“Of course, I’ll see you tonight,” Kang Han winked at his client, who hid a shy giggle behind her hand, as he escorted her out to her car. He opened the car’s door for her, still with a flirtatious smile plastered charmingly on his lips. “Have a safe trip home, Miss.”

He waved to the driver and watched the car zoom off into the far distance. Sighing, Kang Han returned back into the building and sought comfort in his office. The lawyer busied himself with some paperwork for about three long hours until the loud slam of an office’s door echoed throughout the hall. Curious, he got up and poked his head outside his door. The intern from two rooms down also had her head hanging outside the door in question. They looked at each other for a while before shrugging simultaneously. As the intern disappeared back into the storage room to finish up whatever work Kang Han had assigned hours ago, the said lawyer stepped out of his room and strolled down the hall into the reception area. The receptionist perked up from behind the counter with a strained smile.

“What was that?” Kang Han asked.

The receptionist bit her bottom lip nervously, “Mister Choi just walked in.”

“Youngjae? Didn’t he go to that idol’s conference? Why is he back so early…” Walking back into the halls, Kang Han stopped by the door of his friend’s office. It was quiet. He pressed his ear against the door. Nothing. Kang Han shook his head and opened it. At first, there was no trace of someone in the office. But he did a double take and rounded behind the desk. Kang Han found Youngjae hugging his knees under his desk. “Hey, you okay?”

“No…” Youngjae whispered with a hint of hoarseness in his voice.

Sitting down next to Youngjae, Kang Han simply said, “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

They sat in silence for what felt like an hour, but really, it had only been ten minutes. Kang Han was understanding and didn’t push anything. He didn’t comfort either, because he knew how much Youngjae hated to look weak in front of people. Eventually, Youngjae would open up. Just give it some time. Another long ten minutes rolled by. Kang Han heard a soft sigh and turned his head slightly towards the owner of that exasperated release of breath. He listened.

"I hate myself," Youngjae tried to steady his breathing through silent tears. "Why can't I remember anything… Am I really guilty of something? I can't…"

"Who told you that?!" This was the first time Kang Han never heard of such absurdity coming out of his best friend's mouth. Facing Youngjae with his full body, Kang Han tsked in annoyance. "Who dare bully my Youngjae?! Tell me! I'll beat them up!"

Youngjae shook his head. He sniffled and buried his face in the gap between his knees and chest. Forgetting that he looked like a pitiful child crying because his mother lost him in the grocery store, Youngjae felt suffocated by his own hands. So many years have passed, and yet no memories were vivid enough for his poor soul to hang onto. How could a person just completely forget all sixteen years of his life? Is it even possible for something like that to happen? Youngjae doesn't know. He nearly gave up after years and years of searching. But when he finally remembered a name, the motivation reeled back into his life. And of course, there would be someone ready to step all over that hope and dream. Now, all Youngjae wants to do is stay hidden from the world until his memories fully return. He felt ashamed of himself. Ashamed of the kind of clueless person he became.

Kang Han sensed the overwhelming pain and pulled his best friend into his arms, rocking slowly to a quiet beat that created quite a comforting lullaby. It hurts him to see Youngjae like this. Being a witness to his best friend's demise with his hands tied forcefully would always be Kang Han's nightmare. He wanted so badly to help. But how? There was nothing within his powers that he could do except be there and lend a shoulder for Youngjae to cry on. Reality was a . Kang Han hated being useless. But there was no other way.

"What if what he said was true," Youngjae whispered softly against Kang Han's neck, "That the reason why I couldn't remember was because I had done something and that person doesn't exist anymore… Because of me… Could that Jaebum be… Dead…? And the reason was me?"

"What nonsense are you saying! Youngjae-ah, you're the last person I think of who would be the cause of someone else's death. Stop overthinking and hurting yourself. I don't care who be telling you bull, but this ain't it. You did nothing wrong."

"But I… Why couldn't I remember? I knew there was someone. A boy… His back looked so strong and protective. His hands felt soft and rough at the same time. The way he walks… The way he guides me… The way he was always there by my side… I just want to see his face. Just once. I just want to know what he looked like. I just want to know what our relationship was like. Were we acquaintances? Were we family? Were we friends? Or… Were we something more…" Youngjae muffled his cries on Kang Han's suit jacket. Everything came crashing down on him without a warning. And the pain was unbearable.

