"Leaving wasn't easy."

I.

It has been a year since Hanbin was completely gone.

And in that year, was full of mournings, regrets, and tears from the people who loved him--who had been supporting him. The news immediately brought sorrow to the music industry as he was one of the most awaited stars to shine.

A year has already passed but Bobby have never forgotten the conversations he and Hanbin had. Everytime he wakes up and do things, until he goes to bed, Hanbin was all he could see. He remembered his contagious laughs, his embarassing, yet, funny remarks, how hard he worked, and for his undying love for Mickey Mouse and chococones. The thought of Kim Hanbin never left this broken boy beyond repair.

And it's starting to freaking consume him up.

"Hey." He was finally snapped out of his thoughts. He looked to the direction of the voice and saw Jinhwan standing through the door. Seeing how the older was looking at him, it seems like he messed up pretty bad, again.

"Bobby," Jinhwan sighed. "You know you--you can't be like this." He sounded almost frustrated. "I know it's been hard for you, but it's harder for us seeing you like this. You think you're the only one suffering?"

Bobby looked away and stared at the bed infront of him that hasn't been occupied for a year. He felt a tear forming in his eyes but he immediately blinked them away. He cannot cry, not that Jinhwan is here.

"Just leave me alone--"

"There's still five of us, Bobby! It has been a year and the world already moved on--we also did. Why can't you?"

He snorted and grinned, a small mocking laugh escaped his lips. Move on? He said to himself. How can you say that so effin' easy, hyung?

He wanted to scream, get mad, and curse at his hyung. In Bobby's case, he should be the one who understands him the most because they were best friends. The three of them trained together for years and for the friendship they've built--for better and for worst--Jinhwan should've known all too well.

But he didn't.

"Fix yourself. We need to practice."

Jinhwan leaving and shutting the door behind, Bobby sighed taking his time to regain his senses that was lost for the whole night because of the lack of sleep. After brushing his face off with his hands he finally got up to his feet and fixed himself before totally losing it.

II.

"Do you want some help?" Yunhyeong asked him. Bobby shot him a confused look, diverting his eyes away from his desktop computer. The older scratched his head, realizing what the hell he is offering him just now. "Uh. I know I'm not good in composing. . . I don't know. But if you need some help. . ." Yunhyeong stared, finding for the right words to fit in his sentence but couldn't. He sighed in defeat. "You know, nevermind."

Bobby laid his back on his swivel chair and removed his headphones. He formed a thin smile at the older. He did appreciate what Yunhyeong is trying to do, and he knew what it is. He knew that he's just trying to make him feel better and to divert his thoughts away from the guy who was supposed to be the one offering for a help.

Bobby shook his head.

"I'm totally fine, hyung. Thanks."

The older just nodded his head and backed up. Bobby continued on working on a piece that he has been doing for like, what, months? but still hasn't finished yet. He'd been debating on whether to just dispose the whole idea or just recycle and start it over. He doesn't know what to do. Everytime he tries to listen to it, it sounds like so over-used, sometimes overdone and so 2000 so much. Being bugged out and preoccupied is so toxic it feels like you could die from it. It made him long for Hanbin's presence even more.

He sighed and just closed down the window and started rummaging through his folders of unfinished songs. He needs some inspiration to regain his thirst for making music because, being like this won't make him go anywhere. Maybe listening to his other works will finally make up his mind for something creative and fresh.

After scrolling down for a bit, his eyes caught something so unfamiliar. He scrolled back and his eyebrows turned into a crease as soon as his eyes landed on the file that has his name entitled on it. But what confused him the most, it was entitled. . .

for_bobby.mp3

Like, have I been drunk composing? He asked himself, still not fully aware on how and when he did the track. And it says mp3. It's a track for sure.

"Damm," he cursed. "I must have been very lonely I unconsciously did this."

Laughing at himself, he clicked the track, excited as to what he will hear from it and thought that it might boost his inner beast back to making good music. But that's only what he thought. Little did he know he wasn't really drunk composing because, in the first place, it wasn't really him who created the track.

"Hey, Bobby,"

A moment after opening the track, two words were already enough to send shiver to his skin. His mouth slightly went agape and his lonely heart started racing like he had never felt before. His hand, that was holding the mouse, started shaking. While the other started gripping the hem of his baggy shirt.

"W-What is this?"  he muttered, waiting for the voice to speak again. And when it did, Bobby's world was completely shaken.

"It's me, Hanbin."

He immediately hit the pause button and scanned the screen as if he will find something that would tell him what the freaking track means. Although he already knew, just by whose voice it was he could definitely figure out, he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that it's a suicide letter--ah, no. It's more of a suicide track.

"Oh, shiz, shi--" He gripped his hair as tears started to form in his small eyes. His eyes went blurry and he's starting to lose it, again.

How come I only knew about this just now?

He had been using this computer, making music on it, he use it to watch videos whenever he's stressed. How come he never knew about this? He was stressing himself, looking through Hanbin's stuffs to find a note that would explain his death. He even scanned all of his notepads and papers on his studio, his phone and on his tablet. There wasn't any. Turns out it was just sitting in his computer. For a year now.

How come I never thought it could be in one of my things?

After shedding a good amount of tears, Bobby fixed himself and pulled back his tears to where they're supposed to be. He reached for his mouse and slowly moved its way to where the play button is. He plugged his headphones on, ready for his heart to break.

One click and the track is playing.

III.

"Hey, Bobby. . . It's me, Hanbin."

Just five words (if their names can be even counted as one) and he could already feel his, already broken heart, breaking.

"Shi--" he sniffed.

"This is so weird, you know." Hanbin laughed. "Recording something that isn't about music. Just me. Talking. And pouring my heart out."

Hanbin laughed again and you don't know how much Bobby wanted to punch Hanbin's face, which is impossible for him to do because his friend is already dead.

What's so funny, bastard? Is this funny to you?

"If you're hearing this, maybe . . . I'm already, uhm, gone," a pause. "I debated on whether making this or not all. I don't know. I don't really get the point at first. Because, why? You know, killing yourself then leaving a note? For what? Make your family and friends suffer even more after your horrendous, surprise death?"

His lips were shaking as he tried to plunge in his head every words Hanbin was saying. Words that are made of blade, sharp, and torturing. The silence went long and Bobby was alarmed, thinking that the track might've been broken. But, fortunately, it wasn't. Hanbin just added some unnecessary thrill.

"Hey, Bobby,"  he called again. The jerk freaking answered.

"Y-Yeah?"

"This track is specially made just for you. Because, I know, that once you find out about me taking my own life, you will blame yourself. So the purpose of this is to assure you that, hey, it's none of your fault and will never be."

"W-What the f--" he choked on his own sobs. A lump in his throat formed and he gasped for air to breathe. "This is so cruel, you bastard!"

"You're always the one who gets worry of things, we both know that. And I'm always the one who  reassures you that there's nothing to be worried about. But now that I'm . . . d-dead, who will, Bobby?"

"It's never your fault. I--I chose this. I chose to end everything right there and then. It's so funny how the things that once made you so happy can kill you now. And that's what music did to me. Music made me the happiest, excited and the most terrible person--all at once."

"N-No. You love music. W-Why?"

Why? The only question that's pestering his little mind. Why? Hanbin gave up everything for this--music. He gave up his teenage life, studies, and other things for his training. He loves making music. How could music made him the most terrible person he think he is?

"Thank you, Bobs, for everything. I just want to thank you. For being the bestest friend in the whole universe. Thank you for all the good memories that I will probably take with me to my grave."

"B-But. . . this is so selfish of y-you."

"I want you to be happy."

"You can't do