A cold sweat. Heavy breaths and frantic eyes, desperately trying to grasp on anything, only hitting the sheets and the walls beside him with a muffled “Ouch”.

Junhui sits straight up, back resting against the headboard, eyes still roaming the dark room, only outlining pieces of furniture using what small light he has through the curtains of his room. He sets his head back carefully and slows his intake of air, trying to calm the racing of his heart. He doesn’t remember the nightmare that woke him up this time.

Once he has regained his composure, he leans over and takes his phone, reading the time, 5:23 AM, and scrolling through messages and notifications he had received over night. He is seeing messages from Soonyoung and Jeonghan, a few from Seungcheol and one from Jihoon, reminding him that the class field trip was today, and he should be mildly prepared and not forget anything vital to his friend group. (The message from Seungcheol reminding him to absolutely not forget the tabs that Seungcheol had worked oh so ing hard to get)

Friday, April 22.

Junhui groaned as he threw his arms behind his head and stretched out what was left of the night in his body. Spinning his body, he shivered as the cold of the wood flooring touched his bare feet, and he was glad that it was Friday, and they did not have much work to do, besides trying to stay orderly afterwards knowing that the friends were about to have the trip of a lifetime- and not the field trip kind.

“Junhui!” He flicked on his lamp as his mother called him from upstairs, signaling him to shower before his early departure to the bus. He walked over to the window and pushed back the curtains to look out at the street, quiet, like expected for 5:30 AM, but full of promises for his day. He turned quickly, trying to find clean clothes to wear before he would make himself late by just staring out the window, and hurried upstairs, cursing when he stumbled on the step.

“Watch your mouth,” His mother called from above him.

“Fix the stairs first.” He trotted up the rest and claimed the bathroom for the time being.

Rolling his neck back, he sighed loudly as the warm water cascaded over his sore body, pondering over why he felt so tired today. He had woken up in the middle of the night more often than not now, and he can never seem to remember why. The only memory of his dreams are himself, looking at his phone, feeling scared and distraught over the news that flashed across the screen. He can never seem to remember what it said, though.

Kissing his mother goodbye for the day, he hopped into his car and giddily made his way to the car park where the coach busses were, going over his mental checklist and making sure he didn’t forget anything (which he did not, he knew Seungcheol would have his head if he forgot the tablets).

Jumping out of his car once he arrived, he checked in with the teacher who gave him a weird glance, which he brushed off, seeing how he was never this excited for the astronomy class anyway, and headed straight onto the bus, hearing his name being called all the way from the back. He nodded his head in a greeting and squeezed through the aisle, taking a seat next to Seungcheol who had the window seat, across the aisle from Jihoon, who sat alone, most likely waiting for their other friend, and behind Jeonghan and Soonyoung who hung over the seats, watching Junhui as he sat down, bringing his bag into his lap.

“You didn’t forget, right?” Seungcheol spoke lowly, and Junhui nodded in response, sticking his hand in his bag and feeling the pill bottle, keeping his head looking through the aisles, careful not to seem suspicious to other students. Under Soonyoung’s guarding gaze who watched the students in front of them and Jeonghan’s mischievous glare, Junhui slowly pulled the bottle out and placed it in Seungcheol’s hand, who also totally inconspicuously watched out the window as said action was being done.

Junhui sighed as he stared at Seungcheol duck and put his hand into his bag, and pull it back out empty. He turned and saw Jihoon observed the whole exchange with a smirk, and huddled back into his book, his pinkish curls bouncing as he turned his head.

Jeonghan sighed above them. He looked up to make eye contact. “Trip of a lifetime,” He said with a quirked eyebrow. “It feels just like falling in love.” He batted his eyelashes obnoxiously as Soonyoung nudged him from his position, propped against the window so he could properly survey their whole group.

“Like you would know what that feels like.” Jeonghan scowled at the younger boy, and turned to the aisle to see as the last of their six-person friend group came strutting down, waiting for Jihoon to scoot over to the window seat. “Speaking of being in love, look who showed up.” They laughed, Jeonghan piped in.

“Cupid himself.” His comment earned him a flick to the forehead from said Cupid.

“Sorry that I just know what love feels like, unlike you sad boys.” Joshua prodded as he took the seat Jihoon had left for him. He added in his two cents at this.

“By ‘love’ he means .” Junhui hooked his bag onto the back of Jeonghan’s seat and watched the two go back and forth.”

“Maybe.” Joshua muttered with a grin.

“Oh,” Soonyoung put a hand to his chest in faux surprise. “Is this Joshua ing Hong admitting to having a thing with the one and only Choi ing Seungcheol?” Joshua laughed at this remark and rose his gaze to Soonyoung. He shrugged suggestively.

“Could be.” He looked away with a sly grin as Jeonghan in a breath. Joshua nodded his head in Seungcheol’s direction, signaling he was speaking to him. “You got ‘em?” Seungcheol just nodded, Junhui didn’t need to ask what he was talking about.

The bus roared to life as the engine , and Junhui explicitly moaned while throwing his head back knowing they would be leaving soon. Soonyoung plopped down in his seat and Jeonghan turned, his hair being draped over the back of the seat before he was seated fully. He pulled his phone out and looked at the time, 6:45 AM, it would take at least an hour to get into the city. He had plenty of time to relax on the bus.

His head fell sideways to glance down the aisle, nobody in particular catching his interest except for the hand tapping on the armrest, three seats in front of Jihoon and Joshua. The black sweater clung to his arm, only his fingers and parts of his knuckles peeking out before it disappeared completely inside the seat.

Junhui did not see who he was sitting next to, but the thought that anyone sat next to him at all had him curious. It was Jeon Wonwoo, the quiet one in the class despite his upbringing. It was a little disturbing that Junhui knew so much about him, but growing up in the same high school, and college, now, it was kind of hard not to. His parents were loaded, like, seriously loaded. They owned and founded the business Jeonetics, specializing in the practice of cosmetic surgery. It would make sense for kids to want to be friends with him, if his parents had cake, then hell, he sure had a lavish childhood. Glances during class and being partnered up once or twice showed Junhui that after all Wonwoo was not like the rich kids he had known back in China; he didn’t flaunt his new shoes or gracefully exit the Lamborghini his parents drove him to school in. He had discovered he was rather introverted, and had pushed away many attempts at friendship, but a careful eye showed Junhui that he did it to many, but a few stuck around with him.

