Excerpt from the journal of Jung Daehyun

Kris wasn’t much of an artist.

He made roosters look like mole rats and turned hybrid unicorn dragons into bloated, pregnant, yet oddly cute little things that spurred laughter from anyone who took a look at his drawings. Despite all the practice and time invested in a dream he hoped would one day separate him from the stringent army brat lifestyle he loathed, Kris was just not cut out to be a part of a world filled with art galas and museums.

“What you cooking?” Because fate had a way of grooming one’s talents in accordance to what was most vital in drawing a loved one near.

“It’s the calories Tuesday, remember?” Destiny, however confusing and irrelevant it may be in the eyes of true realist, provided hints, clues and missing pieces of a puzzle that suggested the stars were aligning, and the galaxy was only ever limited to two: One who cooked like a world-renowned chief and the other who would dedicate his life to food if he could.

Daehyun put on quite the act of composure when he entered the kitchen of the three-bedroom apartment Kris and the other’s called home. “So, you’re making spaghetti?” He was overtly joyful, oddly enthusiastic and eagerly seeking for a distraction he found in a ladle and a pot of tomato sauce. And perhaps playing Kris as a fool had always been Daehyun’s downfall - that underestimating him was a cry for help Daehyun himself made sure never went unnoticed. 

“Yeah, the more starchy calories the better.” Kris tilted a bowl of milk and other powdered ingredients in the process of being mixed toward him. “Making Cheesecake for you, as well as Tiramisu for Xiumin and chocolate scones for Tao.”

“You’re going to cook burgers too, right? the calories Tuesday won’t be complete without milkshakes and heart-attack worthy burgers.”

A smile marred Kris’s lips. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t be living up to my life’s goal of putting you on a stretcher if I didn’t add burgers to the menu.” And just like any joke he tried to make, Kris stopped what he was doing just to deliver the very unnecessary punch line. “Y’know, because burgers are suppose to give you a heart attack.”

 “Didn’t I tell you not to point out the obvious? Damn, you at telling jokes. “ Daehyun rolled his eyes, the boy laughing despite himself. It didn’t last long though. It seemed the fires of duplicity had yet to be tamed when an abrupt silence took over the small kitchenette they stood in

“Silence is just as telling as words better left expressed.”

Daehyun kept his eyes on the contents he stirred, not once sparing a glance in Kris’s direction. “And they say prying into business better left in the dark is as deadly as poking an untamed lion with a stick.”

The ping of the oven saved Daehyun from one of the many responses that would’ve successfully combated his prorogating reply. Kris walked passed him to retrieve the deer shaped cookies Luhan despised due to the inside joke that trigger a torrent of ‘ yous’ whenever embarrassing past events were brought up. It never failed to put a smile on Daehyun’s face upon seeing them, and as much as Kris wanted nothing more than to keep the atmosphere as light and as ‘problem-free’ as possible, tolerating a mask just couldn’t be done.

“You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t expect an interrogation.” Kris outwardly stated with a calming air about him as he set the cookies on the cooling rack. “You know me better than to hope for a quiet evening, especially after hearing you on the phone.”

Maybe calling Kris for his whereabouts right after dealing with Yongguk was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. Maybe he was stupid to think he could get out of explaining emotions that were scrambled and unorganized much like the jigsaw puzzles he never bothered figuring out. He could be difficult. Daehyun could approach Kris’s passive aggressive way of drawing out information by verbally attacking him in every way he knew how. But what was the sense of that when on the inside he knew, the only reason why he came to Kris in the first place was to get the answers that were buried deep in the yoda mind-ery that revealed more than it led on.

“I want to stab Yongguk in the chest, cut off every limb on his body, nail his arms and legs on my bedroom wall and feed his innards to his demon dog.”

 “Talk about being subtle.”

“What’s there to be subtle about? Getting even isn’t something you execute lightly.” He said with the same measured tone of resentment.

“So it’s going to be a toss up, is that it?”

