“And my soul got so attached to yours, I can’t be me without you…living in Hell ‘cause we lost faith in the place up above…all the ones I hope would stay, are all the ones that fade away”

The tile of the bathroom wall presses into his back, the cold of the bleak porcelain passes through his shirt and seeps slowly into his skin, but he had long since become numb to the chill. He stares blankly ahead into the dark, idly rolling the empty bottle between the flat of his palm and the floor, having forgone using a glass to deliver the amber liquid to patch up the gaping hole inside of him. Drinking straight from the source was more effective.

Sounds of laughter filter in through the open window in the living room, drawing him out of his thoughts. He turns his head slightly to catch the last bit of mirth before it disappears. He can’t remember the last time he had laughed like that. A voice in the back of his head whispers a name and a moment flashes behind his eyes that had passed a lifetime ago. He shakes his head to rid himself of the whispers and pushes himself up into a standing position, stumbling forward until his hips bump the edge of the counter. Grasping the sides, he looks up at his reflection in the mirror. The shell that stares back at him could barely be considered the same person. Its black hair is disheveled; purple crescents hang under red eyes, and its skin seems as if it had lost all its pallor.

Jimin peels his eyes away from the stran