He knows that in college, Wonwoo wasn’t the fan favorite to the rest of the students, and Junhui often watched on in pity and anger as some kids, Junhui says kids, because what college student would do this? Junhui doesn’t know, picked on him often for being the only rich kid they have ever known that rejects any attempts to show off what he has. The most often repeated (and the most horrible insult Junhui has heard thrown at the kid) was why he was so not fit to beauty standards if his parents could easily fix it. It wasn’t even being said to Junhui, but he felt the recoil from that one.

Unlike everyone else who held judging gazes and whispers of malice and childish phrases, Junhui drunk up his appearance, amazed by how he looked so casual and unbothered while walking to the lecture hall in Gucci. A golden ring with an expensive looking jewel on his right hand, designer glasses and a necklace of diamonds, Louis Vuitton backpack, every other day a button down Giorgio Armani with an equally expensive smelling cologne; Junhui was infatuated with how he could know he really had the best of the best yet act like he didn’t. It didn’t bother Junhui, only drew him in further.

The college experience he had with the kid really showed him why he pushed so many people away, due to pungent comments thrown around behind his back or the fear that they are using him for money, he feels almost bad for him, he seems to always be clenching and unclenching his fist in anxiety. His soft hands, that is because of course he can afford only the best moisturizer.

Reluctantly, he turned his head away from the aisle where Wonwoo’s hand had appeared again, nervously drumming on the armrest like he had moments ago. He tuned in to the banter between Jeonghan and Seungcheol, not really bothering to jump in, instead, he turned to look out Seungcheol’s window. The ominous gray clouds in the distance had Junhui balling his own fists; a signal to his gut like it was trying to tell him about an oncoming paradigm shift.

--

The bus halted, and Junhui heard a chorus of ‘Yes!’ and ‘Thank God’ throughout the whole stretch of the vehicle. He stood, stretching out for the second time this morning and shuffling into the aisle, letting Jihoon, Joshua, and Seungcheol take the place before him. Looking down to make sure he did not trip on his own two feet while exiting, he watched as Jihoon, who was in front of Seungcheol, reach into his pocket and grab a ball of crumpled paper, which Junhui thinks may have been through a few wash cycles. He expected him to put it back, or throw it away, however, was shocked when he tossed it a few rows up front, and it hit Wonwoo square in the back of the head. He didn’t turn around to see who threw it, only looked at what had hit him.

His friends, on the contrary, did not know Wen Junhui’s enamor for Jeon Wonwoo.

He had seen it too many times, they were not the main abusers but added to the fire by lowly spoken comments and talking about him whenever they sat together, and it hurt Junhui, but he didn’t have the balls to tell them to knock it off.

Drawing his attention away from the paper, the person who stood next to Wonwoo was easily recognizable, it was hard not to know who the kid was. Close to the tallest kid in the class and known for catching the attention of every female who laid eyes on him, Kim Mingyu was an unusual candidate for being friends with Wonwoo. Truthfully, Junhui does not know much about him, but he knows enough to say that their personalities clash.

Whatever, who cares, doesn’t matter, he chants on a mantra. Paying full (almost full, he noticed now he really hadn’t eaten anything and was a bit hungry) attention to Seungcheol who was saying something about this place, like he had been here millions of times but Junhui knows he’s full of and has been probably once with his family.

The cool air hit him in the face when he stepped out, in a good way of course, the kind of cool air that let everyone know that summer was right around the corner and he felt refreshed as he let it wisp through his denim jacket. He deeply inhaled the air and tried to pay somewhat attention to what his teacher was saying, something about the museum and , honestly, Junhui just feels glad to be away from the school itself.

He was jerked forward a second later by Seungcheol who motioned for him to follow with the rest of the group, keeping heed on the boy who walked closer to the front.

The museum was, well, a museum. If you’re not into that stuff, like Junhui, it went by in a blur. He can only remember three distinct parts of the whole thing, Seungcheol nearly falling down the stairs and only being saved by Jeonghan who shoved him back forward so hard he crashed into Soonyoung who then almost knocked over some telescope on display; a young teen mistaking Jihoon for someone his age, and Jihoon’s glaring threats of murder if they didn’t shut up about it; and what was about to happen.

The way back brought them aching to go home for the weekend, the six friends aching to get ed up for the first time in a while. The sky was growing dark, which caught him by surprise, how long were they in there? He can barely remember eating lunch. They climbed on the bus and he signed in content when he sat down on the comfortable cushion, almost falling asleep but holding himself back due to excitement for tonight. He watched as Kim Mingyu walked into the row three seats in front of Jihoon and Joshua, and wondered why Jeon Wonwoo never sat down next to him.

--

Junhui laughed as Soonyoung nearly tripped over his own two feet trying to get out of the bus and to the cars, eager to bring the day trip to an end.

“Who did you come with?” Junhui aimed at Seungcheol, who pointed to Jeonghan. “You?” He said to Jihoon, who also pointed to Jeonghan, and again at Soonyoung who yet again pointed to Jeonghan.

“I’m going with Josh now, sorry Jeonghan.” Seungcheol wasted no time in climbing in the passenger seat of Joshua’s car, and Soonyoung headed to Jeonghan’s own.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, pal.” Junhui walked around and hopped in the driver’s seat as Jihoon situated next to him. His head was buzzing on the way back, he and Jihoon going back and forth about what they liked and what they thought was so goddamn stupid about the trip, his body eager to just settle down and pop some pills already.

Pulling into the lot for Jeonghan’s apartment, Junhui sighed, the day was finally over and he can finally unwind. Jihoon had dashed out of the car before Junhui could even shift the gear into park, and he doesn’t blame him either. Shutting the car door and stalking after Jihoon, he grew more excited and anxious with each step.

He has done drugs. Junhui has done his fair share of drugs just like everyone else and though he wasn’t addicted, he did get excited whenever one of his friends told him they had struck gold and got their hands on some goods. This time was certainly no exception, especially since it had been about a month since he last relaxed and got loose with his friend group.

His excitement faded into an anxious feeling as they ate the take out Jeonghan was smart enough to pick up on his way home. He had never done this drug in particular, but his worries and suspicions never held him back with his friends in a case like this.

Three hours and four boxes of pizza later, the six boys were pleasantly thrumming to the music streaming throughout the home. Joshua seemed to be the most faded, acting out of line and occasionally shouting at someone for something stupid, laughing in a way that sounded totally unlike him and every time Junhui looked over he was lacking another piece of clothing.

