A/N: Two things: (1) I edited it so it won't have any Trigger Warning and won't have to require subscription before reading. I don't know if it's enough to remove ratings, but PLEASE do tell me if I should still rate it because I'm not really good with decisions. (2) From "On the 1260th Missed Call", I changed it to "What I Need" because it fits the story more. Sorry hehe

When we were younger, they taught us the art of giving.

They said it was better to give than to receive.

I wanted to change, so I learned.

I gave all of my care, concern, and sanity.

But maybe,

I gave a little too much.

I didn’t care.

“Hyung!”

Having Daehyun at the doorstep of my apartment was the last thing I was expecting today, but here he is, laughing at my bed hair like nothing happened few weeks ago. At first I thought I was dreaming, but still seeing him there even after rubbing my eyes for a couple of times proved me wrong – and I hate to be wrong.

“How did you get in?!” I shrieked, quickly picking up the clothes and underwear scattered on the couch and on the floor, and dumping everything into the laundry basket.

“Did you already forget about the duplicate keys Youngjae and I have?” He grinned, as he placed the plastic bag of food and chips on the kitchen counter.

“Oh.” At least he brought food.

“You did?”

“Well, not my fault.” I shrugged. “This is your first surprise visit since last year.” It was actually surprising to see him visit me after what happened, or maybe I was just not ready to see him again.

“Oh.”

“You didn’t know?” I asked, as I pulled something from the plastic bag, and tore the wrapper open.

“Well, not my fau –”

“Stop copying m–” I started, only to be yelled at a second later.

“OHMYGOODNESS NOT MY CHEESECAKE!”

“What the fu –”

“Watch your language young man.” I groaned. Can we even complete a decent conversation here? I felt the cheesecake being taken away from my hand and heard a muffled “The cheesecake is mine.”, before seeing Jung Daehyun make his way to the couch with his treasured plastic bag and cheesecake.

I rolled my eyes at his behaviour, but later took notice of the dark bags hanging under his eyes. Had he always looked this tired? Why did I not notice earlier? I leaned back on the counter and took time to observe my hyung. I was too wrapped up with my own feelings for Youngjae, and chose to ignore the regret I feel when Daehyun appears. Daehyun is not Youngjae, but he is still someone I hold dear. He has done so much for me, and knowing that all I’ve given in return is trouble makes me want to dig a hole of shame for myself whenever I see him.

Those eyes looked tired, but they still hold the look of care and concern you want to see.

Those hands felt rough, but they still have the indescribable warmth that you want to feel.

He loved me like his own brother even if I may be the reason of relationship complications between him and Youngjae. But I know he’s almost giving up. I know how much he wants me to stop, how much he wants me to change my own ways.

Whenever he stares at me, I see it. Whenever he smiles, I feel it. I know that he cares so much that he always looks beyond the mess I made, the mess I’ve become, the mess I’ve been trying to escape. He’s suffering because of my immaturity, and seeing him looking so empty like this made me realize that I have already crossed the borders of being immature, and stepped on being downright irrational. I want to stop being selfish and look at Daehyun without any feeling of guilt or remorse.

The scenes from a few weeks ago replayed in my mind, and the thought of ending the phone call for my hyung suddenly surfaced. Will anything change if I stop calling Youngjae? Will anything change if I let go? Unfortunately for me, I know something will, yet I’ve been pushing this idea at the back of my mind for months now – being the selfish person I am.

“Stop staring at me and sit here .” He said, snapping me out from my thoughts. Tsk.

“I wasn’t staring at you.” I defended, crossing my arms across my chest as I approached the couch and sat next to him. My face was starting to feel warm from embarrassment, and I was mentally wishing for it to stop spreading all over my cheeks.

“And I’m not a .”

“Sure, whatever.”

We sat there in silence, staring at the television as if the channel became the most interesting thing at that very moment. I resisted the urge to squirm every once in a while. Usually, quiet times with Daehyun gave off a comfortable feeling but this silence was weird and made me feel restless – maybe staring at him was a bad idea. Who wants to be stared at anyways? Now, I feel like a creep.

“Uhm…” I almost jumped from my seat when he cleared his throat and fidgeted – attempting to start another conversation. I let out a shaky laugh in embarrassment when I realized that he noticed me getting startled for a second.

“Sorry.”

He gave a small smile, and focused on the television once more.

