Gone

The apron with the unicorn print no longer hung on the hook in the kitchen. The socks that would end up in random drawers in the closet room, because Yixing didn’t care to follow the sock drawer’s principle, were no longer there. The picture frames, the flower books, the purple hoodie that Yixing always left out hanging on the terrace after a work-out session, and everything else had been taken away little by little. Nothing remained. Yixing had moved out. Junmyeon had been there to witness how Yixing and Chanyeol had packed every single thing and then took the boxes with them. During those two days, Yixing hadn’t even spared a glance at him, not even when Junmyeon said hi and goodbye to them. The only things that Yixing had left behind were his apartment card key and everything Junmyeon had gifted him. As every empty spot in the house had become visible, Junmyeon realized that their home, no, his house lost that homey touch Yixing had brought. Instead, every room looked as if it belonged to a page in a home accessory or furniture catalog. Although that was how Junmyeon’s house had always been in the past, it was only now he thought he didn’t like it.

Junmyeon hadn’t been able to do much after the break-up, only stay at home and feel hopeless, heartbroken and irreparable sadness. His final conversations with Yixing replayed on his mind like a broken record while he held onto that honeysuckle brooch, intensifying those emotions.

This was the first time Junmyeon had allowed himself to fall in love, this was the first time someone had broken his heart, but it was because of his own damn choices. Knowing himself, Junmyeon ought to have expected he would have one way or another ruined it sooner or late. It turned out to be sooner and in the most horrible way. The odds have never been in his favor, and he knew why that was. But Yixing had brought Junmyeon a chance of solace and blissful ignorance to rejoice himself at, a chance of being able to feel again. Ironically, now that Yixing was gone, the loss made him feel much worse than what it would have done in the past. He found himself unable to stop crying at times. He missed the man he loved with such fervor and zeal that he couldn’t understand how one can love so much. Would it always be like this? Perhaps this was finally his punishment for all his sins. This devoid emptiness might accompany him for the rest of life. But he didn’t want to carry any more of it, of that sadness, guilt, self-hatred and all those other feelings within him. What he once knew how to conceal no longer worked, and his emotions were only interfering with his life.

Junmyeon hadn’t returned to work because he wouldn’t be able to concentrate fully, and that would be no help for the company. He didn’t leave to go anywhere because he knew his Emotion Watch would only be shining yellow, the color still didn’t fade. Junmyeon also didn’t tell his parents the truth about his and Yixing’s break up, that would go on the pile of other shameless secrets his parents couldn’t know due to his cowardice. Of course, his mom and dad were worried about him, even offered to stay and spend the holidays with him. But Junmyeon didn’t want them around. He deserved to be suffering alone. And he didn’t want them to see what was left of him. Eventually, after much convincing excuses and reasons why coping with a broken heart alone was better for him, his parents decided to go the annual family ski trip. That gave Junmyeon some time to gather himself up and pick up the pieces of his old self that he could find before he met with his parents again.

The only ones Junmyeon did allow to see him were Yifan and Tao. But only because of Tao and his magic keys that opened everything. Junmyeon had told the staff downstairs to deny entrance to anyone. And the reason for that was precisely due to how his two friends had been astonished when they saw him, all sad and miserable. There wasn’t much they could do to change that, however, except maybe force him to eat some food (Junmyeon had lost most of his appetite) or tidy his room. After that spontaneous visit, Junmyeon asked them to leave him alone. He didn’t want eyes to see the decay of who he had once had been and the anguish he was trapped at. Or hear any more excuses of how it hadn’t been his fault or this and that when he knew damn well, he deserved how everything ended with Yixing.

Eventually, he would have to heal, right? And everything would be put aside, not forgotten because Junmyeon didn’t think he’ll ever forget it. Coping with it was more realistic. Then, he’d go back to work, continue earning profit to the company, and do whatever Minseok considered would be the best choice to continue with his campaign. Although Junmyeon had told Minseok they had broken up, he refused Minseok’s idea to announce it now. He didn’t trust he could manage to say the news without bursting out crying in front of everyone. Maybe that had been a smart strategy to earn compassion, but Junmyeon hated the idea of taking advantage of the situation. Only when he regained his old character and strength, he’ll announce it. And if the people were able to look past his inability to have a life partner, then he might still have a chance to become their Leader, and he’d do his best job. Junmyeon hated that last idea. Based on all the dirt that had been dug up, his view on the System and why it was the core of society had wholly been undermined. Perhaps the program itself was ‘flawless,’ but some of the defenders of it were vile, himself included. Still, Junmyeon had a duty with the nation, with his family who trusted he would honor the family name, just like he had always been doing.

