One hand in his pocket, the other holding music sheets that seemed alien to him, Jin sauntered back to his apartment. He wondered if his creepy roommate was back. There was no telling what Namjoon’s schedule was like, but that did not matter. He thought back to what occurred that morning.

    He was on his way to die. But perhaps fate had other ideas. He glanced at the autumn sun, now coldly glaring down at him. No warmth escaped from its rays, just an illusion of light. He forced the chatter of people out of his mind.

In a split of a second, he was back inside his mind’s eye, looking from the outside, at his body walking with no sense of direction. Just dysmorphic waves, the world swelling around him. In and out. Out and in. Endless ocean, muffling all sound and light--and trecherous thoughts sinking back inside his head.

    You don’t deserve to live. You should have died.

Jin gasped, jumping slightly. He broke into a trot, and then a run, dodging past school children, pushing aside old women who screamed at him, jostling through couples that vowed vengeance.

    The melody! Remember the melody! You have something to do before you die!

“There you are, Seokjin.”

    He paused as he glanced at the young woman sitting on the steps leading home. Bae Irene had her arms folded across her chest, stepping up to her full height, which was not very tall. A rather pretty smile was evident on her otherwise cold, cold face. Just then, the smile curled into an ugly grimace, and before he could blink, she was before him. The world reeled as his cheek stung. He even stumbled, catching Irene’s hand fall back to her side. She breathed so heavily, he could imagine puffs of steam out through her nostrils.

    “Irene...I could explain…”

She yelped, a vicious cat on the prowl for battle. Kicking his shin, she pushed him to the ground. He noticed her eyes gleam with tears.

    “Explain what, you fool?” she shrieked. She reached into the pocket of her coat, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Your death-wish? Huh? What made you decide to go and kill yourself, you little !” She tried to box him again, but strength failed her. Irene knelt next to him, unable to prevent the disconcerting sobs that followed.

    He was lost in her tightest embrace. Irene hated showing affection, but now she suffocated him with it.

“Don’t ever do that again, Jin. I thought I was too late. I thought you were gone and dead! How could you do this? How could you be so selfish? What would Rose think? My parents? Your father?”

    Something burned inside him. “He’s not my father! We’re not related. Besides…” Jin gave up trying to pull away. He sank into her embrace. “Besides, he doesn’t even care about me.”

She gave him a pitiful look. “That’s not true.” She swept aside his messy fringe. “And if he didn't, I still care, don’t I? We’re cousins, but Jin, I’ve been looking after you since you were wearing diapers.”

    He blushed. “Yeah, but still--”

“No buts! I had to clean up your poop, okay? You’re a little brother to me. And if I lose you…” Irene let out an awful mewl. “I’d follow you wherever you go.”

    Jin stared at the ground. His heart coiled with guilt. Maybe he was a silly fool for trying to end his life.

“Do you need someone to talk to?”

    “I talk to Namjoon.” Lies.

She scowled, rolling her eyes. “Like he’ll be able to handle anything. What about counselling, Jin? Sometimes, asking for help isn’t shameful.”

    He pursed his lips. “No way! I’m not psychotic. I don’t need counselling.” He pried himself from her grip, racing up the steps and removing the hidden key underneath the mat. She followed him up.

    “But there really isn’t any shame. Okay, listen, would you?” Irene sighed as she followed him into the apartment. It was still as messy as he left it. There was uneaten porridge in a bowl. Chocolate wrappers and ramen pots were scattered all over the ground. Dirty dishes filled the sink. The carpet was in need of a dusting. The wooden floors were soiled with stains. Jin blushed when he noticed the disgust on Irene’s face. She was always very pristine when it came to home.

    She shook her head, and impeded his way. “Listen to me. I won’t take you counseling, but if you promise to speak to a friend of mine, then I’ll let you off.”

He sighed again, rubbing his fingers through his hair. Maybe he was in need of a haircut. But if he cut his long hair, then people will notice his face. And if people saw his face, they would remember the awful bully from elementary school. No, he’d leave his hair past his shoulders and falling into his eyes.

“Fine, I will,” he said. Of course, he was not intending to agree with what she wanted. But somehow, Irene always managed to get her way.

    “Promise you will never attempt something?”

He glanced at her, and her expression shattered his heart.

    You don’t deserve her. You don’t deserve a sister like her. You’re just a burden.

“I promise,” he lied. He gulped, searching through the cabinets for some food. But he forgot--he had given away all his food to charity. The only thing left were Namjoon’s vegan stuff that he would dare not touch.

    Irene flashed her purse at him. “Hungry? Let’s go to that ramen place you mentioned the other time.”

That girl was Jisoo, huh? The girl from elementary. But didn’t I make her change schools? She looked...different. Her hair wasn’t braided, and she doesn’t wear glasses anymore. She looks almost….pretty.

    But how am I going to find her? I need to tell her something. I need to return her music sheets. She must be cl