“You’ll still be paid the same amount; however, you will be acting as everyone’s secretary,” the woman explained, handing Ryeowook a new contract, “We’ll call on you for any number of odd jobs and you’re still expected to fulfill any requests from Mr. Cho while he is overseas.”

“Understood,” Ryeowook nodded, signing the paper and standing up, “Where should I go for now?”

“There will be a requests in your mailbox, so just check their daily for any new jobs. If there’s nothing, then you should be filing paperwork or delivering messages from the mailroom. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” he bowed his head once, turning around and leaving.

Ryeowook collected the requests from his mailbox, fulfilling each one with practiced ease. The messages and tasks were mindless and barely required a thought. Being Kyuhyun’s secretary was a full time job and suddenly he was doing less than half the work for the same paycheck.

It wasn’t good though. He may have stopped thinking about Hyungsik as frequently as before, but that was because something scarier and more horrible had replaced those thoughts. Ryeowook hated having nothing to do, which spoke to the night.

Sleeping was impossible. Eating would have been good if those voices weren’t taunting him. Ryeowook barely liked to breathe – afraid something else would pop up in his mind. The slightest changes in the wind or atmosphere could be a trigger.

He didn’t want to come to work by the second month.

Going outside of his home was terrifying. The bubble tea shop across from his apartment brought every possible conversation he ever had with Kyuhyun about the drink, to mind. The sky at sunset made him smile, gave him energy, up until it set and he saw the city lights that sent him spiraling back, covering his eyes and clutching his head, helplessly trying to stop the visions of Paris.

Changmin and Victoria were caught up in one another and taking a vacation to Europe for a month. They hadn’t seen Ryeowook much, the latter having made excuse after excuse about all of the different requests he had been taking. Just hearing his voice on the phone or seeing his words in a text were enough to reassure them that their friend was okay though.

So long as they never came over, everything could appear just fine.

Ryeowook pulled the sleeves of his shirt down, the fabric not thick enough to stop the chills rolling through his body. His pajama bottoms were tugged over his feet, the drawstrings pulled at their tightest and still too loose.

The clock always went off early in the morning, drawing Ryeowook out of his daze. Sleep never stayed, flying in and out like an annoying bug.

The third month was his limit.

Ryeowook stopped coming. He had the same bike messenger that brought his groceries also bring his request forms from work. No one cared so long as he got everything done.

“Here you go, sir,” the boy handed Ryeowook a brown bag and a stack of envelopes, “you’re still lovely as ever today,” he smiled, “but you should eat more of these groceries you’re buying.”

“Thank you,” Ryeowook said softly, pulling the shawl tighter around his thinning frame, handing the boy money, “take care.”

The door shut and he walked past the shattered mirror in the entry hall, shifted around a barricaded closet, and entered the spotless kitchen. It was the only clean, untouched place in the apartment.

Ryeowook smiled when he entered the tile floored area, absently putting away groceries. He didn’t want to look at himself. He didn’t want to see all of the clothes Kyuhyun always lied about loving. It was just flirting. He wasn’t serious… Ryeowook shook his head, laughing at his own ignorance. He couldn’t get over how stupid he had been for purposefully looking for clothes that Kyuhyun would compliment.

The kitchen was where he made his last great memory with Hyungsik, though. So it was a safe haven. Ryeowook didn’t want anything to touch it, ruin it. In that small area, he didn’t have to think about Kyuhyun and his hate.

After so many sleepless nights, Ryeowook was absolutely convinced. Kyuhyun loathed him. Kyuhyun wanted him to die. Kyuhyun thought he was ugly. Kyuhyun never cared. Kyuhyun wanted to hurt him. Kyuhyun laughed at his traumas. Kyuhyun treated him like a toy. Kyuhyun would never dare love something like Ryeowook.

And it was like a mantra. Over and over again, those thoughts raced through his mind, reminding him constantly that he was a fool and love just couldn’t exist anymore.

That’s what happened when he thought he had recovered. Hyungsik was the sweetest memory, the most loving person Ryeowook had ever encountered. Now that he was gone, Ryeowook had naively thought that perhaps it was best to take that shining personality of Hyungsik, and learn from it.

