Baekhyun counts seconds on the clock.

It ticks steadily, like rhythmic beats on a metronome. No other sound to replace the silence.

He leans back on the couch, throwing his head against the armrest. Maybe he should’ve gone home after all; he really hates being alone. 

The presence one wall across that usually kept him grounded wasn’t there to catch him if he fell. But he could feel himself spiraling. Times when Baekhyun buries himself too deep inside his own head that the length of a year shrinks to only a day.

He tried to imagine what he’d been doing then. At home with his family, sitting by the kitchen counter watching his mom make his favorite dishes, lively chatter overriding whichever television show his father was occupied with while Mongryong struggles to free his stubby paws from Baekhyun’s arms. Then his older brother would chide his laziness, ordering him to get off his and help out. 

Just a typical day in the Byun household. He misses it. But fast forward one year and he’d accomplished nothing. He doesn’t have aspiring stories to tell. He advanced one step only to be pushed two steps back—and he certainly didn’t want anyone interrogating why he prematurely transferred out of music in the first place.

What a disappointment he’s become.

The stuffed doll sits rigidly across his couch, staring blankly at him through little woven eyes. It could use a hug. This evening was particularly dreary even a puppy seemed at its loneliest. Baekhyun frowns; he mulls for a minute, two minutes, then fishes for his phone on the coffee table. He dials a number he’s never touched before, ignoring the anxious drumming in his chest as he lifts the device to his ear.

She picks up after five rings. 

“Baek?”

“Hey.” Baekhyun exhales with relief.

A short pause lingers on the line, “I didn’t think you would actually call me.”

“I’m bored,” he lies. “What, am I under arrest for checking on you?”

“It’s only been a few days, Baek. Do you miss me that much?” Her chuckle tangles with disbelief. “Sorry, I’m not home right now. My relatives are hosting a dinner party and I had to find a quiet spot.”

“Oh, if now’s not a good time…”

“It’s fine! I’m the youngest at the table so there’s not much to say anyway. Just mundane auntie gossip.”

“At least you’re doing something,” Baekhyun lightly grumbles. “Should I send a photo of myself to illustrate how I’m dying from boredom?”

“No, you’ve made your point—“

“Too late.” His lips twitch. Pulling over the hood of his sweatshirt, he juts the most pouty expression he could manage and sends a snap her way. “I call this masterpiece 'wretched purgatory’. Tips in the form of selfie exchanges are optional but highly appreciated.”

He could hear Jieun scoff, envisioning her subtle eye-roll as though she hadn’t found it endearing as she should. “Since you’re acting desperate, I guess I’ll keep you company. Would that be a good enough exchange?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, I’ll take it.” He smiles, pulling the stuffed puppy onto his lap like a cushion. “Chanyeol was supposed to play League with me. Guess wh