It had been three days. Three days since Chanyeol left Baekhyun behind in the park. Three days since he had wound his tiny body inside his blanket and never wanted to leave.

Minseok turned up on his doorstep on the fourth day. He used his spare key to let himself in and was horrified. The windows hadn't been opened in days. A few empty wine bottles were the only sign of consumption. He opened the door to Baekhyun's bedroom and reeled at the sight of Baekhyun, pale and thin, wound up tightly in the blanket. An empty wine bottle was on the bedside table. It was 3pm.

"Baek are you drunk?" Minseok asked. Baekhyun had never been a big drinker. This wasn't good. "Hey Minseok!" A tiny voice wavered from inside the blanket. "I'm not drunk. I'm a Baek burrito." Baekhyun sat up and immediately retched, leaning over and emptying his stomach all over the floor, before beginning to cry again.

Minseok sighed and went into the bathroom. He began to fill the tub with water, returning to drag Baekhyun towards it, getting no help from the tiny man. "How are you so heavy?" Minseok grunted as he dragged him under the arms. "How are you so mean?" Baekhyun mumbled to himself. As soon as he got to the bathroom Minseok put him down and he immediately curled up into a ball. "No bath Minseokkkieeeeee.... Please... I feel sick..." Baekhyun mumbled and began to hiccup. "You smell like a skunk. And you need to sober up." Minseok pulled his shirt off over his head. He shook his head as he examined the state of Baekhyun's body. His pale chest was thinner than ever and his stomach muscles were wasting. He needed to eat. The tell-tale signs of his last night with Chanyeol were still evident on his neck and chest and stomach. The pinks and purples were fading but still hurt. Like his memories.

"I don't wanna...." He whined again and tried to hold on to his shorts but Minseok pulled them off anyway and picked him up. He dropped him into the warm water in his boxers and sat down on the floor next to the bath. Baekhyun clearly needed supervision.

The water revived Baekhyun from semi comatose to miserable. He was still half drunk as the water cooled and his fingers wrinkled. Minseok pulled the plug and Baekhyun laid sullenly in the bottom of the draining tub. "You have to get up." Minseok demanded. He had found a towel but he couldn't lift Baekhyun again. As the water drained away a shivering and pale Baekhyun rose and stepped out. He took the towel and examined himself in the mirror.

The bruises were fading. He didn't want them to. Rehydrated from the bath water, his tears dropped down again, as his delicate fingers traced the places Chanyeol had been. "What am I going to do?" His hoarse voice was barely a whisper. He wasn't even really speaking to Minseok. Or himself.

Finally he remembered Minseok was still standing there, watching him shiver and cry, and talk to himself. "Can you take me to the cafe? I want cake." Minseok smiled at his friend. He had a hard road ahead of him but he would bounce back. He would recover. He had to.

No one came to help Chanyeol. He worked for 36 hours straight before collapsing in a heap on the couch in the studio. His solitude was his prison and his punishment. He felt like . Leaving Baekhyun was supposed to heal him, to help him, to make him feel normal again. Normal. He mulled over the word in his mind and decided he hated it. Who wants to be normal? What even was normal? If this was a normal life he didn't want it.

His eyelids drooped as he clutched at his phone. He knew setting his wallpaper and lock screen to pictures of Baekhyun wasn't making this any easier but it was all he had left. He scrolled through his gallery. Baekhyun on the beach. Baekhyun in the park. Baekhyun in his bed, and his living room, and his car. His subconscious mind must have known that one day these would be all he had left.

Finally he slept. His heart was silent.

He woke up feeling worse. He had slept all day and now it was night and he was awake and sick and sullen. Most of all he was just quietly, heartbreakingly sad. He tried to stand but his legs were stiff and sore and tight. Swollen, he thought, exactly what Dr Yoo warned me about. His headache was blinding and his chest hurt. He didn't know what to do. He grabbed his phone and ordered food. As he hung up he was distracted by the picture of Baekhyun on his lock screen. His favourite. Baekhyun's angelic morning glow. Tears filled his eyes as he stared at the picture. His chest hurt. I need to delete the photos. All of them. But as his fingers hovered over the delete button he couldn't do it. When his food arrived he tried to eat but it was futile. It tasted like dust in his mouth.

The food discarded, he went back to his work, but he was sick of making empty songs for other people. It had been three days, maybe four, who really knew? Each hour that passed he thought he would feel better but he just felt worse. He picked up his guitar and tried to smooth his broken soul with some soft chords. Suddenly he knew what he needed to do. His song. He played it for h