“What's the matter with you today?” His manager, a relatively young adult remarks irritatingly. Hakyeon sighs, sinking into his seat and letting the makeup noona do her job. He feels hot, even though it's breezy today. His simple jacket for this filming does a great job job of protecting him from the violent wind that comes from time to time. The noona removes some of the sweat sticking to his forehead, and the effect of it on his mood is immediate, though not great.

“It's the fifth NG today, Hakyeon.” The manager lectures once again. It's not like Hakyeon never NG-ed before. There are no actors like that, but he's usually doing well, as where today his concentration is somewhere completely different.

With all the issues coming from Wonshik and his friends, he barely has time for himself, and the lack of rest takes its toll.

Hakyeon works hard, very hard, since an apartment like the one he has doesn't pay itself, and there are other things to take care of. Those thoughts and memories throw him into a spurr of emotions, and he simply can't focus.

Absent-mindedly, the man hangs the bag somewhere at the entrance, and not a minute passes before his phone buzzes. He doesn't let the ring play out, and answers even before a sound escapes the device.

“Yah!” A female voice bursts through the line, and inwardly, Hakyeon sighs, “You said that you'd come home last weekend. Where's your loyalty to your words?”

“I'm sorry noona.” He replies, meanwhile kicking off his shoes and sinking into the couch, turning on the TV to look at whatever.

“You made me and your sister worry awfully.” She tells him, “Is this how you treat family?”

Not wanting to explain the complicated situation of hey, my friend picked up someone from the street that has been abused by the guy I'm working with, Hakyeon simply nods, and only after a moment does he realize that his sister can't see him.

“How is noona? And hyung?” He decides to ask, avoiding the last subject. Some channel on the TV shouts loudly, and it fills up the silence of waiting for her to say something.

“We went to see dad this weekend.” She tells him, “Unnie took it better than last time, but… He still struggles.”

It's rare to hear Hakyeon's voice layered with such a serious tone, but lately, each conversation with his sister turns out like this.

“Hyung has to move on..” Words that are vainly spoken, since there's nothing to do about the situation, “Make sure to call me next time you go.”

“Hakyeon-ah.” Her voice quietens, “You should probably know that dad has gotten worse. He keeps having nightmares, and the nurses aren't very pleased with how the medication affects him. They said that most veterans turn out like this.”
His heart would clutch at this, but it can’t. Not at this point anyway.
“When are you meeting him again?” He voices out timidly. Talking about him always makes things so hard.
“We want to go tomorrow. Can you make it? I know you work a lot..” Her voice trails off to something he can’t pay attention to. His mind wanders to the breeze he feels from the open window, to the stutter of falling leafs, to the matt sounds from the street below him. Can he make it? Probably.
Does Hakyeon want to? It’s a whole different question.
Seeing his family is hard enough, especially at times like this when fall starts creeping in, and the anniversary comes near. He was always so close with his older siblings, being the youngest, but it has been so long since he actually felt like the young one.

His cool hand brushes through his thick hair, letting it fall gracefully on his watery forehead. A solemn wrinkle crosses above his eyebrows as he thinks about the offer. Perhaps it’s too much, now, but it should keep him grounded and remind him where his heart should be.
“Text me the time.” Is all he tells her, and after a several rounds of farewells and vain promises of keeping in touch, they hang up.
It’s incredible how hard Hakyeon works to feel in control, when in reality nothing in his life is. Sure, he got his friends, that are very precious to him, but what else? What else?

He can’t decide on even the works he’ll be doing. For as far as he knows, his manager would have let him do if that would sell, but perhaps it’s for the best. Hakyeon need the money, desperately so.

Ever since he turned 15, he’d work. Wherever, as long as it pays. At first it was cleaning, then newspaper delivery, then at a convenience store so he could study a bit. That was too, in vain, since his diploma is far from complete.

He sighs back to reality, and decides it’s best right now to cook something and force that idiot Wonshik to eat with him. Maybe he’d convince Taekwoon as well. He ponders a little longer on what a dog should and shouldn’t eat, and decides to ask Wonshik about it later.

“Oh? Taekwoon-hyung said he needs some air, he took Badass with him.” Wonshik says, and it appears that Hakyeon caught him mid-dying his purple hair. He wants to scold him for dying alone, but that’s plainly pointless. Instead, he stuffs the food into the miniature fridge that stinks like beer and energy drinks, and sits down where the pile of Wonshik’s futon lies.
“Wonshik-ah.” He says, and his voice is heavy. So heavy the other has to turn around from the mirror and see with his own eyes that it’s actually his hyung talking in that way.
“Yeah hyung? Did something happen?” He asks. A lot of people seem to ask him that lately. He should stop wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“I want to go tomorrow visit my family.” The older declares, not really knowing what should it matter to Wonshik. However, reminding himself of past memories, Hakyeon trusts the younger to know what to do. He always knows, somehow.

