warning: kind-of suicide-attempt 
ADDED! PLEASE SCROLL DOWN TO '4:55 PM' FOR SUNGJONG'S SCENE—added for those who asked me to post it.

i told myself i'd never quit 
but i don't know 
at best i've built a pyramid 
of broken bones 

Nobody knew what happened. They just thought Sunggyu had finally lost it. All of them had come back to the dorm a few hours ago. Things would’ve been okay but having Infinite’s leader staring into space at the dining table was making the others restless. Hoya, who was about to go from being nice to Sungjong to punching the guy for making mean remarks at Sunggyu’s state, told the others he would handle it.

After all, he was probably the only one who knew a few things more than the rest. (He had been the only one who cared enough.)

◁◁

It was a few days after Halloween when it had happened.

6:30 PM.

They were having their meals at the dining table. All seven of them, plus Myungsin. It was now their usual Sunday routine. They celebrated their Halloween on Friday by watching the film marathons on the cable signal Myungsin showed them how to hack. Hoya swore she would’ve past as a boy.

Nobody knew why Inception had been in the marathon. Nobody cared to ask, they were just psychologically creeped out and went right into the next film with their heads still spinning from the world within a dream within a world within a dream. Maybe Myungsin did ask, since she had officially become their part-time Party Pooper after Sunggyu.

Nobody knew the answer.

Also, Kim Myungsoo had been there for most of the night, which was a miracle, even if he had been glowering at Myungsin and Sungyeol like they were his misbehaved children. Even now, as they were gobbling down dinner, Myungsoo sat with them, eyeing the girl over his bowl of rice like she had betrayed his trust. But Myungsoo didn’t know trust, all of them knew that. He didn’t know how to trust because he could not be trusted. Not in Hoya’s eyes at least. But Hoya figured Myungsoo always eyed the girl that way because he felt like she was an intruder who invaded their home.

That was probably it. They weren’t that close, so that must’ve been how their relationship turned out.

However, the girl seemed to be getting along well with everyone else, especially Sunggyu. That felt extremely nice since Hoya hadn’t seen their Resident Party Pooper look this alive, ever since, well, ever since he’d known him. The dancer had even heard Sunggyu’s real laughter a few times, which was a wonderful sound — but anything was better than the leader’s nagging, so, maybe that didn’t count. Sunggyu probably had the most annoying voice after Myungsoo. Hoya had no idea how he had survived this long.

(He also had no idea how Sunggyu could put up with them for this long. It was admirable, really.)

A pair of chopsticks clattered into his, over a grilled plate of pork. Hoya arched his eyebrows at it, about to glance up and growl for the prick to scram. His threat got stuck in his throat when Myungsin blinked back at him, chewing slowly with closed. She only stared at him, he stared back.

‘This girl, seriously.’

Hoya hadn’t even noticed the table had gone very still, as the others became avid spectators of this feud.

With his own chopsticks still hovering over the plate, he reached for his water before he could choke from having his dinner go down the wrong pipe.

At Myungsin’s side, right opposite Hoya, Sungyeol fidgeted. The frail leader watched Hoya over his untouched plate. Woohyun cleared his throat awkwardly by Hoya’s side.

“Now, guys… there’s really no need—”

The girl swallowed her mouthful before retreating her chopsticks back, “Have it hyung. I just like Woohyun hyung’s cooking that’s all.”

She smiled at Hoya, making him feel bad. How was he supposed to take the meat without looking like a jerk now?

“I don’t even like grilled pork, I just like hyung’s cooking.”

When Hoya didn’t move, she rolled her eyes, got up (because, short) and put about three pieces of meat on his plate for him.

The table seemed to exhale simultaneously as if they’d been holding their breaths. Everyone was about to go back to their food when they heard Myungsoo snort. The grim curves of his lips seemed to be hiding secrets and mocking them at the same time.

“What?” said Myungsin, eyes filled with polite distrust.

