*Two months later*

Kyungsoo's POV 

I laid under the big oak tree in the school's courtyard. It was in the middle of October and the sky was blue with clumps of white cotton ball-like clouds. Or maybe like stripes of white poop. Oh well. Doesn't matter.

I was already in my second year, with almost half of my high school time over. I thought that attending an arts high school would be exciting, but I soon realized it was just like every other school, except that I studied music and song writing at a higher level. Which meant that I had more classes than a regular high school student. Why would you bother having math and physics when you're an arts student? I'm just saying.

I love music: it's as important as the need to breathe. Singing always gives me this free space, like I'm in a bubble, away from anything else.

I do get nervous standing on the stage but still it's my safe haven. I know that I'm good at this. Even though I might lack in other areas (I am NOT small! I have the average height of an Asian male! I don't know what kind of steroids the others have eaten but I'm not the small one here), I'm the best in singing. Well, at least I want to believe so.

It was very unusual for me to ditch class, but somehow today was different. I slipped off during the second period - I didn't feel like doing trigonometry today for an hour and a half, and I felt suffocated in that little classroom, like a cloud of anger and sorrow was rolling down on me. So here I was under the tree, looking at the clouds passing by, with my thoughts as my only company.

I thought back to this summer. It hadn't been different from all my other summers. I had gone to the sea with my cousins and stayed overseas for a week or two. Then, I had played music and chilled with my friends. 

Except for one little thing that differed: I had lost my best friend in a car accident. 

Thinking of this made my heart heavy and I found it difficult to breathe again. I pinched the bridge of my nose and told myself to take deep breaths. 

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. I leaned back on the tree. Just the thought of never seeing him again made my eyes sting.

"You're a man Kyungsoo. Men don't cry. Kai would punch you if you cried," I repeated for the hundredth time. I could feel my hands shake and clasped them together, closing my eyes.

I started to sing. I always have had difficulties expressing my feelings through words - it was Kai that encouraged me to start singing, to find another outlet for expression. I soon found out that I actually was good at it. The burdens I always had in my chest and on my shoulders seemed to smoulder away when I belted out melodies.

Yet, it can never take away the pain I feel whenever I think about Kai. At the very least, it can soothe it down to a dull sting in the chest