“I love you, Eric.” He says it once. Under the influence. He says it to Jun Jin, too. And Minwoo, Andy, Dongwan.

“I love you” doesn't mean much these days. It's the same as thank you, sorry, pass me the salt. It's a billboard tagline, garden variety phrase. Society is surfeited with the term and it has saturated every roof tile and pipeline beneath a glossy neon tint.

Things like “I love you” and “I will remember you forever” are as fleeting as the passing wind, every prism a facetious glow, every angle of intent sawed off until all you have left is a circle of light, luminous, pale, like a candle flame over the surface of water, or the cold winter moon overhead. You won't be remembered forever. You'll be forgotten, little by little, until all that's left is an echo of melancholy.

You think maybe if you don't see Hyesung’s face as often as you do, you'll forget that, too. Little by little, it'll crumble, fade. You feel as if you've already forgotten important things, every existing memory tarnished with the salt of corrosive sweat.

Perhaps the most important memories have already eroded away, and every time you stretch toward them in longing they elude you. You plunge yourself into the seafoam but you can't find them, they continue to recede from your fingers, but that's no matter, you'll continue to sift through every grain of sand on this infinite beach until--

And even if he means it, even if it isn't “I love you,” even if it's I love you...

You know better. There is more than one way to love.