Hoya tried to stuff two pieces of pork into his mouth very slowly as to not disturb the argument that may or may not be going on. His ears were still listening, though. Sungjong, who was beside him, chewed each bite as if he might come across a whole chili.

“I didn’t know you could lie.” shrugged Myungsoo.

The table stiffened.

Myungsin looked like she’d just been slapped. But asked in a surprisingly calm tone, as if she was negotiating with a child, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Myungsoo looked up from his food. He was the only one with rice while they all had spaghetti. Because the guy was a prick like that.

The visual rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious and they were all just retarded.

“You love grilled pork. But you just told him you didn’t like it.” He nodded roughly in Hoya’s direction, shrugged dismissively before going back to his meal, “So I meant what I said: didn’t know you could lie.”

Hoya stopped chewing immediately. Was he the only one who didn’t know she liked the meat he was chewing? Well, too late now.

Myungsin blinked like someone had just splashed cold water on her after having slapped her in the face.

“How do you know she loves it?” Sunggyu frowned, his voice hollow and thin, “You guys don’t even talk.”

The girl’s face seemed to be as bewildered when she leaned curiously into the leader’s shoulder to get a good look at Myungsoo.

Dongwoo then piped up, “Are you like a secret fan? Did you go look her up on the internet—”

“I’m not you,” Myungsoo snapped. “I don’t go stalking people when they—”

And then as if realising what he was saying, he blinked, stuffed the rest of the rice into his mouth, mumbled something about how they were all pigs and whisked off into his room before any of them could say otherwise.

“What the hell?” muttered Woohyun. “Why’s he so worked up?”

Myungsin looked slightly unsettled when she glanced at Sungyeol whispering something like, ‘What just happened?’ Sungyeol shook his head, reached over to pick the last pork off Hoya’s plate and tossed it in hers without even asking the dancer.

Sungyeol kept his gaze steady when she made meaningful faces at him. He shook his head again and knocked his knuckles on her head. Hoya was thinking of taking the pork back when Myungsin made this noise like she was an irritated child who was told tomorrow was Monday (which it was). She pushed Sungyeol off with one arm when he tried to whisper something into her ear and leaned closer to Sunggyu, who habitually patted her head. The leader was just staring athis chopsticks without appetite.

Hoya took a discreet glance at the maknae, who knitted his brows disapprovingly at their leader. Hoya felt like kicking the maknae under the table for personal reasons.

Sungyeol whined intangibly, took the pork off of her plate and ate it himself.

The others didn’t even pay attention to them anymore, not even Dongwoo, who had long gone back to his food. They always behaved like they were from outer space, communicating in languages nobody could understand. Even their Resident Alien, Dongwoo, had given up after the first three tries.

It still fascinated Hoya, though. He kind of wanted that kind of friendship with someone. You probably needed to be really close to understand each other like that.

Woohyun mumbled something again about dinner being ruined. So Myungsin eyed him like he was the most complicated puzzle she’d ever played.

“You should be grateful we’re fighting over your food…?”

Their Resident Chef brightened up a bit after that, even when Sunggyu snorted at the remark. He still wasn’t eating. Hoya sighed into his food, too.

◁◁

so i sink down into your heart 
where i belong 
but in the end my secrets 
keep me alone

5:05 PM.

There had been a ruckus before dinner. Hoya could feel immense dread rattling in his bones. He had no idea how he knew but it was such a head-splitting hunch.

So he ran.

They had been running out of sodas. So Hoya and Dongwoo offered to buy. On their way back, the younger man started feeling restless and anxious. It wasn’t like him to feel this way. And the closer they got to the dorm, the darker and heavier the feeling. It felt like tears and despair.

Hoya didn’t even remember dropping the bags, he just started sprinting, not even bothering to take the elevator. He leaped up the stairs three steps at a time until he reached his floor. Hoya halted at the door. Heart racing. Vaguely, he recalled feeling like this once when he was twelve.