Junhui was more chill, not like Joshua or Jeonghan who were loudly singing to a song that Junhui was way to out of it to focus on, but he was sitting on the couch beside Jihoon, listening to the small boy speak on and on about something that Junhui, in all honesty, wasn’t paying attention to either. All he could digest was a very quick pace and saying something about textbooks and essays, maybe he was ranting? He didn’t sound angry, and when Junhui looked over his eyes were wider than usual and pupils blown.

Soonyoung was off in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets, seeing oblivious to the pizza box with half a pizza left in it but Junhui left him to himself, paying no mind. Seungcheol eventually dragged his boyfriend away from the dance battle and claimed him for himself, Junhui looked away for his own sake.

11:57 PM. Junhui felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hastily pulled it out while squinting to see what was written, the brightness so high he felt he could go blind.

Except, now he felt like he could drop dead. “Oh my god.”

He spoke eerily normally for someone who was pretty faded, grabbing the attention of Jihoon and Jeonghan, the other three not giving him their attention. “What?” Jihoon rasped out.

Junhui took a moment to process what news he was seeing splayed on the screen, and when he viciously tried to blink it away, it still remained. “Wonwoo is dead.”

They both stared; Jihoon spoke. “What?” He repeated.

Junhui shoved his phone in their face. “Look, look. He’s dead. Holy …” He swiped open the article reading its contents. “Holy , oh my god.”

Jeonghan shook his shoulders. “What? Spit it out what does it say?”

“It was a suicide. Jeon Wonwoo is dead, holy .” Jeonghan took a moment to process this, along with Jihoon, both trying to act like they weren’t on cloud nine.

“The one in our class? The rich one with the surgeon parents?” Jihoon interrogated.

“Yes, that one! What other Jeon Wonwoo do we know?” Junhui scanned the article again, desperately trying to find any hints that this was not true, and he had the context wrong. The signs said negative for that conclusion, though. He glanced at the piece that said time of death, ’11:06 PM’. He glanced up at his phone, 11:59. He felt the veins in his body vibrate, he felt shivers up and down his spine and his vision went red. He was grabbing his phone so hard that he could have broken it, Junhui stared into the screen with the silent plea that it was not real, Jeon Wonwoo was not dead. He felt like he could scream and he was going to, but as he opened his mouth, he froze, all stood still, and he sat straight up.

A cold sweat. Heavy breaths and frantic eyes, desperately trying to grasp on anything, only hitting the sheets and the walls beside him with a muffled “Ouch”.

Another nightmare. No headache, which was surprising to him, seeing how he can recall most of the events that happened last night. He was in his own bed though. Who brought him home? When did he get home? How did all the fun of last night end?

He sat still in the darkness. He listened to the early birds chirping out his window and situated himself with the objects in his room with the dim light streaking through his curtains. He felt the thrum of his heartbeat resonate within his chest, and he picked his phone from the bedside stand. He saw multiple messages from Jeonghan and Soonyoung, a few from Seungcheol and one from Jihoon. He scrunched his eyebrows, and wondered what they could tell him. Was it something about last night?

He opened Seungcheol’s message, and felt unreasonable fear in his stomach. Seungcheol was telling him that he could not forget, under any circumstances, to bring the goodies. He shook his head incredulously at his phone, wondering what Seungcheol trusted him with, and why it also seemed strangely familiar to the message he received the morning before. He his flash and looked around the room, he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the unopened pill bottle laying on his backpack.

He stood in a hurry, flicking on his light and looking around his room for the same clothes he wore yesterday, sure he threw the dirty clothes in his hamper like he always does. They were instead sitting right on his dresser, waiting to be worn.

He stood still for a moment, head throbbing with a million and one questions about what the was going on. He concluded it was one of two things: either he could see very vividly into the future, or he was living the same day again. He reached out and touched the wall, the dresser, his bedsheets, anything near him, trying to feel them to see if it really was not a dream and it wasn’t; it was all very real. He frantically picked up his phone, staring at his lock screen with the time that read 5:28 AM and the date.

Friday, April 22.

His legs shook but he willed himself not to fall over at the call of his mother, “Junhui!” He stumbled up the stairs with the clothes in hand, muttering a curse as he tripped over the faulty stair.

“Watch your mouth.” His mother retorted. He got up the stairs and reached the top looking dazed, and his mother approached him. “Feel okay? It’s your field trip today, you know. Would be a shame if you missed it.”

“Field trip… yeah, right. I feel fine, just… tired…” He slowly walked into the bathroom, feeling very weary of the situation he was in. He stood in the shower letting the water reach every crevice of his body. He remembers all of this happening, but it happened yesterday. He remembers the field trip and he remembers the museum and the bus ride and getting faded, but how did it end? Like a nightmare he knows too well, all he could remember was seeing his phone and feeling distraught over some news. Like a nightmare he knows too well, he can’t remember what the news was.

The ride to the lot was no better. He sat in his car for a solid minute, wondering what was going on, and he really could not think of another conclusion other than he was living in the same day over again. Junhui is taken back by this, because he can remember every detail of what happened if he really tried. He recalls Seungcheol nearly falling down the stairs and Soonyoung almost breaking the telescope. It hit him then- these were all events that he could prevent if he just did something different. He couldn’t think of why he would need to prevent Seungcheol falling or Soonyoung breaking an ancient artifact, so, maybe this was done on purpose. Maybe there was something else he needed to change.

A long pep-talk with himself that included the fact that he was put back into this day to prevent the outcome had him wondering how much drugs he took last night, but that thought flew by quickly when he remembered he hadn’t actually taken them yet. This is confusing. He got out of the car and headed to the bus.

Taking a deep breath, he strode on with big steps, looking at the seats to see the same people who were boarding yesterday morning at this time. He walked stiffly to his seat, where Seungcheol had already occupied the window seat. Like yesterday.

Jeonghan and Soonyoung directed their attention to Junhui who had his bag in his lap, not noticing the shift in his mood. He tried to relax as much as possible, knowing if he said something about being in the same day they would call him weird and dismiss the conversation. He looked down to his bag when he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

‘You didn’t forget, right?” On cue, like yesterday, Seungcheol asked for the bottle. Junhui just blankly nodded while feeling through his bag and retrieving the bottle, and quietly passing it to Seungcheol. He looked up to see Jeonghan’s fierce eyes meet his own, his hair like dark curtains to frame his face; Soonyoung monitoring from his propped up position on the window, and when Junhui looked to his right, he saw Jihoon turn his head with a smirk on his face. Junhui put his head back and took a deep breath.

