The door opens, and I immediately glance back at the alarm clock on my dorm room desk.

It still says ten minutes to eight. Time for breakfast. But that can’t be right. The atrium is dark. It must be the dead of night.

I step out onto the balcony and look up, expecting to see the moon hanging in the sky above. But the glass pyramid that spans most of the building’s roof is covered in snow. There could be a blizzard raging at this very moment—and I’d almost forgotten it was winter. I watch a few other students glance upward as they exit their rooms. Those who’ve been out a bit longer are leaning over the balcony’s railing.

I join the crowd. There’s something on the floor of the atrium, eight stories below.

It looks like a rumpled pile of laundry surrounded by a pool of black liquid.

Then I see a hand poking out of a sleeve, and I realize I’m looking at four twisted limbs and a torso.

One of the students has jumped.

His body covers most of the school motto. All it says now is emergo.

I know it’s a human being. I know I’m not dreaming. Dozens of other people are witnessing the very same scene. At least one person should be screaming or crying or shouting for help.

But we’re all silent.

The faces around me are completely inscrutable. They’ve spent the last month pretending to be thieves, drug dealers, and war profiteers. One dead kid isn’t enough to shock them anymore.

I’ve wondered what a moment like this would feel like. It doesn’t feel real.

“It’s starting early this semester.” I hear Hoya’s voice.

I’d like to ask him if this has happened before. I want to know how many students have committed suicide since he’s been at the academy. But I don’t dare say a word.

Tablo is standing just a few feet to my right. I raise my eyes to the ninth-floor balcony, just in time to see Seungyeon take a quick glance at the scene below and then glide away.

“Who is it?” I ask Tablo.

“Who cares?” he says. “I bet Key would be the first to go, and that’s not him. This is the second Beauty Pageant I’ve lost this year.”

• • •

The school-wide rankings are being posted this morning, and the elevators are packed with students on their way to the cafeteria.

I’ve been told that no one ever misses breakfast on ranking days. But judging by the anxious expression on most of the faces, I doubt any Androids or Ghosts will be able to eat.

Seungyeon, on the other hand, looks positively bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She’s waiting for me on the sixth-floor balcony. I’m impressed by her display of willpower. If I’d gotten here first, I wouldn’t have waited. I don’t even pause to ask if she knows which of our classmates just died.

The cafeteria seems even brighter than usual. The jumbo-size screen that’s been dark since the beginning of the semester has finally come to life. The only thing on it is a list of names. The academy’s students have been ranked from one to fifty-five.

I’m number 2. Seungyeon is still number 1.

“You won,” I say as I stare at the screen.

“I’m sorry, Flick. Maybe you’ll be the Dux next time.”

If the competition were fair, I’d have the title right now. I’m number one in all of my classes. Which means Seungyeon is number two in the ones that we share. She couldn’t have beaten me unless the rankings are rigged.

I expected Jungyeop to play by the rules, but he denied me the title just to prove he’s in charge.

I wouldn’t betray Sunggyu. I couldn’t let go of that last little piece of my soul.

But he sent me Seungyeon, and I pushed her away.

I’m trapped.

I didn’t do what he wanted and Jungyeop took my title. The next time, he might do something much worse.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you in class,” I tell Seungyeon. It’s the most I can muster.

I need to escape. I need to get back to my room before I lose control. But there’s someone blocking my path.

Sungyeol.

I don’t recall seeing him recently, even though we’re both taking the Fundamentals of Business. He spends most of his free time shut up in his room, trying to study his way out of the Androids.

“Did you see?” He sounds spooked. Sungyeol, the boy who shot his uncle four times in the head, is scared.

I glance back at the rankings and search for his name. He’s sixteenth. Not good enough to be a Wolf, but not a bad showing for a newbie with no formal education. I’m about to say as much, but he shakes his head. Whatever he’s seen, I haven’t found it yet.

I start to scan the entire list, and I come to an abrupt halt at number 12. Alex is officially a Wolf. Further proof that these rankings are utter bull. I’m not the only one who’s been screwed. If I were Sungyeol, I’d be hurling food at the walls.

But then I get to the bottom of the list, and I see why he’s too frightened to fight. Number 53 is Sieun; 54 is Key.

Sungjong has taken last place. And suddenly it hits me so hard that I almost collapse.