Open his own heart…just a little – just for one more person.

Hyungsik wouldn’t have wanted Ryeowook to keep any heart, especially his, closed off. He would’ve wanted love to flow, friendship or romantic, because he was just like that…always.

And Ryeowook had tried. He really did. The words had poured out without restraint.

But then he realized maybe people don’t want his love. His affection. His heart.

It was selfish and arrogant of him. Kyuhyun was just playing around and Ryeowook had taken it too seriously. He would always take everything too seriously, and that surely was another reason for people to never accept him.

The door was open. That didn’t mean anyone would walk through it.

Ryeowook was tired of trying. He had had something more than perfect with Hyungsik. He had fallen for Kyuhyun, expecting it to be easy.  

Two heartbreaks were enough for one lifetime. Ryeowook didn’t want to go out there again – not ever. He hated seeing Kyuhyun everywhere; he didn’t need to hate anyone else. Hating people wasn’t what Hyungsik taught him.

If all that would happen when he went outside was loathing others, then he preferred to just stay indoors.

The fourth month rolled around and that’s when things started getting more difficult.

“Why can’t we come over?” Victoria asked over the phone.

“I feel sick,” Ryeowook responded, having been lying in bed for the majority of the day. He wasn’t really sick…or well, maybe he was, but that was a constant feeling. “It’s contagious…so please don’t come over.”

“Well, we’ll come take care of you then,” she urged, “we’ll be there soon, so don’t worry.”

“Wait—” The line was cut then.

Ryeowook panicked, looking around the apartment. The bathrooms mirrors were broken; the walls had notes scrawled on them from late nights of hysterical brain mapping. It wasn’t that he was crazy, really, he just wanted to work out a problem in his mind and he couldn’t find any paper. Ryeowook pulled his blanket with him as he hurried around, trying to figure out what to fix first.

There wasn’t enough time.

The bathroom had painkillers and supplements littering the counter and floor, having fallen when Ryeowook was shaking too badly to pour them into his hand properly. There were faint splatters of blood on the toilet seat and mirror, but they were just from bloody noses. Ryeowook could already see Victoria and Changmin overreacting.

It wasn’t that bad. Really.

He scrubbed at the blood stains, managing to get them out after a couple of minutes. The pills could be thrown into the trash as well. Quickly, he fumbled to clear the counter of all the bottles, fingers trembling so hard he dropped them, watching the white capsules scuttle across the floor.

“Damn,” Ryeowook cursed, heart racing and breaths coming out unevenly. His head was spinning and his legs were shaking.

He clutched his head, dropping to the floor and screaming. The noise was deafening, glass shattering, and raw beyond comparison.

Ryeowook curled into a ball, shrieking and crying, every painful word and phrase running through his mind. Crawling over to the bathroom, he grabbed a handful of the painkillers, looking at them and sobbing.

“I-I…I d-don’t want to f-feel t-this way a-anymore…,” he held the pills to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. “Make the pain stop…please…make it stop…,” he whispered, opening his hands and looking down at them again.

Tears fell into his palms, wetting the white agents.

Ryeowook, don’t do this!

He ignored the phantom, dropping his head and pulling his legs up, feeling cold again.

You don’t need them. You don’t need to do this. You’re stronger than this.

“NO I’M NOT!” Ryeowook roared at the top of his lungs, chucking the pills across the hallway, clawing at his arms, trying to calm down. “YOU LEFT ME! AND NOW THE PERSON I OPEN MY HEART TO HATES ME. HE ING HATES ME AND I CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. HE WENT ALL THE WAY TO AMERICA TO GET AWAY FROM ME.”

You’re just deprived of everything, Ryeo-ah. You need to get some rest and eat and get back to a routine.

Ryeowook slammed his head against the wall, crying and whimpering. “I-I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking…he won’t leave my mind...,” Ryeowook let out a shuddering sigh. He shoved his head against the wall again, feeling pain blossoming there.

Stop it! Stop it, Ryeowook!

He did it again. And again and again until he started feeling dizzy. The world blurred in and out, the pain in his head overwhelming.

But the world was finally quiet.