Jeonghan sprung to life, his hair mimicking his attitude as it bounced behind him. “Trip of a lifetime. It feels just like falling in love.” Junhui watched in shock disguised with a straight face as Soonyoung shoved him.

“Like you would know what that feels like.” Jeonghan made a nasty face in response and watches as the final of the six came down the aisle. “Speaking of being in love, look who showed up.”

Jeonghan snickered and chimed in. “Cupid himself.” Junhui wanted to throw up.

Joshua proceeded to hit Jeonghan’s forehead and watched as he sat down where Jihoon had been previously, knowing what the next move was going to be.

“Sorry that I know what love feels like, unlike you sad boys.” He grinned at them, and Jihoon threw in a comment while he could (but Junhui knew he was going to anyway, he knew how this conversation would end, for s sake).

‘By ‘love’ he means .” Soonyoung barked out an obnoxiously loud laugh.

“Maybe.” Came the timid reply. Junhui put his head down and closed his eyes, feeling a coming migraine from this whole ordeal.

“Oh,” He heard Soonyoung. “Is this Joshua ing Hong admitting to having a thing with the one and only Choi ing Seungcheol?”

“Could be. You got ‘em?” Junhui didn’t need to lift his head to know that he was talking to Seungcheol, or to know that he was looking in their direction, or that Seungcheol nodded a response. He knew this already. Junhui listened still as mindless chatter resonated in the small area, no one really paying much mind to Junhui who was having a mental breakdown, still desperately trying to waked up from his dream or figure out which god put him back in this day.

“Hey,” Seungcheol nudged the side of Junhui with his knee, and he sat back up to look at Seungcheol who was staring at him oddly. “You good?”

Junhui just sat dumbly for a second, watching him until he realized he needed to answer. “Yeah, I’m just tired, I guess.” He turned back to face forward, not looking at anything in particular. Seungcheol groaned while he stretched.

“Rest up while you can, it’s going to be a long night.” Boy, Junhui knew that was true.

He dropped his head to the right side of the chair as the bus was . His tired eyes focused in on people frantically switching seats and running down the aisle to their friends. He saw their teacher take the seat in the front, and how could he miss the black sweater clad arm with its fist clenching and unclenching, just as it had yesterday.

--

Trying as he could, rest was not easily attainable when you have thoughts swarming your head at a thousand miles per hour. Junhui wanted to know what was going on, but he figured that none of their friends and their moms would know (or even believe him).

The bus halted and all the students rose, Junhui feeling a bit dazed so he stood a second later, feeling sturdy by Seungcheol’s grip on his bicep. He didn’t turn around to meet his eyes. Letting his friends pass in front of him like he had let them do yesterday (technically today, Junhui would beg to differ that there never really was a yesterday), and watched the scene unfold again.

Jihoon pulled the crumpled paper out of his pocket, inspected it for a moment, and proceeded to toss it at the back of Wonwoo’s head, who was standing beside his class’ model Kim Mingyu (you guessed it, like yesterday). He stuttered in his movements, but made no move to turn around.

Junhui heard the snickers from the perpetrator, and figured that if he was going to stand there and experience it all, he might as well say something. “Hey,” Jihoon turned, somehow knowing he was directing the call toward him. “What was that for?” Jeonghan, who had been laughing about the whole thing, suddenly stopped to listen, keeping his body facing forward.

Jihoon just stared at him for a moment. “What?”

“The paper. Why did you throw it at him?” Jihoon quirked an eyebrow at Junhui, maybe now sensing that something was wrong (even though he never participated in the Jeon Wonwoo gossip sesh).

“I don’t know.” He turned around, silently signaling that he did not want to be interrogated about that any longer. They moved up further in the aisle and as Wonwoo was waiting to exit his row, he and Junhui met eyes for a split second. He kept walking.

Outside the bus felt like a relief, the air in that bus becoming too stuffy for his liking and he inhaled the fresh air and feeling it flit over his skin in a pleasant way. They moved forward in the group to the museum, Jihoon kept a larger distance from Junhui than what had been previously established, and he found it interesting that, like the day before, Wonwoo had not claimed his spot in front, but was rather lurking near the middle, seemingly closer to Junhui, but it’s not like he minded.

--

The day went by achingly average, like expected, but with minor differences between the first experience and today. Jihoon hadn’t talked much to him, which he probably figured was from the paper incident, but he didn’t mind. If he was going to relive seeing the ridicule (even if small) thrown at the kid, he might as well stand up for him, which gave him an overwhelming sense of pride.

Due to that, Junhui concluded, he had caught Wonwoo’s eye multiple times, once when they were going to the same relic at the same time, which resulted him Junhui looking down with warm cheeks and Wonwoo turning the other direction, once when they were surrounding one of the speakers at the museum and they locked eyes from across the crowd, producing with them looking back to the speaker immediately, and once when the bright lights above glinted off of Wonwoo’s diamond (Junhui could only assume, Lord knows how many diamonds he’s been near in real life) necklace and reflected broken fragments of rainbow light into Junhui’s face. When Wonwoo looked away that time, Junhui took an extra second to look at the necklace, which he sought out definitely cost more than his tuition.

He stood in the lot with his friends, they were talking about ride situations, which he had been the one to initiate last time. Jihoon, instead of going with Junhui this time around, reclaimed his seat in Jeonghan’s car, and Junhui almost wanted to laugh at how you could only see his head from the front seat.

Junhui waved at Soonyoung to go back with Jeonghan, so it was him riding alone. He took the alone time to go over the events of the day, comparing them to yesterday and trying to find any differences. He found many, but the basis of the day was the same. He knows it’s impossible to see into the future, so he ruled out the option that it was a dream. Really, that left the only other option of the fact that he is living the day over again. He had never experienced something like this, and he didn’t know if he had seen any accounts of this happening online. Maybe it only happened to him. Maybe he was the only one that noticed.

Before he wound up with his car in a ditch, he decided to focus on driving and felt relatively safer when he pulled up to Jeonghan’s apartment building, parking his car further away than his friends but within walking distance.

No one said anything about his slightly late arrival, which, to be honest, he really didn’t notice either. They ate and laughed and talked about the day and whined about assignments, but it was just like everything was normal again. Everything was certainly normal as they all floated away from sober and resumed their intoxicated activities- Soonyoung searching through the cabinets despite a half a pizza in front of Junhui, Joshua and Jeonghan dancing, or trying to, for that matter, Seungcheol doing whatever Junhui wasn’t paying attention to, and Jihoon had gotten over his grudge and was next to Junhui, chattering away with his wide eyes and expanded pupils.