Tonight, he wouldn’t heal, though. It was Christmas eve, and he sat in the darkness of his living room. He rejected the idea of spending it with the Huang’s and Wu’s or any other party he had been invited to. Although he owed it to Tao’s parents for leaving their anniversary party without notice, he would have to repay it another time. Instead, Junmyeon had spent Christmas eve eating some of the food Taeyong had brought him earlier in the evening. That had been strange. Junmyeon hadn’t even called and ordered it from him, and the assistant had always hated when Junmyeon had inconsiderably asked him to do something during any holiday. But perhaps Taeyong had strangely missed that Junmyeon hadn’t contacted him for days. Maybe Taeyong had been worried. It was an act of kindness Junmyeon didn’t deserve. Just like Yixing’s last one.

In front of him was a present Junmyeon had found hidden in the drawers in his closet. He might be sad, but that didn’t mean he liked sleeping in the same worn out clothes. The present was addressed to: ‘My love.’ Six letters, two words that no longer brought him any of the elation they used to cause to his ears. Had Yixing intentionally left it behind for him? Or had he completely forgotten about it amid his rage? Questions he’ll never get answers to. After finding it, Junmyeon had decided to wait until Christmas to unfold it. But he couldn’t wait longer than after seeing the clock ticking midnight.

More tears fell desperately down his cheeks as he held the last memento of Yixing’s love, the last one ever. The two ears and antlers sticking out the hat made it look tacky, most definitely not something he would have willingly worn in public in the past. It was his most valuable possession now. He kept crying while holding near his chest the only reminder of Yixing’s love for him, of what used to be his love.

Yixing continued looking through the boxes. He knew he had packed the picture frame in one of the boxes that were in his temporary room, the other boxes were downstairs in Chanyeol’s and Kyungsoo’s storage room. After moving in with his friends, Yixing had decided to only keep his clothes and other personal belongings. The old furniture that used to be in his initial room at Junmyeon’s house had been thrown away. Yixing wouldn’t need them anymore, and this living situation with his friends wouldn’t last forever, Dongwon would get back his room next month.

At last, he found the picture frame. It was the only thing he needed before making his way out with Chanyeol, Kyungsoo and their children.

Christmas eve was in a few days. Yixing hadn’t gone back to work yet because there was something he needed to do before moving on from all this. He knew that hosting a funeral didn’t feel right without his parents here, and it was nine years later, so that didn’t seem very suitable. But he had gotten another idea on how to say goodbye to Qian, not to let go of her memory, but the idea that she would come back along with the anger and fury he felt over the people and circumstances that caused her death.

Yixing had kept his promise and didn’t told anyone what he knew, although he would have loved to wake up these foolish people from the lie they were living in. Instead, his explanation to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had been that Qian’s death was due to medical malpractice involving the national healthcare. Passing the blame to doctors and clinics funded by the government seemed to have worked, and his friends had believed why it had been kept a secret from Yixing and his family. Lawsuits and whatnot were never good publicity. Although Yixing felt slightly guilty for lying, he knew that telling his friends all the horrible things he knew wouldn’t do much good, only bring them paranoia due to carry such a burden. Yixing’s parents, on the other hand, they would hear the whole truth when they saw each other.

A while later Yixing and his companions arrived at the place. It was the early afternoon. Today wasn’t snowing, but the sky was clouded and only made the scenery more white and softer. Usually, people would have been strolling or having a picnic in this part of the park. Nobody enjoyed the cold and harsh winter, though, which allowed them to have some privacy.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had helped him organize and carry everything earlier in the day. Even after returning from having eaten lunch and changed into black clothes at home, the place looked like when they had left it. They stood underneath a willow tree near the frozen riverbank. The branches were covered in snow and coated in frost, making the drooping lines an illusion to the eyes of a frozen waterfall. And on a half circle was gathered a sea of purple cyclamens, their vibrant color contrasting with the pure white snow. Sadness and resignation. The combination of the willow tree and cyclamen’s symbolism would be something Qian would have appreciated.

