As you're about to see, all of my characters are ed up.

3,5 words.

♦

—Tell me how you met Jongin.

Zitao still wouldn’t meet Kyungsoo’s eyes, a guy with such a powerful presence was now looking really insecure. Kyungsoo wondered if Jongin was like that as well.

—Is that really what you want to ask me?

He tried testing Zitao.

—You’re right… —Zitao raised his stare, now looking at Kyungsoo directly, piercing stare— I just… how was my brother around you? Carefree, funny? Like he was with us in the past? Or was he serious, sad all the time? —He closed his eyes shut for 3 seconds while breathing profusely— Was he happy around you? That’s all I want to know.

—Does it matter? —Kyungsoo asks.

—I just want to know how he was with you.

—Are you sure you want to know that? It may be not what you want to hear…

That made the tall guy doubt for a second, but he recovered quickly.

—I don’t care —He finally said—, so please, tell me.

Kyungsoo got a bit nervous, he was doing something really wrong, but it was too late now to back away.

—I will, but first, you tell me how you found my phone number.

He had to gain time, to make a credible story in his mind, he just couldn’t tell anything to this guy about his own dead brother.

—Okay —Zitao didn’t look too happy, but he complied anyway—. I had to beg to the concierge, I already knew you lived there because I followed Jongin once and I knew your last name because I kind of spied Jongin’s cellphone…

—You really care about your brother, don’t you? —He asked, with no bad intentions.

—Mr. Do, why wouldn’t I care about my own ing brother, huh? —The tall young guy was upset, not raising his voice but his tone was clearly a warning— Just because we’re not blood related doesn’t mean I didn’t care for him.

—I wasn’t… I didn’t mean it like that —The smallest was taken aback—. I’m sorry if I sounded rude.

When Zitao was about to reply, they noticed someone coming to them with hurried steps. It was the girl from before, looking as angry as a few minutes ago, lips forming a tight line and hands made fists besides her body.

As she approached them, they both turned to face her completely.

—Zitao, I don’t want him near us —She said, looking only at the other boy, hands on her hips.

Kyungsoo stayed quiet looking at her, because he doesn’t have a filter in his mouth, so he might say something he might not want to say. He worried his bottom lip.

—Come on, Yura, he’s going in a few seconds. I’ll be right back, okay? —Zitao spoke, putting a hand on her shoulder softly— Try to calm mom down.

She didn’t say anything, but just stared at Zitao for a moment, and then at Kyungsoo with a different vibe, and she was gone.

—We can’t talk here. I’ll call you so we can meet —Zitao said after Yura left—, you can call me Zitao.

—Fine, I’m sorry for everything.

Tao didn’t answer back, just walked away to where his family was. This time, Kyungsoo decided to walk to his apartment, so that he could take the time to think about everything that just happened.

What were Zitao’s intentions? Why would he want to know the man who supposedly ruined his brother’s life?

He isn’t one to question, though, because he was doing something strange, too, right now. There was no way he could create a story about a boy he knows nothing about, and less, try to pretend to be a despicable man he is not… this “person” that probably killed Jongin in a way.

But, it’d been a while since he had felt like that. Nervous and really excited.

Walking to his home didn’t feel like such a long way to him, when his thoughts were so occupied on something. As he was getting closer to his apartment, he realized he wasn’t going to make it through a lonely Sunday… inviting Chanyeol and his girlfriend over wouldn’t be a bad idea to clear his mind with their crazy jokes.

♦

“Jongin would meet me at nights, he’d go to my house and chat about his day in college: lots of friends, girls staring at him everywhere he goes, decent grades… but he wanted some excitement, so he’d buy drugs and share them with me. Wait, I’d buy drugs and share them with him.

No, I’m not even sure he consumed drugs and I don’t want to get in troubles.

, wait, what did this Jongin study? Was he smart? Artistic? Or was he more into romantics stuff?

… Why did I ruin his life?

Maybe he dropped out of college because of me.

No one seemed to know how I looked, so I guess we had this secret, toxic relationship.

It has to be drugs, right?

, I can’t tell I do drugs!”