“Toss up?” And initiate a level one mind-ery that was slowly making its way up the ladder of difficulty.

“Toss of the coin…a fifty-fifty decision on whether or not you’ll stay or go.”

Daehyun turned away from the simmering pot and slouched back against the stove with a heated sigh. “Oh no, you don’t need to explain yourself at all,” he said with a trill of sarcasm. “I understand your mind-ery just fine.”

Kris chuckled softly to himself as he tended to the batter just about ready for its place in the oven. “Obviously, by the tone of your voice and your morbid choice of revenge, Yongguk ed you over. He did something to piss you off and you’re on a mission to find the deciding factor that’ll determine your decision on whether or not the game you’re playing with him is worth your time.” Daehyun’s inability to look him straight in the eye immediately gave the impression he wasn't far from the truth. “Daehyun,” The timer was set, his prep-work was stowed away in their respective kennels, and now he directed his attention solely on the man who refused to look up at him.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t be your deciding factor this time around. I can’t give you an unbiased answer.”

“Really?” He invaded his personal space with one step taken and an arm held in his possession. Daehyun’s grip tightened around Kris’s wrist, his imploring frustrations emitting from fingers that coiled around him. “That’s all you have to say? You don’t even know what happened. You don’t even know what’s going on. You didn’t even try to with my head with your stupid riddles and your mind-ery. You’re just going to look the other way? You’re just going to leave me confused like this?”

 “Daehyun,” Kris placed a light hand over the unyielding grip that wouldn’t let him go, the gentleness of his caressing fingers easing his hold on him as Daehyun met his gaze. “What is this really about? What’s the real issue here?”

He was mad at Yongguk. He was pissed off he took the only thing that ever mattered to him. He was frustrated, angry and upset that the sorry excuse for a love-stricken bastard would profess so much and yet fall short on actions that didn’t live up to his promises. But what did he expect out of a man who was ensnared in the web of lies Daehyun spun with his own two hands?

Extracting his hand out from beneath Kris’s fingers, Daehyun backed himself into the stove and buried his face into his palms. He took in a deep shuddering breath only to expel his built-in frustrations that were working on igniting a fire in his chest.

“I-I’m…I’m…” His eyes were burning, tears hot and scalding threatening to escape him with every second he took to try to calm himself down. He wasn’t a man who fell at the mercy of self-pity, nor did he see a reason for unnecessary signs of weakness to show itself in the face of desperation. Laughing, despite how unconvincing those trills of self-preservation may be, made it easier to uncover his face with only a glistening reminder of the emotions he couldn’t stow away. He didn’t cry, he didn’t allow tears to fall, but they were there, hopelessness b at the corners of his eyes. “I’m losing everything, Kris. And I know it’s not worth it. I know doing what I’m doing is just digging me into an even bigger hole than the one I’ve already created, but there’s nothing else now. There’s nothing and no one else but Yongguk. He’s all I have to remedy the mistakes I’ve made.”

One way or another Yongguk’s secrets, his sister’s secrets and every other secret that lured him to a family of wealth and power were going to save him. He didn’t know how, when or why he thought good fortune would follow the secrets he’ll soon uncover, but he knew in his gut that he couldn’t stop with the deception just yet.

 “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m here, aren’t I?” Kris’s reminder didn’t make it easy to accept the arms that took him into a comforting embrace. “You’ve always had me, right? Unless I'm just a figment of your imagination.” Daehyun stood motionlessly in the all-encompassing warmth that brought him close; the gesture left unreciprocated slowing the rampant beat of his heart and the thoughts that wouldn’t be put to rest.

“You might as well have been a figment of my imagination since you didn’t even want to me.” He may have been a little tipsy the day Kris saved him from spending a night behind bars, but he remembered the rejection that left him guessing. “If you want me like this damn bracelet suggest you do, you would’ve ed me that night.” Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t upset. In fact, the frail response suggested that of the opposite: he just didn’t care anymore. “I imagined that night time and time again. I wondered what would’ve happened if you just took advantage of the situation instead of walking my around town until I was too tired to give a damn about the arrangement we made.”