Junhui laid his head back, enjoying the thrum of the music in his chest and his eyes burning from how long he held them open for. Jihoon had not stopped talking, but it doesn’t mean Junhui started listening either. His phone vibrated.

He lazily reached around to grab his phone and read its contents, and if he hadn’t meant it wen he said he felt like throwing up before, he meant it now. What was on the phone was shocking to him especially since he had looked him in the eye only some hours ago, and it felt like he lost a huge connection. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Jihoon stopped rambling to listen to Junhui, and Jeonghan had tuned in as well. “Holy .”

“What, what? Say it.” Jeonghan pushed Junhui to spit it out, and Junhui looked again, trying to decipher between real and fake.

“Jeon Wonwoo is dead.” Even the words coming from his mouth felt unreal, and he wanted to take them back and wanted it all to be a joke, or for somewhere in this article for it to say it was a threat, or a fake. “He’s ing dead.”

“Jeon Wonwoo? Dead?” Jihoon inquired.

“Yes, dead! He’s dead. Oh my god, holy .”

The room spun with every second that passed. He went down further in the article, waiting to read the line that it was not true, and only an attempt to get his family more money. That seemed harsh, but right now anything is better than facing the fact that Jeon Wonwoo is dead. He read through the times again, Jeonghan and Jihoon both yelling at him to tell him more but he was too focused on the piece of news. He read the time of death, 11:06 PM. The current time, 11:59.

Seeing nothing that told him it was all a scam, he got frustrated and scared, worried that the fact that he hadn’t done more than stand up for him on the bus made him do this, angry that he couldn’t just talk him down and sad that this was the reality. The reality was that Jeon Wonwoo was dead. He stood up frantically, about to throw his phone against the wall, but he stilled, all the anger fled from him instantly, and he gasped in a big breath that his lung desperately needed. He jolted, and was met with sudden darkness.

A cold sweat. Heavy breaths and frantic eyes, desperately trying to grasp on anything, only hitting the sheets and the walls beside him with a muffled “Ouch”.

He stilled instantly once he had sprung up from his lying position. His stomach turned. “No, no, no…” He scrambled to find his phone. He turned it on, squinting at the bright light but getting used to it as the dread set in.

Friday, April 22.

“! Why?! Why?” He nearly threw his phone against the wall, putting his face into the pillow and screaming, kicking his feet like a child who can’t get his way.

Technically, though, he really can’t get his way. He’s been stuck in this day twice- three times now- and he doesn’t know then this constant loop will end. He doesn’t know what he should do right now, stay in bed, miss the field trip, and have the day start over again the next morning? Should he research time loop? Is a magical being ing with him just for the hell of it?

Junhui does not have any answers and right now was not the time to ponder what he should do. He sat up, turned his light on and picked up his clothes after he shoved that goddamned pill bottle in his backpack and unplugged his phone. Running up the stairs and tripping over the step, yet again, said a rushed hello to his mother and jumped in the shower.

He figured he could kill two birds with one stone, so while he was showering, he took it upon himself to research what was going on (trying his very best not to get his phone wet).

He stared at the blank Google page, trying to think of something to type without feeling ashamed that he’s looking this up or a weirdo, and eventually he settled on typing ‘time loop’ and he clicked on the first link which was hosted by a website on magical beings and objects.

He couldn’t bring himself to read the whole thing, so he skipped a few lines when his attention was drawn to the subtitle ‘Living in the Same Day’.

His eyes kept going out of focus, probably primarily due to the fact he had literally just woken up, but he caught the gist of it. He caught that one can exist in a time loop if the desired out some of the day was not met.

‘Great’, Junhui thinks, ‘All I have to change is how the day ended and I can be ing free.’ Except…

‘.’

Junhui cannot remember how the day ended. Or the day before that. All he can remember was him staring at his phone and being so shocked and scared at the piece of news. All he can remember is literally every ing thing except the end of the night. He slams his fist against the tile, quietly, so not to disturb his mother, and tosses his phone out on the bath rug. He sighs. He will try everything in his power to get out of this loop.

Putting his clothes on, (which was the same as before, you would think he would switch it up, but no) he stalked out of the bathroom and bid his mother good bye, heading to his car after triple checking that he did not forget anything and he had the pills with him.

Maybe that was it. Maybe whoever did this to him didn’t want him getting high, maybe they wanted Junhui to see there were better things to life than getting high with his friends on a Friday night. That option seemed feasible, but he quickly ruled that out because he assumed the outcome was the news that he couldn’t remember for the life of him. Seriously, how important could it have been to leave his heart racing in anxiety and keep him up at night? He could only find out.

He pulled into the lot (which he was tired of looking at by now) and walked on to the bus, hearing the same conversations going on as if the information was never told- and it really hadn’t been, yet. Keeping his eyes forward, but noticing that Wonwoo was not in his seat yet, he headed to the back, everything sickly familiar to him by now.

Taking his usual seat next to Seungcheol, he greeted them and handed over the bottle without him having to say anything first. He accepted it gratefully.

He saw Jihoon do his signature smirk and head turn, and he figured he couldn’t hold a grudge that he didn’t know existed. He relaxed back in his chair and closed his eyes, listening to that same rendition of Jeonghan talking about how getting high feels like falling in love, Joshua coming, his saying he likes Seungcheol’s or something like that, everything he had heard before. The bus started, and he felt some sort of weight lift off of his chest. Maybe because he had heard this conversation too many times before already. As usual, Jeon Wonwoo had his seat next to Kim Mingyu, but he was not balling his fists this time.

The bus pulled to a stop when the ride was over, the students stretching and groaning, and instead of letting Jihoon go in front of him, he took that place, trying to change the ways of what was going to come out of Jihoon throwing the paper. He saw Wonwoo stand, never turning to look behind him, and he heard the unmistakable sound of paper crunching. Junhui waited a second more before he turned, catching the piece of paper that was en route to Wonwoo’s head. Jihoon stared at him for a moment, unreadable expression, but most likely blown away by the fact that Junhui caught it and that he missed his intended target.

“You missed.” Junhui stated. He didn’t throw it back.

He caught eyes quickly with Wonwoo, and he had a much different aura about him than he had yesterday, or the day before. He seemed lighter, and the look he gave Junhui was not so weighed down with emotions like it had been in the museum. He threw the paper away at the front of the bus.

