I gaze at the Earth, once again covered in thick snow, feeling completely empty and broken. The thick texture of it all bearing a painful reminder of my lover, who I had loved so dearly, and lost all too quickly—for a reason I don’t know of. He’s completely gone, leaving me here, clueless, lonely, dull.

I take a few steps, the snow crunching beneath my feet, a crisp sound, cutting through the silence and the stillness of the air. As if to show just how alone I am, as if to mock me. My hand raises up to brush the necklace Minho had left me, loving the relief it gave me when I felt and embraced that familiar cold feel, the only proof that Minho still cared for me, loved me, left a part of him with me—wherever he is.

And I realize, here I am again. Standing here and appreciating the presence of my loneliness, reminding myself to avoid doing that because it won’t make me feel better, even if I do it negatively. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes as I empty my mind of anything, the cold, winter air hurting my nose ever so slightly, before I let it all out through my mouth, a cloud of dust brushing out of my lips.

If I wanted to get out of here quick, I should get started with my job. With that thought in mind, I’m determined to finish my work quick and return to slumber, and just as I take a step to start, I hear that awfully familiar, much too loud of a voice, calling from behind me.

For a moment, my mind scrambles to remember who owned that voice, and when I remember, I let out a sigh of annoyance, my eyes closing just for a moment in silent agony. Why now? Turning my back to face him, trying to remember his name as I study his appearance while he runs toward me, resisting the urge to run away.

“Hey!” he calls out again, stopping just a few inches from me, a wide grin upon his lips, reaching his eyes that seemed to smile, too, turning into two moon-shaped slits. I step back, not liking how he’s so close, I feel his warm aura reaching toward me.

“How are you doing?” he asks, the grin still plastered on those lips, showing me a bright set of perfect teeth.

Great, until you came around. “Fine.” But my voice is raw, crispy, and way too obvious that I’m lying. And even though I know he knows I’m lying, I don’t take it back, eager to let him feel that I dislike him and would prefer him to not be around.

He nods, his grin never fading despite how it was obvious he sensed the acid in my tone. I take the moment of silence to study him once more, my expression hard, eyes guarded but cold all the while. As he just stands there, grinning like an idiot, his hair completely black, messy and short, clothes exactly like mine, but he has a bigger build than I do. Though not as muscle-y as Jonghyun, but not as frail-looking as I.

After a long moment of silence, he gives a small chuckle and extends a hand toward me, causing me to flinch back, still fearing his touch. But he ignores it and instead says, “Since last time didn’t turn out very well, I’ll introduce myself again. You know—start over. So, the name’s Onew.” I remember the first time I had met him, just last year, while I was curled up on the ground, crying and screaming, he had called out a loud, “Hey,” and when he introduced himself to me as the new Winter boy, Minho’s replacement, I had staggered backwards and ran away.

I just stare at him incredulously, not really expecting him to expect me to just take his hand, skin to skin, practically the best way for me to feel how warm and cuddly he is, which I definitely don’t want to feel, absolutely refuse to. I don’t want anything the opposite of Minho; in fact, I won’t even want anything that’s similar to him. I want Minho, the one with the distant eyes, the deep voice, pale, icy skin, soft smile...

“Taemin,” I mumble, glancing at his hand then back to his eyes, giving him a look that I hoped gave him the message. Thankfully, he got the hint and awkwardly pulled his hand back to his side, where it belonged.

“It’s good to see you again, Taemin!” He grins again, eyes brightening, and it’s all I can do not to grimace, hating how my name rolled off his tongue.

I don’t say anything, preferring to say silent than to speak the truth or lie, having realized that I had lost all my motivation to even do the latter. So I just give a stiff nod and turn around, pressing my lips together, hoping he understood my cold gesture and just leave me alone.

But I hear him follow me, happily chatting about how wonderful the Earth is, wonderful to meet me and to meet Kibum, bringing up conversations I had with Minho and making painful memories sinking into my brain, all at the same time, all too quickly, that my eyes sting with tears. But I choke them back, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger, to appear weak.

I start walking, melting the snow behind me, waking the hibernating animals, bringing back springtime, color, beauty, despite myself, the ugliness that seemed to bloom inside of me.

I crouch down on the grass somewhere and plant a small, delicate flower, my jaw clenching as Onew crouches down next to me, our shoulders nearly touching but I move away from him.

He grins at me as he says, “How pretty,” and I watch as he brings the flower in between his fingers, but not plucking it off. Horrified and angry when it turns blue and nearly withers because of the thin of ice that it’s coated in that came with his touch. He looks up at me, eyes apologetic, but I just sigh and shake my head, standing up and walking elsewhere.

Just as a thought pops in my head, something I hadn’t realized before. Reluctantly, I turn back to him, catching him staring at me with sad eyes, but choosing to ignore that as I ask, with my weak voice, “How did you find me?”

His brow furrows. “What?” He gets to his feet, walking toward me.

“How did you find me... here?” I repeat, looking at him, studying him once more.