Yixing put his sister’s picture frame on the stool amid the cyclamens. He set a lavender scented candle next to it and lightened it. For a while he and the others quietly watched the flames burn. His most treasured memories with Qian replayed on his head.

Then, a tiny hand tucked in a mitten clasped his own. Yixing looked down to see Sohee staring at him.

“She was pretty. Auntie was really pretty,” Sohee said.

Yixing found himself smiling. Sohee, who unlike Dongwon had been aware of his suffering, had almost never left his side once Yixing came out of Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s room. She had tried his best to make him smile or laugh at what she thought would make him happy, like watching a movie, eating something, or reading this. Yixing had welcomed the child’s efforts. It had distracted him from the turmoil of thoughts that had spun in his mind these past days.

“She used to say she didn’t believe so, but I agree, Sohee. She was really pretty.”

“What are those flowers called, Uncle Xing?” she asked.

“Cyclamens.”

“Why did you pick them?”

Cyclamens were symbolic of resignation, but they could also mean goodbye. The kind of flower one gave to a friend that was moving away. But because they were poisonous, their meaning could also be linked to death. They represent that all good things will eventually come to an end, suitable to signify departure during funerals. Yixing wanted to say goodbye to Qian. His sister wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore, but this was his way of doing that. Resignation. This could also be goodbye to all those other unpleasant emotions and thirst for revenge that had come after finding out why she died. He didn’t want to think back on Qian and only remember the despair and anger, but he wanted to keep alive her warmth and joy. An infectious rage had threatened to sicken his heart and holding grudges would only taint that image. Qian, wherever she was, would like for him to remember her with fondness. And that was what Yixing would do from now on. While he saw the breathtaking picturesque scenery, his sister contiguous smile, he felt those bad feelings starting to dissipate. The sorrow would accompany him a while longer, but even that eventually would be gone.

“Because they mean goodbye.”

“And we’re here to say goodbye to auntie, right?”

“Yes.”

Sohee bowed his head towards Qian’s frame and said, “Goodbye auntie. Uncle Xing will miss you.”

Kyungsoo, who was holding Dongwon, then asked to say a few words. Yixing nodded. Then came Chanyeol. All the caring words his friends remembered about her warmed Yixing’s heart and caused more tears to fall. When it was time for him to say something all Yixing could find to say was:

“I’ll carry you in my heart always, Qian. Wherever you are, always know your little brother loves you.”

Maybe it wasn’t the long eulogy one might have expected from the brother. But this wasn’t a funeral. And even if he didn’t say all these beautiful things to honor Qian in front of a large audience, Yixing knew that all the feelings he would have wanted to convey with words would always be with him in his heart.

Yixing felt Kyungsoo and Chanyeol each put a hand on his shoulder. He felt Sohee hugging him sideways. Yixing sniffed before saying, “Goodbye, Qian.”

Yixing had spent Christmas surrounded by his friends and their families just like he had been doing for the past years. Despite his sorrow, he could find some momentary joy during the holiday reunions. A new year would begin the day after tomorrow, which meant his own gathering with his parents would be in a few weeks. In the meantime, Yixing was finally back at the flower shop. He was making sure to thoroughly teach Sooyoung the management and other relevant information she’ll need when she’d be on her own. Yixing’s only wish was for her to keep the shop’s name. But working also helped him put aside unwanted thoughts. He believed it would be much easier to forget everything once he left.

This morning, Yixing was in the middle of making a flower arrangement that would be on display later. He had thought he had let go of his anger but seeing that person standing in front of his working table threatened to revive it, letting him know that the rage still lingered there. Yixing ignored the unwelcome guest and focused on his task at hand.

“Back to work already?” Tao asked after minutes of silence.

Yixing nodded, not even looking up. He continued as if Tao’s presence didn’t bother him. Was Tao here because of Junmyeon? Anything that reminded Yixing of him only spoiled his mood, which is why he had gotten rid of anything that could trigger those memories. But the memories remained there, and so did the feelings. He hated that.

“I need to talk to you, Yixing,” Tao said and looked around the shop. Besides today’s workers, there were also a few early customers. “Preferably alone.”

What Tao had to say after the way he had blatantly taken Yixing for a fool, Yixing didn’t want to hear. He had enough with liars in his life. However, he also knew that Tao wouldn’t leave him alone until he heard him. It would be displeasure for Yixing to have Tao around any longer. With that in mind, he put aside his tools and walked to his office, holding the door open for Tao. They entered and made themselves comfortable on the chairs near the desk. He hated how the office still reminded him of those times Junmyeon used to bring him lunch and they ate together.

