...feeling like his worst. 

 

His red hair still present, the long bangs in a tight upsweep, his stylist had chosen to darken the lines of his lids in black kohl. He had his ears pierced in the same fashion they had been since he turned twenty-four, and his suit was pressed and wrinkle-free from the best shop in Korea. 

 

...It was itchy.

 

He stood next to you, waiting to push in your chair, and trying yet again not to glare literally over the soon-to-be groom's shoulder. He had already seated himself down in the chair by you, chatting up one of the woman next to him, not even concerned what it looked like with the beauty next to him. You glanced up at YongGuk for a second, an apologetic look on your face and with this look let him push your chair in, like a true gentleman should. Sitting down beside you, he had tried to engage you in conversation, but your eyes kept drifting over to look at your fiancé talking to the other woman. YongGuk was seething but he tried not to let you know. He was going to kill that little .

 

You had been pulling your lip in, a nervous, worrying habit he was all too familiar with; was your man even aware of it? YongGuk, before he even realized it, was reaching out to run his fingers along your arm, something he always did. Something he shouldn't do. He'd let it continue though, when he noticed your shoulders relaxing, and you looked at him. 

 

"Yuggie, you didn't have to dress up so much for the dinner, you know." Smiling your normal smile, even with the small bit of ice in your eyes had his blood racing. He couldn't help but brush the few strands clinging to your face back, the man to your left still oblivious as hell. You relaxed into his touch, and he'd noticed for the first time that the shadows under your eyes weren't just from the liner so expertly put on by the B.A.P stylist. She had dressed you in a fashionable dress, your hair arranged around your face in some newest fashion that was sure to get you attention, something he'd known you where shy from.

 

He'd frowned, and lifted your chin up, "Are you all right?" You nodded, leaning a little more into his touch, looking like you where just relaxing for the first time in a while. "You look tired..." He whispered, leaning closer to your ear, and watched the all too familiar way you almost fell into him, as you always did when you were about to crash. 

 

He'd had the thought in his head that he wished you could see how much you meant to him, and how he would always worry about it.

 

"I'm fine, just tired and uptight about the wedding plans." He looked at you, studied you and just like when you where trying to tell him a lie you'd squirmed under his gaze. Raising an eyebrow at you, watching as you'd swallow hard, glancing down at your lap. "I...swear Yuggie." He scoffed and looked over to the right, coming back and grabbed one of your hands in a tight grip. You didn't even start, used to this behavior, "I know you're lying." 

 

You wouldn't look at him, another sign, and he'd waited patiently; eventually you would crack. You always did.

 

You'd your lips, something that made it hard for him to concentrate, but you opened your mouth, and turned to him, your eyes downcast. "Have you ever had something that didn't fit, but you didn't have anything else, so you stuck with it?" He'd tilted his head in confusion, "What are you-?" He stopped when your fiancé grabbed your shoulder turning you to face him, "Hey baby-dearest, what do you want to eat here? It's kind of a dump." You puckered your lower lip out at him, and YongGuk had tried not to strangle the man. This was your favorite restaurant. And he hated that stupid nickname! How the hell you didn't gag every time you heard it was amazing. He just couldn't wait for this night to be over. 

 

It looked like his wish wasn't going to be granted anytime soon, as the band then struck up the odd slow melody, and at your instinctive cringe, he knew you didn't hire them. The man to your right was bobbing his head though, smiling his little pearly white teeth in amusement. YongGuk wanted to bash his head in. 

 

Instead he tapped his fingers against the table, for all it was worth, looking like he liked the beat. Even though the music was crap, he could smoke this band up there, by himself. But of course he wasn't allowed too, barely able to come to this damn thing. The others were sitting at home, waiting for him to come back so they could be sure he didn't kill anyone. And even though the urge to do so the entire night crossed his mind many times he let it go, trying to keep his composure. It was hard when he heard from his right all about the wedding plans, his left how beautiful the wedding was going to be.

 

It was all YongGuk could do to not strangle himself.

 

==========================================================================================

 

The day before the wedding YongGuk was trying to keep his mouth wired shut. 

 

Trying to keep his thoughts to himself. 

 

But it was so hard.

 

So dismally hard, he felt his heart shattering into a million pieces.

 

It was a quiet room, filled with pink frilly things and scented things everywhere; to his relief, you didn't spray any of it. He didn't know what room this was but it was off to the left of the cathedral opening that you were going to walk from. So he naturally assumed it was going to be the room you got ready in.

You where sitting on the bench in front of the mirror picking your hair up into a ponytail, braiding it, debating over curls. Asking if you looked any good. He couldn't believe you had so many doubts about yourself. You had the finest makeup team at your disposal, the best hair dressers. But you didn't even need it, you were so beautiful. 

 

So much more each passing day as you drifted further and further from him.

 

YongGuk had needed to reassure you again and again that you looked fine. Even though his soul felt like it was being torn in two. You'd stared at yourself in the mirror, giving him an excuse to watch you. Wishing he was the one you where dressing for. He knew he sounded like a lovesick teenager, but it was his fault that he'd been too late and he knew it. He didn't want to ruin your happiness, as your best friend he was supposed to treat you right. He'd rubbed his hand across his face, smoothing the bags developing under his eyes. He hadn't slept in days, trying to sleep only caused tossing and turning...

 

...or nightmares. 

 

He was sure he was going to hell for the way he felt, sure that it was going to be one swift dive into a hand basket and set on a flaming rollercoaster. He watched the soft sunlight entering the window to lay upon your face, feeling like some dumb romance character in some live action in still motion. He wanted to write a song about it, but he feared it would reveal far too much about his own inner thoughts. 

 

You turned to smile at him, starting to talk about the wedding again, "So what do you think of the whole 'cathedral thing?' You don't think it's too much?" you'd asked, worry creasing your brow, "It's mainly his idea, but I kind of like it." YongGuk shrugged, feeling like the weight of the world was on that one action, "It's your decision. If you want it, it's yours." 

 

That's right, YongGuk was the master torturer to himself. He was paying for everything, his gift to you, all his guilt and depression wrapped up in a pretty little bow. The others had offered to sing and dance at the wedding, but your soon-to-be had shot down the idea. YongGuk tried to stay away from him for a few days after that, the look on your face when you were denied the simple right to have your friends there...his actions would have landed him in jail. He didn't even really want the group there, he knew; the way he spoke to the boys had you dragging him off numerous times. You had always looked so distressed when he did this, always apologizing, and they always just dealt with it. 

 

You had been looking down at your hands again, twisting them in your lap, and he didn't bother to say anything, because he knew you'd just tell him in was pre-wedding jitters and smile that awful, awful fake smile. Instead he ran his hand through the red locks on top of his head again; they had fallen into his eyes, just for a few moments trying to capture the last few images he'd have of you alone like this.

 

Free.

 

He was so worried you wouldn't hang out with him and the group like you used too, that he wouldn't be able too. It hurt his chest to think about it and he pushed it away. He knew things would change, but could he help himself? 

 

He didn't know.

 

The rest of the day passed with the same monotonous drip, time slowing to the point of sheer insanity. With hair appointments, last minute makeup consultations. Normally YongGuk would have bowed out of all this mayhem, the fans following him to and from every place. But when you held his hand ever so tightly and looked up at him with those innocent eyes filled with joy he couldn't let you down.

 

So he fell further down, taking the brunt of the pain with him...