“Remember what I told you last time?” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.  I stifled a laugh at his unusual actions, realizing that I wasn’t the only one restless. I know he was trying to be serious even without his terms, but seeing him awkward seems new and weird. I don’t know. Awkward Daehyun is funny and amusing to me.

“That if I need help, I can go to you?”

“I saw the laundry basket Junhong.” Daehyun continued to look straight. I don’t know if he was too engrossed with the show or if he was scared to directly look at me. “I saw the blood stains and –”

“I didn’t do it hyung.” I cut him off, knowing that it was the shirt few weeks ago.

“You know how I am with heat. I get nosebleeds and stuff, nothing serious.” His eyebrows furrowed, and I sighed. I know he wasn't convinced enough, but I really can't blame him. It was my fault why Daehyun and Youngjae are always on edge.

"I'm not lying. I already told you I'm fine."

He didn't say anything in reply and just nodded before returning his attention to the television. Again, it was quiet; but instead of feeling restless, I was starting to become frustrated with the atmosphere around the two of us. If only Youngjae was here.

I mentally grumbled. Why do I keep on wishing for something that is not going to happen?

“So, are you still calling Youngjae?”

At the mention of Youngjae’s name, my head snapped to Daehyun’s direction. The sight of him awkwardly rubbing his nape like a suitor starting his love confession made me conscious.

“Some –” I cleared my throat. “Sometimes.”  It was a great achievement from the hourly calls I gave last time. And there were no missed calls.

“That’s – That’s great.” His lips started forming an awkward smile, but I felt relieved nonetheless. I could give myself a pat on the back for finally bringing out a smile, although it’s awkward, instead of eyes that can out your soul because of the guilt building up in your system.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you happy?” I got a smile and a gentle pat on the head in return. Seeing this, I was pleased, but just until he threw the question back at me.

“Are you?”

Just as fast as I felt good, all feelings drained out in an instant, but my grin was fixed. I don’t want to always feel on edge, like I’m waiting for a lifetime judgement. I don’t want to go back to the atmosphere a few minutes ago, so I maintained my composure. “I’m fine.”

“’I’m fine’ is different from ‘I’m happy’, Junhong.”

“Hmm, don’t worry hyung.” I told him, hoping that the smile on my face is enough to assure him that everything is alright, but our eyes started to get clouded – his with worry, mine with guilt. Maybe I should have just lied. But Youngjae wouldn't want that. I promised honesty since then; to only say yes if I mean yes, no if I mean no. And I am really fine, just not to the point where I can say I am happy. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get there soon.”

But then again, Youngjae wouldn’t also want me to keep hurting Daehyun with the phone calls I’m making.

The lack of response from Daehyun brought me back to my thoughts on ending the phone calls with Youngjae. Daehyun always cared about my well–being, and all I ever gave him was trouble – like I was specially made to seep out any ounce of happiness and brightness in him.

I didn’t like the way he forced himself to look fine in front of me, because I was once like him who acts fine – it didn’t turn out pleasant. Daehyun is too good to feel the need to sacrifice his true emotions to keep me stable.

I didn’t like the way he had to choose his words to make me comfortable, because I know how frustrating it is to go over what you are going to say countless times before finally letting it slip out of your mouth – it wasn’t a nice feeling. Daehyun is too precious to experience over consciousness on something he shouldn’t be conscious about.

I didn’t like the way he gave away his freedom of expression for me, because I know how locking everything inside can drive you insane – it wasn’t worth it. Daehyun is too blessed to even feel the need to sacrifice his sanity for mine.

And I don’t like things to continue like this anymore. No matter how selfish I may be, I was not born heartless. I do not like to see another of my hyungs changing because of my irrational want of feeling cared of. This shouldn’t even be a question in the first place, because I, myself, know that I should stop. My selfishness is getting in the way. The phone call is my only connection to my own safe haven, having it ripped out of my life would risk my tight hold on my sanity. But then, didn’t Daehyun sacrifice so much more just for me? This is nothing compared to what Daehyun and Youngjae did to patch me up.

“I need to go now.” Daehyun’s voice broke my own train of thoughts, and I was flustered because I know I had to decide on ending my phone calls or not.

“So soon.” I croaked out.

“I thought you don't like me here.” He said, an eyebrow rose in confusion.

“I never said that.” I told him, and he smiled in reply. I watched him get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen as he placed the plastic bag of snacks on the counter. How come it’s still full? The only wrapper opened was the cheesecake that he claimed earlier.