“It wasn’t what you wanted and you know that.”

A chuckle slipped passed him. “And you always just seem to know what I need and want.” Daehyun pulled away to take his place back against the stove that put Kris at arm’s length. It wasn’t sarcasm that weaved itself into a single observation built on facts collected over years of friendship, but it was simply a leveled note of appreciation. “But I don’t know what to do anymore. I had one chance to get the internship of my dreams, but Yongguk took it away from me. He ripped it out of my hands and all I have to show for getting back at him was a black eye.” Giving Yongguk a well-deserved right hook resolved nothing and gave him absolutely nothing in return. Pain was all that was left to inflict on a man who took everything he worked for, but leave it to Kris to nullify his true intentions to vent and curse the name he wanted nothing more than to forget.

“Everything will work itself out. It always does for you.”

Daehyun went back to stirring the pot of tomato sauce with a sigh of acquiescence. “Yeah, I guess.” They went back to the laborious task of making a meal that everyone will soon regret after feeling the pains of a self-induced ‘kanak attack’. He didn’t want to pull Kris into another one of his problems when he probably had other things to worry about. Keeping it light, keeping the atmosphere filled with nonsensical jargons about day-to-day life and forgetting about Yongguk, even if it was only for a moment, seemed most appropriate for the time being.

“So, you imagined that night we were supposed to time and time again?”

Daehyun laughed at the slight stab to his ego. “Oh sure,” syllables were drawn out in his effort to emphasize the sarcasm in his agreement. “I totally had wet dreams about you and everything.” Daehyun shot a glare at the man who began flipping burgers on the portable grill he had bought him on his birthday, Kris’s cheeky little grin soon met with a smarmy smile of his own.  “Don’t even get me started with the way you with your derp faces.” And to commemorate a wet dream that didn’t happen, Daehyun pulled out his phone to send him the derp face he referred to. “The way you seduced me with your ‘I know you want the ‘D’’ smile. Can’t forget that even if I tried.

    ↬ Picture Uploading . . .

Kris only took but a brief glance at the file that was sent to his phone before that same complacent grin provoked another 'version 2' derp battle that was long since overdue. Daehyun went through his folders and sent yet another classic derp of all derps that nearly made him want to cry. “You didn’t believe me at first when I waved you over to the bed,” he sent another photo:

    ↬ Picture Uploading . . .

“But you soon got the ‘’ of things and realized you were going to get what you wanted.”

    ↬ Picture Uploading . . .

Throwing innuendoes was the name of the ‘Best Friends Forever’ trade. It came with the BFF territory, the jibes that were made and the ‘low blows’ that were had a very defining moment in a relationship that wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the pictures that brought laughs and eventually brought them together.

“Good one.” Kris halfheartedly commented as he looked through his own phone for the combo breaking picture that had always put Daehyun in his place. “But you really don’t want to start this war again, Daehyun.”

A taunting chuckle sounded across the room with plates clattering as Daehyun began setting the dining table. “The war has already begun, Kris. All you have to do is give up or wave the white flag of your surrender.”

Either way, he was going to lose.

“You talk a big game,” Kris joined him at the table, his smile as derisive as Daehyun’s own. “But I guess it’s expected of you, seeing as you have such a big appetite for victory.”

    ↬ Picture Uploading . . .

“What an . I told you to delete that.” It was in these moments that he grew to appreciate what he thought he’d never had the chance to experience again. Their friendship and the relationship they shared, it was as important as the bracelet that hung from his wrist. “See if I have another wet dream about you again.”

Kris was just about ready for another round of frivolous banter when the clearing of a throat turned their attention to the group who decided to go all ninja on their asses by sneaking up on them.

“Daehyun!” Tao caught him in a bear hug of excitement. “You’re here!”

“Jeez, Tao.” Chen laughed at the display of affection only the loving and overtly clingy panda could ever be capable of. “You just saw him two days ago.”