Hoya was in school when his grandmother had a . Nobody was home at the time; he wailed out of the blue in the middle of first period when the dread hit him in waves. The air had tasted of desperation and fear. He begged his teacher to take him home. Of course, nobody listened.

No one knew what was wrong with him, not even the crying Howon himself. Hoya only went home at the end of the day, when his hyung came to pick him up with equally puffy red eyes. He really should’ve ran home that morning. Because by the time anyone found his grandmother, it was noon and way too late.

She had passed away, cold and alone on the kitchen floor. They said it wasn’t the kitchen floor. They said his grandmother had died peacefully in her sleep. But he knew that wasn’t it. Hoya could still feel the cold white tiles against his skin when he cried himself to sleep in his mother’s warm embrace that night.

Hoya hesitated outside the dorm’s front door, not sure what he would find inside. The longer he stayed here, the more chance things could go wrong. So he punched in the passcode and pushed his way in.

“Is everyone here?” He asked in panic when he rushed into the kitchen. He probably looked a little crazy.

Sungyeol, who had been raiding the fridge, glanced behind his shoulder with a confused frown. Woohyun was by his side, fussing over his spaghetti sauce muttering something about distractions and idiots.

“Uh, Myungsin’s going through the scripts in my room, Sungjong is in Sunggyu hyung’s room and I saw him rushed out to the balcony…?” The tallest of them recited and started to look concerned. Woohyun still ignored them.

“Who? Sungjong?”

“No, Sunggy—”

“Oh .” Hoya cursed and ran off in the other direction.

He slid the glass door open with a bang, “Are you ing stupid!”

Sunggyu yelled and managed to grip onto the ledge before he could topple over. The guy had been sitting right on the railings as if they weren’t tens of floors above ground.

Despite the danger, he managed to retort back, “Are you trying to ing kill me too!”

It was getting dark and the dusk shone at Sunggyu from his side, the biting wind lashed violently through his hair and clothes. They seemed to be beckoning at the older’s skin to fly away with them.

“Well, that depends on what the you are doing out here.” said the dancer.

Hoya hurriedly stepped outside, warm feet against the cold tiles just like the ones where his grandmother had passed away on. He heard the glass door swivel shut behind him.

Sunggyu rolled his eyes, turning away from him once more to observe the darkening horizon. His bare feet weightlessly dangling fifteen stories from the unforgiving concrete below. The thought made Hoya’s head spin. In the back of his mind, he patted himself appreciatively for having sprinted this far up without even taking a break.

The things you’d do for your friends. Seriously.

“I was just thinking,” the wind carried Sunggyu’s weary words to his ears. His voice sounded thick like his throat had closed up.

“That doesn’t usually end well,” Hoya responded.

He padded a bit closer, still an arm distance away in case the older needed double of his personal space. He looked clearly upset.

Sunggyu might have chuckled, since his taut shoulders trembled. But it was getting dark and the shadows casted upon the man only made him look dead and brittle.

“Whatever,” the leader said quietly. “Worry about yourself.”

Sunggyu swung his legs so carelessly that it made Hoya’s insides squirm.

“Dude, can you please get down. You’re making me dizzy,” fidgeted Hoya.

The older unexpectedly barked out one laugh. But it just sounded as dark as the night. Just the kind of harsh laughter that only an immense ache from desperation, pain and extreme bitterness, combined into one, could conjure.

“I make you feel dizzy,” Sunggyu chuckled flatly. “You are making me dizzy. All of you.”

He might’ve just been saying this to the restless wind but Hoya knew better.

“That’s not what I meant.” He stated, trying to sound more stable than he felt.

Sunggyu’s lips curved to mimic a smile but he was wearing it all wrong.

“That was what Sungjong said. As if it would solve anything! But not that anyone would care,” spat Sunggyu, shoulders shaking. “I, always, always take the blame. Who the is Kim Sunggyu anyway? He’s a ing trash can. Shove all your garbage here, why don’t you, and wait for it to clean up your for you.”

