Kim Kibum wasn’t a patient person, so when he had to drag a certain dinosaur-look-a-like boy out of bed, he wasn’t pleased. But Jonghyun’s company had called early in the morning, demanding that they met with the “amazing lyricist." So after Kibum informed them ever so politely that they would get their lyricist if they stopped yelling at him at five in the morning, he proceeded to Jonghyun’s room and kicked the boy out of bed. Jonghyun landed with a thud, but he didn’t stir. There was a notebook on the nightstand next to his bed, so Kibum could only assume that he spent all night writing lyrics again. He didn’t know how Jonghyun juggled between his job and his studies, but he guessed that explained why the boy was always so tired.

“KIM JONGHYUN!!” Kibum shrieked; his voice probably carried throughout the whole building. “GET UP BEFORE I DRENCH YOUR LIFELESS BODY WITH HOT WATER! KIM JONGHYUN! I HAVE A KNIFE AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!”

Maybe it was a combination of his screaming and the fact that he was kicking the lifeless lump on the floor as hard as he could, but whatever it was, it worked. Jonghyun stirred ever so slightly and tried to lift up his head. When he couldn’t, he settled for mumbling something into the floor. 

His voice was so muffled that Kibum had to bend down, “what did you say?”

“Wardchimekey?”

“…”

“Itsoulgirlinthechourling.”

“…it’s five a.m., and I know it is early in the morning,” Kibum folded his arms across his chest, “but thank your record company. Not me.”

Jonghyun groaned, frustrated. He finally rolled onto his back so that he could communicate better. The floor was crushing his chest anyways. 

“Ugh, what do they want?”

“The lyrics for some band’s next album. They said you are supposed to meet them at seven to go over them.” Kibum eyed the notebook on the nightstand, “you do…have them right?”

“Yeah…” 

“Well get up and get ready,” he commanded.

Jonghyun grimaced. He hated the thought of ever leaving his oh-so-comfortable…floor. He wondered how he even ended up lying on hardwood instead of his soft mattress. His whole body ached. 

“What…happened to me?” He got up slowly, rubbing his forehead. “Ugh. I feel like I just fell out of a tree.”

Kibum shrugged, “don’t know. Just hurry up.”
 

--


He studied his reflection in the mirror; his eyes traced the scars he had attained from his former life. The fog from his shower made him look surreal; they hid part of his face, making him look mysterious. That was how he always came across to people, like a puzzle they couldn’t figure out. He was never accepted amongst his peers because he was so different: he saw and thought differently. His family loved him but they didn’t understand. But he had accepted his life, corrected his mistakes and had moved on. Or so he thought. 

Kibum flinched when he came across a long slash on his stomach. He remembered how he had gotten this one mark, and the memories weren’t pleasant. Lately, his past filled his mind. It was because of the unexpected run-in with his former life that left him feeling uneasy. They had found him. 

“We can’t let you go,” one of them had told him. “You know too much, Kibum.”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. 

“We are family.”

“No, we are not. And I will not tell anyone anything if you just leave me alone.”

His former “friend” smirked, teeth gleaming. “How can we trust you?”

“You can trust me because I say so,” he glared; his eyes darted between his former boss and partner. “Look, I’m through with it all. Just leave me alone, all right?”

“You can never be done with us, Kibum,” his former partner told him, sneeringly. “You think you can just scrub yourself clean? Not after all the things you’ve done.”

Kibum clenched his teeth, fists curled under the table. He tried to fight the urge to punch the bastard in the face because it would not have done him any good.

“Are those…your new friends?” Oh . He didn’t react, couldn’t react. “How long before you turn on them like you did to us?”

He shook his head, tried to clear away the conversation. Just coming into contact with his old life again made him feel dirtied. He knew there was no way to “scrub himself clean” – but he was trying. He was trying to pull himself out, to stop being a burden to a family that tried so hard to raise him.

“I’m leaving!” He heard Jonghyun shout through the bathroom door and sighed. 

The way Jonghyun responded to his touch left him irritated because he didn’t want to cause that kind of reaction. Kibum’s eyes flickered over his face as he set the blade to his cheek. The cool metal slid across his skin, and he watched as crimson blood dripped down to replace the dried up tears. He hated the Kim Kibum who was too weak to stand up for himself. He hated the Kim Kibum who had induced all these scars upon his body because he was simply not strong enough. Above all, he hated this face – features that rivaled even the most beautiful girl. It was a gift and a curse – one he couldn’t seem to escape. 