Sungjong. Sungjong was the kid who jumped.

“He told me yesterday that he was going home to Gwangju,” Sungyeol whispers.

I can’t respond. I’m too busy filing through seven weeks of memories.

Sungjong wanted out from the very beginning. Why would he kill himself right before he was supposed to leave?

Yesterday he was planning to head back to Gwangju. Did he wake up this morning and realize that the only thing there would be a life turning tricks? At least he had something to go back to. There are kids here who’d have nothing.

Like Key . . . Oh .

“Hello, I’m Seungyeon.” She’s holding out a hand to Sungyeol.

“Sungyeol.” I almost expect him to bow.

“Your ranking is very impressive,” Seungyeon says. “Mr. Jungyeop thinks you’ll be in the top twelve soon. Maybe even by next semester.”

“He does?” I saw Sungyeol smile on our first day in the Incubation Suites. Since then his face must have forgotten how. He’s doing his best. The corners of his mouth are turned up. I even see a few teeth. But it’s not a smile. It’s a rictus grin.

“Absolutely. It could be the first time that three students from the same Incubation Group all reach the top twelve. So we’re very excited. It’s a shame about Sungjong, though. I asked Mr. Jungyeop to give him a few weeks to work his way up from the bottom. But I guess the competition was just a little too much for him. Not everyone is as naturally gifted as you and Flick.”

“Thank you,” Sungyeol gushes happily. I bet he’s already forgotten about Sungjong.

“I just call it like I see it,” says the Dux.

I Seungyeon to a table where the rest of the Wolf pack has convened. She slides onto a stool next to Tablo, who’s busy his wounds. By the way he's acting, you’d think the guy was number 30 rather than third in the school.

Seungyeon immediately sets to work on Tablo’s injured ego. She’s barely listening when I announce I’m going for food. I slip out of the cafeteria and hurry up to the eighth floor.

The timing isn’t ideal, but I doubt it ever will be. I need to find Key as quickly as possible. The last time I spoke to him, he said he wouldn’t be leaving the academy. I know that hope can play tricks on a person’s mind. But now the truth has been posted for the whole school to see.

Key will be gone soon. Maybe even by the end of today. So I need to tell him what I wish I’d told Sungjong. That the world outside isn’t as dark as it seems. There’s someone who will help him. Key doesn’t need to jump.

The Androids usually spend breakfast time in their rooms, cramming before classes begin. But today, the eighth floor is deserted. I stick close to the wall. No one on the balcony downstairs should be able to see me. When I reach Key’s room, I’m certain I’m too late. The bed is made. The computer lid is closed. The bathroom door is wide open.

I’ve never visited his room before, and I’m shocked to see a badly burned teddy bear resting against his pillows. Most kids have something—a picture, book, or memento from their previous lives. But Key’s bear isn’t your typical keepsake. It’s lost an ear and one arm.

The few patches of fur that aren’t charred are covered in grime. Maybe Key rescued it from the fire that incinerated his parents. I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to throw it away. But I can’t fathom why he’d keep a foul thing like that on his bed.

I’m about to rush back down to the cafeteria when I hear a grunt in the bathroom. A single, gorilla-like grunt. I know what it means before my brain has time to translate it.

I freeze, hoping I’m wrong, and then the sound of ripping fabric sends me sprinting for the bathroom door.

I can only see his legs. A figure is crouching over him, one knee on either side of his hips. He hasn't heard me come in. He’s too busy tearing the clothes off his body.

Key’s not kicking or screaming. I wonder if he’s already dead.

The demon takes over me, but even it knows better than to make too much noise. I grab the back of Alex’s shirt and drag him off Key.

I’m glad to have the element of surprise working in my favor. I can feel how much weight he’s gained since the last time we fought—and every ounce of it is muscle. There’s not a single soft spot on his body.

Still, I have little trouble shoving Alex’s head down into the toilet bowl. His nose is an inch above the water. There’s no doubt in my mind that the hole at the bottom will be the last thing he sees.

“I warned you,” I growl in his ear. “I told you I’d kill you if you messed with Key.”

“I’m number 12 now. I can do what I want.” He’s not scared, so I shove his face into the water and hold his head down.

“Don’t.” The whisper comes from behind me. My grip loosens momentarily, and Alex’s head rises above the rim.

