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There he lay, his head over his folded hands and the pillow, wrapped in the warmth of the mattress and the white sheets along with another body beside him, eyes wide open, pointed to the white ceiling before the sun had even taken its place to rise in the east. His chest rose and fall at a steady pace but his insides were roiling. Guilt ate him from the inside out as he considered the events of the previous night as well as the whole situation at hand. He slept for a couple of hours, but woke up in the wee hours of the morning. Unlucky for him, sleep never visited his tired mind and those thoughts, though distant and relatively toothless, battered his consciousness.

Yi Xing turned to his side with a heavy sigh, his eyes straying to the sleeping figure of his girlfriend. He took his fill of her contours to his heart’s content, his fingers reaching over to push her brown hair to the other side of her head for him to have a better view of her face in the semi-darkness. He found himself smiling as his fingers trialed down to her lips, still raw from their little interlude before she fell asleep. It glided down to her bare shoulders and he became fully aware of her habit of sleeping with just a pair of boxers and her brassier, constantly complaining of sweating when she wakes up in the morning. He marveled at how tiny she was next to him, snug and peaceful as she clutched on the blanket.

She stirred and he withdrew his hand, not really wanting her to wake up too early as was her routine whenever she was visiting him in Korea. He wanted to hold her close, but instead, he grimaced and turned away, shaking his head. He was torn between feeling good and bad. Most of his good feelings radiated from the fact that she was near again, staying for more than a week this time and the success of his band. He felt bad because with the success came the utter lack of time for personal life, for his girlfriend and his family, but he couldn’t do anything because he chose to be where he was, in the limelight, under the close watch of the public.

He sighed. His girlfriend flew all the way from Germany a few weeks ago, but he couldn’t even have the decency to join her for dinner. It was always the case wherein he would be asking for forgiveness for being late, never wanting to promise her anything because he was afraid he’d just break it. He always saw her early in the morning, asleep or late at night, tired, but still smiling at him, telling him he understood. Instead of comforting her, she was the one doing all the effort. Still, she seemed content about seeing him at the end of each and every day regardless of his state…or hers.

At times, he’d think of letting her go, thinking she deserved better, but whenever he sees a glimpse of her in his thoughts, his thoughts would be suppressed by the uncertainty whether he could survive life without her. He doubted himse