Only a fool could not see the love and dedication Kim Jonghyun showed him. Sure, Jonghyun tried hard to hide his feelings, but his mask kept slipping. Kibum could feel his whole system vibrating when they were in the same room. He sensed Jonghyun’s nervousness, his struggle to keep their relationship normal. He wasn’t sure if the feeling his best friend had for him pleased or annoyed him. 

There was only one thing he was certain of, Kim Jonghyun didn’t deserve him. Not with all his scars. Not with his whole heart being so tainted that he didn’t know the joy of love even if he recognized it for what it was. 
 

--


Jonghyun hummed a happy little tune as he tried to resist skipping down the street to his apartment. The meeting had gone well and they really liked his lyrics! Now that he had a little break, he could focus on his school work a bit. With his new raise, he could afford to be a bit more lenient with his spending. Maybe it was time to hire the tutor he so desperate needed?

With his head cleared up from some of his worries, he finally felt at ease. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Kibum his news! 

When his phone vibrated, he answered right away and struggled to keep his voice leveled, “hello?”

“Jjong, come find me, I’m lonely.”

“Jinki? Where are you?”

“At my apartment. Minho is out with that kid again.”

That kid? Oh Taemin. “I’m on my way home, just come over.”

“Can’t. Minho and I have been banned from your apartment.”

“Why?” Jonghyun asked incredulously. He wasn’t informed of this.

Jinki sniffed, “Minho is banned because he seduced Key’s little friend and I am banned by association.”

Ridiculous. But because it was so much like Kibum, Jonghyun smiled. “Just come over. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Key is scary, I don’t wanna~” 

“Okay, I’ll be at your place later, all right? Just let me get home first.”

“Okay! Bring pizza when you come! OH! And ice cream!”

“No chicken?”

“We’re taking a break.” Jinki informed him, like he and “chicken” were in some kind of committed relationship.

“Uh. I’ll…see you,” with that Jonghyun hung up. He chuckled slightly to himself at his friend’s absurdity. 

It was funny how one good event led to another, and how those string of good events could serve as inspiration. Kim Jonghyun was slightly uncertain about where he wanted to go with his life. He didn’t really know who he was, just someone who talked too much whenever he was nervous. Someone who blurted out words then instantly made excuses for them. But whoever he was, and wherever he was going, he was certain of one thing: he wanted Kibum with him, always by his side.

--


“You’re going to do it?” Jinki bolted up from the couch. He was literally jumping with joy.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun rubbed his hands on his jeans, nervous all of the sudden. “I’m going to tell him.”

“Good! Finally! I didn’t like seeing you all angst-emo-ish for the past few months,” his friend told him, patting his back. “But now you guys can be all happy. And Key will let me back over there!”

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know, but silver lining…! Key will let me back in your apartment.”

“What silver lining? Me confessing to him isn’t a bad thing,” Jonghyun said exasperatedly.

“What? No, of course not,” Jinki frowned at him. “I want ice cream.”

Jonghyun shook his head as he watched his friend ran for the kitchen. It was pointless to talk to Jinki at times. He needed to talk to him when he settled down and could be serious. He felt his blood coursing through his veins, his head buzzed from the excitement. His requited love would finally end. 

Doubts circled his mind, choking him into an intangible hold. He knew the risks, was aware of the lines he would be breaking. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the words that he would ultimately say to Kim Kibum.
 

--

Kim Jonghyun didn’t know what he had stepped into. He had returned home, completely content and resolved to finally tell his best friend the truth; until he walked in and found Kim Kibum standing next to a suitcase.

“You…are taking a trip?” He asked lightly, a nervous chuckle escaped before he could help it.

“I was going to leave a note, but you deserve better. You deserve an explanation.” Kibum’s face was bland. There was nothing to be read from it. A complete blank; empty and beautiful, like a china doll. “Do you know who I am, Jonghyun?”

”Don’t be silly.”

“My name is Kim Kibum, youngest son of Kim Jaehoon’s; the current president of X.VIE Inc.,” at Jonghyun’s reaction, he managed a slight smile. “My brothers have always been blessed with the health and brains. I was a sick boy, like in typical movies. But I didn’t like books, and I never had any plans to die nor did I have plans for life. No one gave up because I was the son of a big CEO, so they kept trying.