“I just brought snacks. I thought you wanted to eat while watching, but I guess I ruined the mood – uhh anyway, it’s yours.” Daehyun gave an apologetic smile, looking sorry for something that he didn’t even have to be sorry about. “I’ll bring real food next time. Eat well.”

I stared at the plastic bag, and just realized that all my favorite snacks were packed inside. I bit my bottom lip, now knowing that it was actually for me, and the only food he bought for himself was the cheesecake that I opened.

“Don’t worry.” I said.

He glanced at his wristwatch and made his way to the front door, ruffling my hair as he passed by the couch. I was starting to get flustered knowing that I really should decide now, before he leaves this place.

“Hyung.” Adrenaline rushed through my body, and I found myself standing up and grabbing his wrist before he stepped one foot outside.

“Mm?” Goodness, what now? What should I say?

“I –” I paused, and he stared at me expectantly with his tired eyes. There were so many things swirling inside my brain and I was getting frustrated at myself for each second that has passed.

“Junho –” Damn it. I shut my eyes, willing my brain to shut with it as well.

 “I won't call Youngjae anymore.” And there was nothing but silence once more. As my eyes slowly opened, a hand found its way on mine. I looked up from the ground to see Daehyun’s tensed posture.

“You know we can take it slo –”

“I promise! I promise hyung. I won’t call him anymore.” I cut him off, looking directly at his eyes, hoping that he would know how serious I am with what I said. He slowly relaxed, and gently pulled me closer in an embrace as I buried my face on the crook of his neck. I felt his hand making its way to my head, before his fingers worked its magic on my hair like how he usually does whenever he calms me down. “Alright, Junhong. Alright, I trust you.”

“Be careful on your way out.” I muttered, as I straightened my back and pulled away from the hug.

“I will.” And with one last smile, he ruffled my hair and left the apartment.

The first few days after I made the promise, everything was going well. I was surprised at myself on how I managed to even go on for five straight days without hearing Youngjae’s voice. Daehyun occasionally sends me text messages to see how I’m doing, and I’d just reply a ‘Don’t worry about me’ every time he started to sound like a nagging mother.

‘You know I’m not forcing you to stop the calls right away, right?’ He’d always tell me through text, and I’d always assure him that it was my choice, that he shouldn’t be guilty on what I decided.

‘We can take it slow.’ He usually says, but I told him that I don’t want to waste time in putting everything back into place.

‘Alright, I trust you Junhong.’ He finally says after a few more days.

His promise of bringing ‘real food’ came two weeks after his visit, but just like last time, he didn’t stay for long. I remember how it looked like he brought his whole refrigerator in, muttering how I looked skinnier these days. I don’t understand him though, I’m pretty chubby recently. Does he want me to look like a pregnant ferret? I don’t look at food like how he looks at it – as if it would disappear the second it touches the plate.

“When is your semester ending?” Sixteen days have already passed since the phone call promise was made, and here I am sitting with Daehyun inside their family’s bakery. He said he was bored, but knowing him, he is still probably feeling a little bit sorry.

“Tomorrow. Why?” I asked cautiously. Knowing that he is most likely thinking of a crazy ‘escape plan’ to distract both of us from anything that can cause stress, the sides of my mouth went up to a cringe, unsure if the plans Daehyun had in mind are not crazy enough for a party pooper like me.

“That’s good news.” Daehyun beamed, eyes disappearing into thin lines. My face relaxed, void of any expression I made a few seconds a go. I automatically gave a small smile back, glad to see the glint of happiness back in Daehyun’s eyes.

“What’s good news?” Well, aside from finally being free from the chains of the university, I don’t think anything else is good with summer break.

“Wanna go somewhere?”

I slightly frowned when he didn’t answer my question, but let him off anyway and focused on what he asked instead. I began searching my brain for any answers, hoping to suggest a place that both of us would enjoy, but my mind went back to the person I was trying hard not to think about. It went back how animated Youngjae looked like whenever he tells us his favorite place.

“I really want to visit the province.” Youngjae always described the place as heaven. The vast sea, the majestic view, the colorful flowers, everything seemed like something that came out of a fantasy book. He loved the new life the province gave him, and at some point I felt like he was just exaggerating – I believed him anyway. I believed the unbelievable way he described everything to me. As long as it came from him, I believed it.

“Sounds nice, but…” Daehyun let out a soundless laugh, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t want to leave work that long, dad will cut my pay.”

