The darkness was swallowing her once more. She could hear it, his heavy breathing, his hands placed heavily right beside her head. She was crying but she couldn't scream. Every noise she makes is muffled by fear. She wanted everything to stop. She just wanted to be left alone for once. She wanted out but how? She felt his weight going down on her. She couldn't breathe. She heard the front door open and her usual happy greeting echo the staircase. She was coming. But he didn't seem to hear. He didn't look like he wanted to stop any sooner. She wanted to warn her. She heard her call her brother and her steps coming closer to her room. It was faint but she knew it was her. He breathed deep just as the knob turned...

"NO!"

But nothing came out of . Not even a sound. She felt burn and she found it hard to breathe. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light that seemed to fill the room slowly. She looked at the window. It was still dark but a thin line of orange skies drew itself in between earth and the heavens. She suddenly felt the cold air hug her body. She looked down and she saw herself , from her neck down to her feet. She was bare. Then she felt movement from right beside her on the bed.

There it was once again. Fear.

She slowly turned her head to look at the figure lying next to her. The blanket was up to his torso, covering his legs but she knew that just like her, he was . She was starting to shake and was finding it hard to breathe. She saw his face and although it reflected like an angel's, she still involuntarily jumped in surprise. She was breathing deep and fast, scared of what could happen next, afraid of what really went on last night. She removed the blanket from her own legs and slowly went down the bed, careful to not wake him up, her eyes locked in his image. As her feet touched the floor, she lifted one of her hands and covered . They were coming, she felt it.

Screams.

Tears.

She dropped onto the cold floor crying, trying her best not to wake up the man in her bed. She couldn't remember what exactly happened but she knew what she did. She did the same thing her father does every night more than 10 years ago. She was becoming just like him. She became the thing she feared the most. It was the monster finally creeping into her life. She was feeling her body ache and her head throb.

She tried to stand up, getting balance from her desk, a hand still on . Her tears continued to roll down her cheeks. But she had to act fast. She took a last look at her bed and saw the drops of blood on the sheets mixed with the juices they both produced last night. She felt even weaker and almost fell down as she reached the foot of the bed, her past flashing through her mind. She took heavy steps to her closet and opened it, looking for a shirt to wear. She didn't care what else she took out but as soon as she thought she was ready, she stepped out of the room and did her best to get to the bathroom.

It took her too much time, fighting over just collapsing on the floor or reaching the confides of the bathroom. She made it. She made it inside, only to slide down the door as she closed it, breaking down as tears continued to fall from her eyes. She couldn't believe what she did, what just happened. But more than that, her fear was owning her. The darkness was there. It was always right in front of her. And this time, it got the best of her. She was weak and she couldn't stand up. Her heartbeat was getting to its highest speed and her sight was already blurry. 

He felt the sun hit his face and he had to turn in the bed to avoid it. He still wanted to sleep but his head was throbbing too much, it wasn't even helping. Then he heard his phone ring. He reached for it on the bedside drawer but it wasn't there. Actually, his bedside drawer wasn't there as well. He shot his eyes wide open and sat on the bed. He could still hear his phone ring but he was too occupied at blinking, trying to remember where he was. He looked down at himself and realized he was all . And that's where it hit him.

"Chahye," he whispered.

He looked on the bed and there was no sign of her. She wasn't even inside the room. He stayed there, sitting down, but he couldn't feel her presence in the house as well. He stood up when he saw a pile of clothes on the chair near the closet. It was his. He heard the ringing again and pulled the pants from under the pile. His underwear came sliding off the chair as he fumbled through his pant's pockets looking for his phone. When he finally pulled it out, he stooped down and picked up the piece of clothing. He kept his phone in between his cheek and shoulders as he slid his legs through.

"Hello?" he said.
"Kwon Hyuk. Where the are you?! I've been trying to call you for an hour now."
"," he cursed as he almost fell as he pulled his underwear up. It was his manager on the other line. "I'm at home. I just woke up," he lied.
"Don't ing lie to me, Dean. I'm inside your house and your car isn't parked at your space. So unless you come back here soon or I'm telling your CEO."
"What are you going to tell him?" asked Dean as he put his pants on.
"That you just ed with one of your dancers. Don't try to fool around with me, Hyuk. JSin-nim told me he saw you talking to a girl before you left. And the description clearly fits your skinny Jin Chahye."
"Hey hey hey. Shut up. Don't talk about her like that. And don't you dare drag her into this. She has nothing to do with me," said Dean finally able to hold his phone up to his ear. "I'm going to leave soon okay? No need to get so bumped about it. I'll be home soon," he said.
"You better. We have a scheduled meeting with that production team from America at 2PM. And it's already 9, Hyuk."

The call ended abruptly and Dean stared at his phone. It is already past 9 and he saw numerous missed calls from his manager, Millic and Colde and Jusen. "I guess he asked them where I was. Sorry guys," he said imagining how pissed off 0channel would have been when his manager disturbed his sleep.