It’s now Tuesday morning in the company, Kyungsoo in his little office, seated on a chair with his legs up his desk, next to his closed laptop, bored as . Thinking hard about something he shouldn’t be even thinking of, while eating chips loudly with the bag on his lap, and he was glad he had his own office.

Right, it was his own company.

It consisted of a space of three offices and a reception, the rest was a huge warehouse with some machines, trucks, and construction materials, and now Kris was including stuff like tiles. It wasn’t the most successful company ever, but it was something, it produced him enough money to get to the month and a bit more, since Kyungsoo’s always been a simple man with no luxurious tastes and no family at all.

It’s Tuesday and Zitao hasn’t called him yet. Maybe he doesn’t want to see him again, maybe he decided to leave things behind and never contact him again. Heck, he should just do that.

He sighs, and leans back on the chair hard, until it creaks, and he regains his posture.

—Soo —Someone opens his door suddenly—, some Russian guys are coming tomorrow to set a deal —It was Kris, his business partner, tall and attractive 30 year old man—. You better be here early tomorrow, so today you can take the rest of the day off if you want.

Kyungsoo’s eyes lit up at that, quickly putting his legs down of the desk.

—Thanks man —He said, throwing the bag of chips to the trash can next to his desk. He just wanted to go home and check his calls, maybe Zitao had called.

Damn, he should have just given him his cell phone number.

—Don’t you wanna know about the deal? —Kris asked still from the door, a bit suspicious.

Kyungsoo looked at the blonde man, from the chair.

—Nope.

—Really? —The other asked again.

—Yep —Kris shook his head and got out of the other’s office, closing the door with a little more force than he should.

Kyungsoo grabbed his jacket on top of the table pressed against the wall with books on it, and left as well.

On the way, he caught up with Kris closing the door to his own office, which was next to his. He bit his lip while looking at the other’s door, holding the jacket on his arm.

—I can see you through the door! —He heard Kris yelled, since the door was made of this damn glass you had no privacy at all since you can see the shape of the things both inside and outside.

The black haired opened it, seeing Kris going to sit on his chair. He was grabbing his glasses on the desk, while Kyungsoo stayed where he was, holding the door’s knob with one hand, half body still outside the office.

—I trust you, okay? It’s not that I don’t care —He finally said, and before Kris put his glasses on, sitting, he looked at the smaller for a few seconds. That’s when Kyungsoo noticed how haggard his blonde friend actually looked, all eye bags and red eyes, prominent cheek bones.

—Sometimes I can’t tell the difference —He was back at putting his glasses on, opening his laptop and concentrating on it.

Kyungsoo felt bad, but what could he do? Kris had a tendency to worry too much. Giving his friend one last look, he closed the door and headed home with a heavy heart.

♦

The whole day went by with Kyungsoo cooking to distract himself, and yeah, probably baking a cake on his day off and waiting for a call that didn’t seem to be getting was a bit gay, even for him, but at least no one was there to judge him.

In the little square that was his kitchen, a combination of silver and black, he tiptoed and took a glass from the cabinets glued to the wall, then grabbed a half empty bottle of wine and poured some of it on the glass while he waited for the cake in the oven, almost done.

What he didn’t expect, though, was a knocking at his door.

Wearing a pair of white shorts and a blue, furry, sweater were obviously not suited for visits… including the apron he was currently using. Looking weirdly at the door, glass in hand, he waited still for a few seconds.

They knocked again.

Sighing tiredly, he left his glass on the table and took off his apron.

They kept knocking.

—Coming! —He yelled, upset.

What he expected even less, was to open the door and find Zitao standing there, sheepishly smile and guilty eyes. He looked handsome, even if he was only wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt, a backpack on his back and earrings adorning both of his ears. He looked more youthful like that.

—Oh.

—Hey —Zitao said—, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting… —He scratched the back of his head.

—No, no… come in —Kyungsoo moved aside, and felt a little angry at the fact that this guy was a lot taller, broader and probably younger than him—. You can put your backpack wherever you want.

—Thanks —He answered, and left it on the coach just in front of the door.

—I really wasn’t expecting anybody, as you see —He gestured his own body—, I kind of thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.

Zitao laughed softly and shook his head.