“Oh, maybe some other place then.”

“Buuut!” I almost face palmed when he clasped his hands in delight, probably coming up with a ridiculous brilliant idea. “I can always talk to my dad or maybe do aegyo or maybe think of a nice deal!”

“Hyung –” Let me un-slash that, it is a ridiculous one.

“Or just talk to him nicely. But the old man never really listens to me.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Aigoo, what should I do Zelo-yah!

Daehyun grumbled, nagged, and complained so much about nonsensical things whenever we meet-up at the bakery. But as much as I hate to admit it, Daehyun’s nature of being annoying helped a lot in slowly letting go of my desire to hear Youngjae’s voice, although it doesn’t work all the time. Whenever those rare times happen, whenever this ‘Daehyun strategy’ fails, I would always go back to remembering how genuinely happy I made him when I made the promise and how Youngjae would be so proud of me for finally doing something right. I will always let myself drown in the happiness I felt when I realized I was the reason my hyungs are finally worry-free.

I didn’t know the meet-ups would actually be a big help. It kept me busy, annoyed, and surprisingly calm. Although my habit of always grabbing my phone is still there, the wants that came from merely seeing the device were not as strong like before – especially if you see a ridiculous text from Daehyun that knows how to do its job in pissing me off the whole day. But now that this is happening, I don’t know if I should be happier or more worried now that the connection that controlled my life is slowly being pushed out of the picture.

Truthfully, letting go of the phone calls was like letting go of any stability present in my system. I was proud of myself nonetheless. Thinking of how Daehyun finally looked genuinely glad for me and how proud Youngjae would be, pulled me back from the wretched reality of not hearing Youngjae’s voice again. It gave me hope that maybe, I can actually continue in making this work. I’ll be alright. If I just continue thinking about them, and drown myself in the feeling of bliss now that I finally did something right, I would eventually be completely alright.

I know I will be. Youngjae said so.

I know I will be. I promised.

I know I will be. Daehyun believed.

But I was wrong.

I miscalculated.

I forgot how much of a danger I am to myself.

‘Hey Zelo!’ Was the first text that I didn’t reply to. I remember waking up completely feeling dull, and lost, and annoyed over…nothing. I didn’t like how I stared at my ceiling for so long, pondering on my own existence with the feeling of something being completely off, and I cannot even put my finger on what is off. It irritates me, because something says that I should be doing something, but I don’t know what it actually is or if anything ever exists.

‘Zelo-yah~’ Came after a few minutes. I do not know if I should be thankful because the first thing that came to my mind when I read ‘Zelo’ was not the fact that Youngjae was included in making up the nickname, or if I should be annoyed because I am starting to believe that the awesome nickname does not fit my horrible self.

Groaning, I got up from my bed and dragged myself to the living room to watch anything that could distract me from my thoughts and hopefully make me forget about my irritation on every single thing right now. But because the world loves me so much today, the television had nothing interesting to play but Lilo & Stitch (not that bad though, since I still haven’t watched Lilo & Stitch). They said cartoons should make anyone feel better, yeah yeah but it didn’t work the way I thought it would.

I feel like a complete utter mess after the movie. Wow Junhong, Stitch is a monster and even Stitch has someone who wants him. Who would want me anyway? No one wants me. No one needs me. No one can stand me. Maybe I should try becoming a monster too. Ohana means family bla bla, what a big joke. I scowled when the scene of the curly little girl not accepting Lilo’s apology replayed in my mind. Of course, glasses girl won’t forgive you. Society never likes different.

I stayed on the couch, letting the television play in the background as I contemplate on the person I was, I am, and I will ever be. How hard must life be for Daehyun to continue forcing himself to be friends with someone like me? Maybe Youngjae left because he just can’t take me anymore.

Soon, I can’t even mutter another complain because it subsided to indescribable feelings that made me just feel so tired, like I’ve just escaped out from a few feet underground and still feel like and alone. It makes me so desperate to release all these emotions out of my system until I was out dry, and suddenly I was crying about nothing at all.  The phone buzzed with a new message, making me even more tired from the wave of emotions that hit me in the few hours I’ve stayed at home.

‘Dad said he won’t cut my pay! We can go to the province!’ Was what he said. So I had to ignore you to actually have the province vacation possible. I’m not that important to have my wishes granted that easily.

‘Shut up’ I started typing. No, that sounds too harsh. Delete.