“Did you talk to your manager about it?” He turns back to the mirror and listens while painting the delicate strands, as well as his hands in red again.

“No. What should I tell him? I don’t think he will let me go.”
So they talk, and pass the night that way, where at some point Wonshik actually washes off the colour and happily smiles at the yet again red hair on his head. Taekwoon doesn’t come back, but Wonshik says he trusts him, since he left with the puppy.

Hakyeon is apprehensive.

The trees whistle from the cooling wind, and brown leafs tumble down, leaving a scent of ending of a season around. Hakyeon dislikes it awfully, but he’s here nonetheless. He looks at a big building, leaning over his car. The building didn’t change, at all, unlike the seasons and the years.

A sudden query pops in his mind, whether or not his father actually remembers him. He got taller, and changed countless time since he was here last. He takes a deep breath, the aura of finality and decay surrounding him. It’s a terrible feeling, but Hakyeon is still here.

A knot forms in his throat as he sees two familiar cars arrive from the end of the dirt path. The trees hide them well, but Hakyeon's history with those two identical cars allow him to identify them with no mind really paid. He wears a nervous smile, tucked beneath a large woolen scarf as his siblings arrive.

“Yeon-ah!” He hears his oldest sister call, waving her hand. She seems to have coloured her hair to pale orange, and it's a nice change from last year's electric blond. She's holding a bundle in her arms, and the tiny child makes a noise as she clings onto Hakyeon, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

He should be happy to see them again, and his eldest sister's appearance does lift his mood somewhat, but that changes as his brother steps out of his car and actively avoids Hakyeon.

The youngest sibling tucks his face deeper in his scarf, and together with his family, makes way towards the building that used to scare him so much.

It seems like the years only made him uglier. The old camo shirt is hanging over his shoulders, and the old man clings to it like he probably still clings to old memories of the time he used to serve. White and grey stubs of malnourished facial hair decorate his thin line of lips, spreading from above it to the base of his neck, where the hospital's shirt covers him. His eyes are still wells of void, just like Hakyeon remembers them. It might be that his father can understand what's going on around him, but there's no sign to that, no promise.

That's alright, Hakyeon thinks, since his father never really was around anyway. When Hakyeon was younger the old man was serving, and rarely returned home. He even remembers asking his mother who was he, in some of the earliest memories of his.

And then, he turned to this pile of dysfunctional mess that became Hakyeon's responsibility.

“Hi.” He tells the old man, but no recognition sparks, so he turns to his sisters, as if asking what should be his next step. The give him a reassuring nod, and he looks back to the man who used to be his father.

“It's.. Hakyeon, your little son.” He says to him, hoping for anything, but also for nothing. God, how he wishes to be anywhere but here. His heart races aimlessly, and he looks away again.

“I've been good, dad.” The words are stiff and unnatural to him, but he pushes through anyway, “I got accepted into a really good job, so you could stay here another year.”

The room's door opens, and slams shut and Hakyeon notices immediately the absence of his brother. His eyes search his sister's ones, and gets a shrug in reply. Knowing he probably shouldn't follow him, he does so anyway.

“Wait, wait, hyung!” He has to run a little to catch the man outside, already lighting a cigarette.

“What?” He barks, “Why did you come? So you could brag about how much money you make?”

“No- hyung, that wasn't my intention!” He retorts.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?”

Hakyeon isn't sure himself. He hasn't visited his father a long time, and wasn't really planning on doing it. It's easy that way- he'd pay for the bill, and leave the visiting, and all the emotional things tied to his malfunctioning family of his to his older siblings.

“I.. wanted to see dad.” He lies. Of course it isn't true, and his voice wavers as he says the words out.

“Cut the crap, Hakyeon.” His brother snarls, and matts his words with a long inhale, “What do you want? You're really good on your own.”

“Hyung..” He pleads, but the truth is he has no answer for any of those questions. He can't remember a time he had. There's an eerie silence between them, until Hakyeon's phone buzzes and he uses it as an excuse to ignore just a little longer his problems.

Message from Shikie, 17:21:

Hyung Taekwoon went back.

Message from Shikie, 17:21:

To his boyfriend.

An awful tremor sparks down his spine and he feels like he got just knocked out of air.

“I'm sorry, hyung.” He says, distracted, “I have to go.” He bows, and rushes to his car.

Message from Shikie, 17:23:

It's good, right?

Hakyeon isn't sure why he's rushing so much, but his instincts tell him that Wonshik needs someone right now to fill the void. Maybe it's the truth, or maybe it's just his way to escape from this place.

“Yeah, go, leave. Whatever, you were never welcomed here anyway.” His brother spits out, and before Hakyeon can reply, he's gone.

Message from Shikie, 17:34:

He left on his own. Said that they sorted things out.

Message from Shikie, 17:34:

I have a bad feeling hyung.

Hakyeon swallows dryly.

Sent to Shikie, 17:35:

Me too.