—That’s all I had been thinking these days —And before Kyungsoo could misinterpret that, he added—, I can’t stop thinking about Jongin.

—It’s okay, the same happens to me.

They stayed quiet for a few moments, awkwardly standing in front of each other, having to look one up and the other down due to their different heights. In the background the sound of T.V, laughs and singing from a Disney movie. No one was talking. He cleared his throat loudly.

Then, he remembered something.

—, the cake.

With hurried steps, he went to the oven, Zitao following him slowly from behind.

He grabbed a pair of gloves and opened the oven, taking the cake out and putting it on the table, in the middle of the small kitchen.

—Is that you wife’s making? —The tallest asked, looking at the pretty and round chocolate cake.

—As embarrassing as it is to admit it, no, I baked it.

—What about your wife? —He kept pressing the matter, turning around, walking through the apartment in just a few steps.

—I don’t have one —He grabbed a knife from the counter and then walked again to the table—, do you want some? It’s a bit overcooked, though.

—I know you do. Jongin told me some days ago —Tao said softly from the living room, but he was able to hear him clearly.

Kyungsoo stopped cutting the cake.

—I… we are taking a break—He cleared his throat—, we’re having problems.

—Did she find out? —He asked— About you and my little brother, I mean.

—No… —Kyungsoo was getting nervous now— we had been arguing a lot, and we decided to give this relationship a break —The black haired was playing now with the knife, as he waited for an answer.

—Why weren’t you affected by Jongin’s death? —Zitao asked instead, going to where Kyungsoo was standing with the knife and the cake in front. He stood across him, on the other side of the table, and put a hand over the sharp side of the knife Kyungsoo was holding on the table— Was he only some random kid you could ? —He asked and the stare he was directing towards him was unreadable, small, deep black orbs full of different emotions. Pressing on the knife harder, like he wanted to take it from Kyungsoo, he backed away a little bit before he began to bleed— Because you meant everything to him.

—Of course not! —Kyngsoo was quick to defend back, never understanding Zitao’s moods change— That’s not true, he--

—You were his hero, you kept him in one piece, he’d say… —Zitao kept talking, never evading his stare— he had been having lots of crazy stuff going on, Jongin had always been a troubled kid… depression, suicide attempts, his father’s abandon, homouality, I guess you know about that… our mother wanted to take him to a psychiatric, to medicate him, because he wasn’t okay. He truly, truly, wasn’t okay.

He would cry all night, he wouldn’t eat, and he would only yell on days. He didn’t even dance anymore. We never knew what happened, but we guessed it was his father being a , he must had said something that made him quit dancing, because there was nothing Jongin loved more in this world than dancing, and he was amazing at it. But he’d never talk to us, at all.

One day, he overheard our mom talking to my sister over the phone about taking him to a psychiatric and he went mad about it. The yelling woke me up upstairs, and he sounded mad, sad and disappointed, you know? For him, it was betrayal. He thought we would leave him, just like his father did, so he left us first.

He was 17 at the time, and he ran away from home. A kid, ill, broken hearted and alone in the streets… what was good for him outside? We were worried sick, so my sister and I went looking for him the next day but we didn’t find him that day, until three days later, laying in the streets with a dog, looking dirty.

We tried taking him home, really, we thought it was just a phase and maybe one of those days he would go home by himself. But he didn’t. We don’t know how he survived, but thankfully he did. I followed him a couple of times, but lost him a lot others.

He was smoking now, dressing like a hippie and living like one with some strange people. I tried talking to him several times but he always turned me down, with a sad smile, as if he wasn’t his decision to make. I tried, God knows I did, to help him.

That “phase” lasted one whole year, and he was 18 when we stopped seeing him on the streets. I was scared he might have died.

But, two months after his 18^th birthday, he came home.

“I’m fine, so stop looking for me” He told me, finally appearing to be healthy. I was relieved, even if he had left after he said those words, even if he didn’t let our mom hug him.

And I complied, I stopped looking for him.

I lived my life, graduated from university and after a while, when he turned 20, he came to me again… it was a ing nightmare from then on.

—I… —Kyungsoo was speechless, eyes wide open and mouth agape.

