Mark and Jaebum had different definitions of the word “unfair”.

Mark thought it was unfair how Jaebum left him at such a painful time, when every second of the day Mark was getting ripped apart to little pieces, and when with each piece Mark was losing a little of himself.

For Jaebum it was unfair how Mark could just betray him and their team by taking the solo deal, and then without an apology or a farewell cut off all the ties with Jaebum.

Either way, unfair or not, both went through too much to hear any excuses or words of sorrow.

“He doesn’t even know how long it took me to make everything fine after he left,” is all they thought when they saw each other for the first time since the day Jaebum had furiously exited the company building without looking back once.

And indeed, no one knew. No one knew how Mark would hear homophobic slurs from other trainees, company staff, and complete stranger in the street. No one even had the slightest idea about how much Jaebum regretted letting Mark go, and how much his heart hurt after the other’s sudden departure from his life. Mark and Jaebum were both broken in their own way. They loved each other too much, and it all backfired.

“He must be happy now, without me cluttering his life,” was all they thought every day since the break up.

“Did you have to debut so badly that you were ready to even abandon your pride?” one of Jaebum’s drunken voice messages echoed inside Mark’s head, disturbing every thought.

Jaebum broke down each night thinking about all the happy memories Mark gifted him. All the night they spent under the stars, on the rooftop with their hands locked together. How Mark would smile watching the stars, and how he would smile looking at Mark. Jaebum started to drink, just so that thoughts of Mark and all his actions wouldn’t come up on his mind. And slowly, sleeping pills and alcohol were all Jaebum consumed.

Mark never left the dance studio nowadays. Dance and exercise were forms of getaway for Mark from Jaebum’s honey-like smooth voice. Mark would listen to Jaebum’s singing, close his eyes and picture them both inside a small two story house near the vast blue ocean, getting old together surrounded by family and friends. God, how much Mark wanted his life to be tied to Jaebum’s!

Neither Jaebum, nor Mark could sleep for a few months after the split. Because each time they lied down and closed their eyes, they would miss the other’s arms around their body, their scent and their touch. Mark would miss Jaebum’s smaller hands compared to his, his raspy morning voice and his silky hair. Jaebum missed Mark’s baby like soft skin, his godlike smile, and his delicate hands. Mark missed the two small dots Jaebum had on his left eyelid and how Mark would kiss them every day. Jaebum missed Mark’s contagious laughter that would greet him each morning.

With each other, regardless of where and when, Jaebum and Mark felt at home. Everything felt natural, fated, as if the relationship was decided centuries before. Jaebum’s shy giggles, Mark’s joyous laughter, Jaebum’s unsure touch and Mark’s warm hugs – everything was supposed to last a little longer, it was planned to be forevermore and a half.

When Jaebum saw Youngjae’s uncensored and unlimited mirth, he fell in love. Youngjae took away the pain, and Jaebum became addicted and obsessed. He was indulged in Youngjae and his life, his mind overdosed on happiness, a feeling he hadn’t felt for so long.

Youngjae’s healing powers soon became evil pain killers. Youngjae was there to silence out the voices inside of Jaebum. Happiness couldn’t be found anymore. Jaebum started to resent Youngjae for no reason. Youngjae wasn’t saving Jaebum anymore. Youngjae helped him to further sink in his intoxicating thoughts.

Jaebum loved Youngjae and every night he would stay up with notions that he was destroying all well in Youngjae’s life. Jaebum was the source of negativity and trouble in Youngjae’s otherwise perfect life. Jaebum was wasting Youngjae.

So he decided to push Youngjae away. He quit saying sweet “I love you”s, stopped the soft kisses, and become the antagonist.

But Jaebum didn’t know that Youngjae loved Jaebum too much to let him go for being treated as trash.

Mark spent the night at Youngjae’s apartment. Although Youngjae’s room was filled with silence, neither Mark nor Youngjae slept. Instead they thought back to the old days in remorse, listing all the things they would change only if they had the same mindset as now.

Mark would decline all solo offerings from the company and escape with Jaebum. He would grad Jaebum’s hand tightly and never let go. Mark would create even happier memories with Jaebum while living with him in a quiet village of hope and trust.