“What bull had Sungjong said to you?” Hoya, angry and horrified, stared at Sunggyu. Didn’t Sungyeol say Sungjong had been in Sunggyu’s room?

It was silent except for the wind whooshing against Sunggyu’s clothes, hair and skin.

He’d only noticed now, in the silhouette casted by the waking moonlight, how thin Sunggyu had become. His sweater clung loosely to his frame, his jeans rolled up to his knees. Hoya finally managed to move forward to grip the safety ledge the older was sitting on.

The dancer watched how the growing darkness outlined Sunggyu’s side profile. His nose was sharp, his chin, his jaw, his neck were all angles. How hadn’t Hoya noticed this? He knew it wasn’t because of the shadows or the dorm lights hitting the man at odd degrees. Sunggyu’s shoulders were tensed, stiff and angular as his arms gripped the railing so hard Hoya could imagine his protruding knuckles becoming white.

“Sunggyu—” he made to grab the older firmly on one wrist, his heart cringing with guilt at the thinness of it. That was when he felt how much Sunggyu was trembling, shaking. The leader’s body started heaving more visibly as he forced out another laugh, one after another, desperate. Hoya thanked the harsh wind for keeping his stinging eyes dry.

“Sunggyu, quit this—”

“Should I? Quit this?” The man asked between his broken chuckles. He turned towards Hoya, who watched him helplessly, one hand wrapping tightly around the other’s bony wrist.

It was completely dark now, except the light from where they’d come out from. Hoya imagined himself staring at a skeleton in Sunggyu’s clothes with Sunggyu’s voice sounding all wrong and scent miserably sweet.

The man watched him with this maniacal glint in his eyes, that both screamed ‘save me’ and ‘let me go’ all at once.

“Hyung stop—”

“Yeah?” his voice rang sharp. The older man might’ve smiled at him but he couldn’t tell.

Hoya had been ready for it when Sunggyu lost his grip on the railings, by accident or on purpose Hoya didn’t want to know. He just sensed it would eventually come down to this.

The older let go of the railing completely just as Hoya yanked him by his arm so damn hard that it was a miracle his brittle bones did not snap. The man fell backwards and Hoya staggered trying to keep them both from toppling over.

“What the f—” his voice got caught in his throat when Sunggyu suddenly wrapped his brotherly arms around Hoya. He clutched him so tight as if the dancer was his lifeline — which he had been, only a few seconds ago.

", Howon. I think, I think I'm in love" Sunggyu laughed despite the tears trailing down his face like raindrops on car windows, "I'm not supposed to, I can't, but , Howon. I'm so sorry."

Hoya's breath hitched. Sunggyu had been crying all this time.

“Is that what Sungjong told you?” Hoya couldn’t look away, he was horrified at how broken and bony Sunggyu was. “That, that you can’t?”

When he reciprocated the hug, Sunggyu started sobbing.

He let his hyung cry, his tears were soaking the dancer’s shirt but he didn’t care right now. Hoya’s heart felt like it had been ripped open. He wondered how long the older had gone without a hug or warmth or anyone by his side. In the back of Hoya’s mind, a voice answered ‘probably since he’d met you’.

“, Howon. I’m sorry, but I love her.” After a while, he didn’t know how long, Sunggyu’s sobs subsided and he finally pulled his face away from Hoya’s damp shoulder. “—sorry. I shouldn’t, I know. But I can’t help it.”

Why was he apologising? Why did he say it like being in love might be the worst thing to happen to him? What the had Sungjong told Sunggyu? The older clutched onto Hoya’s shoulders so desperately as if the dancer was his only hope at sanity. And Hoya seriously would do anything to give him whatever he wanted. He’d even murder Sungjong if he had to. Right now he didn’t care.

Despite it all, the older was still kind of smiling, like it had been plastered onto his face no matter how ty he felt.