‘Cool.’ No, I might come off as bored. Delete.

‘That’s really cool hyung.’ No, still looks like I’m uninterested. Delete. Maybe I should put a smiley.

‘That’s really cool hyung! J’ No, looks like I’m too excited. Too happy.

In the end, I didn’t reply to that too. I am too tired to even think of any reply to a simple text message. Who in the world becomes tired after staring at a single text message and not knowing how to reply to it? Congratulations Junhong, you just failed the basics of social relationships.

‘Yah! You aren’t ignoring me on purpose, are you?’ Came after a few minutes. I wonder when he will stop pretending.

‘Guess you’re busy. Text hyung if you need something.’ Came after a few more.

'Hey.'

‘Are you there?’

‘You’re still alive right?’

And it went on for days, until Daehyun’s missed texts were joined by his missed calls. Now as the counter of the missed calls that I made to Youngjae shuts off, the counter of the missed calls from Daehyun starts increasing. It wasn’t my intention to ignore his calls. I want to talk to him so badly, but I don’t know if not answering his calls or actually hearing my voice would make the situation worse.

The constant episodes of misery, groans of anger, and drowning depression that have been wrecking me since the very first unreplied text stayed. It stayed and the waves that crashed became bigger than the day before. I can't seem to go to the surface to stop myself from drowning. I kept sleeping it off, but every time I wake up I feel even more tired and unmotivated, the blankets over me feeling like they weighed a ton – preventing me from getting up. Or maybe it’s not the blanket, it’s just me not having a reason to get up, because trash should stay in their own rubbish bins.

It's either there's too much emotions or there's none. And here I am, stuck on my bed, not getting out, like it was the only thing that kept me breathing.

For days, I have been too busy to insult myself for my own worthlessness and too tired to have a rebuttal to every negative thing my mind tells me because it was all true. You're messed up. You're so useless. The phone call deal can never compensate for what you’ve done. I tried fighting the thoughts away because Youngjae used to tell me that I am not like that, but for every positive feature I can think of myself, a dozen of unpleasant facts present itself - in the form of my decisions, words, attitude, personality, in the simple form of my whole being as a human. It was like an everyday internal debate with myself, defending a subject that I already know I lost.

A part of me says that Daehyun is worried, and the rest blames me for having other people stressed as my only talent in life.

But you know what? it all.

Why worry if he'll worry for me, he won't. Whether I answer or not, the fact that I am a crazy disgusting person still remains.

No words can change that. No matter how many texts and missed calls he makes.

Wait.

Missed calls. Oh, what was my last count with my own missed calls with Youngjae? 1,259.

Wow.

This is funny.

It’s funny how desperate I am to even count the missed calls. I wonder if Daehyun would count his missed calls towards me as well, tsk. I doubt. I'm too tired to guess, and it's obvious that he won't care that much.

The phone rang, but the silence inside the room was choking me that I can’t confirm if ignoring Daehyun again was the choice that I really want, despite my mind telling me that it won’t actually change anything. It was too overwhelming that in the end, I just let it be until it stopped. I reached to my phone to continue browsing through the device, in desperate hopes of finding anything that can distract me from my thoughts of Daehyun.

Anything. Any quote. Any screen capped saying. Any saved note.

But I stumbled on to Youngjae’s name, and everything came back.

The desire to hear his voice. His laugh.

The need to listen to every word he says.

Everything came back.

The yearning.

The longing.

The feelings.

Then there was fear.

Fear of breaking a promise.

I was starting to get scared – so scared because I can’t seem to get out from the pit that I just fell into. No matter how much I claw and climb my way up, I end up sliding back down. I had to get out, and do something. Should I just talk to Youngjae? No, not an option. I was wrecking my brain for any other options because I can’t break the promise, and I realized that there is only one option in the first place: Daehyun.

Daehyun will think you’re crazy.

Who cares.

Obviously, nobody.

I need to talk to Daehyun.

You can’t even take care of yourself.

I paused, the dread starts crawling in when I realized what was happening, and the small device fell from my hold.

No.

When did I start talking to myself?

. . .

As if the alarm in my body went on, I frantically reached for the device that fell from my now shaking hands - as if it was its automatic response to emergency, like a programmed stimuli to survive. You're going crazy. The thought starts filling in and there was an unwelcomed sensation of heat crawling up my cheeks, the sight of the ground gets blurred by the forming tears as I struggle to get out from the blankets that are binding me away from freedom - away from my phone.