I hear him in air, but he doesn’t cough. He was holding his breath and waiting for me to lose my nerve. “What are you doing?” he demands. “He’s a Ghost.”

That’s the question everyone will be asking. They’ll want to know why I skipped breakfast to rescue an outcast.

“I’m number 2 at this school,” I remind him. “I came to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

“Seungyeon is number 1. And you belong to her. She’ll kill you if she finds out about this.”

I see Alex has been paying attention in blackmail class. “Are you threatening to upset my sweet poopsie-woopsie?” I snarl.

I push his head back under the water, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m not worth it,” says Key. Then he bends down. His lips brush my ear, and his voice is so soft I can barely make out his words.

“Hoya thinks you’re here for a reason. Please don’t let me get in the way.”

It doesn’t make any sense. Key can’t possibly know why I’m here. But I pull Alex’s dripping head out of the toilet. He’s been under long enough to have filled both lungs with fluid.

A few more seconds and he would have drowned.

“I don’t want your corpse killing the mood,” I tell him. “Get out and keep your mouth shut—or next time I’ll finish the job.”

He’s still coughing up toilet water as he crawls out of the room.

Key’s bottom lip is swollen, and there’s blood smeared across the left side of his face. He must have hit him pretty hard. He’s standing in his underwear, holding the shredded remains of his shirt together.

I open my mouth to say what I came to say, but he puts a finger to his lips. He’s trying to tell me the room might be bugged. But if he thought someone was listening, why didn’t he scream?

Thank you, he mouths silently. “Don’t hurt me,” he begs out loud.

He wants the eavesdroppers to think that he’s scared of me. Which means he’s managed to keep his wits about him. So why the hell didn’t he scream?

I grab his arm and drag him toward me. “Remember the boy I told you about?” I whisper in his ear. “Go to Guryong Street. Ask for Sunggyu. He’ll help you. Promise you’ll do it, Key. Promise me you won’t jump.” I feel Key nod.

“And when you get there, don’t tell Sunggyu where I am. Just tell him I still love him, and I always will. Can you do that for me?” I feel him nod again. “Good. Don’t worry about Alex. I’ve got your back till you’re gone.”

When I let him go, he clutches my arm and pulls me toward him. I feel a soft kiss on my cheek. He’s crying now. I want to believe they’re tears of relief.

Key points to the door. He’s right. I should go.

“I’m not interested in damaged goods,” I say loud enough for any bugs in the room. “Fix yourself up. I’ll be back for you later.”

As I leave Key’s room, I hear voices rising from the bottom of the atrium, so I take a cautious peek over the balcony. Three academy employees in white lab coats are finally carting Sungjong’s remains away. They disappear into one of the elevators, leaving a trail of bloody footprints across the courtyard.

Before today, I would have argued that only cowards take their own lives. But while the rest of us were striving to win Jungyeop’s game, Sungjong simply refused to play.

I wrote him off as a walking stereotype. I never realized he was the bravest kid here.

Which makes me wonder how much I’ve gotten all wrong. The only thing I know for sure is that Hoya was right.

This has suddenly gotten a little too real.

• • •

I’m a few minutes early for the Fundamentals of Business. So, it appears, is everyone else. Sieun—Number 53—is sitting at a desk in the center of the room. She’s weeping. Tears and snot are pouring down her face, as if everything inside her were being squeezed out.

A few students are snickering. But they’re not laughing at her. Justin is standing right behind Sieun, mocking her suffering.

His performance is perfect—he’s even mastered the snot. When Ms. Choi enters the room, Justin breaks into a wide, sunny smile. Two or three people clap as he wipes his face with a tissue. Ms. Choi clears , and I expect her to say something about Sungjong.

“Who can give me a legal definition of fraud?” she asks.

I can’t let anyone see how shaken I am, so I force myself to raise my hand.

• • •

Seungyeon walks with me to the Art of Persuasion. I can tell by the way she greets me that Alex hasn’t told her what happened in Key’s room.

It’s beginning to dawn on me how tricky this whole situation has gotten. If Alex rats me out, I could be totally screwed. Without Seungyeon help I might end up stuck in this hellhole for years.

So I’ve got to stop acting recklessly. And I’ve got to go back to working out every day. The only thing that’s going to keep Alex’s mouth shut is the belief that I’m capable of killing him.

I feel eyes on the back of my head as soon as we take our seats. I shouldn’t look, but I do.