It wasn't supposed to be this painful.

But what could he do…

<||><||><||><||><||>

Sometimes, Jaebum thinks, if he grabbed a piece of glass from all the wine glasses that he broke and slit his wrists, would the world stop and fade away? He laughed bitterly, pitying himself for becoming this pathetic human being with no drive to go on with life any further than his front door. For the past three days, Jaebum turned off his phone and pulled all the cables of any communication devices from their plugs. He drowned himself in liquor and sadness from sunrise to sunset. At this point, he had probably lost track of time. Probably stopped counting the seconds of this never ending agony. He did this to himself.

"You're ing dumb," Jaebum scolded his broken heart and chugged another bottle of whiskey down his throat. The house felt colder and looked emptier along with what was left of his heart. Everything was going so well. Jaebum managed to hold out for ten years. Ten ing years.

Putting the whiskey aside, the idol lit a cigarette as he still sat there at the foot of his brand new leather couch. Jaebum had quit smoking a year after his debut to preserve his voice. And he vowed to never pick it up again. But this time was an exception. A puff of gray cloud blurred Jaebum’s eyes as he exhaled softly. Pieces of the bittersweet past played out in the smoke like a movie. Jaebum watched, unable to shed another tear, and put the cigarette between his lips again. His eyelids closed and opened slowly, feeling the relaxation hitting him. After another long exhale of smoke, Jaebum picked up the whiskey and took a long chug. A few more chugs and half a box of cigarettes later, Jaebum swung the empty bottle far in front of him. The glass bottle collided with the wooden cabinet and shattered into the pile of already broken glasses on the floor. The living room was a mess of glass shards and small puddles of liquor. If his fans were to see the depressed state he’s trapped in right now, they’d surely leave him without a second thought. Unshaven face and forgotten the last time he showered, Jaebum was hideous. He leaned his head back against the couch and laughed hysterically at the situation he's in for the hundredth time in these past days. The comeback was in less than a week, but Jaebum could care less. He'd rather be here bathing in filth than step outside with minimal chances of seeing Youngjae again.

It was childish and uncalled for. Jaebum knew how much his words would scar Youngjae. At least he got Youngjae to look at him with disgust. Now, Youngjae will hate him forever. And maybe, Youngjae will leave, too. As heartbreaking as it can be, he can't hold on. He had no rights to. He ruined the life of the only person he cared for. What kind of rights were left after that…

Jaebum finally decided to pull himself off the floor when the sound of the doorbell erupted in the quiet house. Groaning, he neglected to check who was at the door and buzzed them in. A few seconds passed, knocking was heard obnoxiously against the front door. The idol wanted to bash his head into the wall with how much of a headache the noises caused. He swung the door open, ready to curse and yell at whoever was trying to disturb his dreadful peace. His first thought was either that bother of a best friend of his or his manager.

But it was Youngjae.

“Where were you?” The lawyer straightforwardly barged into the idol’s home like they were old friends. At the sight of the horrendous mess, Youngjae’s blood boiled with anger and impatience. “So you were here drinking and smoking while everyone you ever cared about ran around like maniacs worrying for your selfish ?! Why couldn’t anyone contact you? Are you tired of living now? Your comeback is literally in a few more days, and you’re just going to sit here and drown yourself in madness? Why-”

“So what?” Jaebum rolled his eyes and staggered over to the kitchen counter where the unopened bottle of red wine sat prettily. Before he could reach for it, Youngjae had already moved it away. “Hey. That’s mine. ing give it back.”

Youngjae glared, and without a sliver of hesitation, he smashed the bottle on the floor. Red liquid crawled over the glistening green glass pieces, staining the carpet even worse. The lawyer balled his fists, his chest rose and fell uncontrollably. The amount of anger that ran through his veins could not be put into coherent words. Youngjae has always been a person with a cool temperament. He never gets upset or triggered easily. However, with the exception of Im Jaebum, the young lawyer just has to be driven to the edge. There was just so much unexplained tension between them.

“What the is your problem?!” Jaebum roared, allowing the alcohol in his system to cloud his head with irrational emotions.

“I should be asking you that! Look at this! Look at the ing mess! Is this how an idol is supposed to live? Is-”

“ that! being idol! . Everything.”