The air enveloped him and it felt nice, he was getting suffocated in that bus and it was getting quite tiring to hear the same ing conversations that people had already had. Of course, Junhui was the only one that knew that.

He was delighted to finally put his legs to use, and he was also delighted to see that Wonwoo was walking even closer to him than yesterday.

--

Same , different day. Or, same , same day. Soonyoung still almost broke the telescope, Seungcheol still almost fell down the stairs, Jihoon still got mistaken for a teenager, but there was a big difference. Wonwoo.

Junhui had noticed Wonwoo took a somewhat liking to the other boy, and all he had done was save him from getting hit with a paper ball. Whenever Junhui turned, Wonwoo was in some proximity of him, and it didn’t just make him feel giddy, he felt safe. Did Wonwoo have anything to do with this? Stupid question Junhui, you’re just changing the outcome of each day.

Walking into the gallery, Wonwoo had gone in front of Junhui but was walking beside nobody, and it seemed nobody chose to follow Junhui as well. He didn’t make any moves, though.

Something had fallen out of Wonwoo’s pocket, a piece of paper, a yellow one, that was just alike the one Junhui had gotten- the ticket to enter. He picked it up from the ground (which he couldn’t help but notice was made with shining marble) and ran over to Wonwoo, and timidly tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you dropped this.”

It seemed as though he had not expected the encounter, or he had not expected Junhui to say anything, so he stood there for about three seconds, just making eye contact. He smiled shyly and took the ticket, Junhui taking the opportunity to study the karats on his finger, he muttered a small, “Thanks.” He turned.

Junhui couldn’t help but notice the absence of his diamond necklace.

--

The car park was bustling with students eager to get home and most likely eat or go to bed, and Junhui couldn’t blame them. He was so ready to pass out, then and there. He didn’t bother to assess the driving situation, so he hopped in his car and watched and Seungcheol sided with Joshua, and the other three stuck together. Another lonely ride for Junhui.

Not many hardcore thoughts passed into his brain, he was just focused on the exact same outfit that he had worn, minus the necklace. Did he forget it that morning, or had something changed and he had decided against wearing it? He tried to stay in the lane as these thoughts went by.

He arrived to Jeonghan’s and was greeted by said owner, throwing something in about coming alone.

“No one wanted to ride with me so, whatever.”

“You could have asked one of the to ride with out.” Jeonghan argued.

Junhui shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He plopped down on the couch next to Jihoon who was scrolling through Instagram and Joshua who looked like he was asleep with his neck uncomfortably craned. He breathed in deeply, the scent of pizza filling his nose as he watched the boxes being placed in front of him. Joshua shot up instantly at that, and they all indulged before the fun part of the night.

Correction: fun part of the night for Junhui’s friends. This time, Junhui had turned down the offer to get high.

Turns out, watching your friends get high without you is not fun at all, but he has experienced it twice already, so it can’t be that much different this time around. He doesn’t know how many hours it has been since he just watched all his friends start doing stupid but he didn’t care, silently thinking to himself anything that gets him out of this loop fast enough.

He stood to go to the bathroom, leaving his friends to fend for their intoxicated self. He stood under the bright lights, marveling in how good he looks in front of the white tiles and his skin being over exposed by the lights surrounding the mirror. Of course Jeonghan would buy a place like this.

He splashed his face with water trying to keep himself awake when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket after he dried his hands, and nearly dropped his phone when he saw the headline text on his screen. Jeon Wonwoo was dead. “What the … No, no. I just… I just ing talked to him…”

He scrolled through the article, feeling his stomach tighten uncomfortably at the word suicide, he was found dead at 11:06 PM. His hands started shaking and he wanted to run out the door and scream and throw and, just cry, maybe. Cry because he wanted to have some kind of chance with Wonwoo. He hated being sober this time around, he could feel all of the emotions so much harder and it made his chest concave and he hated that feeling. He reached for the doorknob to scream to his friends about this news, he swung the door open and was met with total darkness. He felt like he was falling, before sitting up straight.

A cold sweat. Heavy breaths and frantic eyes, desperately trying to grasp on anything, only hitting the sheets and the walls beside him with a muffled “Ouch”.

He sat there for a second, catching his breath and face contorting in anger and disbelief when he realized exactly what was going on. He sighed deeply and put his face in his hands, carding his fingers through his hair in quickly dissipating anger that was being replaced with tiredness, and this time he thought he should just say it all and not even show up. He threw himself back down on the blankets. Seriously, what is going on? Obviously it’s that one thing that he needs to change, and it’s a little problem that he can’t remember what it is. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. Maybe if he suffocated himself it would end.

He threw the sheets off himself, not even bothering to look at the messages as he picked his phone up, instead looking at the time and date.

Friday, April 22.

He felt so much anger course through his body in that one moment he swore he was going to combust, but he needed to keep his composure, he needed to remember that this was just a normal day to his friends. A normal day, that he had gone through four times now.

He proceeded to grab his clothes and make his way upstairs anyway, this time carefully avoiding the step he always trips on. Making it to the bathroom, he let the sleepiness wash away in the drain, along with another complaint that this was starting to happen too often.

It was like a bad taste in his mouth by now. He’s gotten used to it, but why? Why is this still happening? He knows every step of the day by now and he knows what someone will say, what someone will do, he knows everything. It’s like he has eyes in the back of his head, or some freaky like that. Adding to his troubles, the problem here once again showed itself as he did not know what to fix if he could not remember it. Any clue would be great, but it seems that every day it shocks him over and over again. Junhui wished he could freeze time and take in as much of the moment as he could.

He had only been drawn out of his trance once he arrived at the car lot, that big dumb blue coach bus waiting for him, like it was the one making him go through this. He cursed at the bus before hopping out and climbing on.

Junhui could say it again and again, but this morning as he boarded the bus, the usual conversations of things that happened the night before went on, and he felt like he was getting an ear sore just from hearing it again. We get it Seokmin, your crush texted you.

He watched as his friends faces lit up at the sight of him, and he braced himself to hear the usual rambling of them. He didn’t let Seungcheol ask before he reached into his bag and withdrew the bottle. He hadn’t said a word after that, letting the usual conversation take its course.

After suffering silently through the script he let his head fall to the side like he had done before, and watched down the aisle for people coming and going. He watched as Wonwoo no longer squeezed his fists together in anxiety.

