"Yoon Dowoon! Dowoonie wake up!" Wonpil shook his friend anxiously while dabbing at the beads of sweat on Dowoon's forehead. His handsome face was scrunched up as if in pain, and his normally steady hands trembled even as he struggled to wake up. His large eyes finally flickered open and he glanced at Wonpil who was squatting next to him. "Were you dreaming about that again?" Dowoon nodded as he sighed heavily. Looking around at the still dark room, he apologised to Wonpil for waking him up before turning back and burrowing his face onto the pillow. Even when he heard Wonpil's gentle snores, Dowoon continued to lie awake, the images of his dream running through his head. Or rather, the all-too-vivid images of his past. This was one part of himself that he had never been able to open up to his hyungs. The question still haunted him: if he had not screwed up so badly then, what would his life had been now? 

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