My brother is the only person I have.

Sung Joon, my older brother by four years, is the one I grew up with, took care of me. Sometimes I wonder if he hates me. If I were him, I would.

The dampness of the concrete is seeping into the thin cloth of my shirt, the rough surface digging into my cheek. Everything hurts.

I hold my cellphone up to my ear, like the many times before, and dial.

"Hello?" His voice is muffled and rough around the edges. He was probably napping on the pool table after dropping another drunk person off to his house.

"Hyung, come get me," I say, fighting around my swollen lip.

"Did you get beat up again?" His voice is grainy through the crappy phone. "ing moron. Alright where are you, I'll come get you."

"The alley behind the sauna. Hurry. I think those bastards broke my ribs." Pain shoots through my chest as I struggle to sit upright. A laugh escapes out of spite and brings another stab of pain. "Dude. I think I'm gonna die," I gasp.

"Hyung is coming. Stay put." His last words before the line goes dead next to my ear.

I slump against the dirty wall. All theres left to do is wait and I'm as tired as . Leaning my head against a pipe running up the concrete, I drift off, and soon I'm swimming in the dark.

"Hyung is coming. Everything will be fine.."