“They didn’t give up until I could face the world without lapsing into breathing attacks. Then I was lucky enough to have lungs transplant, and so I did. Do you know who gave it to me?”

Jonghyun shook his head.

”Some guy fell off his motorcycle and just came in for a check up. They told him he’d die, so they kept him in the hospital. He was a match for me, Jonghyun, that’s why they kept him. He died because of me.”

“You didn’t – “

“Know? No. And if I did? I was a kid, I couldn’t have done anything? I’ve heard it all before. Anyway, when I was old enough, I ran from home – ashamed of what I had done, ashamed of who I was. I got into the black market, selling stuff, joined the gang. I thought it was great until they found out who I was…you’d be surprised how fast your people can turn on you.”

“Kibum…”

“Don’t. Don’t use that name. Look, I thought I owed you that much. I am not who you think I am, I am not the person you fell in love with, I just hope you’ll understand that.” Words meant nothing to him. Unlike Jonghyun who dissected, carefully crafted each sentences so that they’d fit into the melody and rhythm of life, he never cared for them. They were just words. Wasn’t that what the guy’s family had heard? Empty words of sympathy, he often wondered how much those words meant to them – but he knew, deep down he knew it meant nothing because their only son, their husband, and their father was gone.

“You…you know?” Jonghyun stammered. His brain automatically tuned into that one sentence. He felt like he could always handle Kibum’s little surprises, his oddity, his tainted past; but nothing could have shocked him more than that one sentence.

“I didn’t want to see it, but, it was so obvious,” Key sneered, his lips twisted into a genuine mocking smile. “Did you think I couldn’t see what I do to you with just one touch? One simple word? One kind gesture?”

“But you didn’t say anything…”

“Because you don’t love me, Jonghyun. You don’t know who I am, what I am capable of. I’ve learned to manipulate. I didn’t ask for this face, but I know how to use it. It’s a tool, everything I am is a tool.”

Jonghyun shook his head. “You don’t mean that…”

“I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you in these past few minutes. The Kibum you know, the things you’ve been told – those were the lies,” Key bent down to pick up his suitcase. “Have a good life, Jonghyun. Don’t trust everyone.”

----

Jonghyun stood in his living room, still too stunned to move. Of course he knew what X.VIE Inc. was, how many times had he himself worked with someone from there? They were a big name in the music industry, from managing to producing, from the simplest ear-piece manufacturing to instruments that were worth more than his life. Three sons? He had only heard of the two who were now working within the company, Key's brothers? 

Kibum hadn't given him time to react, hadn't wanted to give him time. It was simply like being pulled under and left to choke. Jonghyun fell limp onto his side, was there anything more painful than not being able to breathe?

-----

Minho watched as Jinki’s eyes narrowed as he took in the story Jonghyun had told them over what seemed to be endless amount of soju.

“So he just said that and left?”

“Yuuuuup, gone, sayonara….” Jonghyun’s head bopped up and down, as he pointed in different directions with both hands. “Oh…how did my fingers end up at the end of my palm?”

Minho sighed, “it’s always been attached to your palm.”

“You don’t say!” His drunken friend looked at him, or slightly off to his left, “imagine that.”

“The way I see it,” Jinki finally spoke up. “He could be lying about the whole thing because those guys are after him. And he just wanted to get away before you get hurt because he loves you. Or he could be telling the truth because those guys are after him and he needs to get away…because he loves you.”

Except Jinki was just talking to himself because Jonghyun had chosen to fall over and was now a lifeless lump on the ground; Minho sighed.

“Or he could just be trying to save his own behind,” Minho said, always the pessimist.

“Why would he construct that story then? Seems like a waste of time.”

“Because he knew that if he didn’t tell Jonghyun something, the idiot would go after him. And he would lead those gangsters directly to Key.”

Jinki scrunched up his nose at Minho’s reasoning, “how would Jonghyun find him if he didn’t want to be found? He wouldn’t even need those excuses.”

“Either way,” Minho looked towards the direction of the passed out lump on the floor. “What are we going to do about him?”

“Cover his tracks so he wouldn’t lead them to Key,” Jinki smiled slightly.

“How’d you know he is going to try and find Key?”

“Because despite what Kibum wants to believe, Jonghyun really does love him.”

Minho sighed, rubbing his head. “He can’t love someone he doesn’t know.”

“He knows Kibum where it counts; and I know Jonghyun better than anyone.”

