Bobby threw his phone on the bed and kicked a chair. Even though his heart was numb, his toe was not. It hurt like hell. He cursed the world for making it hurt so much, watching his phone skip on his bed like a rock on a smooth lake surface, not once but twice, before jumping off the bed and out of sight, a loud thump indicating these might have been its last moments. He hobbled around the bed, hopping on one leg, not ready to say goodbye, neither to his phone, nor to Hanbin.

Carefully he picked it off the floor, dusting off imaginary dust, turning it every which way to make sure there were no cracks. He let out a breath of relief. It was still working. He checked his messages. There were no new ones. Only his own monologue, unread. It was one thing not to answer his calls and messages, but to not even have the decency to read them. That was harsh. Hanbin had a special ability to make his insides feel completely frozen.

He sighed, letting himself fall backwards on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what to do. He missed him so bad. He couldn't believe it was going to end like this. He couldn't even give him a properly dramatic movie ending, like they were Romeo and Julian, their forbidden love crushed by the big, bad world. No. It was nothing remotely like that. It was so mundane, that it was difficult to grieve. The world didn't end. He was still alive and well. They both were. And they had their whole lives ahead of them, even if they weren't together. But there was something missing, and he was the only one who knew it was missing. Everything was just a little bit greyer. It was just a little bit harder to find the fun in the things he used to love. A quiet loneliness that was his and his alone.

He had tried everything. He had tried calling. Messaging. He had staked out his studio. He tried ambushing him at his office, but he was nowhere to be found. And the song was finished, and they only had their final left, so there was no class to go to, so he had no way of forcing him to be in a room with him for more than a split second. He was out of ideas. And he was out of energy. It was as if he was solar powered, but his sun was gone. Everyone said a little heartache was gold for the creative soul, but his soul was just numb. He was stuck. He was caught in quicksand, slowly sinking, watching the Earth swallowing him piece by piece and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Are you not going to eat that?” Jinhwan pointed at his untouched muffin.

“Nahh, you can have it.” he pushed it away listlessly.

“What's up? You've been off color for a while now? And you look like you've lost weight. You're not sick are you?” Jinhwan asked, wrinkling his eyebrows worriedly.

He sighed. He might as well tell him. So he started at the beginning, and told him everything, every single detail. He thought it would make him feel better, give him some relief, or a new perspective, but he just felt more numb. It was like he was telling somebody else's story. A story he had read online, or in a book.

“Woa..” Jinhwan's jaw the floor.

“I know...” he shrugged.

“It's not over. It can't be over. Hmm... we can fix this. He's just being an idiot. I mean, who wouldn't want you as their boyfriend. He should be so lucky!” Jinhwan's eyes had turned fierce, a man on a mission. He appreciated it, but his heart was tired. And there was nothing more to be done.

“Oh! I could pose as your boyfriend!! That would totally get his attention!” Jinhwan bounced up and down.

“No. I don't want to do anything childish like that. I just want him to stop being a scared idiot and to stop making my decisions for me. I'm a grown up, I'm perfectly capable of living my own life.” he sighed and crossed his arms. There was a spark that went off inside him. He was mad. He was absolutely pissed! He could work with that. Everything was better than that grey mist that was killing his heart, silently suffocating him. He was angry, and he was going to use that anger to fuel his hollow heart.