It was time. 

 

It was time to turn on the TV and see what could have been.

 

You reached up from your cocooned blanket pillow fort on the worn, spring-exploded couch. The remote was tight in your hand, the edges digging into your skin... the hand shaking slightly. 

 

This was pure punishment.

 

The TV light flickered slightly, bringing a blurry picture of static to the screen, and you narrowed your eyes to the light. It was dark in the confines of your house and your father was still out.

 

...and he would be for a while. 

 

You brushed the thought from your mind, instead changing the channel to three, and then pressed the play button of the stolen DVD player. The same ache passed through your cheek as it was one of many...

 

The video started up like it always did, the fan cam traveling from the last row to the first. The fans cheering loudly and clapping violently, all grinning and chanting the same thing. They jumped and threw their arms over their heads for the smoke pouring from the stage. The amazing lights powered up, the blues and yellows hitting the crowd. The white lights illuminated the stage, and you couldn't keep your eyes off the screen. The six spot lights shone down hard on the boys emerging from the floor, each a huge smile on their faces.

 

As if the noise didn't bother them, the heat, the lights, nothing could touch them...

 

Your hand moved to cover your heart, its thumping painfully hard, when the camera connected with their eyes. The hope and happiness in them made it jump...

 

But when they connected at last to the boy off to the right, his too long bangs brushing into his eyes...it was completely different.

 

You wanted to brush them out of his face...

 

Like you used to do.

 

Biting the tears back, you breathed in deeply, trying not to think of the past. It was stupid to try and go back to what would never be. 

 

On the TV the boy smiled, a flashy thing you had only seen on the screen; it wasn’t the small, easy one you had known. His hand shot up in the air, his voice issuing smoothly from his mouth. You never truly got to know the language he spoke so fluidly, but you had tried. You knew he was counting down until they all opened their mouths, and when he hit the last syllable they all did.

 

It was something beautiful to behold. You felt it deeply in your bones and as the first song began and ended you sung along quietly. Your frame swung to and fro, a small smile playing on your lips. No matter how you felt, not matter what you where thinking they would cheer you up. 

 

It was something you shouldn't have, but the desperate part of you couldn't help torturing yourself. Even for a little glance that everyone else shared. Even with the excited looks of the rest of them, their bright costumes and their sweet voices.

 

He still held it.

 

Every time the camera would focus on him, it was too much, it was too little...

 

It hurt so good...

 

His dark eyes pulled you in as the camera captured his wink, the cheekiness of it. He was so different than the person you had once known. It was probably for the better, for what you knew was sadness. 

 

The place became colder as the video finished, the air creeping in on you again as you wrapped the blanket tighter. It was a fruitless attempt; the blanket would never reach inside you. 

 

The video ended with the six again, bowing deeply to their fans, who knew it was over and didn't like it. They bowed again, blowing kisses, being cute, and then bounced off the stage. The lights dimmed until the screen turned black, then the credits; by then,tears were running down your cheeks. 

 

You lifted off of the couch, the cold striking you, and leaned down, pushing the button. The DVD popped out, and through the blur in your eyes you picked it up, just as a tear fell from your cheek. Clichéd almost, it fell on the top, and you had to laugh, lovingly putting it back in its case. You finally turned off the DVD player, placing the remote exactly where you had found it, the DVD clutched tightly in your hand. The TV was next and you picked up your blanket, throwing it over your shoulder. 

 

Time for bed...

 

Your feet made the familiar slapping sound on the bare wooden floor, the cold seeping up into your soles. It was a short walk through the hallway to your room, no need for a light, since you had lived here for the latter half of your life. 

 

It wasn't like you were ever going to leave it either. 

 

You didn't need a light for your room. You knew what it looked like. 

 

A sheet-less, stained bed, thrown on the floor, with a pillow that was almost flat but provided the only real color to the room. The window above it still had the fake flower curtains, the large crack in the window threatening to give in more every moment. Your closet was to the right, holding all the threadbare things you could cobble together. You walked over to it, digging under the two loose floor boards, trying not to catch yourself again. 

 

Under it was your stash. 

 

Six DVDs, all of the same group. A poster that you would never dare put up. A small key chain. It was your memory stash...of things that never happened. You gently pushed the DVD under, laying on top of the rest, in perfect order.

 

You replaced the boards, checking to see if they where straight. After you got up, hearing your knees groaning from the moment. You stepped over a few of your clothes, which were strewn about, and landed squarely on top of your bed, face down into the pillow. You let the tears come now, it would be a while before he would be back. There was no threat of being overheard. 

 

This night was one of the ones you let the happier memories come first: the smiles, the hand holding, the love. It made you cry that much harder. You shouldn't, but you held these close to your heart. 

 

The spinning in your head was getting harder now, and you felt exhaustion overwhelming you. You head hurt, your eyes hurt, everything hurt. 

 

You tucked your arms around your head to give your head some more cushion. It wasn’t much, but it worked and you fell asleep to the thoughts of an old friend.

 

Kim Joon Myun.