The ride back home to the dorm is silent. Even through the busy night street, it was as if the world decided to have a rest after years… decades, centuries.

Even through a blink, everything seems like it’s moving, moving and moving… discreetly. Is it just in my head or my heart is losing one of its string to make a sound?

I was expecting to be locked outside for a minute or so as usual. But… does everything really that mundane that changes were needed? Despite all that, I’m still expecting something behind this hallway. Am I being delusional? No. I’d been through this before. This is nothing. The dullness of my surrounding is nothing.

“Hyu-” Wow. To the left and to the right.

I feel old… weak… frail. It’s just a sigh, really. Maybe I’m being dramatic.

My mind dragged my feet to the bathroom near the dining space. With a backpack strap sling onto one of my shoulder, I dropped myself on the lid of our freshly scrubbed by Minseok hyung toilet. I took a moment for myself, closing my eyes and counting down the minutes to the 8th April, 2017. The day all nine of us were excited for each year for 4 years. But not this year.

I opened the lid of my eyes slowly, letting the blinding white light from the ceiling poking my tired eyes violently. The bag fell with a small thud on the tile. I wanted to look at it with disgust but I can’t. I’m doing this. For real.

Rummaging through the stuffs I got from coordi hyung, I took out the electric head shaver that I worked so hard for. Seriously though, I know puppies are cute and all but walking with my tails wagging between my legs wouldn’t feel nice. - Glad it didn’t happen.

Rinsing my face was just an excuse to calm down the nerves. Why? I done this before. I even posted it on Instagram.

Slowly bringing the buzzing device to my head, I closed my eyes one more time, trying to remember how I look like with young adult idol hairstyle.

The feeling… which one? How it went through the surface of my head? I don’t know. I looked up again and stare at the reflection glaring at me, one side of head clear of hair. I put the shaver down slowly on by the sink. Fingers carefully running through the surface of very short hair it feels like pins and needles - metaphorically. It hurts inside. The fingers then slowly moved to the mop of growing longer hair.

The finger then moved to pick up the carefully discarded shaver and ran it through the remaining long hair atop my head.

‘This must be