“Don’t apologise.” decided Hoya. “Screw him. Love whoever you want. You deserve it, hyung.” You deserve at least this.

Sunggyu sniffed tiredly, as Hoya tried to wipe away the tears on the leader’s face.

“I have no idea what I deserve, Hoya. But, I know I love her.” Sunggyu stared at him, eyes seeking reassurance, voice hushed. “Howon, I— I think I’m in love with her.”

“Then love her, hyung.” Hoya nodded without a second thought. His voice was so steady and confident that he could convince even himself that Sunggyu deserved this if he hadn’t been already.

“Hyung, love her. I support you.” Hoya pulled him into a rough hug, patted him encouragingly on his back.

“Congratulations, hyung! You’re not a complete loser after all.”

The older male pushed him off of him, “Ya.”

He punched Hoya unconvincingly on the chest. And then both of them started snorting and laughing obnoxiously at how pathetic that punch was.

A little while later, they both made their way into the warmth, arms supportive on each other’s shoulders. And when nobody was looking, Sunggyu turned towards Hoya with pleading eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Hoya somehow knew Sunggyu was not talking about his tearful confession.

◁◁

4:55 PM.

On contrary to popular beliefs, it was actually Sungjong who had planted the idea into Sunggyu’s head. He had been perfectly fine before that. He had been perfectly content with not knowing. But no, Sungjong just had to plant it into Sunggyu’s head and now it became so big that he could not avoid it even if he wanted to.

(He didn’t even want to anymore.)

“Hyung. Can I please talk to you?” Sungjong had just come into Sunggyu’s bedroom without knocking, one afternoon, while the owner of said room was changing his spoilt shirt due to another adventurous escapade, battling the kitchenette weaponry with Woohyun.

Or something like that.

Woohyun was making spaghetti, and Sunggyu swore on a six-month worth of meals that the gods of Culinary hated his guts.

But Sunggyu loved food, although lately he hasn’t been very hungry. And culinary is about making food, so having the gods of Culinary hating on him kind of defied every logic possible. 

Maybe the gods were American and they didn’t like chopsticks? 

Although he guessed that ever since the scholars introduced the term ‘global warming’ a decade ago, the world had been taking advantage of this dooms day concept to screw things up even more — ‘world’s gonna end anyway, who cares about bad luck?’

Well, ladies and gentlemen, bad luck would get you killed before global warming could even hunt you down.

But Sunggyu swore, he had the worst luck in this dorm. ‘Couldn’t a man change his shirt in peace?!’

So, the maknae barged in demanding that they needed to talk. Whatever had just gone wrong, Sunggyu would like to say upfront now, that it was not him. He didn’t do it.

“Uh, yeah…” Sunggyu grumbled, “Can I just… you know.” ‘Freaking change?’

Sungjong tapped his feet against the doorway, lanky arms crossed over his chest.

He clucked his tongue, “Now please.”

What the heck?

“Sir Lee, please allow His Majesty to rid himself of tomato sauce before you whisk him off, yeah?” came a teasing voice from behind Sungjong. Thank the gods for this damn girl.

The maknae twisted his head to side-glance and stuck his tongue out at her. She ignored the offense and easily squeezed into the room through the microscopic airway between Sungjong’s body and the doorframe (you probably couldn’t tell the difference). Then Sungjong threw Sunggyu this ‘you see?’ glare, and no, not really, he did not see. So he just frowned, and turned away to finish putting on his shirt. He turned back towards Sungjong again and opened his arms to indicate ‘there, done’.

Sungjong was now standing right behind Myungsin, watching her observantly as she half-dug into the comfort of Sunggyu’s bedcovers looking for something. And mind you, there were a lot of things on Sunggyu’s bed. His bed was practically a landfill made for Myungsin’s things.

