raises his other hand, a grocery store plastic bag filled with cans of beer.

In the moment, all of the unfairness of life, the bad memories and the good memories of Sehun, the dull thud of his heart and the feeling of wetness accumulating again in his sore eyes don’t matter. Donghae leaps onto Hyukjae, latching onto his best friend and buries his head in the elder’s chest; tears quickly soaking the tough fabric of Hyukjae's blazer jacket.

The taller of the two gently closes the door behind him and puts the bag down on the bed, taking one of his hands to brush the soft locks of Donghae's hair out of the male’s eyes as the other rubs comfortingly into the latter’s back. Hyukjae, to Donghae, smells of honey and berries. Donghae leans into the touch. 

“What are you doing here?” Donghae breathes, and yelps when Hyukjae walks into the bathroom forcefully, hands holding his head in place as Donghae's sight lands on the state he's in, reflected by the truthful mirror.

“I'm here to show you the real Donghae,” Hyukjae says.

The brunet shoves the hands away and rushes back into the bedroom, crashing onto the bed and hiding his face away in shame. “I'm too ashamed to meet him, I'm so ugly right now,” he wails in misery.

“Why?” Hyukjae asks, crouching down next to Donghae. “Is it because you’ve been talking bad stuff about this Donghae? Or is it because you're angry at him for falling into someone’s trap?” His gentle and soothing voice makes Donghae take a peek at his best friend, before diving back into his arms that enclosed around his head.

The shorter’s voice comes out muffled by the bedding. “I just know I'm really ugly right now.”

Hyukjae smiles dolefully, looking away and adding, “You’re right, the mirror is unable to reflect your most beautiful qualities. Because…only I know those areas.”

Donghae turns his head to look at Hyukjae properly.

“Even if Donghae is swarmed with work, he will still willingly cast everything aside to comfort friends. Even if his older brother, sister, and brother-in-law always take advantage of him, he will still think of it as a type of happiness of being needed by others. Even if another person hurts him, he will still see the other’s goodness. Out of the entire world, I’m unable to find another Lee Donghae like this, worthy of the two hours drive to be here with you.”

Hyukjae twists his body to sit down by the bedside as Donghae sits up, the two looking into each other’s eyes to find strength. “Although, this Lee Donghae also has bad traits. One of the biggest would be not wanting to see problems in others, yet he always sees faults in himself. Why dislike yourself because of other people’s mean actions? You really must change this shortcoming.” Hyukjae takes a deep breath and holds Donghae's hand tightly in his.

“You must believe that you're a person worthy to be loved and treasured by your family, friends, co-workers and that good man who is yet to come.”

Donghae finally lets his tears drop, sniffles escaping his pursed lips as he rests his forehead on Hyukjae's shoulder. The raven head smiles and pats Donghae's cheek to comfort the male, and Donghae immediately feels much better. Donghae wipes his tears and snot on the blazer he’s been leaning on, with Hyukjae sitting there.

“Do you want some tissues?” Hyukjae offers.

To this, Donghae laughs; drying the last bit of those salty waterworks. “I've already wiped them. On your top.”

“Hyukjae merely rubs in circles on Donghae's back, “Stop crying now, silly thing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mirror,” Donghae says earnestly.

“You're welcome.”

Hyukjae takes off his blazer and hands the item to Donghae to wipe more of his bodily liquids, with Donghae smiling that bit more.

He doesn’t need Sehun — he only needs someone like Hyukjae who will hand him their jacket for Donghae to dry his tears on. A person who will drive for two hours on the spur of the moment from just one prompt. A man, who makes promises of ‘I’m here for you’ and keeps it.

A man who is another replica of Hyukjae, but not Hyukjae — because they're best friends and nothing more.

Because it’s impossible for Hyukjae to love him.

•••

Some days later, in the Lee residence, Mrs. Lee watches with a worried eye as her son (in his armed rubber gloves and bandana to push back his hair) with a brush in one hand and a bottle of bleach in the other, starts to scrub the bathroom toilet furiously. Despite the curiosity, she does not stop him.

Rather, she says in mild amusement, “Lee Donghae, what are you nervous about?”

Donghae adjusts his rectangular framed glasses and replies, “nervous? What are you talking about, mum? I’m not nervous. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

She walks closer until she’s bending over and observing how the inside of the toilet is squeaky clean from the rough scrubbing Donghae is giving. “You really don’t know yourself well: the day before your university entrance exams, you scrubbed the toilet like crazy. The day before your first job interview, you were here, doing the same thing. And the day before your first presentation. What exactly are you scared about this time?”