Disgusting. You're disgusting.

With the little strength I have, I gave one last tug and fell face first on the floor. The pain came a second later, but all I cared for right now was my phone. The call. The person. Everything else is black. Unimportant. Dead. The cries died in my throat when my hand finally touched the smooth metal device, but panic continued blossoming through my chest. I want it to stop.

Please make it stop.

Please.

Youngjae can help you.

I know.

Then what are you –

Shut up.

My fingers fumbled on my phone, my mind focused on one person: Youngjae. When Youngjae’s contact number finally shone in front of my face, I was ready to press call, my finger hovering over the only button that can give me my sanity.

Look at you.

Shut up.

Do promises even mean anything to you?

And the inner turmoil started brewing once more, stronger than before, but it all pointed to one single emotion - I am scared. I am terrified. Fear is gripping my whole being from the inside and I have no idea how to make it stop even with the phone in my hand.

The phone buzzed thrice, and Youngjae’s contact number got covered by the notification box, showing the text messages that just came.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m getting worried.’

‘Hyung is really worried right now. You know you can always call me if you need help right?’

It wasn’t that special. I hear it all the time, though I never really understood what it meant for someone to be worried about you. The texts were not that special, but it scared me more because I’m slowly losing my options on killing the voice inside my head.

Take it.

Take what?

Something inside me clicked. There was another thing that always makes it go away, and I rummaged through my bedside drawers, not wasting any second. I can’t waste any time anymore. I don’t want to go back and wake up to the white walls, white rooms, white coats.

Where the heck is it?

Papers.

Notebooks.

Pens.

Pills.

I almost cried when I saw the bottle, which was now feeling wet and slippery. I fumbled with the lid, ignoring the sticky feeling on my cheeks and how my eyes became heavier than it was a few seconds ago. But when I opened the only thing that can save me now, it was empty. It was empty.

It took a moment for the thought to settle in, and when it did, the room suddenly felt like it was frozen to negative degrees, yet the heat was crawling under my skin, spreading to my face and ears – everything was clammy. Seconds felt like hours, and something in my ears is pulsing; I feel so restricted, and the air in the room felt like it was all up in a black hole – there was nothing left for me to breathe. .

Why does everything disappear when you need them?

I opened my mouth to take more air, and pressed my forehead down to the ground, draining my brain of all thoughts and started counting like how Youngjae always told me to do.

One.

Don’t take it away.

It won’t do anything.

You’re not helping.

Two.

Give up.

Shut up. So loud.

Air.

I need air.

Three.

You need me.

Give me air.

The phone.

Four.

Good job.

What?

You just proved how useless you are.

What did I do?!

A ringtone resounded in my ears, and I can feel the vibrations from where my forehead was pressed – the familiar sound and sensations slowly and miraculously making it easier to breathe. What did I just do?

You’re calling Youngjae.

When did I?

I looked to my side in horror, seeing the phone held near my ear, already on speaker – the screen shining mockingly right at me. The fact that my shaking thumb finger was covering the area where the ‘Call’ button should be, proves that the voice wasn’t lying.  What did I just do? How is this a ‘Good job’?!

I broke the promise.

I broke the promise that I tried so hard to keep. I just broke it. I did it, maybe it was out of desperation, out of habit during panic attacks, but I was still the one who pressed the call and I broke the promise.

I shook my head as I sat up, trying to focus, ready to end the call, when the automated voicemail started – making all thoughts of stopping the connection thrown out in the window as it played Youngjae’s voice through the speakers. Everything seemed louder to my ears, echoing, reverberating, staying longer than it should be.

And the realization dawned on me, I can’t stop.

I want to see Youngjae. I want to be where he is.

The built in counter inside my head counted 1,260 automatically. 1,260 and he still hasn’t visited, not even in my dreams, not even in my nightmares.

Maybe I should just go instead.

You’re finally using your head.

I pulled the drawer open once more, but this time I know what I needed and where I hid it. Seeing it for so long like this, it looked so tempting, and the metal just screamed so loud to be held and to be used, but the door slammed open, and there stood the person I was trying to ignore all this time.

“What are you – ” I stopped when I saw his trembling posture, and when I let my eyes travel down, I saw Youngjae’s phone clasped tightly in his hand.

“Where – ”

“I trusted you.” He cuts me off and whispered, and I flinched at how bitter and painfully broken he spat every word.

