Kyuhyun knelt beside his dead body,  hands clasped together, muttering something incomprehensible. Across him was another man, clutching the dead body's palms, also muttering.

"Kyuhyun-ssi, what are you doing? He can't hear you."  Mary yelled at the ex-KPop idol but now her only companion in a dark street. If that is the correct descriptor, she can't ponder on its political correctness now. It was getting darker and colder for a Seoul summer night.

"Am I really dead?" Kyuhyun asked, his eyes fixed to the now shaking, but alive, guy across him.

Mary rolled her eyes. Of course Cho Kyuhyun was dead. She does not want to be a snob and unsympathetic to Kyuhyun's earthly passing. But the thing is, when you are dead, you always know. And of course, Kyuhyun have already realized this eons ago. It's true that the accident happened barely minutes ago; but once you are dead, your lifetime, or at least your last breathing moment, will seem like light years away. So, perhaps in a sort of detached way, Kyuhyun knew he was dead. He was even staring  at his own lifeless body and at one of his hyungs crying and praying over him hoping that would help bring him back. Yet somehow he felt that praying, and crying, would help.

That is why he had to ask, not 'if he is dead?". But the question he asked was, 'is he really dead?'

He looked back up to the girl who could apparently see him. The girl's dress ruffled in the wind, her eyes noticeably glassy in the dark. He could only feel the wariness in them.

"Am I really dead?" he asked again. A stretcher came into his view along with three other rescue workers. They worked on his dead body, attaching straps and foams, then gradually lifting him, his body, towards the ambulance.

"Stop muttering!"

It was the girl, only now she was pulling him away from the accident site. Kyuhyun doesn't even realize how she managed to drag him away.

"We need to get away! Faster, walk faster! Aah, run!"

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