“Well? Talk, I don’t have all day,” Yixing said, not bothering to mask his annoyance and rudeness. These people didn’t deserve any of his kindness, or respect for that matter.

“First of all, I want to apologize for lying to you the way I did… That was awful. I shouldn’t have tricked you into believing your sister was alive. It was very inconsiderate.”

Yixing scoffed, “Look, if all you want to do is clean your conscience, then you should know your apology means nothing to me. Like I told Junmyeon, you can say sorry a million times, but I will never forgive this.”

Unlike how Junmyeon had reacted, Tao didn’t appear affected by that. Instead, he half-smiled at Yixing’s words. “I wasn’t expecting your forgiveness. But I’ve been thinking, and I just wanted you to know that I deeply regret my actions. If I could go back to that moment and make things right… I would.”

Yixing let out a laugh. “And what exactly would you have made right?”

“Letting Junmyeon take the fall.”

As expected, this meeting was Junmyeon’s doing. “To me, you’re as equally guilty as him. I only despise you a little less for lying. Just tell Junmyeon I will never change my mind and he should-”

“I did it,” Tao interrupted him, “I asked Junmyeon not to tell you anything. After finding out all these secrets about your sister’s death, I was afraid you’ll end up costing me a lot.” Tao’s expression turned apologetic while saying, “I asked Junmyeon to keep the secrets and tell you my lies instead. Because those were my lies. I came up with that false story, not him. He actually hated the idea of lying to you, he really did, Yixing. If it weren’t for me, he would have told you everything from the beginning.”

Gullible Yixing wasn’t there anymore, though. “Did you hold a gun or a knife or something else pointed against his head?”

“What?” Tao asked, confused.

“Was something threatening Junmyeon’s life when you asked him not to tell me anything?”

Tao shook his head.

“Then, it was his choice. You didn’t twist his arm to lie to me. He deliberately chose it,” Yixing said. He would have left right then if Tao hadn’t continued talking.

“But I did pressure him to do it in the name of our friendship. It wasn’t fair to you, I knew that, but I still asked him to do it. I-I just didn’t want to risk causing trouble again. I wanted to save myself even if it meant fooling to you.”

The trouble Tao talked about had to do with his earlier years at the Security Department. His father might have been the chief of the department, but Tao didn’t receive any benefits or favoritism, yet. He started his career as a crime prevention enforcer just like everyone else had done. Rather than being on duty and trying to prevent people from committing crimes, his work was mostly to monitor the machines recording changes in crime coefficients in a particular zone. If a threat appeared, then he’ll set off the alarm and notified all crime prevention enforcers on duty. Tao had been doing his work just fine and would later continue ascending in rank. But then Yifan’s dad’s stressed levels had increased due to his business going through a rough patch and his family was on the brink of bankruptcy. Although suicidal thoughts didn’t involve wanting to physically harm another person, it counted as a crime anyway. Killing oneself was for the System the same as killing a person. Those kinds of thoughts usually set off the orange color on an Emotion Watch or a potential crime in values of crime coefficient. Because of that Yifan’s dad ended up in a rehabilitation facility specialized in the treatment of those issues.

Of course, Yifan took it hard. Tao could see that his father’s absence had affected him, even if Yifan said he was doing fine. Worried over Yifan, Tao did something unthinkable. He tried to manipulate the crime coefficients. The calculating programs had strict security walls to ensure nobody could take advantage and deliberately change the numbers on an Emotion Watch. Tao had tried to break those security barriers and find a way to make sure Yifan’s dad crime coefficient would lower and go back to zero. He had been naïve and stupid because the man did need treatment to recover his mental health, but Tao had only thought of how that action would make Yifan happy. Ultimately his attempts at breaking into the program were found out by his supervisors. His reckless actions could have meant the end of his career, he could even get locked in for misconduct or even treachery. And that was the trouble he had caused his family, causing such shame and dishonor if the matter had become public. But most importantly, Yifan had been disappointed in him, and that was what had hurt Tao the most. Tao realized he had been mistaken. Yifan’s dad eventually did return without his intrusion, and the Wu’s business went back to its golden age. And Tao’s own father had ensured to set him free from any blame which allowed Tao to continue working without problems. The matter hadn’t reached the public eye, but his supervisors didn’t trust him much after that. They still felt as if Tao acted by his feelings rather than rationality and what was good for the nation. Even now when he had greater responsibility as an active crime prevention enforcer, they didn’t trust him. But as the years had passed, Tao had acted accordingly to what having loyalty for the System meant and didn’t let his feelings cloud his rationality while working. He never questioned any decisions, he never tried to break the laws again. Until Junmyeon asked for his help.

