He thought it odd that he was first to die. The character, now bleeding out and alone on the cold forest's floor, seemed like the main character. They had followed his thoughts and actions since the beginning of the movie. It didn't make sense that he didn't survive longer. 

Now the flow of the story feels wrong. Messed up, somehow. The dead character faded from the narrative as smoothly as water coursing through the rivers that the rest of the survivors are crossing. 

It's a weird movie and the only reason he's sitting through it and actually paid attention was because Seungcheol was on a date with Doyoon and they were sitting a couple seats to his left. He didn't think they knew he was there, since they had come in late, but if he stands to leave, they'd surely notice. And he didn't want that. They were the last two people he wanted to see at the moment. 

Jihoon loves Seungcheol. He knew this ever since the older boy believed in him, when no one else would. He had stood up for Jihoon and his dreams. Seungcheol was Jihoon's hero.

Unfortunately, this occurred during the precarious time of puberty. And one day he'd just woken up to soiled boxers after a hazy dream filled with Seungcheol's voice, which he'd never even heard sound that way, and his hands doing things that made him cry out. 

He'd made things awkward, of course. He'd attempted to avoid Seunghcheol at all moments possible. There was no escape in his dreams though. And after a couple days, there wasn't any in the real world either. 

"I don't know what's wrong," He'd clutched Jihoon's wrist, stopping him from turning away, "but If you don't tell me, then I can't say sorry." He had kept his head down, his eyes shielded from view. Jihoon couldn't say If he had just imagined the tremor in his voice.

There had been a couple beats of silence that Jihoon didn't know how to fill. So all he did was stare at his captured wrist and Seungcheol's almost painful tightening grip on it.

Seungcheol looked up, guessing that Jihoon wasn't going to say anything and continued; "And I'm not about to let anything get in the way of our friendship, not me and not even you." 

It felt as if Seungcheol had his grip on Jihoon's heart instead of his wrist, at that moment.

Now, years later, the bruise had faded from his skin but Seungcheol's hands still have a hold of his heart. 

Jihoon had never dated anyone-- there was simply no vacancy left within his heart. It had been filled upto bursting with all things Seungcheol. The things he did to make Jihoon smile, the things he did that Jihoon hated, his moments of sadness and vulnerability... every little thing he knew of Seungcheol, he'd stole away inside himself, like a thief hoarding precious jewels.

Seungcheol wasn't exactly the same way...he's had one night stands. But aside from his first girlfriend back in middle school, he'd never really dated. 

He'd told Jihoon with a thoughtful frown that "She didn't like that I made time to hang out with you-- so she had to go." 

"You and me, we're a package deal, ya know?" He hooked his arm around Jihoon's neck, giving him a sly kiss to his head, something he knew Jihoon hated but secretly liked, before dragging him off to the arcade.

His words had filled Jihoon to the brim with hope and love-- they had made him feel light. Those same emotions from back then are still present but now they only serve to keep Jihoon tied to Seuncheol, while Seungcheol roamed free, dragging Jihoon's battered heart through more roads paved with glass shards and cracked asphalt.

He'd endured the pain, thinking that it will all be worth it. That Seungcheol will realize that Jihoon was the only one for him too. That they would eventually find their way into each other's arms.

But Jihoon's a fool. Because this wasn't a love story and he wasn't the main character. He was the guy who made the end of the movie possible by giving way to the true protagonists by dying alone in a haunted forest. 

Jihoon's whole story only served as back story for Seungcheol getting together with Doyoon. 

And how ed up was that? Very.

The popcorn isn't settling well in his stomach and he feels like puking but even breathing makes him feel like he's attracting too much attention to himself, so he sits tight.

He sits there in the musty, old theater seats long enough that everyone's gone and the cleaning crew starts to come in. One of them approaches him, probably to ask him to leave, but the sound of him retching out all the empty calories of popped corn and soda made it a bit hard to hear.