“Uh, Myungsin?” said Sunggyu, uncertainly. Sungjong was watching Sunggyu with this hawk-like eyes as if he’d done something wrong. He was about to start feeling guilty until he realised that he didn’t even know what he was supposed to be guilty for.

“Um, hang on. I’ll leave.” Myungsin muttered as she crouched down and peeked under his bed, “I just need to find my script and then I’ll— whoa, you probably can stuff your own teddy bear with all this dust.”

Sungjong arched an eyebrow indicatively at him, like it was supposed to mean something. Sunggyu did not speak this eyebrow-language. He only knew a bit of English, Japanese and like, how to count from one to ten in Thai — that was it for foreign languages.

Then he caught a glimpse of the script on his desk, “It’s here, you idiot.” he griped and then went to snatch it before Myungsin could even turn around.

“Oh yay.” Myungsin mumbled, her expression not at all ‘yay’, “Thanks, hyung.”

She flitted towards him like she was made of air. Sunggyu couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Myungsin smiled, took her battered script from him, shouldered him against the desk on purpose and sprinted out the door. Sungjong clucked his tongue again. Sunggyu suddenly remembered that he had an appointment with a displeased Sungjong. He quickly wiped the unguarded smile off his face.

“So, hyung.” Sungjong said, sitting down on Sunggyu’s bed. Sunggyu wanted to wince, because dude, his bed. “What do you think of Myungsin?”

Sunggyu's eyes rounded, “What?”

“Park Myungsin. Do you… like her?” Sungjong asked, brows raised.

“No? Yes, like— of course, not? What are you—” Sunggyu spluttered.

The maknae crossed his legs in a graceful manner and placed his clasped hands on his knee. Gaze still boring into the leader.

“You don’t like her?” Sungjong pressed on innocently, “What don’t you like about her?”

“Wait, I didn’t—”

“Hyung.” The maknae cut him off, and damn it, the authority in his voice made Sunggyu effectively closed his jaw without having to be told. “You’re going to be thirty in a few years.”

Sunggyu frowned. He kind of still had six more years, right? His brows knitted and face scrunched into a ‘WTF’ expression. Not that it made much difference.

Sungjong sighed, “Don’t you think Myungsin is too young for you?”

The thought of Myungsin in that kind of way made him feel unsettled in the pit of his stomach. Sunggyu felt blood drain from his face, his skin turned hot and cold at the same time. He preferred not to think about it. Because he knew the feelings were there but he could not afford to acknowledge them. Sometimes, the thoughts would find their way into his mind at night, and all he could do was shove it away the best he could. Myungsin was the only subject he could ace in without having to study, so he hadn’t really thought about this.

“For me?” Sunggyu pointed to himself, like he wasn’t sure if Sungjong was talking to him. Or the wall behind Sunggyu. When was this building built again? He was sure it was younger than him.

Sungjong rolled his eyes, “Seriously.”

“Seriously, I don’t understand.” Sunggyu deadpanned, like he’d given up all hope. “Are you trying to do that idea-planting thing in that movie we watched the other night?” ‘Because that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do. Like, hello? The hero's wife died!’

“Seriously, hyung. Woohyun hyung told me what happened the other day Myungsin came over.” The younger pointed out like that was supposed to ring a bell.

“Which day? She comes almost everyday. Look, Lee Sungjong. You are being too vague, I have no idea what you are talking about. Is this about Woohyun? Or is this about Myungsin? Or about you?” said Sunggyu, hands on his hips. “You will need to be more specific.”

Sungjong stared at him, “Tuesday. I went out. Myungsin was with you. The door was locked! You were inside this room with Park Myungsin. And according to Woohyun, there were weird noises. Also, Woohyun insisted that she might not be fully clothed.”

Sunggyu blinked a few times and then he remembered. Oh.

“But how did— Woohyun was eavesdropping on us?” gaped the older.

Sungjong’s glare hardened into stone.