“Just leave Tao be.” Xiumin said as he entered the kitchen. “Apparently, by the talk of wet dreams, Daehyun needs some loving.” 

“You guys are all !” Daehyun struggled to belt out between the smothering he recieved. 

“Speaking of ,” Xiumin looked around the room. “Where’s Mr. -head himself?”

“Luhan’s probably driving around or spending the night at a friend’s place.” Lay offered with a suspicious look about him that, luckily for him, went unnoticed. “We should start dinner without him.”

Xiumin pumped an excited fist in the air. “Hells yeah! the calories Tuesday. The best day ever, with a close second being fat belly Fridays.”

With all the bi-weekly ‘holidays’ they had the pleasures of indulging in, it was but a miracle they weren’t sporting muffin tops, flabs for arms and a pair of thunder thighs by now. May it be the blessing of a fast metabolism or the recreational activities they were forced to partaken in, their trim figures made it all the more easier  to sit at the table and prepare to dig into one of Kris’s greatest master pieces.

“Lay,” Kris however needed to postpone his meal for the time being. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” No one had the chance to question the elusive meeting. Lay had stood up and joined Kris in the private quarters of his bedroom.  

“Is something wrong?” Lay asked with a mild look of concern.

“It’s time.”

“There’s no other alternative?”

“No, there isn’t an alternative.”

Lay had been dreading this moment ever since Kris first discussed the possibility of a necessary ‘take down’ a day prior to the basketball game where a threat was proposed. For someone as complicated as Kris, the terms that were laid out on the court for Yongguk to take heed of were surprisingly simple: Win, and there won’t be a need of getting in between a game Daehyun didn’t want him interfering in the first place. However, lose and Kris promised to become an opposing player until every dirty trick in the book wiped Yongguk out of Daehyun’s life for good.

 “So, what are we going to do?”

The answer to Lay’s question laid in the duffle bag Kris neatly tucked away in a hallowed compartment in his wall for safekeeping. A laptop shattered beyond repair was the first item that was handed to him, Lay recognizing it almost immediately. “This is Yongguk’s laptop. It was the one Daehyun stole. How did you get this? And why does it look like it went through a war?” The screen was barely hanging on its hinge, wires and its inner gizmos and gadgets falling through the gaping hole where the keyboard should’ve been. Its USB ports were missing, he couldn’t see if the motherboard was still intact thanks to the pieces of glass and debris that were in the way. In short, it was a wreck, and he wasn’t sure if he had the technological prowess to retrieve whatever it was Kris was looking for.

“How I got it doesn’t matter. I just want to know if you can try to give me every bit of information that’s on that computer.”

“It’ll take some time, but I want to know why you want to shut him down.”

‘I have to breathe.’

“Jesus ing christ, and here I thought I was the blind one! Everyone’s ramming into me. Do I have to shank a ?!”

‘I have to calm down.’

“Get your together. Walk faster. What do you think this is? A stroll down lane?”

‘I just need to think.’

“Earth to , you understand what I’m saying or are you too dumb to –”

When thoughts are disturb and the foundation of his sanity cracks under the pressure of debauchery, there’s no telling what will come out of an already unstable mind. “Stop! Just stop it!” Unlike the boundless planes of a limitless sky, patience – a feeling that only ever made him feel grounded - was far from never-ending. “I had enough! I’m trying! I’m really trying but you’re making it hard to continue!” Youngjae’s sense of calm had left him minutes after leaving the cafe, its wickedness escaping for all to hear as the roaring mammoth of vexation took its place. “I’m done! I’m not doing this anymore! I know you mean well. I know you’re trying to help me but I won’t stand here and degrade myself by putting up with your…your…” Was there any way to refrain himself from stooping to Luhan's level? “I’m just not going to put up with your anymore.”

