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After waking up to the rose petals on his bed, Plan decided to do some research on his options. Because he was realistic about love. And he knew that his object of affection was never going to return the love. Plan was okay.

The morning that he woke up coughing into his fist and saw red rose petals on his sheets, he was okay. It wasn't really normal, but it wasn't going to be the end of the world. He was not the first person to get this hanahaki disease. And he wasn't the first person that had to deal with coughing up flower petals. He wasn't even the first person in his group of friends to deal with the disease. 

That honor actually went to Title when he was pining after Earth. But, all he had ever coughed up were little delicate white petals. Earth had been really worried about him, and had tried to nurse Title to health. That's when their love grew, and the flowers eventually stopped coming. Title had explained that the best feeling was the plant slowly lessening into something warm and small inside of him.

If it wasn't for the unrequited love turning into requited love, Title would have ended up having to have surgery to remove the plant. Because apparently, this disease was actually fatal if it's left to its own devices for too long.

Mean. Mean was the person that he loved more than anything. But, Mean was happy with a girl that he had met a few months ago when he was back in Chiang Mai after shooting a music video. 

A girl. That was the very beginning point of Plan's reluctance to do or say anything about his developing feelings. The fact that the couple had been together for longer than a month, had him stopping all together.

Plan couldn't do that to Mean. Plan couldn't say anything that could potentially ruin their friendship and put doubt into Mean's first real relationship. He would absolutely not do that to Mean or to her. He would not make Mean feel guilted into loving him. That probably wouldn't actually count as requited love, either.

The idea of the other male loving him, was a stupid fantasy. A low sigh escaped Plan as he scrolled through the information for the disease. The surgery was apparently pretty low risk. At least compared to other surgeries based around the lungs and heart. That, by itself, sounded like it wouldn't be that horrible of an idea. It didn't seem to take all that long to heal from the surgery. So, realistically, he could do it between promotions for LBCSS2.

However, he froze slightly as he read that the feelings for that person would be gone. Sometimes it was all the memories of that person. Sometimes it was just the love that they had.

Maybe Plan was just a selfish person. Or maybe he didn't want to feel that giant gaping hole inside of him. That was what he was certain that not loving Mean would feel like. He couldn't handle it. He was selfish, probably. But he needed those feelings, even if they hurt him a lot. So, he would just keep everything quiet. He could keep it to himself.

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"P'Pan, you look like ." Stated the man who is the only person would called him like that. Situating himself across from Plan at the table Mean reached out, stealing some of the milk and one of the boxes of marshmallow cereal that were scattered on the table.

The rest of his friends had eaten and were off in other parts in the hotel, doing their own thing. But ever since Plan had started coughing up petals, he'd had a harder time eating.

So, he was trying to desperately attempting to stuff food down his throat, and keep himself from getting sick. Because he knew he would throw up more those red coloured petals.

Since that first morning that he had woken up, the disease only seemed to have gotten worse. It seemed as though every single time that Plan was around Mean, he could feel the plant twisting tighter around his insides.

"Thanks. You're always full of kind words for me," Plan said sarcastically.

Mean and Plan ended up sharing a room together since Perth seems so eager to have his share of rooms back with Saint, it was getting harder and harder for Plan to sleep. It was hard to breathe at night with Mean so close to him, which is only about three feet away.

He tried hard to make it so that not much changed in their friendship. They still hung out during free time. They played video games and teased each other frequently. Mean still woke Plan up in the middle of the night to talk about every random things he thought about.

From the outside nothing really changed, but deep inside everything in him slowly crumbled. He couldn't look at Mean without feeling completely lost and desperate. His heart hurt whenever Mean announced that he needed some private time to vc his girlfriend. Saint would make lewd comments and tease Mean.

"Are you sick though?" Mean asked, his voice much softer.

"I don't know. I might be," Plan replied. It was raining season after all. Plan had a history of getting ill during the season without fail. Every year that they had been together, he had gotten sick for about two weeks and was an utter pain in the . Sitting there, he decided that he could make some sick excuse as to why he looked so pale.

"Drink a lot of fluids. And stay away from me. Because I rarely get one and I don't want to catch one either. I thought I was going to die last year because of you," Mean said, finishing his cereal. "How irony, who is going to die because of who." Plan bitterly thought.

Mean got up, and pressed a warm kiss against the top of his head. For a second, Plan just melted into the small motion. He allowed himself to believe that it was something more than it really was.

His stomach was churning and he knew that he would have to dash to a bathroom. He was going to bask in the few moments that he could delude himself into believing Mean could love him.

~*~

It took about three weeks for someone to realize that something was really wrong with Plan. Mainly because the boy had started buying a lot of red roses to keep in his room. He figured that if anyone saw petals, they'd just assume it came from the bouquets of roses he bought. It was pretty genius move or so he thought.

Somehow, in those three weeks, he managed to keep himself in check around the others. He felt so weak that sometimes he fumbled in his move during their rehearsal. Everyone blamed it on him just being sick.

No one questioned how long it had been since he had gotten ill. He was getting worse, no one seemed to notice it for the most part though. That was, until Title came into his room one night when Mean was elsewhere, and sat down.

"I think I know what's going on with you," Title murmured, brushing some of the Plan's silver hair out of his eyes. He didn't seem to be bothered by how sweaty Plan was. If anyone was going to figure out what was wrong with him, it was going to be the only other person that had dealt with the disease.

"So?" Plan asked. It wasn't in a confrontational way. He was asking the other what to do. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to handle this. Even though he was the eldest after Earth, he had never been particularly good at figuring out what he needed to do for himself.

"Who is it? I mean, who's...?" Title asked. He looked over at him with obvious concern.

It almost hurt how much Title seemed to care about him. Plan shut his mouth, glancing to the side. He'd never vocalized his feelings about Mean. It had been kind of a nice little thing that he kept to himself. Saying it out loud, he wasn't sure how to do that.

Title was waiting, looking at him intently. There was no real escaping this, because one day he still need to get it out to someone. "It's Mean," Plan whispered. Title didn't look quite as surprised as Plan would have hoped he would be.

"Does he know how you feel?" He asked, pushing Plan's hair out of his face again. It just kept falling into his eyes, and he didn't have the energy to try and keep it out of his eyes.

"No, and I really can't tell him how I feel," Plan sighed.

He was trying to keep himself from sounding as pathetic as he currently felt. It wasn't like Title couldn't tell what he was going through. The male was pretty much seeing his past self in front of him.

The same stubbornness that seemed to come with the disease. Plan was never someone the other would describe as being stubborn. He was normally pretty flexible. Although, Title would have to admit that his flexibility was usually whatever Mean wanted.

"You can. It may seem hard or impossible. But Mean does care about you, and those feelings could become bigger. Then you wouldn't have to have the surgery and you'd have the person you loved," Title said.

Plan didn't have the heart to point out that Mean was most definitely heteroual. And that life didn't always work out the way that it had for Title and Earth. "I'm not going to have the surgery no matter what," Plan murmured.

"You could die, if you don't. You know that right?" Title asked, leaning closer to the older male and frowning at him. Plan avoided eye contact and just briefly nodded his head.

There was nothing more to really say about that. Title clenched his jaw as he looked at him. But there was nothing he could say, and he could see that on Plan's face. He was determined to be in ruin.

"Eventually everyone's going to know that I'm sick. Can you please not tell Mean? You know he'd be... You know how he is... He won't take it well if he knew that he was the person I love," Plan asked, biting at his lower lip as he glanced at the main vocalist. Unfortunately, Title did know. He shut his eyes and nodded his head.

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