It’s been a long time since everything happened; since she handed him the wedding invitation, since she returned their apartment keys, since he let her walked out that door—

Liar!

—since he last saw his reflection and found no one but himself staring back from behind the cold glass.

He never thought that he would be wanting, needing his reflection to be someone else. Someone who isn’t himself. Someone who is a part of him, but not him. Someone with deep, passionately burning eyes, striking white hair, and tattoos scattering all over his skin, wrapped with painfully colorful suit.

Someone he called and called himself Ravi.

He sighed and dropped himself to the unmade bed. Since when was the last time he tidied it up? His mind was in jumbles. He thought he could sort everything straight once he got rid of Ravi from his head. He couldn’t be any more wrong than that. He was a mess, a worse mess, once he could no longer find Ravi in his mind.

The destruction he once only saw at the other side of the mirror had become the reality.

Smirking, he knew that it’s not only the unmade bed and the stuffs scattering all over his home. In hope to bring himself closer to Ravi, he had bleached his hair. He tried to get it as white as Ravi’s but no avail. His own body didn’t want to listen, and he started to wonder if such color was possible to achieve. After all, Ravi existed only in his mind. He’s the figment of his imagination, of the things inside him he didn’t want to admit.

Ravi was the bitter truth he killed in favor to his beautiful lie.

But in the end, his lie didn’t shine. His lie became a cluttered mess of loneliness and pain. At that time, he missed the deep voice whispering in his ears, screaming out his frustration, yelling out his name like he’s the biggest idiot in the entire world. And he couldn’t deny it, that he’s an idiot, because now of all time he had started to wish that Ravi is real.

He’s really losing his mind.

Sitting up slowly to look at his reflection on the mirror, he reached out his hand to touch it. The one staring back at him was still Jung Taekwoon. The one staring back at him was still not Ravi.

“Come back to me,” he whispered.

There was no answer. His reflection didn’t change. The fake platinum hair, the fake colorful shirt—everything was fake. Everything was a lie.

The only truth is Ravi.

Sighing, he took the drink on his table. If Ravi disappeared so that he could stay, he’d disappear so that Ravi could stay.

The glass slid off from his hand, shattered as it hit the floor. Taekwoon stared still at the mirror, fighting to keep his eyes open, struggling just to have a glimpse of Ravi for one last time.

But the voice whispering to him was of his own, light and high-pitched, a contrast to Ravi’s.

“You are not him.” 
“You killed him.” 
“Murder—”

And everything went black.