He wanted the masses to consume him. He wanted to be but another face in the crowd of people whose success, drive and ambition made his own objectives obsolete. There was nothing going on for him. There wasn’t a good enough reason to be in Busan, and yet Youngjae saw an escape in a city he could lose himself in with each step he took. All he had to do to find his safe haven was walk away from the one person who was stupid enough to restrain him.

“I’m not taking off this ing blindfold.” Luhan’s grip was absolute; his need to keep Youngjae by his side creating a tension that suffocated them both. “So I advise your stubborn to stop being an emotional and keep walking.”

“No.” If Luhan thought Youngjae was unable to meet the criteria of being a smart, self-sufficient man, the blond was terribly mistaken. “You don’t want to take off that blindfold, that’s your problem.” He wasn’t going to bite his tongue and obediently play along with a purposeless endeavor any longer. There was nothing to gain; therefore he saw no reason to keep up with the charade. “I’m through. I’m sorry Luhan, but I can’t do this.”

With a determine tug of his arm Youngjae left behind the only person who only ever had his best interest at heart. However questionable and cruel his actions may be, Luhan’s intentions were pure and omitted of the poisons that came with greed and selfishness. He should’ve been appreciative of the attention he normally was deprived of. He should’ve been accepting and open to the unconventional treatment of concern that left him more frustrated than he was relieved. But he ran away from it. Much like his relationships, he placed a cloud of doubt over those who cared for but, with Luhan being the exception, he made every attempt to keep what little support he had close.

‘Maybe I should go back.’ He blew up on him with good reason. Luhan deserved the abandonment he might as well have placed upon himself. He couldn’t look back now after what he said, or everything he’d express thus far would hold no validation of the truth. He didn’t give a damn. Luhan’s method to make him feel better (if that was even the goal) was stupid and full of the kind of Luhan’s guttered mouth always seem to dish out.  As difficult as it was to fight his will to move forward, Youngjae stop to look back at the gaping distance that should’ve separated him from the blond he turned his back on.

But he wasn’t there.

Luhan didn’t wait for the heat of his tantrum to cool down. What was supposed to be some kind of test didn’t come to fruition because Luhan was as impatient as Youngjae was. Just when Youngjae was about to continue to follow the flow of commuters to the subway, Luhan had shuffled his way out of an alley to only return to the spot where he had left him. His arms were stretched out in front of him, fingers spread apart and his movements desperate to find anything that would guide him down the beaten path Youngjae had taken. He was cursing out Youngjae’s name in a repetitive manner that reminded him of a broken record skipping on repeat, but instead of holding that same tune, the volume of his voice rose dangerously loud from his fervor.

Youngjae would’ve made him suffer. He would’ve made him wait. What he should’ve done was savor the moment of stubbornness that put Luhan in a very awkward situation. But he kept walking. Luhan started straying from the safety of the sidewalk and headed toward incoming traffic with his blindfold still on. 

“Luhan!” He couldn't hear him. “Luhan stop!" Youngjae couldn't get to him. "Luhan!”  He rammed passed the crowd and did everything he could to save him, but no matter how determined he was to stop him from killing himself over a stupid life lesson, the deafening sound of horns filling the streets practically made his heart stop. Tires screeched, the concern, mortified faces of bystanders who stared at the terrible scene that unfolded stripped his face of color and tightened his chest. 

“Luhan!” Youngjae found the blond lying on the ground by the time he got to him. Blood spattered his arm and face where the side of his head had rebounded against the floor. Luhan wasn’t moving, he couldn't respond to the desperate calling of his name, and the more Youngaje tried to wake him, the more tears gathered in his eyes. He just laid on the asphalt, motionless and without any intention of removing the stupid blindfold that was to blame for it all. “I’m sorry." Why did he have to be so stupid? "I’m so sorry." Why couldn’t Luhan's desire to help him reflect every insult that attempted to push him away? "I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Youngjae was paralyzed from the neck down, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to comprehend how everything came to be. It started with tears, began with the aches, the pain and the heartbreak that ensnared Luhan to implicit promises and an unfathomable need to be by his side until a sense of calm casted overhead. Luhan had stayed with him the night he raided his fridge, spoke about random instances in his past life that cleared Youngjae’s head of the realities of a loveless relationship. He may have kicked him out of his own bed that night, cussed and insulted the time away and criticized him more times than he could count, but unlike the man who fed him a fairytale future through promises unfulfilled, Luhan made the effort to acknowledge the root of a problem that was slowly tearing him apart.