--

Junhui stretched although he felt no need to, trying to make time pass and they all filed out of the bus. He quickly stepped in front of Joshua when he had the chance, leaving Jihoon behind him. He waited for the sign that the paper was about to rush forward, and took a last minute, rash decision, and slipped in the row behind Wonwoo, blocking him from the aim completely, letting the paper hit the back of his own head instead.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” He spoke lowly, surely knowing that if his friends heard him talk to Wonwoo casually they would certainly ask what’s up- not like they wouldn’t ask after this anyway. Wonwoo looked toward him with eyes, not expecting the sudden confrontation. He raised his eyebrow expectantly at him, waiting for Junhui to speak. “I saw your phone case earlier and it sparked my interest.” Wonwoo shyly looked down at his overturned phone in his hand, the phone case a black background with green cartoon eyeballs and green Japanese writing dropping from the top, outlines of buildings on the bottom with street signs in Japanese and a pink cat dashing across the rooves. “I am also into The Weeknd. I thought I would never find another one.” He smiled shyly at him, and his heart leaped as he watched Wonwoo grin back.

He looked down, bashful. Let’s wait to get outside to talk.” He also spoke in a similar tone, and Junhui didn’t care at this point if his friends thought he was being weird, just being this close to Wonwoo and having him look at him sent so many emotions straight to his heart.

He stood back and let Wonwoo and Mingyu go, who he had still sat next to. Upon exiting the bus, he noticed Wonwoo stuck close to him, and they talked like they were old friends. Junhui found it so endearing how the wind messed up his hair just perfectly, and he didn’t even notice when they entered the museum, the two were talking so casually about music and more for the whole walk in.

“His best album-”

“Kiss Land,” Wonwoo interrupted.

“Exactly! I’ve been saying this for so long, everyone is so bandwagon lately because of Starboy and only know Starboy and I Feel It Coming. It’s so annoying.” Junhui smiled over at Wonwoo, and in that moment, they just seemed to click.

“The few that I know who listen to him think Starboy is the best, but, they are so wrong. I’ve been saying it for ages. Kiss Land over everything.” Wonwoo laughed, and Junhui swore he melted then and there. Wonwoo’s cheekbones were so prominent under this lighting, his circular glasses reflecting off the lights in the ceiling, and he realized they needed to part and go with their assigned groups.

“, I have to go with them now.” Junhui may or may not have tried his best to sound dejected. Wonwoo’s face fell slightly, but he met his eyes.

“See you after this?” Junhui’s heart swelled in his chest, and he nodded, and dismissed himself. He felt like he was floating.

He noticed Jihoon giving him a weird look. “What was that?” If anyone disliked Wonwoo the most out of his friends, it was Jihoon.

“Just talking.” He casually replied. He walked to meet Joshua and Seungcheol who were way ahead, and ran away from any more pestering questions. He stayed close to the couple who didn’t seem to mind who he was talking to, and Jihoon regained that salty attitude from a day ago. He never got to the bottom of it, that is, Jihoon disliking for Wonwoo. All Junhui knows is it had something to do with him disliking rich people in general, and Wonwoo definitely did not fall short of the cut. Still, stupid reason to hate someone who was so quiet.

The rest of the tour passed with as much interest and Junhui could muster for someone who had seen this four times now. He was just anticipating the ride back. Climbing back on the bus, he was slightly saddened to see Wonwoo already seated back next to Mingyu, but gave him a small smile anyway, which Wonwoo reciprocated. He fled to his original seat and listened to Soonyoung whine and cry about how he almost got thrown out for nearly breaking the telescope, which was countered by Seungcheol’s argument of that not being as bad as almost falling down the stairs. Jihoon stayed quiet, but he knew if he wasn’t in an attitude, he would have thrown in his mishap from earlier, also.

The ride passed quickly to his liking, and unlike day one where he was excited just to get faded, he found himself excited for another reason. Would he and Wonwoo talk more when they got out? Would he get his number? Would something happen? He focused on the vibrations of the bus and tuned out everyone, closing his tired eyes to make it go by faster.

He stood outside for a moment, inhaling the cool air to cleanse his lungs from the bus and he looked around eagerly. He spotted Wonwoo just stepping out, followed by Joshua who was talking to Jeonghan behind him. He and Wonwoo caught glances, and at that moment Joshua had nodded his head for him to follow them to their group by the cars. He held up his hand in gesture of ‘give me a minute’. Joshua just nodded.

Junhui walked toward Wonwoo, and he felt more jittery now than before, he can’t put a finger on why, though. Wonwoo gave a shy smile as they were within speaking distance, and Junhui reflected it. They started at each other for a moment, the air becoming a little tense. As Wonwoo opened his mouth, he was interrupted by the five friends behind Junhui.

“Junhui!” He turned around, ready to hit whoever interrupted this moment. “We’re leaving, let us know when we’re coming!” He just nodded and turned back to Wonwoo, who was still watching the group behind him. He broke eye contact with them and looked at Junhui.

“I take it you have plans?” His voice resonated deep in Junhui’s chest, and that was all it took for him to forget about those plans. He shook his head. He turned back to look at the cars now driving away.

“Nah, I don’t need to get high tonight.” He turned back to meet Wonwoo’s eyes, and gave a sly smirk at that, and Wonwoo looked down for a second, before ruffling his own hair with a hand that was half covered by his sweatshirt. Junhui eyes the rings that peeked out from the cuff.

“Well, if that’s the case then, would you like to come to my house? It will be empty for a few hours.” His look didn’t suggest anything other than catching up with each other as if they have been separated for many years. His gaze was soft and Junhui felt secure, like he knew he wasn’t suggesting more than just to come for a while.

“How did you get here?” He asked, wanting to know if he had a car and would follow him or, whatever the situation be.

Wonwoo pointed behind him without looking, “Mingyu.”

Said boy was standing by his car, rather, resting against the hood waiting for Wonwoo so he could take him back. Junhui nodded. “We can go in my car.” Wonwoo nodded slowly and retreated to tell Mingyu, and Junhui used this time to text his friends in their group chat: “Won’t be able to make it tonight. Have fun w/o me.”

He opened his driver’s side door as Wonwoo opened the opposite and quiet music filling the air (all of it from Kiss Land, his best album of course) as Junhui followed the directions to Wonwoo’s home.

His breath nearly caught in his throat as he looked up at the grand house that stood in front of him. A modern exterior with white brick and black roofing, big glass windows with a peek inside, and Junhui forgot he was actually going to see the inside. The front walkway was absolutely lavish itself, surrounded by the semi-circle driveway made out of stone and got nervous at the Mercedes parked in the driveway. He turned off the car and they both exited, and Junhui couldn’t keep his eyes off his house, it was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Wonwoo grabbed his arm gently, his heart clenched at the action. “Come on, you’re going to hurt your neck if you keep looking up.” He threw jokingly at Junhui, who just dumbly nodded and followed him inside.

