The moment his tongue made contact with the faintly bitter liquid, he knew it was a mistake.

A mistake to think, memories could be erased with a sip of alcohol. What a fool was he.

And, like the blinded idiot he always was, he found himself nodding for the next drink. His vision was blurring slightly, the faces becoming less and less recognizable. But the same bartender was keeping a comfortable distance as she added another drop of vodka to his glass. It tasted...dry. Although alcohol was never his expertise, he heard enough from Kyuhyun to know that it was dry enough to numb his brain. The sensation was...relieving.

Maybe he just wanted attention. Like a puppy desiring love from its new master, he thirsted for a little more care, a little more affection.

His heart throbbed. Had his life been a cruel lie all along? Watching every dream crash to the cold ground, witnessing glass shards piercing his already fragile soul. Debuting was hard enough ; it seemed to be the toughest obstacle in his near-three decades on the unforgiving earth.

Stupid, he mumbled, incoherent. You blumbering idiot. Any other guy could have been more worthy.

Yesung downed the second glass, nearly choking at the last gulp. Silently, he thanked the fact that he held no trace of identification on him, just enough money for a couple more drinks and a cab ride home. If the managers found him...hell would be a kinder place.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him of the days he went without food already. Alcohol on an empty stomach hurt, causing his head to spin due to the extreme pain. Fumbling around the designer coat pockets, he managed a handful of notes enough to cover the drinks and a slight tip. Despite the suicidal thoughts running through his depressed mind, he had to get home before anybody noticed. Donghae was already ready to cover for him, but he did not want to trouble the innocent kid. He had to keep a professional front, to put his image first and personal matters to the trash.

Was he even feeling heartbroken? Because, it did not seem to be so. Dissapointment seemed to dominate his thoughts and hold him, numb and still. Maybe, just maybe he stopped feeling what pain felt like.

Keeping a death grip on the ice-cold top, he rose and stumbled towards the exit, baffled with his emotions.

Please, just stop.