“As you can see, I had a lot to lose. I had promised Yifan to stay away from anything that could make me end up in trouble. But when Junmyeon asked for my help, I broke that promise. And if he had told you the truth and you had ratted on us, well, I would have let Yifan and my father down again. I didn’t want that. And Junmyeon knew it. Which explains why in the name of our friendship he granted my wishes.”

Yixing tried to chase away the unwelcome anger. He had listened to the whole story but couldn’t even feel the least sorry for Tao. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this, Tao. If anything, it just keeps showing me that people like you and him will never take the blame for screwing up.”

“You’re right,” Tao said, “But you should know that Junmyeon knew it meant a lot for me and that’s why he kept quiet. He couldn’t stand lying to you. That’s why I was the one who told you that false story, not him. He didn’t want to lie to you, Yixing. And he’s been suffering a lot because of it.”

Yixing closed his hands into fists. Why couldn’t Junmyeon had put him before Tao in that case? If he was such a great loyal friend, why couldn’t he have been such a great loyal boyfriend too?

“He put you before me. He should have expected the consequences.”

Tao smiled, a smile rather out of place. “Yes, he did. Because he values our friendship just like I’m sure you treasure yours with Do Kyungsoo and Park Chanyeol. But I get the feeling that Junmyeon may regret it now. I visited him a couple of days ago and… It’s the first time in years I’ve seen him like that. The last time I ever saw him cry was so long ago. You know he had a little brother, right?”

Yixing nodded.

“I remember that during the funeral Junmyeon didn’t shed a tear. Not a single one. He was just there, stoic, emotionless. And I thought that was so strange but at the same time so like him. When the funeral ended, my family stayed with them a little longer. And I found Junmyeon in Jaemin’s room, bowing on the floor, saying ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I killed you, I killed you.’ I never understood it. It was an accident, but Junmyeon blamed himself for it. I could never ask him why, though, he always avoided the topic.”

Yixing didn’t know that. A part of him wanted to feel sorry for Junmyeon, for the young boy who must have carried such terrible guilt with him for something that couldn’t possibly have been his fault. Yixing knew Jaemin had died in a car accident. Suddenly, the need for brilliance and perfection was starting to make sense. At the same time, Yixing was getting tired of the mind games, of being manipulated his whole life by this country, by these people.

“That doesn’t change anything. He still lied to me from the start and you know that. He still didn’t tell me the truth until the very last second, damn it. Do you expect me to give Junmyeon pity points and forgive him just like that?”

“Of course not. You have all the right to be angry, I don’t judge that. Just know that you made Junmyeon feel again, feel real emotions he hadn’t experienced for so many years, both good and bad ones. And one of them was that he loved you.”

Yixing furrowed his eyebrows. This conversation was taking a turn he didn’t want to hear. Junmyeon couldn’t love him. Junmyeon hadn’t loved him. What he had heard on the elevator… That wasn’t true. How could Junmyeon mean it when he had hurt Yixing like that? Does one hurt the ones they loved?

“I see you’re having a hard time accepting it,” Tao said, “But it’s true. Despite his shortcomings and mistakes, he did truly love you, Yixing. You have to believe that. And I hope you don’t leave the country with a tainted memory of Junmyeon’s love for you.”

Yixing wasn’t even surprised Tao knew he had applied to the Migration Office to leave the country. Now he suspected that was the reason Tao had come here in the first place, to clean Junmyeon’s name and hope Yixing would choose to stay. Tao’s efforts had been futile.

“I repeat, this doesn’t change anything, Tao. Junmyeon betrayed my trust with his lies and his lack of truth if we’re being technical. I’m not gonna run into his arms and console him. And I’m still moving abroad with my parents.”

Again Tao smiled at him. Not exactly what one does after failure. But his next words also took Yixing by surprise.