Mark would abandon his greed for fame, would listen to his desires and go to Jaebum’s arms.

Youngjae on the other hand would change nothing. Because falling in love with Jaebum was the best. The memories, however painful they at times may seem, were the happiest. Youngjae was thankful.

Youngjae used to think that meeting Jaebum was the biggest prank God had played on him, but now he realizes as he lies in his bed with Mark by his side, pretending to be asleep, Jaebum gifted Youngjae with honest feelings of love and adoration. Jaebum brought out the passionate freak inside of Youngjae, and pushed him to pursue the future Youngjae wanted.

While Youngjae was busy daydreaming about the best days he had spent with Jaebum, Mark was tangled in a spiral of nightmares, all caused by his previous life.

“Mark, it’s just a sprained ankle, not a broken leg. Do the concert, or pay us back for the entire two years of training.” Mark’s manager spoke roughly. Mark was miserable. He had no one by his side, no one to support him and stand up for him. Mark was completely lonely.

“Get ready for rehearsal.” The manager left Mark’s shabby dressing room.

Mark breathed out in despair. He didn’t know what to do. All he saw was the metal, and the dark tunnel with a dead end.

“Mark hyung,” Youngjae woke up the guy shaking in anxiety.

“You’re having a nightmare,” Youngjae said, trying to bring him back to reality so that the disgusting feeling of your own fears swallowing you won’t last.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” Mark asked. He looked at his wrists that were at the moment covered with the sleeves of his sweater. Only he and the doctors that aided him knew that was hidden underneath the baby blue piece of fabric.

“No, no, I was actually awake.” Youngjae informed, and with his words the comfortable, soothing silence came back.

“Oh, well that’s good.”

“Thank you” Mark said loud enough for Youngjae to hear.

Youngjae didn’t ask why. He assumed he knew. But it was for a wrong reason Youngjae thought Mark had thanked him.

Mark thanked Youngjae because he saved him. Not only did Youngjae save Mark from his awful, gut wrenching nightmare, but helped him put an end to his haunting past. Youngjae listened to him without judgment and stigma. He didn’t try to offer advice, or words of wisdom. He heard Mark out to the last word. Mark thanked Youngjae because of his warm gaze and kind heart.

Youngjae felt much better. The next day he resumed his usual university program.

“Choi Youngjae,” Jaebum stopped Youngjae as he was about to exit the university building.

“I haven’t seen you around the campus for a while,” Jaebum spoke calmly, almost as if he was asking because he had to.

“I haven’t had the motivation to go to classes,” Youngjae answered honestly. He’d normally avoid Jaebum, try to run away, or lie about relatives being in town, but everything got a little too much to handle by ignoring Jaebum and throwing around excuses.

“You’re still hanging out with Mark?”

Youngjae knew that Jaebum was aware of the situation, so it was useless to lie.

“Yeah,” Youngjae said.

“When I told you not to?” Jaebum’s expression got darker and his tone sounded much deeper.

“Yeah,” Youngjae had to have been trembling, with his heart being ready to explode, but something inside Youngjae changed the night he spent with Mark contemplating his life. Something inside him whispered how meaningless it all was, and how trivial life overall is.

“You’re constantly doing things I hate, huh, Youngjae?” Jaebum snorted.

“And you dare ask me why I hate you,” Jaebum whispered.

“Choi Youngjae, stop crying, I’m sick of it,” Jaebum spit harshly.

Jaebum was about to walk away from the boy, but the boy suddenly stood up.

“When? Since when did you exactly start to resent me? What have I done so wrong that you started to hate every piece of my being?” Youngjae asked.

Jaebum never expected Youngjae to be so blunt. Plus he had no answers to his questions. So he did what he always came to do. He left without another word.

Youngjae was in his room, staring the stained wall. Thoughts of Jaebum wouldn’t leave his mind.

Youngjae’s head hurt. And whether it was the migraine or the sense of emptiness inside, Youngjae picked up the phone and called Jaebum.

“Yeah,” Jaebum was half asleep.