But it was nothing. (Not that it didn’t mean anything, because anything involving Myungsin always meant something to Sunggyu) Nothing as in, nothing happened. And he was worried because wasn’t it Myungsin’s secret? So did Woohyun find out?

“What were you doing to her, hyung?” Sungjong’s voice was ice-cold.

The younger made it sound as if Sunggyu was corrupting Myungsin. And that left a bitter taste his mouth, because a person like Park Myungsin cannot possibly be corrupted. The girl was too grounded for that. She was just that kind of person, and Sunggyu would like to say she might even be the one who, without knowing, had been corrupting him?!

“I didn’t do anything. I was just helping her out.”

Sungjong clucked his tongue, “How were you ‘helping’ her?”

Sunggyu rolled his eyes, “Didn’t you usually help her too? You know, the weird bruises on her… you know? You weren’t there, so I… did it.”

“You made Myungsin strip for you?” declared Sungjong. His eyes radiated Death and his words— WTF?

“Huh? Wait, I didn’t— what the hell Lee Sungjong?” fumed Sunggyu, eyes narrowing, like, he wasn’t sure if he should feel offended or hurt. Or both.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He’d go with both.

Sunggyu snarled, “What do you think I am? Some ert? No, I did not make anyone strip for any selfish purpose or reason, what the hell, seriously.” ‘She was already kind of like that before I found her’, Sunggyu would like to add but thought better of it, because that would be such a moronic thing to say.

“Okay. I’ll just assume nothing happened. Although, according to Woohyun, you refused to return her clothes when she asked for it. You said you were going to burn them.”

“What? No, I was just joking? Why would I go burning perfectly wearable clothes? And it was just a shirt, it wasn’t like I was hurting her or was making her walk around . We were just fooling around.”

“You. Fooling around.”

“Yes, Sungjong. I tend to do that once every ten years.” Sunggyu retorted. “Now please get out of my room. And stop this nonsense before the others hear and misunderstand.”

Sungjong let out a resigned sigh but did not budge. He turned towards the closed door and back to Sunggyu.

“Were you feeling as if your rights have been violated when I came into your room while you were half-?”

Sunggyu raised an eyebrow at such a sudden question. Why would Sungjong care? And wasn’t the answer obvious?

“Well, yes. I was. Very.”

Sungjong’s mouth twitched, like he was stifling a smirk that would’ve meant ‘gotcha’.

“Okay then. Did you feel the same way when Myungsin came into your room while you were changing? You seemed quite comfortable just now.”

Sunggyu blinked, “Uh… I haven’t actually thought about it?”

“Why not?” Sungjong pressed on. “We have known each other for more than four years and we are all guys. But you still feel violated when I barged in? Myungsin is a girl, isn’t she? And you’ve known her for what, three months? Four, max? And you acted like you’ve already seen each other . You weren’t exactly bothered when she rushed into your room while you were changing either, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t…?” Sunggyu had read somewhere that if you always tell the truth you need not remember anything. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to get angry right now. Because his head was still spinning from all these offending accusations. Seriously? What the hell.

Him and Myungsin? The most ‘together’ thing they’d ever done was like, hug. And the last time he checked, they were both fully clothed. Sungyeol and Myungsin probably had done way more intimate stuff, so why was Sungjong picking on him?

“Okay. So you like her.” Sungjong decided entirely on his own. That kind of ticked Sunggyu off.

Wasn’t this supposed to be his feelings? Why was Sungjong prying into Sunggyu’s feelings? And why the hell should Sunggyu explain himself?

As if the other could read his mind, he said, “Things could go wrong, hyung. Things tend to go wrong. I’m worried, that’s all. If something happens—”

Sunggyu felt like he’d just been slapped in the face by the worst insult anyone could come up with. It hurt.

“I’m not gonna hurt her and I don’t plan on hurting you guys, either. If that’s what you’re implying.” Sunggyu ran his fingers through his hair. He felt feverish and agitated, and completely insulted.