Donghae huffs weakly in protest. “I really do not understand you, the toilet is dirty, therefore, I am cleaning it.”

Mrs. Lee sighs, “If you say so.” Before she turns to leave, she adds with a smirk, “don’t forget to clean every inch of it! Thank you for doing my job.” Humming a cheery tune, she walks away, leaving to Donghae the sound of the stairs creaking as she ascends to the computer room.

As soon as the male is left alone, the memory that has been plaguing his mind pops up again.

Donghae doesn’t really remember much of their conversation, all he knows is that they’ve talked more, drank more, went out to buy more beer in order to drink even more, and then they talked for some time before finally hitting the bed with a silent prayer that the hangover won't be as bad.

Turns out the prayer didn’t work.

When Donghae wakes up, he squints his eyes before opening because already, he could feel the sun’s piercing rays behind his lids. After finally gathering the courage to open his eyes, he feels the slight ache between his neck and shoulders. There seems to be a lump where the pillow is, and Donghae turns around sleepily to realise that no, it’s Hyukjae's arm in place of pillows.

Oh.

Hyukjae.

Wait, what?

Lo and behold, Hyukjae's glinting eyes seem to pierce Donghae's mind more than the sunlight sweeping in, and at once the headache is gone and the male is as alert as ever.

There is more to the memory, for as the second hand ticks on, Donghae regains more of the lost fragments of what happened. But, being stubborn, Donghae refuses to remember, by not thinking about it, of course.

“Stop stop stop stop stop…” he chants, shaking his head at the same time.

Just then, his phone rings. Donghae is about on reach into his pocket when he notices the rubber gloves on his hands, and twitching a distasteful expression, he shakes off the dirty thing and with his clean hand takes out the phone. Recognising the number from work, he hastily presses the accept call button and brings the device close to his ear.

“Hello, Donghae speaking,” he answers gruffly.

After listening to the person on the other side for some time, he replies, “yeah, sure, but it’s my day off today.”

“Okay, let’s meet tomorrow,” he eventually says, and soon afterwards hangs up.

Perhaps this is a punishment for not wanting to face the truth, but somehow — don’t even ask Donghae because he doesn’t know — the phone slips out of his hands as the male is about to put it back in his pocket. With slow motion vision, Donghae gulps as the device summersaults and splashes into the toilet with a fresh plop.

.

At least, the toilet is clean.

•••

Sitting in the phone repair shop, Donghae could only grit his teeth as the man in front continues to tut and voice out his dissatisfaction on:

“Just tell me if it can be fixed or not,” Donghae sighs, feeling no energy whatsoever to deal with anything in life.

“It’s going to cost around the same — if not more — to fix this than to buy a new phone. Why don’t you consider getting a new one; one that’s up to date?” The seller suggests.

When Donghae doesn’t say anything, the man picks up a sleek black phone lying on the desk and begins to describe its wonderful features — a reason why Donghae should use it instead.

“Take a look at this one, it’s the most popular one in the market right now. Many celebrities use it. It’s multi-functional; take pictures, browse the web, play different instruments; email, phone calls, social networks like Facebook can all be accessed.”

He looks up with hopeful eyes at Donghae.

“So what you're trying to say is,” the brunet accentuates every word of what he is going to say next, “that if I use this model; I will have to spend time learning those functions?”

“No! It’s very simple, the main point is that you only need this one phone to have the whole world at your beck and call.” He makes a grasping motion with his hands.

“More like my lifestyle will be controlled by that,” Donghae points to the innocent touchscreen plastic.

“How about this? I’ll lend you this new model whilst I fix your old phone.” As he speaks, he hands over the thinner device into Donghae's palm.

Donghae immediately begins poking here and there, and eventually, the seller couldn’t take it anymore. He takes it back and turns it on for the technology-dummy in front of him. Jokingly, he says, “I advise you find someone who’s good with technology.”

“Finding someone,” he contemplates, “will require me putting in effort and emotions, only to break up, and self-heal from the wound. It’s not worth it,” the male muses. “I only need a friend who’s an expert with technology.”

•••

Back at home; Mrs. Lee continues to voice her complaints about the computer to Hyukjae, who from time to time swallows a smile.

“It doesn’t listen to me at all! As soon as I turn on the computer, there will be a lot of pop-ups, and as soon as I close one, another one opens and so I'm having to close one after another when they keep appearing! I don’t know what to do,” for the new learner Mrs. Lee who has just gotten her hands on technology, the concept of computer virus is still very new to