Hoya is two rows behind me. He holds my stare for a beat too long. Key must have told him about my good deed of the day. Seungyeon turns to see what’s grabbed my attention, and she gives Hoya a smile and a wave. He cracks open his computer and ignores her.

“Poor kid,” Seungyeon murmurs.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Didn’t you see? Hoya is in the bottom five.”

I’m not worried about Hoya.

He’ll never jump.

• • •

The word suicide greets me when I enter Human Psychology.

Our instructor, Mr. Taek, has just finished writing it on the blackboard at the front of the room. It’s fifth period, and the subject hasn’t been broached since breakfast.

Here at the Woollim Academy, most people seem to move on with their lives with remarkable speed. But the seven other students in my class all flinch when they walk through the door. It’s like they’ve been greeted with a slap in the face.

I noticed a few weeks back that the course was filled with bottom-ranking Androids. My fellow Wolves don’t need to learn these lessons.

I’ve been number one in Human Psychology since the first day of the semester. It’s easy to play along. Every time I’m asked a question in class, I imagine that human beings are just arrogant monkeys. We may think we’re superior because some of us love our children or believe in God. But every single belief we hold, food we crave, or mate we choose can be traced right back to the fight for survival.

According to Mr. Taek, our lives have only one purpose: to pass our genes to the next generation and ensure the survival of our species.

Sometimes it’s fun to connect all the dots. Why do gentlemen prefer blondes?

Well, blond hair = sign of youth à youth = fertility à fertility = lots of offspring à more offspring, the better our species’ chance of survival.

Ding, ding, ding! We’re all just monkeys!

But I’m not in the mood for games today. Mr. Taek has chosen the one subject I refuse to find funny.

“Why do some human beings commit suicide?” he asks. “Who can tell me?”

I know exactly what answer he wants to hear, but for once I’m not going to give it to him. There’s a longer-than-usual pause. We’ve taken a detour from the syllabus, and the Androids are unprepared.

“Depression?” someone ventures.

“Close,” the instructor says. “Flick?”

“The need for escape.”

Mr. Taek looks like a zookeeper who’s just been mauled by his favorite chimp.

“No,” he snaps. “The sole cause of suicide is mental illness. It may come in a variety of forms—depression, substance abuse, or schizophrenia, to name just a few—but there’s always an illness behind the act. Not all flaws are evident from birth. Some remain hidden for years. Fortunately, evolution provided sickly brains with a self-destruct mechanism. Suicide is just another way that nature eliminates the weak from the gene pool.”

“Tell that to a samurai,” I growl. I promised myself I wouldn’t be reckless—but I won’t sit here and hold my tongue. I’m not going to let him convince these kids that Sungjong was defective.

“Excuse me?”

“In medieval Japan, the samurai saw suicide as a way to die with honor. A warrior would commit seppuku rather than fall into enemy hands.”

Mr. Taek nods as if I’ve made an excellent point. “If there was no hope of winning, then the enemy was superior. The act of seppuku may appear honorable, but the end result was the same. The weak died and the strong prevailed.”

I’m losing my touch. I should have seen that one coming. Even the samurai were chimps.

• • •

I nearly killed one of the lesser Wolves in Hand-to-Hand Combat.

He shouldn’t have congratulated me on taking second place the day we started training with knives. It took the rest of the class to pull the two of us apart.

I didn’t plan it in advance, but as it turns out, nearly slitting a fellow Wolf’s throat was a brilliant move. Seungyeon seems convinced that I’m still angry about the rankings.

I haven’t been thinking about them at all.

We’re in the Wolves’ Den, which is my new name for the tower lounge. Most of the pack went downstairs to dinner a few minutes ago. I have no interest in eating. Seungyeon is here too. But I’m not in the mood for chitchat, so I lie down and pretend to nap.

“Flick,” Seungyeon says. “I know you’re not asleep. And I know you think that you should be Dux.”

I open my eyes. She’s kneeling by my side. “And you’re telling me I’m wrong?” I ask. “I’m first in all of my classes. You’re second in two of yours. I thought there was a chance that some dark horse might beat me. But either way, the title should have changed hands.”

“Academics are only part of the equation, Flick. I tried to warn you. Mr. Jungyeop doesn’t believe that you’re ready to be Dux. He can’t counsel you in person right now, but he wants you to think about the reward you were promised. If you’re going to graduate, you’ll have to focus on that. Nothing else should matter while you’re here.”