—And  for your looks, it’s obvious you don’t know anything about it. How was it possible for him to love a person like you? I will never understand it. I bet you left him, like he was nothing to you, because you have a ing wife —He slammed his hands on the table, making the stuff over it shake with a sound—. He had that accident because of you.

—No, no! I didn’t know about it because… —He took a pause, gulping, before continuing— our relationship wasn’t based in the past. We never talked about our lives, Zitao ssi, we just enjoyed spending time together. As you said, I kept him in one piece, and he’d do the same for me.

I had been having troubles with my wife, because she wants children and I’m not economically prepared for it, we fought a lot and I wasn’t happy anymore, I didn’t even want to come home to her. But when I met Jongin, everything changed, and I felt like I had a reason to live even though he couldn’t be my life. I had a reputation, a job, a wife—Kyungsoo realized he was getting better at this, as he spoke—. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know I had a wife, that was something I did let him know about, because I couldn’t be with him all the time. Little by little we started hanging out more, liking each other more, caring for each other more.

It got to a point that I told him I would leave my wife, but he didn’t agree. He would say he wasn’t worth it, he didn’t deserve it, that it was better like that because he wouldn’t be able to stand another abandon… he never explained to me about it like you just did, so it was hard for me to understand it. He needed love and stability, but I couldn’t give him both.

The time we spent together was amazing; we got to be other people apart from our own terrible lives. We enjoyed it, he was happy… we were happy. I don’t know how the accident happened, but it wasn’t my fault… okay? I deeply cared for him.

—I’m… I’m glad he was happy even for a while.

—Don’t cry, yes? —He got close to him.

—Where is the bathroom? —Asked Zitao, eyes filled with unshed tears.

—Come on, wash your face and I’ll get you something to drink —Smiling, Kyungsoo pointed to a room located in the back, besides the living room, to the left of the front door.

Zitao nodded, wiping his tears with the back of his hands, and showed a little, affectionate, quivering smile and headed to the bathroom.

When he was gone, the oldest went to grab another glass to pour some wine to Zitao as well, it was pretty obvious he needed it. And he did, too, because he was feeling guilty about what he just did… lying easily, about a boy he never met. He was surprised at himself, how everything came out with such a facility from his mouth and he just could imagine everything, like it was fresh and real in his brain; memories of his experience and livings with a teenager boy with lots of issues. A dancer, a rebel, a romanticist, a kid full of hopes.

He seriously would have loved to meet him, get to know him, and probably avoid his death.

As he kept thinking about it, he had already served both, Zitao’s and his glasses of wine. He looked sadly, with a pout, at the now cold, half cut, a bit overcooked, chocolate cake on his table and sighed disappointedly.

—I can’t do this! —He heard the slamming of a door, strong and with rage, startling him on the spot— I can’t… oh god —It was Tao’s voice, helpless and desperate.

The smallest rapidly went to where the other was standing, taking his backpack situated on the sofa with trembling hands. As Tao started to open its zipper as quickly as he could, Kyungsoo stared at him with weird eyes.

—What’s going on? —He asked, surprised.

He didn’t receive a response until the younger pulled out a Nikkon camera from the backpack, and pushed it to Kyungsoo’s unprepared hands.

—I was seriously hoping it wasn’t you —And he walked away, as fast as he came, backpack hanging on his shoulder and walking with angry steps. Throwing the front door furiously and leaving behind a dumbstruck Kyungsoo, camera in small hands.

He turned it on after the other was gone, scrolled through the camera’s pictures; all of the first ones were pictures of Jongin smiling, cheerful and beautiful… until he reached one, obscene and explicit: Jongin on a bed, hands tied in the back with a tight knot made of clothe, a white, veiny hand grabbing forceful his brownish hair, in the air with legs spread wide.

Next pictures were like that, but the ones following had Kyungsoo swallow harshly, and feeling something warm in his stomach, as he looked at Jongin’s full lips stretched on a hard , eyes closed and hair all messy, locks sticking to his sweaty forehead; he was shirtless, perky and dark s showing, and the position implied that he was kneeled on a floor.

But as Kyungsoo looked more closely at the picture, he realized with a gasp, that the scenery in the picture was his own bathroom floor.

♦

So, what do you think? It will probably have around 2 more chapters.