“I just—did,” he says, his eyebrows meeting for a moment as he thinks.

“But—how can that be? I thought we could only find each other if we both wanted to, and I didn’t want to find you,” I blurt out, my brain working too slowly for me to stop myself from saying it, and watching with slight guilt as his eyes darken with sadness and hurt. I frown at myself, just realizing that I’ve become so cold-hearted, close-minded, mean. And hating all the negative feeling inside of me now that I realize it’s there.

And just as I’m about to apologize for my words, he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he raises a hand to stop me. “It’s fine, I understand.”

I blink, surprised. “You do?” Wondering if he really does understand, the thought of him, Minho’s replacement, becoming my best friend popping into my head, but I shake it away, not liking the idea of it at all.

“Yeah. This is about Minho, isn’t it? Kibum reacted the same way, but he welcomed me at some point—,” he says, looking distantly at nothing, “—but you, you’re different. I can tell in your eyes that you’ll never accept me, and I understand that.” He looks at me pointedly, a lot of thought in his eyes.

My heart twitches at the mention of Minho’s name, my stomach doing flips and my whole system becoming warm—but in a good way, the Minho way.

“I don’t blame you if you hate me, really,” he continues, smiling in a way that was more genuine now. His aura so warm and comforting, I almost run into his arms, but I choose to let my fingers brush against my necklace again, finding it more comforting.

I just nod again, suddenly feeling guilty and wondering what in the world was wrong with me, and realizing that I had been controlled by the depression and anger and emptiness, but now that I rid myself of all those—or at least, tried to—I’m fine now, although still sad, but at least there’s no more hate.

“I’m still sorry. That was rude of me,” I mumble, not exactly finding my voice to speak to him. I continue to urge the hate that remained away.

He shrugs and re-presents his grin, seeming to like how I no longer gave him a cold tone. “It’s really fine. And speaking of Minho, I actually quite know a few things about him.”

I blink, waiting for him to continue, seeming calm but I’m flipping out on the inside.

“He was never meant to be here in the first place.” There it is again, that statement, that riddle, so mind boggling and frustrating, my brain scrambling to find answers but only seeming to confuse me more if anything.

“What do you mean?” I ask, voice coming out as a whisper. But I don’t care anymore.

“Well,” he says slowly, looking away and fidgeting with his sleeve. “He’s—um—how do I say this?” He bites his lip for a moment, contemplating as I wait as patiently as I can, but my patience is running out.

And just as he’s about to speak again, he grunts instead, face turning in pain as he falls onto the grass. I watch in confusion and surprise, before kneeling on his side and wondering if I should touch him or not, but ending up being a coward and not touching him at all, just gazing at him worriedly as if it could help.

“Please, not yet. You have to stay, just tell me where he is, please,” I beg, chanting as I hover above him, my heart racing as his eyes shut tightly, and suddenly, his pain is all gone. But he doesn’t wake up, he falls asleep, his expression peaceful, before disappearing completely.

I give up. I can’t go on any longer.

I sit cross-legged on the clouds, playing with my sleeve as I wait for the voice to talk to me, my mind struggling to find answers, my entire existence yearning to be in Minho’s embrace, missing him so badly that just the first thought of him makes me cry.

I’m done. I won’t go on; I refuse to. I hate this dull feeling, emptiness, pain. I hate all of it, hate that he’s not here, next to me, hate that I’ll never see him again. And I’m thinking of how to end this when the voice rings, “I am disappointed in you, Taemin.”

I raise my head, sniffling, letting the tears slip one by one. “I am, too,” I mumble, before my head hangs again, my sobs escaping freely.

“You should not do this any longer,” it says, though I’m not sure if it meant I shouldn’t continue to yearn and be depressed, or shouldn’t continue existing. And as if hearing my thoughts, it gets more specific, saying, “Both.”

I look up again, blinking away the tears. “What? How can I do that?”

“You will see. I will truly miss you, Taemin. You have been a nice friend. Although, I am not sure if you will remember me.” A small laugh follows, but I don’t understand. And just as my too slow of a brain progresses what it just said, I’m gone again, feeling myself getting disconnected from this place—above the clouds—and from the Earth, feeling something else—something different—something I’ve never been to before approaching my energy, or the other way around.

I start to feel unfamiliarity, confusion, fear and hear too much noise, smell sweet scents.

For a moment, I’m disconnected to everything, feeling empty, running around in a dark void of nothingness. Running as fast as my legs can go, but always ending up in the same place: nowhere. Until I finally give up, falling onto the ground—if there was one—and curling into a trembling ball. Just about to scream when I realize I’ve lost my voice, no sound coming out, but I don’t stop.

I stay like that for a long moment, curled up, screaming silently, until I hear my voice, faint at first, but gets very loud, so loud that it surprises me. But I only hear it for a moment, just as I feel myself finding a connection, getting pulled toward an unknown dimension, somewhere I’m not familiar with, before I’m taken out completely, the black void spitting me out.

Leaving me gasping as my eyes flutter open, realizing I’m on Earth, but as a human.