My big reward. The proof of my father’s crime. It’s funny—I forgot all about it today. I’ve been running around trying to rescue Key, who won’t even scream to help himself. Trying to defend a kid who’s already dead.

Holding on to the memory of a boy I’ll never see again. Wondering how a person could love someone so much and yet, still choose to leave them behind.

“Why you?” I ask Seungyeon. “Why does Jungyeop think you deserve to be Dux?”

“Mr. Jungyeop knows that this school is all I have. Everything I care about is here.”

“Seriously? You don’t care about anyone out there? What about your mother? Don’t you miss her?”

Seungyeon snorts. “When I was little, my mother spent more time at the bar down the street than she ever spent at home. She didn’t want to be with me, so what’s the point in missing her?”

She’s right.

Why am I missing him?

There’s no point at all.

Why am I holding on?

There will only be pain.

I reach down and grab Seungyeon by the waist with robotic movements. I lift her, and she’s as light as a doll. I lay her down on the divan and kiss her.

I’m preparing to do much more than that when I hear her start to whisper.

"Woohy-" My eyes widen and I shove her away. 

There's no way she should know that name. There's no way anyone should know it. I've tried the past year to erase it.

The last person who called me that was Myungsoo - "Woohyunie hyung!"

How does she know that name?

I’m moving backwards too fast to come to a sudden stop. When I do, it's because I bump into someone and I find Alex staring at us.

“You’ve been watching?” Seungyeon snarls, and Alex knows he’s just stepped in it.

I'm still reeling, and I use the opportunity and try to wipe away the blatant shock on my face. “Why don’t you head down to your room, Seungyeon. I’ll meet up with you in a minute. I just need to have a quick chat with my old buddy Alex.”

“Don’t get blood on the furniture,” she says, sounding perfectly serious. “If you have to kill him, do it out on the landing.”

When Alex and I are alone, I spread myself across the divan.

“So do you see how things work around here?” I ask. “Do you see why you’ll want to stay on my good side?”

“Yes,” he says. And he does. I can tell.

“Then forget this morning ever happened. And get the hell out of this lounge. You’re not welcome back until I personally give you permission.”

“But I’m supposed to meet Tablo . . .”

“Screw Tablo,” I tell him. “This conversation is over.” Alex leaves, but I’m not in any rush to get back to Seungyeon. I stay on the divan and close my eyes.

Nam Woohyun. Nam Woohyun. Nam Woohyun.

It's been a while since I've even let myself think about the name. It doesn't feel like mine anymore. 

The time I had spent in Guryong, in the colony, with Sunggyu, free - It was as Flick. But Flick is also a monster that Jungyeop is trying to create.

I don't know anymore.

I shake my head from the thoughts. They are weakening me. I can't dwell on them.

Anything, anything. You said you would do anything.

Jungyeop was right when he said I’d lost focus. I came to the academy for the proof he promised. But he’s made it pretty clear that he’ll never let me graduate unless I want it enough to let Sunggyu go.

After I found out about Sungjong, I spent the day wishing Sunggyu was here.

If he had been, I know I would have told him what happened to me and my family. The whole story—even the parts I try never to think about. And I might have felt a little bit better. But I don’t need to feel better.

I need to grow the hell up.

Sunggyu made me weak when I was around him. I’m not a Lost Boy, and I’m too old for a Wendy. But I want to remember him once before I let go.

All I get is a faint whiff of strawberry before my dream’s interrupted.

And then the last person I’ll love is gone for good.

• • •

“It’s not the way the system works!” Tablo’s voice grows louder as he scales the stairs to the tower. I can’t see him from where I’m lying. But more importantly, he can’t see me.

“You already lost your Beauty Pageant bet. What do you care who gets to go next?” Isaac asks in his drawl.

“I just don’t understand why she’d stoop to spare a Ghost!”

“Aw, come on. You know why. She’s still trying to get into Flick’s pants, and he’s got a weird soft spot for that Key boy.”

“More proof he’s a loser,” Tablo grumbles. “This whole situation is completely revolting. Someone should speak to Mr. Jungyeop.”

