ninety-six hours after park jinyoung fell

The day he found out was the the day he cried hardest. The blow of the news came to him like a bullet; it pierced his chest and shot him straight in the heart. The feeling was unbelievably painful. It was like that for the rest of them, especially for the girl crying beside him at the moment. Losing him hurt; it was like a part of him had died along with his dear, old friend. It hurt like actual hell.

Behind him, someone sighs and the once empty space on his right is now occupied by a figure as tall as him. His left side is already taken, and his arm is around her shoulder's. He looks to his right and hesitates to sling his other arm around his shoulder.

But then he looks back, and Taehyun gives him this kind of annoyed look. "I look like , don't I?" He didn't see him during the tribute, all three of them made speeches. The girl by his side cried halfway through her speech, he was choking by the time he reached the end and even icy Soojung's voice cracked in between words. 

Taehyun was supposed to give his own speech, but he was a no-show. They should've expected it, Taehyun hated speeches. He hated tuxes too, but he was wearing one right now and it suited him. Taehyun sees the look he's giving him, and mutters it's for Jinyoung. He almost snickers, but the sorrow in the pit of his stomach overwhelms anything synonymous to amusing or joy. 

Youngji still has her face buried by his tux. But she says something to both of them, something inaudible to him but audible to Taehyun because he smiles at her, it's a painful smile with little to no sincere happiness buried in the corners. Today was not a day for that.

Youngji regains her composure just as the priest up front is finished with the prayer. The nuns of the orphanage encircle the casket, and Soojung looks back at them beckoning the three with her eyes. They move forward, Youngji hands the white roses to the two boys. The other one for her. 

They stand side by side each other, shoulders touching and breaths uneven. His left side is wet with her tears. He tells himself not to cry; he's been telling himself that ever since he took one last, good look a