So this was what this had been about? Woohyun and Sungjong thought he wasn’t doing his job properly? Could Sungjong manage it better? What the did Sungjong know about the crap Sunggyu had to go through for them? He did not have the right to put Sunggyu on the spot like this.

It wasn’t fair.

“I know what I’m supposed to do and I’m not going to cause you guys any trouble. Okay? If anything, I am trying my best to hold Infinite together. Because if you haven’t noticed, it’s a complete wreck right now.” He raised his hands onto his head not quite sure if he was trying to keep it from exploding or keep the outside world from invading his skull. 

“But you wouldn’t know anything about that! It’s my job isn’t it? I have you guys to worry about. I don’t have the time of day to worry about who I might like or not like. I don’t even have enough days to reconcile with my family, who I have ran away from only to end up here. But you wouldn’t know anything about that either!”

Sunggyu was trying not to raise his voice, but it was becoming harder. He was supposed to be in a ing band! But that wasn’t even the point!

“Don’t ever think just because you caught me laughing or smiling once or twice, you think I am going to abandon ship. And yeah, I am sorry if I’ve ever done anything to make any of you think otherwise. Because I’m not— never- I have responsibilities I need to follow through. I don’t know what you were hoping for but I hope you can accept my apology, since it must really for you right now that I’m not going anywhere.”

Sungjong turned silent. His eyes casted down onto Sunggyu’s feet, as the older finished, almost heaving from making that long speech. Or maybe from the anger directed at the unfairness of it all.

“You make it sound like you’re not part of Infinite.” muttered Sungjong. Only a little more than a whisper.

Sunggyu sighed, closed his eyes and reminded himself that, if he told the truth he wouldn’t have to remember anything.

Sunggyu did not want to remember anything. He was sick of this chunk of melted iron inside every cell and fluid in his body. Nothing he said would ever be what the members wanted to hear. He could never please them. Most likely because it was Sunggyu. Nothing he did would ever be good enough for them. Ever.

And he had been okay with that. He had been so ing okay with that and every unnecessary burden shoved upon him. He had been surviving until now. Now that they were implying he was at the job. When they knew nothing.

Sunggyu did not ing need to apologise for having been a tiny bit happy. But maybe the mess would go away if he apologised enough.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to offer a smile he didn’t even have for himself, “Sometimes I forget what I am a part of.”

He is the one forgotten. It became his second nature. So sometimes… he tends to forget he’s more than just… Glue, trying to keep everything from falling apart… he forgets that he’s supposed to be part of the broken pieces too. And with mercy from either Love or Death, Sunggyu hopes, all this pain will eventually stop some day.

A/N:
I've written many scenes but I usually pick them out and post only the ones you would want to read (always myungyeolmyungyeolmyungmyungMYUNG), so sometimes I forget whether I've posted the details of a particular scene or not, that is why sometimes there is a lot confusion. OBVIOUSLY you guys are here for Myungsoo x Sungyeol, most of you anyways, and I don't think it's working since people are complaining there isn't enough MyungYeol when I did not even say I was planning on writing MyungYeol. I initally planned to write a Sungyeol-centric which focuses on Sungyeol and his life + struggles + friends. But I guess everyone just loves Myungsoo and all the superficial corruption of the damn world and impossible standards of distorted beauty that can only be achieved by plastic surgery and a fake nose and fake personality instead of anything of real value. So I don't even know what the heck I'm doing here when obviously this isn't where I belong. I don't write shallow stuff so yeah, that's just it. I'm sorry if I 'upset' any of you by writing something too deep for you to understand. But please do not complain to me about that or how there is no MyungYeol when I have already limited myself to a MyungYeol ending for you and I think that should be enough, since I didn't even plan on making it a MyungYeol story AT ALL but since you guys wanted it I am going to make it so PLEASE you are not the only one who is upset with me, I am upset with myself too. I apologise for not being able to please some of you and your whatever-you-wanted.