“Do you really hate me that much, hyung?” Youngjae asked.

“Why are you asking question you know the answer to?” Jaebum replied with annoyance.

“If you hate me so much, why do you still keep me around?”

“To torture you,” Jaebum said and hung up.

Youngjae laughed out loud because life was indeed ridiculous. How much Youngjae must have sinned in the previous life to be born into a human again? Youngjae couldn’t help but laugh. He kept laughing because Jaebum’s words would find their way to his brain and devour his thoughts if he stopped.

“But he used to tell me he loved me,” Youngjae said to himself.

“To my dearest Youngjae,

I decided to write you a letter a day to thank you, to confess my love to you, and most of all to make you feel like the most loved guy, whom you definitely are.

Today we went out together without any plan for the day, and it turned out to be one of the happiest days of my entire lifetime. And I’m grateful you were there to share it with me.

You know what was the best part of today? The old couple telling us that we looked at each other with such loving gazes that we had to be a freshly married couple. I also loved how shy you became when you heard that, and how after that you slipped your hand into mine, holding on to it so tightly.

I love you. I think I completely fell for you.

Thank you.

Yours forevermore, Jaebum”

Jaebum either forgot to, or didn’t want to continue writing letters after that. Youngjae didn’t blame him though, perhaps after that day Jaebum never experienced a day with Youngjae so special that he wanted to pen it down.

Youngjae was a fool. He didn’t deserve Jaebum. Yet he dared to step out of the line, and try to reach out to Jaebum. He should’ve known better. The gracious bird that’s supposed to soar high into the sky won’t live on the filthy ground full of dirt beside the worthless, pitiful, and disgusting rat.

Youngjae didn’t attend any of his lectures the next day. He had too many things on his mind.

“Park Jinyoung,” Jaebum called out to one of the guys that took the same course as Youngjae.

“I don’t see Youngjae today; did he even come to class?” Jaebum had questions for the younger about their late night’s conversation. Jaebum had to explain himself.

“As far as I know, he didn’t come at all,” Jinyoung explained.

Knowing about Youngjae’s tendency to cut classes, Jaebum decided to pay a visit. He already had a spare key from Youngjae’s apartment, so he wouldn’t have a problem getting in. Youngjae would have to face him.

“Choi Youngjae,” Jaebum loudly declared, making his presence known.

“How and why?” Jackson asked, recognizing Youngjae’s possessive and abusive boyfriend.

“Youngjae gave me a key like a century ago,” Jaebum explained. It didn’t bother him that he was in someone else’s space right now. He belonged there. Or at least that’s what he thought.

“I’m sorry, but I live here with Youngjae, and I’m sure if I don’t approve of your appearance inside my home, you’ve got to leave, man” Jackson rushed to get Jaebum out of the apartment. After all, he heard all the desperate screaming, the crying and the loud bangs coming from Youngjae’s bedroom last night. He knew the last thing Youngjae wanted was to be reminded of Jaebum’s existence.

“Yeah, I don’t think you understand this,” Jaebum said roughly.

“Youngjae needs me,” Jaebum finished his sentence and opened the door to Youngjae’s bedroom.

Youngjae was asleep. And his room was a mess. His room was the perfect replica of Youngjae’s unstable state of mind.

Jaebum quietly entered his room. Books, notebooks, pencils and pens were scattered on the floor and it was hard to find a place to even just stand without stepping on a number of writing utensils and paper.

While looking through the notebooks that were filled with lecture notes, various scribbles and research work, Jaebum noticed a piece of paper with his writing on it. It was his letter he wrote to Youngjae a year or so ago. Jaebum remembered writing it. And he remembered that he had actually meant everything written on the piece of paper.

Jaebum wondered why he never kept his written promise. And why Youngjae never confronted him about his neglected, fake promise.

“Because you’re a psychopath, Im Jaebum,” Jaebum answered his own question. And it was true. He probably would’ve killed Youngjae if he had asked him about his discontinued letters.

As Jaebum was standing in the middle of the small room, he noticed something horrifying. Blood stains on the walls, as well as another huge stain on the carpet. He was taken a year back, when he received the news.

