He had tried any positions, he had tried drinking milk (even had a race with Chanhee which the younger won because Juho choked up), but none of these worked. The vision became more vivid as days went by and it wasn’t only Rowoon’s weak “Juho, I’m not a bad person” but also the jail incident. It’s an images sequence, changing one to another frequently without pausing, bothering Juho who expected a good quality sleep on the only day he could take a rest. But, Rowoon’s hopeless expression and tearstained cheeks behind the iron gate made his heart swell with guilt that he never intended to feel.

The ticking clock didn’t help him feeling at ease despite its constant and monotonous rhythm. Juho shifted to his side, propping his cheek with the palm of his hand as he looked at the peacefully sleeping Chanhee next to him. The younger was the cutest when sleeping and Juho couldn’t help to adore the angelic face of him. How come he sleeps this peacefully when he was also with Rowoon, asked him silently.

Juho smiled gently before pulling the duvet higher to Chanhee’s chin, protecting him from January’s freezing temperature. He woke up, taking his jacket then opening the door very carefully. He walked through the living room and unlocked the front door, stepping outside the warmth of his small rented house.

The cold gust blew, erecting hairs on his skin even though he had five layers of clothes plus a jacket covering his body. The ceiling lamp flickered, burning the filamen with its last spark and dimly igniting the front porch. Juho approached the guardrail that fended the space in front of the row of rented houses. His house was located in the higher area of the city and had a staircase to reach his house. The guardrail kept the people from dying dumb way: falling to other house’s roof eight meters away from the spot. His neighbors were mostly productive-aged people and a couple of elder; woman and man, single and married, working or jobless. But they were very kind and sociable that they decorate the stark space in front of their houses with a low square table to sit and also a handmade bench and a few pots with various plants. The cosmopolis could be seen from his place, bright with various colors of light from cars and buildings, and Juho was thankful he was given all of these things when he couldn’t even dream of a beautiful place.

Juho leaned on the railing, letting the metal bars propped his weight. Fogs were emitting from as he exhaled and he rubbed his arms to warm himself. He guessed it’s already past midnight, assuming from the coldness that killed human’s nerves.

This wasn’t Juho’s suicide plan, nor he wanted to catch cold to skip school. He just wanted a refreshment from everything despite the merciless cold. Everything that bothered him these days, everything that annoyed him to death, everything that was unexplainable, everything that pained his head, everything that basically involved Rowoon in it. If the cold accidentally killed him, he’d definitely accept it. That’d be less painful than die because of sleep deprivation and accidentally fell down the stairs to the main street.

Juho’s mind ran to a certain person, and to his younger brother and to his best friends. He didn’t want to believe Rowoon at all, his appearance just so magical, unexplainable, and whatever coming out from just unconvincing for him. From he wasn’t a bad person to his escape from his stepmother. Everything didn’t click, everything sounded so phantasmic yet three most important people in his life were impelling him to believe Rowoon. He had encountered many troublesome people and he didn’t believe someone that instant because of that. A lot of money-oriented and bastards.

However, Rowoon was as real as his house and electricity bills (that also appeared magically but unwanted) and he was counted as a human being that had rights. Juho knew the day he sent the pretty boy to the jail, he had violated Rowoon’s rights. But he needed to because he and Chanhee’s life could be at stake if he believed everyone that easy. What had happened to him the day he evicted Rowoon, the consequence that haunted him, Youngbin, and Taeyang for nearly two weeks didn’t seem to come to an end. Youngbin fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t force any conversation, either begging him to bring Rowoon back or just asking about his condition, but one thing that mattered was the three were constantly going to school with eyebags and black circle under their eyes.

Juho looked down to the concrete, suddenly feeling dilemmatic and faltered. This Rowoon curse was not nearing an end, it’s getting worse. Taeyang and Youngbin became the victims of a dumb clown and he himself couldn’t sleep at night when four hour sleep was the only proper rest he could get on weekdays. He had become a breathing dead since Rowoon’s first encounter.

And Chanhee was sleeping fine.

Now that the realization hit him like a truck for the second time, his gears began to roll again, thinking of many reasons why Chanhee was out of Rowoon’s list of people to be cursed. And it got him.

Chanhee never wanted Rowoon to leave and he was kind around the boy. Probably Rowoon liked him, not like Juho who clearly despised his appearance. And even though he also couldn’t do anything when Juho insisted on calling the cops, he had made a good impression to Rowoon.

“Aish…” Juho hissed and fogs emanated from again. Juho looked up when he heard the metal door was being closed and a figure of his younger brother, draping a duvet around his face, got closer to him.

“Hyung, what are you doing here ? It’s freaking cold,” said him with clattering teeth.

“Nothing. Hyung has been so busy that I can’t enjoy Seoul city at night from here.”

“Liar. Night falls earlier. You can do that like at 7, not at 2 in the morning.” Juho might be the best in fighting but he was surely not a diplomatic person. The silence affirmed him that the older was lying so the younger held his brother’s arms.

“What’s wrong hyung ? Something happened in workplace ? Another gang messed up with you ? Debt collector ?” Juho smiled at the younger’s questions, ruffling the boy’s hair in process. Chanhee