“Luhan.” He didn’t have to help him. “L-Luhan?” The problems that drove Youngjae to the brink of insanity wasn't his to fix. “Lu.” But he was there nevertheless, and Youngjae was so sorry he didn't stand by him to the very end.

Youngjae couldn’t stop his mumbled apologizes. "I'm sorry, Luhan." His body shook so violently he could hardly take a hold of the strip of cloth that covered Luhan’s eyes. He reached out to him with the intention to rip the damn blindfold off of his face. But it couldn't be done. 

“You should be ing sorry.” Luhan wouldn't let him. “You know who else should be sorry?” The blond swatted his hand away with that same fiery attitude that put him on the floor to begin with. “That bastard who hit me and is about to get his balls separated from his , that's who.” Youngjae was so flabbergasted by the sudden recovery that he hadn’t notice the bicyclist who was recovering from the collision until he had rushed over to check on the condition of his victim.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you." The man was flustered with worry. "Are you alright?”

“I’ll be alright when I shove my foot up your you son of a .” With Youngjae’s help, Luhan was able to pull himself shakily to his feet. 

“I’m so sorry. I –”

“It’s okay.” Youngjae hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but with an unmerited threat seconds away from putting an innocent man in the midst of danger, he apologized for Luhan’s stupidity and the brief exchange of 'I'm sorrys' eventually sent him on his way.

It was funny how a nagging pool of judgment didn’t drown him all at once. Luhan was expecting a tide of  “what the hell were you thinking?” with waves of curses following close behind. He even assumed Youngjae’s anger would finally strip him of the blindfold that, other than Luhan’s stubbornness, was to blame for the accident that occurred. But nothing happened. They continued through the throng of bodies as if a near death experience hadn’t occurred.

A light ring of a bell and the swooshing of sliding doors opening made Luhan question their next destination. A rush of cool air kissed his cheek, the roughness of the pavement beneath his feet transitioning to floorboards sleek and polished like linoleum tiles one would fine in a marketplace. They came and went, purchasing a few items at the counter and traveling east. Nothing was said throughout their commute.

Luhan could hear sniffling here and there, but not anything else worth commenting on.

It wasn’t until they were sitting on what he assumed was a bench did a blood-curdling scream shot Luhan’s arm out of Youngjae’s grasp. “You !”

The way Youngjae deviously pressed a piece of gauze soaked with alcohol onto his open wound was borderline sadistic. But he figured, since his non-confrontational personality couldn’t initiate the physical punishment he deserved, figuratively rubbing ‘salt’ in his wounds had to suffice. Youngjae aggressively grabbed at the arm that tried to evade yet another attack of the swab that made him whine like a little . 

“Stop it you damn psycho! It ing hurts!”

“Good!” Youngjae venomously shot back with a booming quality in his voice. “I hope the second helping is as painful as the first.” A downpour of alcohol left Luhan in the unmerciful hands of a raging lunatic who was so fed up with the nature of spontaneity and stupidity, he used up half the bottle thinking eight fluid ounces of antiseptics would equat to eight times the pain he hope to inflict.  

“Motherer!” Luhan hissed, the desire to punch Youngjae in the face not enough of an incentive to rid himself of the blindfold that made getting up a vain attempt. “I told you to stop pouring that on –”

“And I told you to stop being stupid! But did you listen to me? Of course you didn’t because you’re too bigheaded to look beyond your dull-witted logic to even consider other people’s opinions.” He tried to make sense of a trip that made corded emotions furiously unwind into a disorderly heap of self-confliction and self-doubt. Youngjae couldn’t tame the rapid beat of his heart, couldn’t cool the tempers of his anger nor control himself when he bounded to his feet to tower over him.

