Kibum keeps Jonghyun’s old acoustic guitar propped up in the living room. It’s obviously well taken care of, strings worn but still in good shape. The music it produces is still sweet and clear after years and years of being used. The guitar was always ill-fitting in Kibum’s grip, the body uncomfortable in his lap, but it was never meant for him anyway.

Some days, he thinks of handing it over to someone who could actually use it. Onew’s guitar is in bad shape, and he’s been looking around to buy a new one lately. Other days, it drives him mad just looking at it, and he wishes he could just break the neck off and smash the whole thing to splinters.

But he can never bring himself to do either, and so he leaves it there, gathering dust on it’s stand in the corner. Every month or so, he drags it to the local music store to make sure it’s in the same condition it’s owner left it in. Kibum’s fingers are clumsy on a guitar the way Jonghyun’s never were. Jonghyun’s fingers were blistered and calloused at the top from long hours spent plucking at guitar strings, smooth and practiced over the instrument like it was a part of him. And music really was a part of Jonghyun in every way possible, from nights spent hunched over his lyrics book until dark circles were permanently charred into his face, to days where every cell in his body was bursting with songs and Kibum spent hours just sitting at the park to listen to him sing.

The thought always leaves him with a sour taste in his mouth, and even less reason to bother learning how to play it. He stills takes it to be cleaned, even after Minho quite unsubtly told there was no real point. Kibum knew he was right, but he and Minho had still gotten into a spectacular fight that day.

It’s hard to break habit, and so he dutifully finds himself in front of the music shop at the start of each month. By now, it’s in near perfect condition, and the cashier doesn’t take long to tell him as much.

“You must really love your guitar,” the boy says, running his hands along the length of it and making sure it’s still tuned. “It must play great, doesn’t it?”

There’s a soft sort of smile on his face, almost like the one Jonghyun used to get when he started talking about his childhood dreams to be on stage. It brings a heavy lump to Kibum’s throat, and he can't bring himself to correct the boy, instead just nodding quickly.

To Kibum’s relief, he doesn’t bother striking up any more conversation after that. When he finishes up and hands it back, Kibum hurries out past the door and back into his cramped car. He leans his head against the steering wheel and breathes against the cold leather to catch his thoughts.

He starts the engine up without any real destination in mind. Going back to his empty apartment and facing the pictures of Jonghyun taped on the walls is out of the question at the moment. Instead, he drives around town for an hour or so, stopping to grab a coffee to sip on while he thinks.

It’s no surprise to him when he parks the car a little ways from the graveyard. It’s been too long since he’s had the heart to visit, and the guitar in his car can only remind him of Jonghyun. After a second, he lugs the instrument out with him. Jonghyun always use to say that it would miss him if he spent too much time without it. It had been a bit of a joke between them, and Kibum would always tell Jonghyun that he loved his guitar more than he actually loved him.

The lump in his throat seems thicker now that he’s here, and he considers turning around and just driving back home. But his feet are already moving, the path to the gravestone one that he’s since memorized from many trips here.

Unlike the movies, Jonghyun doesn’t have any mourning words carved into stone for him, just his name and how long he lived. A simple little angel statue lays next to the stone, something Taemin had put there the first time they all came to visit him. There’s nothing he can say now, no emotional words that he hasn’t already said.

He rests the guitar against his leg to stare at the grave for a long while, and a feeling of regret wells up in his chest when he can’t even remember what Jonghyun’s favorite song had been.