“Give it a week or so. You don’t know what Seungyeon has in mind,” Isaac argues. “Besides, if Flick ain’t had a piece yet, he must not like girls at all. Way I figure, things’ll probably be back to normal real soon.”

They’re in the lounge. They’ll see me any second now, so I better act fast.

“You’re right, Isaac,” I declare as I stand up and unbuckle my belt. “I don’t like girls. I only have eyes for you. What are you now? Number 6? So drop your pants, bubba. You’ve been outranked. And considering the conversation I just overheard, you might not want to turn down number 2.”

It’s probably my imagination, but I think I detect a whimper.

“Flick, I, I . . .” For a future politician, Isaac isn’t too good at thinking on his feet.

“Were you really just questioning Seungyeon’s decisions?” I ask Tablo. “And threatening to take your complaints to Jungyeop? Do you think you know better than Seungyeon does?”

“No, of course not!” Tablo insists. “It’s just . . .”

“Just what? As far as I can tell, the system you’re so fond of works like this: you do what the Dux tells you to do, and you keep your mouth shut. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Tablo admits.

“Then don’t forget it again.” I head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Isaac asks nervously.

“Gotta answer a booty call,” I tell him. “Let’s hope Seungyeon doesn’t get all chatty when we’re finished.”

I don’t think I’ll rat them out right away. I have no idea what the consequences might be if Seungyeon knew what I just heard. But Tablo and Isaac do, and I really enjoy seeing them sweat.

I head downstairs to the ninth-floor balcony and start searching for an excuse to go somewhere other than Seungyeon’s room. I lean over the railing.

At the bottom of the atrium, the last traces of Sungjong have finally been scrubbed away. Hoya is standing one floor below me, surveying the very same scene. I should give him the good news about Key, so I hop on the elevator and beg it to be as quiet as possible.

“Bad day for both of us,” Hoya remarks once I’m standing beside him.

“And a worse one for Sungjong.”

“I’m not so sure about that. At least he’s free.” Hoya looks over at me. “You’ll get used to it. A couple of Ghosts kill themselves every semester.”

“Every semester? Why so many?”

“I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out.”

“I heard you’re in the bottom five.” Might as well get the subject out of the way. “I’m sorry. If you need any help on the outside . . .”

“I won’t. And you don’t need to pity me, Flick. I’d rather be number fifty-two than number two,” he says. “Seungyeon’s going to own you now.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “She’s not as bad as you think. I just heard that Seungyeon talked Jungyeop into sparing Key.”

Hoya’s eyes narrow. “Sparing him?”

“From being expelled.”

“Well, I know Alex will be thrilled to hear that Key’s staying.”

“I’ll be watching out for him while he’s here,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah? And what if the Wolves decide to go after you? You never considered that, did you? I bet you think you’re safe now that you’re the queen’s favorite boy.” Hoya pauses for a dramatic sigh. “Oh well, I suppose while you’re watching Key’s back, I’ll just have to watch yours.”

I feel a flash of annoyance. “What makes you think I need your help? You’re number fifty-two. Maybe you should focus on saving your own , Hoya. Why waste your time on me?”

She flashes me a smile. “Good question. Well, we can’t call it altruism, can we? I remember learning in Human Psychology that there’s no such thing. So let’s just say that I’m acting in my own self-interest. I’m trying to save my species.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I demand, just as one of the elevators stops on our floor.

“Looks like you’ve got a visitor,” Hoya says. “Give her my love.” By the time I turn to say goodbye, Hoya is already back in his room.

I can see Seungyeon’s dark hair through the gates.

She’s come to collect me, and I follow.

I've already given up, and it scares me.

NOOOOO!!! HE'S GIVEN UP! (He'll be back, but dramatic reactions are fun, so) NOOOOOOO!!!!

Hey guys~ Woahhh it's actually been over a week (and I'm not dead)!

I've been kinda busy with other stuff, but the show will still go on - though the updates might be a bit slower, I won't go past two weeks so don't worry!

I also sorta want to drag this story out a bit, cause with Sunggyu's enlistment (TT TT), I want this story to go on as long as possible. 

BUT... that means you guys have to wait a little longer for their actual reunion...  (SORRY PLEASE DONT KILL ME) 

Anyways, thank you to all you commenters, subscribers, friends, and silent readers! I get my encouragement to write from the views and messages I get, so MUCH MUCH THANKS!

Until next chapter :)