If Junhui was choking at the exterior, he was going under cardiac arrest at the interior. A large ceiling welcomed him in the foyer made of mismatched marble tiles and a hanging chandelier right above his head. Directly in front of him was a large window with a door leading to an outside area that looked over the city (which Junhui was baffled by, he didn’t even know they were that close to the city) and two spiral staircases hugging the interior of the room. Everything was so white, and shiny, and impressive that Junhui felt like he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t even be able to think about living this lavish.

He heard Wonwoo chuckle lightly behind him, and he assumed he was too busy gawking at the foyer to pay attention. Wonwoo stepped in front of him and nodded his head in action to follow. “Come, we’ll go in the kitchen.” Junhui walked through the foyer with just as much awe as the first few second and went under one of the staircases, entering a hallway that opened up to an equally lavish kitchen. He followed Wonwoo’s instruction which was to sit at the bar and Wonwoo grabbed two cans of some expensive looking soda- if that even existed, Junhui couldn’t care less- and sat next to him.

“A little amazed, are we?” Wonwoo laughed at him, who was still scanning the kitchen interior, cabinetry made of a dark woof which contrasted nicely against the white walls and the LED lights that peeked out from their hidden spots under the counters and around appliances. He felt a little embarrassed at this, he didn’t want to seem like someone who was so impressed by what money could do, but , he really was.

“Sorry, I’m just…” He looked down at the white marble counters, and back at Wonwoo. “Not used to it.”

Wonwoo swiveled in his chair to face Junhui. “It’s okay. Not many people are.”

“You live here alone?” Wonwoo shook his head, not breaking eye contact.

“My parents also. Though, they go out of town to do special operations every now and then, and it only leaves me and the cleaning service who show up once a week and the cat. So, a little company is always welcome.” He had a sad look in his eyes, and Junhui felt so compelled to know more about him than what he already knows.

“Can I ask something?” Wonwoo nodded, a curious look replaced the forlorn one. “I knew a lot of people in China, when I lived there, who, I don’t know… took any chance they could to let people know how much money they have, and what they do with it. I just want to understand why you don’t.” Junhui spoke softly so as to not offend Wonwoo, that’s really the last thing he wanted.

“Well, Junhui. I feel like, for those people, they really used the money for themselves, and they put their money to their body and their lifestyle, if that makes sense.” Junhui nodded. “I was not born rich. My parent’s business had taken off only a few 7 years after I was born, and I didn’t have much time to just live like a kid should. When I came to high school and university, everyone knew who I was, I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be seen as the kid who showed off how much money he has with a new pair of shoes every week.” He laughed lightly at that. “I didn’t- and still don’t- want to be someone who flaunts their money. It’s not how someone should live.” He paused for a second, a small smile cracking through. “Hypocritical, of me living in this house saying that and showing up to class in designer brands, but it’s how my parents treat me, not how I treat myself. If that makes sense.”

Junhui listened intently, and it made sense now. Wonwoo hopped off the stool and placed his drink on the counter, held out his hand for Junhui’s own. Junhui put his hand in Wonwoo’s palm and melted at the touch, and was pulled up to follow him.

They walked through more hallways of high ceilings and chandeliers until they reached the family room- Junhui could only assume. There were probably many rooms in this house. It really was incredible, a massive amount of floor space with a dip in the center where a circular couch was nestled, to the further left another staircase that led to the upper floor, and large floor to ceiling windows laid at the very end. They walked over and stood there, watching the night time blanket the city and the piercing yellow lights of the buildings shine through. Beneath it was a pool with purple and blue color shifting lights inside.

“Obviously, this is all too much for three people, never mind one. I didn’t want people to know this is how I lived, obviously very much more than the average student. I didn’t want friends who wanted to be friends with money, not me.”

It made sense to Junhui, of course he would want a real friend and not someone who leeches off of him. He wonders if it has ever happened to him. So he asks: “Has it happened?”

Wonwoo nodded somberly. “Things that money can do.” He laughed, and Junhui found himself so enticed by that sound. He reached down and grabbed Junhui’s hand suddenly, holding it low but looking over all the imperfections on his skin, bruises that he can’t remember what caused them and scars from a history of aggression that has passed. “You seem different though. I can tell you aren’t like your friends.”

“What do you mean?” Junhui was looking at him, who was still looking at his hand.

“They don’t like me; I know how they look at me. Like I’m another stickler for money. It’s okay though. As long as you understand me.” He looked up at Junhui now, bringing his own hand up and kissing his knuckles gingerly, he nodded to follow again, Junhui with a heated face.

They walked past the kitchen, Junhui feeling guilty that he left his drink there, and they walked back into the foyer. “Unfortunately, though it was short, the owners will be returning soon. Can I have your number, though? It will be hard to contact you if I don’t know that.” Junhui made no hesitations as he gave Wonwoo his number, and with a last goodnight he sent him out the door, and Junhui mentally said screw Jeonghan’s and screw getting high, this was way better.

--

Jolted awake by the buzz on his night stand, he opened his eyes and say the plain wood paneled walls of his room. He immediately jumped up, feeling fear course through him for more than one reason. He checked his phone quickly. He breathed hard with a growing smile on his face, and if he didn’t care that it was 7:30 or that he would wake his mother he would scream. He wriggled around in his sheets happily as he looked at his screen to make sure it was true.

Saturday, April 23.

He threw his head back and sighed happily. He remembered. After he left, he remembers seeing the time 12:00 hit the clock last night when he couldn’t sleep and everything came back to him. The thing that he had to change. Jeon Wonwoo had died. He needed to fix that so he could finally go on. So he could finally tell him how he feels. He still is 90% sure he was the only one experiencing the phenomenon. But that one key event, that was what he needed, and he felt ing ecstatic that he figured it out. He looked at his texts. It was Wonwoo.

‘Good morning, sorry if I woke you. I assume you got home late, had a busy night.’

He didn’t know if Wonwoo was referring to going back to his friends or what, but he replied anyway. ‘I feel great. Finally figured out something that could have come in handy a few days ago.’ He bit his lip and smiled as he watched the ellipses bubble in the corner to indicate him typing.

‘Thank God you finally came to your senses. I was getting tired of dying.’