“Taehyun, are you feeling better?”

Beomgyu could see the sheer distress written all over the other’s face, and he briefly looked at Haseul to make sure he wasn’t the only one. He then slowly placed his hand on Taehyun’s forehead, relieved to not feel any alarming warmth.

Suddenly, all he could see was darkness, as if a shadow was looming over him, consuming him far too quickly for him to respond. Still, he could feel Taehyun’s body limp against his own.

“Beomgyu? Beomgyu, watch out!” Haseul fell back, her breathing uneven and her eyes trembling as she replayed what just happened. She didn’t know what to do, the whole sight catching her by surprise.

The sphere in front of her was so tempting, so bright, glowing like it was the holiest entity ever. She couldn’t see the other two anymore, all she could see was the radiant ball, daring her to touch it. She realised that the sphere formed exactly where the duo was seated. Wondering if this was the path home and hoping that Beomgyu and Taehyun were back on earth, safe and sound, she slowly crawled forward, barely able to keep her eyes open.

With shaking hands, she ushered her fingers forward, and just as her skin first touched the surface, the glorious light instantly dimmed into terrifying darkness as she felt the sphere engulf her too. For just a mere second, she saw Beomgyu and Taehyun in their same initial places, but there was no life in their eyes; they looked like mannequins, puppets with no strings – they looked dead.

Immediately, the bright light appeared again, sending a wave of dizziness right at her head.

But she could think no more, for she felt her surroundings slowly morph into one entirely new, yet so familiar and real. She felt cool wind brush against her face, and it only took her a split second to recognise where she was.

“Haseul-unnie, are you happy now?”

The voice was an echo, a whisper that was still deafeningly loud. It haunted her, it scared her. She clenched her fists that sat upon the table, and with fearful eyes, she looked at the faint reflection on the screen of her laptop – the sight of her own face, and Jungeun just behind her.

“Jungeun, don’t make me do this again…”

“Am I scary now? Huh? Am I a freak now? A whole decade of friendship all gone to waste in just a couple of days because I’m a monster, aren’t I?”

Everything felt too real to the point where Haseul couldn’t tell where she was anymore. It was an exact replica of what happened between them, a perfectly manufactured memory right out of her mind, a memory she wanted to burn away.

“Please stop.”

“You’re so selfish.”

“Please stop it.” Haseul knew that these weren’t the words she used, but the responses she heard were crystal clear, as if it just happened yesterday. A part of her hoped it happened just yesterday, because perhaps she could’ve changed everything.

“Jungeun, you’re going to die, and I’m still coming to terms with that, so I can’t deal with this right now. Please, I’m so sorry, but you can’t do this to me. I can’t lose you again, just go away, please! This is not real, this is just-”

“I’m just a selfish monster because I have some stupid tattoo, huh? Do you think this is my fault? Do you think you’re the only one who’s scared? Have you ever thought about how I feel?”

Haseul quickly turned around, facing away from her laptop and instead looking right at the woman behind her. She hadn’t done this in reality, and she always wished that she did – except not anymore, because turning around to look at Jungeun one last time was her biggest mistake, even if it wasn’t real.

“J-Jungeun? Jungeun, say something…” She abruptly jumped up from her chair, grabbing the other by her shoulders, hoping to hear anything at all. However, all she saw were dried tears, swollen cheeks, trembling eyes, and Jungeun was frozen in her place.

“Jungeun! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have abandoned you, I’m so sorry! Please!”

Everything was frozen – the hands of the clock just above her bed, the lava lamp sitting on her desk, the white curtains that should really be moving with the wind, all fixed in place. It was a rigid world where even Jungeun felt like sculpted woodwork.

In the background, she could hear distant, muffled voices – she recognised them, and she wished to be able to turn around and follow the source of the voices, but just like her dear friend, she remained immobile in her place, and all she could do was breathe.

The voices were so close.

So close, yet so far.

“I don’t understand, Taehyun… What are you talking about?” Beomgyu held Taehyun in his arms, breathing in the fresh air as they remained seated under a large tree in a park. It was so green, so colourful, so vivid and bright; it was just beautiful, but still, Beomgyu felt his heart shatter as he listened carefully.

“I just don’t feel the passion anymore. I’m really sorry, but I just… I think I fell out of love with you, Gyu. I think there’s someone else on my mind right now.”

Beomgyu hated how cold the other felt in his hold, and he hated how serious and sure Taehyun sounded with ev