Lee Jinki was rarely focused on reality; in fact, he had never understood the way most people lived. His life consisted of Jonghyun and Minho, and whatever job he had at the moment, none of which he was ever able to keep for very long. But for someone who was always so confused, Jinki saw things with amazing clarity.

---

He didn’t know if he was awake or asleep; didn’t know if he was lying down or standing up. His head was pounding, he tried to open his eyes once and was blinded by a white light. So now he was simply lying there as mute voices buzzed in the background. This must be what it felt like to be lying on the surgery table while aliens messed with your inside – not that he would know.

Something sharp poked him. But the sensation was dulled by his splitting headache. Jonghyun had never known what it felt like to be drunk; in fact, he had never found any temptation by alcohol. Well, Kim Kibum always made him do things out of the ordinary anyways.

And where was that boy now?

Cursing himself for even thinking of that, Jonghyun tried to mumble something, but nothing would come out. He felt useless. Lifeless. Well that was all nice and good, but he was really thirsty.

“Water.”

Did that come out right? Was there anyone around?

“What did he say?” He heard someone said.

“I don’t know, try poking him again.”

It didn’t take a genius to find out whose voices those belonged to. But whywere they poking him and not getting him water!?

“Water…”

“Gosh, Jjong. Get up, it’s like freaking past noon.”

Jonghyun’s eyes flew open despite the discomfort. He looked around the room at the bewildered Jinki and amused Minho, but the person whose voice he wanted wasn’t there.

“W-what?”

Minho chuckled, “see? I told you talking like Key would get him up.”

“That was mean,” Jinki commented, “go get him water.”

---

A young man stepped off the platform, his face hidden by a cap that was pulled low. He swung his luggage over his shoulder and smirked slightly as a middle aged woman waved at him from afar.

“Umma,” Kim Key muttered under his breath as he slowly walked towards her. There was no mistaken it. Every feature on his face, he owed from her. His brothers looked so much like their father: masculine, strong. Only he had inherited his looks from his mother: sharp eyes, nose, and lips that were unique shaped like a bow. If he had been a girl…Key shook his head, smiling, well wouldn’t that be interesting?

His mom didn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight embrace when he was an arm-length from her. He inhaled the familiar perfume and knew that he was home.

“It’s been so long.”

He felt the stab of guilt that always came from her words. Key knew that she would never ask him to come back home, she would never demand it of him. She knew him too well.

“Should we catch up?” Key beamed his best smile at her. It had been a long time since he did something out of sincerity, or has it? He truly didn’t know if he was acting when he was with Jonghyun, but Key quickly brushed that thought aside; it didn’t matter now, did it?

“Yes, tell me what’s going on in the world these days,” his mom linked arms with him, something she often did with anyone around her. She was always constantly comfortable with people. It was from her that Key learned the art of charming; but somehow it had been lost over the years. 

What could he say?

“I’ve been living with a roommate,” Key started, “but it’s time to move on. I might go back to the States for a few years.”

Kim Young Na studied her son; truthfully, he had never looked better. His face was rounded, softening his features. During his hard years, she could see the hollow of his cheeks, and dark bruises under his eyes. Not of that was shown on his face now. But there was something lurking beneath his eyes, something sad and regretful. She wondered if he was aware of it himself.

“Why are you leaving?” She asked softly.

“It’s all the same, umma,” her son dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m just tired of living there.”

Was he so unhappy? She didn’t know where his restlessness came from. Kibum always felt the need to be on the go, giving in, she sighed. “What will you do in America?”

Kibum shrugged, “maybe I will pick up my studies.”

Well this was the first. “Studies? You want to resume your studies?”

“Don’t be so skeptical,” his eyes mocked her. “I wasn’t a genius but I did well.”

“I know,” she placed a hand over his. “There is nothing that would make me happier. But I need to know what you are running from, and don’t deny it. Something is bothering you.”

“It’s…nothing bad.”

“Hm?”

“My roommate confessed…well, I left before he could. But he was going to, sooner or later. And I didn’t want to hear it.”

“So you packed up and left? My typical Kibum,” she smiled, though not unkindly, but there was a hard look in her eyes; something sad and bitter. “Did appa and I do such a bad job? We raised you to run away from love, to never be happy like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kibum sighed. “You didn’t raise me to be a delinquent, either. But it was my choice. You guys already helped so much. And I am not running away from love. I'm just...running..."