“I…” Don’t look at me like that; I can’t take any more of this. “I know.”

“Junhong, do you hear yourself right now?” I can only nod and stare at the ground at how broken he sound like – his voice soft, but quivering.

“Do you know how hard this is for me too? No matter how much I want you to stop calling, I was unsure with your promise because I want us to do it slowly. But you promised me and I trusted you, Junhong!”

“I–I tri–tried to k–keep the promise.” I managed to say from the phlegm that was blocking my throat. I tried to scoot farther and pushed my back closer to the wall, hoping it would make his words less damaging. But I deserve this.

“But you didn’t!” I bit my lip to stop a whimper from escaping when he suddenly yelled, trying to ignore the growing pain from the back of my head. Oh gosh, this is what you deserve Junhong. You just can't do anything right. You're no better than trash.

I heard him sighing heavily. “It’s almost a year.”

“It’s just so hard.”  He hates you. He despises you.

“This is also hard for me Junhong! Seeing you still calling Youngjae when you visited me at the bakery makes me want to punch you so much and ask you so many questions, but I gave you some time. Do you know how hard it is to resist the urge to just trespass this apartment all this time? It was so hard Junhong, but I didn’t because I know you need time to be alone, to sort yourself out. Junhong, why can’t you understand that I am worried for you, I care for you as much as Youngjae does. It was so hard living every single day asking myself if you are still breathing, if you are alright, if you are eating, if you are still alive!”

I don’t want to listen any longer. I tried to will myself to stop him from saying anything more, but his glazed eyes, the anger, sadness, and emotions in them puts me back to my place. The veins that showed on his forehead, the wetness of his cheeks, the despair that doesn’t and shouldn’t belong in his eyes – there’s so many things I can do for him, but I broke his smile. Worse is, I can’t bring myself to regret what I did, because it was always Youngjae over anything, anyone, even myself.  I deserved this. I painted everything there, who was I to stop the colors from dripping?

“It was so hard to stay quiet and let you dial a number of a person that won’t even answer your calls. It pained me so much to watch you talk to a ing recorded voice message, pressing the pause and play, and acting like it was Youngjae’s voice. I had to stop myself from throwing your damn phone even if it’s making you crazy, because I know how much everything has affected you and how much it means to you. But it’s almost a year!”

“Please stop.” Knowing what he is going to say next, I had to just make him stop. I know this already, and I don’t have to hear it. I know how pathetic I am, just stop. “I don’t want to hear it. Please.”

“No one’s going to answer the call no matter how many times you dial that number, Youngjae is dead.”

“No, please.” Pressing my hands to my ears, I tried blocking every single word away because all the images are coming back. Youngjae’s smile when he sees me coming out from school, his last words, last laugh, last smile, last touch.

“I want you back. I can’t lose you too. I always told you that I am here if you need help –”

“I don’t need help!” Youngjae fixed me already.

“Why can’t you accept it –”

I feel him moving closer, but all I can see and register right now is that someone is restricting my breathing, someone is cracking my head open, someone is stabbing knives to my lungs. I had to stay away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Tell me Junhong. Look at me!” Something grabbed my shoulders harshly, and no matter how hard I wrenched from his grip, it won’t go away. No. Go away. “Tell me that you don’t need me.”

“Stop it! Go away!”

“CHOI JUNHONG!”

Daehyun?

“I said look at me! Tell me you don’t need me.” A pair of warm, sweaty hands forced my head to look straight at those eyes, and blood rushed to my ears because I hated seeing what I did to him. I can’t risk looking at the mirror of despair, because it’s pulling me in. He needs no more of Junhong. He needs to stay away from me.

But even so, I looked at him so he would leave.

“I…” There is something wrong. I know.

“I don’t need help.” But I can’t ask more from you.

“I don’t need you.” I can’t handle breaking you too, I can’t fix you.

I’m still here.

Shut up.

His last seconds inside the room were a blur. I didn’t get to register that look of hurt he gave and how heavy his every step was, because when the door softly clicked shut, the film of regrets started rolling. That scene when I first met Youngjae at Daehyun’s bakery to him finding out about my self-harm to our first hug to his first hospital visit – all playing like a clear movie flashback and I was watching like a complete fool.

I always thought my happiness runs out faster than normal people. And it’s funny because I was finally right.

I was damn right, because soon I was watching everything from the other side of a steamy mirror, all mushing into a blurry mix of dark clouds, getting darker and darker from the sides as the pounding inside my head gets harder and harder.