Dean took his shirt and put it on. Even his jacket was in that pile. He looked around and it seemed like Chahye did some cleaning before he woke up. It made him smile, thinking at how much of a responsible homemaker she must be. But it bothered him as well. How was she even able to work her way inside her house after ? He tilted his head as he wondered and slid his phone back into his pocket.

He stepped out of the door and saw Chahye in a big shirt, sitting on the floor in front of her television, her back against him. Somehow, seeing her hug her knees and silent didn't give him peace of mind. He looked around and saw that everything was in order. The bottles they drank from last night were no longer on the table. The sofa was made and neat and the table was clear of all the snacks they munched through all night. There was a faint lemon scent lingering in the place. 

"Chahye," he called calmly as he took a step forward.
"If you don't need anything else, you can leave now," she said very sternly despite her soft voice.

Dean couldn't talk or answer. He wanted to stay. He wanted to talk. He walked towards her, enough to see the side of her body. The cabinet the television was on was open. A cardboard box laid in front of her and she was holding what seemed to be a medicine box.

"A-Are you... Are you all right, Chahye?" he asked.
"Didn't you understand what I just said, Dean? I said you can leave now," she said not even looking at him.
"Chahye... Look, about last night..." Dean started.
"What can't you understand from what I just said, Dean?!" said Chahye slightly raising her voice. "I told you to leave!"
"I'm not leaving until we talk," he insisted.
"What is there left to talk about? We did it, didn't we? You should be happy. You can go and live happily now," she said.
"That's exactly why we should talk. Why are you acting like this?" said Dean raising his voice as well, stepping closer to her.
Chahye finally stood up and put the medicine pack she was holding back into the cardboard box. "We have nothing to talk about, Dean. Now please, leave! You have schedules today, right? Go!" she shouted.
Dean stepped closer to her and looked straight into her eyes, each of them not wavering. "We just had last night and you're treating me like right now, something you don't want to have anything to do with anymore," said Dean.
"You're right. I don't need you. That was just , Dean. It meant nothing to me. So please give us both a favor and leave me alone," she said turning around.
But Dean grabbed her arm and made her turn around, his hand gripping tightly. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what the matter with you is. Why are you acting like this? I thought we already had a thing last night," he said.
Chahye was starting to get nervous inside. The way he held her was scaring her. But she had to act tough. She can't cry in front of him. She didn't want to look weak. "There was no us, Dean. There was never an us," she said.
"So, what was that? Drunk ?! I'm not buying it. I know you like me," he said not believing her.
Chahye pulled her arm away from his. "I don't like you! Don't you see? I just needed you. I just needed someone to with because you've been succesful at each and every time. I don't like you!" shouted Chahye.
Dean's eyes opened wide, not believing what he just heard from her. "No. You're not that kind of person. Chahye, don't do this to me. If it feels awkward that we actually had and you're just fronting, you don't have to worry. I don't plan in ever leaving you. We can act like nothing ever happened," he said trying to reach her hand.
But she walked over to the sofa, taking one of the pillows into her hands. "Yeah. Act like nothing happened. So go! The door is open. You can leave now!" shouted Chahye, her back in front of him.
"Chahye, please..." Dean tried to say.
But Chahye took one of the pillows and turned around, throwing at him. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" she shouted.

Dean ducked just as the pillow was about to hit him. He looked up and saw Chahye get another pillow. He wanted to stop her but he saw her face wet. She was crying. He didn't know what to do anymore and he just stepped aside towards the door. He didn't hear her scream anymore but he nonetheless opened it and stepped outside.

He couldn't understand why she acted like that. Just last night, as far as he could remember, she was the one who made him get so . She made it look like she owned the night. He never imagined her to become so provocative and yet she was successful at doing so. She owned him that night.

He slid himself down the door, covering his face with his hands. Images from last night swirled in his head. He could never forget the way she smiled as he kissed her. He knew it was sincere. He believed she liked him back. Or maybe it was just the thought of that made her happy. What if it's true that Chahye just needed to be laid because of too much sensual feelings from him? She just used him. Impossible, he thought. He has only known Chahye for a short time but he was sure she wasn't that kind of person. If she uses people, she could have used her cousins first. Why would she even cry? It doesn't add up.

His phone started ringing again and he contemplated whether to answer it. It was Millic calling.

"Man, where are you? Jusen got rammed by your manager," he said in a whisper.
"Tell him I'll be there in an hour. I need to go wash up first," he told him.
"You sure? We're planning to ditch your studio already. We don't want to get too pissed off with him. And Colde is already," said Millic.
"Yeah. Just... Give me an hour," said Dean ending the call and finally standing up.

He decided to just go home and talk to Chahye when she finally has her head straight. Even though he knew it wasn't the case, he was hoping that everything was just a result of a bad hangover, something he needs to tend too as well before he faces his manager.

"This is just so ed up," he thought.