The call came at three in the morning.

He didn’t look at the caller ID when he picked up, voice low and groggy from sleep. “Hello?”

There was a beat of silence before a tremulous voice spoke, familiar and unexpected all at once. “Seunghyun?”

He was immediately alert, eyes flying open in the darkness. “Noona?” It came out as a harsh, disbelieving whisper. She hadn’t called in months since—

“Seunghyunie.” Her voice hitched tellingly. She was crying. That meant she had to be drunk because she only ever cried off the cameras when she was very drunk, and because nowadays she only called Seunghyun when she was very, very drunk. He could picture her slumped over without any hint of her normal poise, laughing and crying all at once because she had always been a combination of the worst kind of drunks there. He had found that endearing once. “Can I see you, please?”

“Noona….” Something clenched in his chest. Concern. Anger. She had to be drinking alone, because most of her close friends knew by now to stop her from calling him when she got drunk. When she got drunk, she was needy. She was selfish. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Please, Seunghyun.” A whimper. He closed his eyes. 

“Get a taxi.”

“I can’t—" she faltered. If pictures got out of a wasted actress who lived off her image....

“That’s none of my business,” Seunghyun said stonily. “I’m not a dog that comes and goes as you please.”

“No, Seunghyun,” she cried. “Never. No, never.”

“Where is So Jisub-sshi?” he asked tightly, keeping his voice low. She was supposed to be the other man’s problem now, not his. No, not a problem, his mind rejected the term immediately. Never.

She only started to cry harder, sobs that crackled through the line. He exhaled resignedly, getting out of bed, trying to be quiet.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he whispered into his phone even as he pulled on a shirt. “You have a boyfriend now.”

“Not anymore,” she laughed, her voice cracking with alcohol and tears and borderline hysteria. So, that was why, he thought to himself sourly. So Jisub must have broken up with her, and she had never dealt well with rejection; she never had much experience with it, as a matter of fact. “But now that I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, this is okay, right, Seunghyun?”

“No, it’s not,” he said quietly, looking at the woman sleeping on his bed. But she must have heard the hesitation because her voice changed suddenly, dipped lower into a hushed whisper that sounded almost tender if he closed his eyes and thought of her smile.

“Did you miss me, Seunghyun?”

“No,” he said too quickly. Overcompensating.

“I missed you though,” she said dreamily, breathily. He felt a familiar catch in his throat at the confession. She always sounded so sincere. “I missed you so much.”

He closed his eyes, bit down harshly on his bottom lip like that would seal the words that would ruin him. “Where are you?”

“The old spot in Gangnam.” She laughed again. Her mood oscillated between teary to childlike whenever she drank too much, and he had never been able to keep up with her, drunk or otherwise. “It’s been so long since I last came here. I think the last time was with you. Yes, it was. I always come here with you.” Another laugh. “We have a lot of special memories, don’t we, Seunghyun?”

“That’s enough.” He finished doing up the last button. “I’m coming now. Stay put.”

“Look at you,” she giggled flirtatiously, drunkenly. He could imagine her flushed cheeks and dark, limpid eyes sparkling with alcohol. It wasn’t fair, but she had always been pretty—even when she was drunk. “Taking charge and ordering me around, now, hmm?”

“What a change, right?” Seunghyun asked wryly before catching himself. He was treading on dangerous ground. Reminiscing the past always—inevitably—led to him repeating the same mistake. But then again, he was already halfway there anyway he thought to himself dryly as he pulled on his shoes.

“I like this,” she said sweetly. “It’s a nice look on you. But everything looks good on you, doesn’t it, my pretty Seunghyunie?”

“Noona, stop it or I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” It was a hollow threat. He would always be there for her as much as he denied it, and the both of them knew it. She knew it all too well, as a matter of fact. She used it often. She was using it now.

“Seunghyun ah.” Her voice quietened. She sounded sad. “Should we start again?”

He hung up on her, tossing his phone aside like a snake that had bitten him. It bounced across the floor with a loud clatter.

“Seunghyun?” The woman on the bed stirred, raising her head. It was an empty echo of the name framed like a question that he had heard over the receiver barely minutes ago. The same, yet different.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately said, contrite. “I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay,” she murmured, lying down again, patting the covers beside her. “Come here, it’s cold.”

“I have to leave, I got a call.” He moved to stoop over her and drop a kiss on her forehead. An unspoken apology for what he had done—for what he would do.

“Jiyong-kun got into trouble again?” she chuckled, the sound breathy with sleep and exhaustion.

“Mm,” he hummed vaguely. Not a yes. Not a no. Not a lie. “I have to go now, Moeka.”

“Come back soon,” she murmured, already half-asleep.

He closed the door. He knew he wouldn’t.