The thought of doing something to stop it from vanishing passed my mind, but it didn’t stay.

Hopeless.

I'm hopeless.

If I couldn't do a task as simple as stopping Daehyun from leaving, how do I even do something as hard as stopping these scenes from fading.

So, I let it fade into black.

Youngjae’s phone.

That was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. It lay across the room, probably from where Daehyun threw it. I pushed myself from the ground to shift my position, but the strain in my neck stops me from moving. I tried once more, this time slowly turning on my side, and finally laying on my back.

My phone.

That was the first thing I looked for, and it looks like life finally smiled down on me when I found it right away under my hip. I brought it up to my face, and stared at it once more.

To think something like this would give me the best and worst memories in life.

Alone. You’re alone.

I know.

They left you.

I know.

The flashback played once more in my mind muting the voice away, making me sigh and chuckle at the sudden idea that presented in front of me. Daehyun was right, I was crazy, playing and pausing a voice message and talking to it like it was Youngjae.

But maybe the thing that made me crazy can bring back my rationality.

One more try.

This time, the way it should be.

“Mm.”

It played. I can almost cry again.

“Junhong, I was working. Sorry. I'm pretty sure you're okay now. You're not going to make me worry again, right? I miss you.”

There’s his awkward laugh.

‘I’m working’, my . You always say that because you don’t want to feel like a sick person. Who works on a ing chemotherapy?

“Ah Junhongie.”

And then there’s his sigh.

“Don't worry about me. I'm doing great! I hope you are too. Your Daehyun hyung is there to replace my mouth and the radio you broke last Christmas. It's nice to hear that you're enjoying the summer. Daehyun told me that you just got an A+ in Biology. Ah look! Now you're getting some of my smart genes and a little of your Daehyun hyung's! Haha! I hope to see you soon Junhong-ah.”

And the crack in his precious voice.

“And if there’s no time left, don’t even dare to follow me if I leave too soon. Daehyun is still there to replace my mouth and my nagging. I know he can’t replace my brains though. He might forget to say the things I tell you every day, so you have to remember. Even if he doesn’t forget, you still have to remember. You’re important. You’re precious. You’re worth more than you can imagine. You matter to us. I can’t believe I’m leaving you a voice message, this is too cheesy. But you know what’s cheesier? Don’t cringe.”

And then there’s his hiccup.

“I love you. See you soon.”

And his promise.

When we were younger, they taught us the art of giving.

They said it was better to give than to receive.

But they forgot to teach the art of receiving,

The art of caring if it’s a little too much.

Because a little too much can be so much.

So I learned once more,

How many times have I cried like a kid?

I could count it with my fingers. All of it was because of Youngjae. I was too focused on Youngjae. I was too focused on my missed calls to him that I became blind and deaf to the missed calls Daehyun gave me – Missed calls of his offers of help, worry, and compassion.

I was too focused on my life with Youngjae, too focused to stop the ruins from falling, too focused on not destroying my own life for him, too focused to learn how to breathe without crying.

I’m still here.

And this? When everything seems silent, it just had to ruin what I started. I stared at the ceiling, remembering the encounter with Daehyun. But that’s when I realize, and remembered the last words Daehyun left before he walked out the door.

“I’m still here.”

My hands went back to my phone, ignoring the new set of tears forming to blur my eyes.

But now, it wasn't about Youngjae anymore.

Accepted the help I needed

And reached out to others,

Without forgetting about myself.

Youngjae was born to witness all my firsts, I was born to witness all of his lasts. We’re at the ends of each other’s lives.

Maybe Daehyun was born to wait, to make me realize that life isn’t just precious at its ends.

“Hyung.” Help.

“I’m coming.”

A/N: SO basically, the four stanzas represent the four important things in the whole story: Youngjae & Junhong, Daehyun & Junhong, the phone call promise, and Junhong’s call for help. This turned out longer than I planned to. And I'm really scared posting this because it's my first time writing a fanfic with scenes like these. I hope it didn't bore you and I hope the message was shared. It's not bad to ask for help. You can talk to someone you trust when it gets too much, and I know that it might be embarassing most of the time to talk about your problems to someone and there will be thoughts that are going to hold you back, but it will help. God bless!  

Char-unnie: I wanted to write my letter here since this is my gift to you, but I want it to be between us sooo...*winks* Love you!