“Oh, I want you to leave. I knew my words wouldn’t change much, I just thought you should know them before you left. But you have to go, Yixing. Get out of here and never come back,” Tao said with a sudden change in tone and a stern face. He knew something.

“Why?”

“I’m gonna be honest with you. To prove that I’ve only been telling you the truth,” Tao leaned in closer on the desk until his face was only a short distance away. “You’re an unreadable, Yixing. You’re not safe here.”

Unreadable. The word rang a bell in Yixing’s mind. People whose emotions didn’t show on the Emotion Watch were considered a lethal threat. He may no longer be imprisoned, but he’ll have to spend the rest of his life locked in a rehabilitation facility. That was what Qian had found out, that was what she fought to change.

Tao backed away. “I noticed that every time you get nervous, your watch doesn’t shine yellow. But for some people, it takes way more than nervousness to change the colors. Then, when I saw your eyes burning with fury as you pushed away Junmyeon, your watch still didn’t change. In anyone else that would have been the cause for a yellow light.”

Yixing looked at his wrist. He began thinking when was the last time his watch had ever changed colors? How could he have missed this? “Oh, my god,” Yixing muttered. He had been so stuck in his sorrow and anger, then distracted with work and his plans to move abroad, that he had failed to think carefully about what Junmyeon had told him about unreadables. Of course, he was one. It all made sense.

“I looked it up on the machines’ register, and your watch has only registered a couple changes. But those were done during the first year you got your watch. Did you let someone else use it for you?”

When Yixing had gotten it and thought the watch was broken someone had. “Kyungsoo. He used it for some days.” What he and Kyungsoo had thought was a blessing, turned out to be a curse.

Tao nodded. “As I thought. Look, before approving your request, the Migration Office asks you to take a mental health check-up. It takes place in a hospital but it’s basically a way for us at the Security Department to also test that those who can keep their emotions hidden, don’t show any signs of wanting to harm others. Any minimal mental change can be registered more accurately with our advanced gears than only the watches.”

They had indeed mentioned some kind of medical check-up when Yixing had visited the Migration Office. But he hadn’t known there was a catch. Otherwise, he would have never gone there.

“If they test you, you won’t register anything. But don’t fret. You won’t have to take it. I’ll make sure to approve it without you having to be there at all.”

“Why aren’t you turning me in? Isn’t that your duty?”

“It is,” Tao said amusedly, “It’s what is expected of me, but it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. After the harm I, we’ve caused you, this is the least I could do. You’ll be safer with your parents, Yixing. Just don’t come back here.”

Tao stood up and began leaving.

“So, I won’t be able to see Kyungsoo, Chanyeol or any of my other friends again?”

Tao stopped short while holding the door handle. He turned to look at him. “If Junmyeon gets chosen, I’m sure he’ll change that, and you’ll be able to return without fearing anything. But I can’t promise the same if any of the other candidates win. It’s better if your friends go to see you.” Tao let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. Goodbye, Yixing.”

And so, Tao left while Yixing remained seated, staring at the watch on his wrist. Thoughts of his friends, unreadables, Qian and rehabilitation facilities went through his head. Even thoughts of him and Junmyeon never seeing each other again. That was what Yixing wanted, but where did this faint hesitation come from?

Healing was taking far more time than Junmyeon had. It was the fourth day of a new year, and yet his pain and aching heart wouldn’t let him be. His parents had called and said they were on their way back and would visit him tomorrow. And Junmyeon knew he shouldn’t be taking more time off from the company, they needed him there to do his job, that was what he got paid for. Minseok had also called saying that they would have a meeting to discuss this year’s campaign goals. With the holidays over, everything and everyone was moving forward while he remained there, stuck in his own misery.

Yixing wouldn’t come back. Yixing was gone for good.

He had to accept it and move on. Yet as the days had gone by, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to achieve it by his own means. No matter how many times he told himself to accept the reality, his heart refused to believe it. The way he could hide everything he felt no longer worked either. He couldn’t erase the pain and all those emotions tormenting him. But he could numb them. Yifan had said it was dangerous, but Junmyeon still had in his hand one of those little white pills. An emotion suppressant, medication that would numb everything he felt. No more sadness, anger, and tears, but at the same time no more happiness, love, or laughter, had the doctor he got it from said.

Junmyeon swallowed the pill anyway. No more pain. No more tears.