Jaebum got a call from Jackson saying that Youngjae had tried to kill himself at late midnight. For a few minutes, Jaebum couldn’t move. Why would he do that? Idiot.

Then he remembered. He and Youngjae shared blood types. Maybe Youngjae needed blood. The next morning, Jaebum went and donated blood, trying to convince his own self that it wasn’t because of him, and even if it was, he was probably forgiven because he had donated so much blood.

He donated blood. He should be fine. And that was the only thing that put him to sleep for the next two-three weeks after the incident. Then, it was alcohol and several drugs, and sleeping pills which contributed to his sleep.

Jaebum, with an urge to puke, exited Youngjae’s room. He couldn’t help but run away. It reminded him of bad days.

Jackson was about to throw Jaebum out of the apartment, when Jaebum voluntarily ran out. That’s right, he couldn’t handle Youngjae. Only Jackson could. He understood Youngjae and could love him until his problems went away.

Jackson being the caring roommate he is, closed Youngjae’s room door shut, so that the younger could get the sleep he needed, so that his body could recover.

Youngjae slept for the entire day. He was sleeping when Jackson left work, and was sleeping when he got back seven hours later. Jackson was concerned but didn’t bother to check on the boy. He figured he didn’t some space after all of “that”.

Jackson woke up the next only to find Youngjae asleep still.

“Choi Youngjae, you’ve been sleeping for too long,” Jackson said, entering the room.

“You have to at least get up to eat,” Jackson finished saying, and then right after noticed an empty bottle of pills by Youngjae’s bed. And froze.

Youngjae wouldn’t do it, again. Would he?

Paramedics were called in that day, and Youngjae was pronounced dead in his room. Youngjae was lifeless, pale, and miserable. No one cared to check up on him in time. Not Jaebum who had come to see him only twenty minutes after Youngjae had swallowed the bitter pills, not Jackson who spent two whole days with the dead boy without suspecting something was up; and especially not Mark, to whom Youngjae texted for a final reassurance.

“Hyung, should I do it?” Youngjae wrote.

“Yes.” was what he had gotten in reply.

Youngjae was kind. Kind and loving, and so caring. He owned such a huge heart, an enormous heart that he loved even the undeserving ones.

Youngjae was open-minded and accepting. He didn’t let what his strict parents taught him about the world, or what he learned at school limit his views on the world, and he always let people explain themselves and their perspectives, no matter how different. Youngjae listened and cared and loved without any preconceived judgment.

Youngjae was talented. He could sing like it was nobody’s business. And if he had been blessed with parents and peers supportive enough, he could’ve made it to a university he actually loved and majored in something he was truly passionate about – which was singing and composing music.

Youngjae was smart. And compassionate. He didn’t brag or show off. Instead he was humble and helped out whenever he could.

Youngjae was as stunning as one could get.

But none of that mattered anymore. Because Youngjae was dead. He was gone. And no matter how many compliments, how many well wishes people spoke, Youngjae was still dead. Nothing mattered. People should’ve realized sooner. Jaebum should’ve apologized, Mark should’ve been honest, and Jackson would’ve intertwined. But instead they chose to do nothing. And Youngjae was dead.

Youngjae didn’t exist anymore.

Although people were crying, none of those salty tears bared any meaning in them, none of the spoken words meant what they meant, and no one would remember Youngjae or his face in a span of a week. Youngjae’s name would be meaningless, insignificant and forgotten.

Jaebum, Mark, Jackson, Jinyoung, the students who studied with him, the professors all grieved; all regretted things. And it took a person’s life for them to realize what they should have realized years ago.

Jaebum settled down and married a girl two years after Youngjae’s death.

Mark went back to being an idol. And gained a lot for having lost a “friends” to suicide. Now he did public speeches about how important it was to love one another, because death could happen to anyone any time of the day. Mark, in all honesty, couldn’t even remember Youngjae’s face.

Jackson sold the apartment, and was travelling the world. Youngjae was never mentioned in his life ever again. Not because it was too painful of a memory, but because his death stopped mattering long ago.