“All right then,” Youngjae stormed over to the nearest object he could get his hands on and smashed it to the floor. “ everything, right?” He moved over to the bookshelf and pushed it down, making all the neatly color coordinated books fly everywhere. It hurts him to treat books like this because he’s a diligent reader himself, but he was so angry at Jaebum’s attitude. If Jaebum wants a ing mess, he’ll get a ing mess.

Letting Youngjae ransack the place for a bit more, Jaebum finally snapped out of it when he saw the lawyer pick up a maroon leather-covered book with the intention to rip it apart. Immediately, Jaebum ran over and snatched the book back. “Stop. Get the out.”

Youngjae scoffed, “So you do have something you care about. Your journal?” He tried to reach for it in order to threaten the idol, but Jaebum wasn’t having any of it.

“I said get out.”

“No. You get out. Fix yourself and get out. Don’t act like you don’t have s to do, Im Jaebum-ssi.”

Jaebum gently set the journal down on a nearby chair and looked up at Youngjae with piercing cold eyes. “I got it. Please, leave.”

An uneasy feeling washed over Youngjae’s face. The anger was long gone. All that was left was an uncomfortable emotion pooling at the pit of his heart. Youngjae felt so hurt. So unjustified. He cared so much for this person who only seemed to give him cold shoulders. When Youngjae heard what was happening to Jaebum, he did everything to contact the idol. He was worried. Yes, Jaebum was mean to him, but for some reason Youngjae couldn’t help but be worried. And his worry took him to Jaebum’s doorstep. He just didn’t expect Jaebum to heartlessly throw him out like this. Over a journal. Youngjae darted his eyes to the said object behind Jaebum’s back. Curiosity boiled in his blood. How important is that journal to Jaebum…

Youngjae sighed, giving his client one last look before shuffling his way through the mess he had created and quickly exiting the house. If Youngjae stays longer, he might cry for no reason.

<||><||><||><||><||>

When the click sound of the door resonated through Jaebum’s eardrums, an exasperated exhale left his dry lips. He looked around his living room with eyes filled with desperate tears. The glass reflected his bleeding heart under the depressing sunlight. Whoever told him time would heal everything was definitely a ing liar. Though, Jaebum never thought about moving on. Never thought about leaving the reason why he’s still alive. Never thought about leaving the memories of Youngjae behind.

He turned around, ready to walk back into the painful past. The maroon leather aged well over the years of nothing but screaming agony and hopeless cries. Jaebum softly ran his fingertips over the surface of the journal. Slowly, he flipped open the journal. Tears b his tired eyes as he remembered those warm hands and bright eyes of the person who set his whole world on fire with just a simple smile. Jaebum closed his eyes and let the tears roll down his flushed cheeks. His lips quivered with resistance to the cries begging to soar free.

Youngjae’s journal.

There weren't many entries in it, because Youngjae had just started writing a little before the accident. The head maid had snuck it out and risked her life to bring the journal to the young boy who caused it all. Jaebum took the journal with him as a part of Youngjae he allowed himself to keep. There weren’t many entries, but if there were, all Youngjae wrote about was Jaebum. Lines and lines of neat handwriting describing Jaebum in the most perfect detail spread across the few pages. Paragraph after paragraph of longing and love splashed over the pages. Youngjae loved Jaebum so much.

It was hard to hold in something so painful. So hard to not scream and claw his throat out. He lost it when a photo slipped from the pages. He fell to his knees and screamed. Tears drenched his face as he screamed and screamed.

How could he forget? This wasn’t the first time he read this journal. For the first couple years after Jaebum left the old town, this journal was his lullaby, his encouragement, his comfort. He had only stopped reading it every night after he realized how open his wounds were. Storing it away on his bookshelf, Jaebum forced himself to walk past it every day. Ten years… Ten ing years and Jaebum never found peace. Because peace rested in the arms of Youngjae, someone whom he was not allowed to dream of.

“Youngjae-ah… Do you know…” Jaebum grabbed at his chest in pain, “You said someone I’ve ever cared about… Do you know… You’re the only person I ever cared about.”

No one told him being alive would be this complicated.

If he was dead, everything would stop hurting.

He used to be scared about leaving his Youngjae alone to walk this cruel world.

But now, Youngjae doesn’t even know who he is.

Jaebum has nothing to lose.