“ing spare me the tears.” Luhan said coolly, clearly unaffected by the tremulous deliverance of emotions he cared less about. “You’re pathetic! You’re a damn nancy in disguise who parades around like a ing saint when you, and the rest of the reasonable populous of the world, knows you’re nothing but a worthless piece of who’s as dirty as the rest of the s bending over to make a buck.”  The truth burned like fire and brimstone, its scalding embers provoking Youngjae to push beyond the limits of contentment by crossing over to a world filled with self-derision and self-contempt. “You’re blinded by a love that doesn’t exist. You’re blinded by promises that will never be kept and a hope no one, not even that bastard you call a lover, will ever fulfill. You’re blind, Youngjae! You’re blind as and even through those little moments of clarity, you just can’t see how ing damaging your relationship with that -er really is.” It was only when those enflamed fields of hatred withered and wasted away was Youngjae able to see the purest form of spite that waged a war in Luhan’s eyes. He stood up, removed the blindfold, and the single step he suddenly took toward him enforced Youngjae to step back.

“That you’re better off getting rid of is dead weight.” Why was the world against them? “He’s as blind as you are but he doesn’t give a .” Why was it so hard for everyone to accept a relationship that was as complicated and difficult to understand as love itself? “He doesn’t give two-s about the difficulties you have to go through to stay by his side because he knows you’ll always be there to give him the piece of he thinks he owns. How much times do I have to tell you that until it gets through your ing skull?” Youngjae shook his head, trying to ignore what he couldn't deny.  “Can't you see? He slows you down and holds you back just as I did at the metro.” He kept thinking, kept on reminding himself of the reasons why he loved Himchan and why he stayed with him despite everything he'd gone through. Youngjae wanted to accept he couldn't live without him because bringing himself to realize what Luhan was saying was true hurt more than enduring the pains of a relationship that couldn’t be repaired. “You’ll always fight with yourself. You’ll always be conflicted with your dumb emotions because you are too much of a to take the leap and leave the blinded motherer behind.” There were just so many steps he could take until the world was unable to spare the mere centimeter he needed to make an escape.

He looked up to the sky just as his back hit the fence, Youngjae repressing each aching sigh that made it hard to hold back the tears that rimmed his eyes. “Just stop. Please, just –”

“I’ll stop when you stop being a delusional , because if you keep this up any longer, it’ll be too late. Eventually, someone will walk away and leave the other behind, and when that happens, someone will seriously get hurt.”  

Youngjae shook his head, unable to fathom the feelings or the thoughts that conflicted within him. “It doesn’t matter.” Weak and thready was the response that nearly carried off with the wind. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“What the hell do you mean it doesn’t matter!?”

“It just doesn’t matter anymore?!” He yelled, the outburst raising Luhan’s blood pressure to a considerable degree. "You don't understand. You just don't understand."

"Then tell me!" Luhan grabbed him by his shirt collar and slammed him further back against the fence. "Tell me what the I don't understand!"

All at once he fell apart. The remaining pieces of his heart was left in slivers on the floor, discarded and abandoned without a care to put them back together again. “I won’t see Himchan again. I can’t see him again, and the worst part of everything is: it’s not Himchan that I’ll miss the most when Daehyun means more to me than anyone I’ve ever known.” He was at a breaking point, his knees unable to withstand the weight of a secret that dragged him to the floor. “I can’t even look at him. I can’t even talk to him because I don’t know what to say. He’s my best friend and I couldn’t tell him. I-I just couldn’t tell him.”

“What the are you saying?” Luhan couldn’t even begin to interpret the words that fell as heavily, and just as mournfully as the tears that streaked down Youngjae’s cheek. “Oh my ing god. Are you saying you’re in love with Daehyun?”

“No." He hid his face into the palms of his hands, shaking his head over and over  again. "It’s not that.”

“Then what the is it?”