Lecture halls remained empty. No student occupied the seats while not a single professor held a dry erase marker in between her or his calloused fingers.  The heavy snow had covered everything on campus; it stuck to remaining cars, even to the roofs of the residential halls. Everyone had left the campus for winter break which left Jongin all alone. He had to admit that it had been lonely, but Jongin was never one to go out if he didn't have to, and today wasn’t an exception as huge snowflakes continued to twirl around in the gusts of wind. Since no one had been on the campus except for a few professors and Jongin, he treated himself a break from studying for finals as he rested on his bed, tucked into the sheets. It had been recently that his headache stopped as it also been almost a month since Sehun’s unexpected death.

Jongin thought he had been standing up straight, but when his eyes could visibly see the color drain from Sehun’s lips, he knees had given way. At the time, he didn’t know what to do. Paranoia slowly began to eat away at his mind and slowly Jongin fell into pure fear. Thoughts he would’ve never let slip past his inner voice diluted his exploding mind. Jongin struggled to keep from thinking about Sehun, who still was on the ground, but when he felt like he was forced to stare at his friend's limp body, Jongin had cracked; as if two pieces of him clashed together.

The body. What do I do with the body?

"No Jongin. No. What the , he's not a body; he's your friend!"

The body. I have to hide it before someone sees and thinks I killed him!

"I did not. He's still alive and this isn't ing happening!"

No. Someone's headed up the stairs as if they're in a rush. I'm going to be convicted. They're going to take Sehun away and bury him and I'm the one to blame for everything.

"No. nothing's happening and I'm not ing losing my goddamn mind!" Jongin bellowed, panting. When finally his breathing slowed, there had been no footsteps in the white noise. There had only been Jongin's irregular breathing that filled the lonely silence as there were no sounds of life that came from Sehun.

It took a moment for Jongin to realize that it was just him standing in the middle of dorm. No sounds came from outside. Nothing came from the hallway that lingered just outside the wooden door. Everyone was asleep and Jongin was left alone to his thoughts that would do more than just keep him company. They would echo in his mind as they tormented him until his last breath or until a neighboring student smelled the pungent smell of blood that drifted throughout the small room. A painful hour slipped away and Jongin watched as three o'clock faded into four which stopped at 5:30 when his alarm went off like it had been just a normal day.

A bang rippled through the empty silence as it seemed to hit the glass of the floor window. The disrupting sound made Jongin loose his focus off his clock for only a brief second. But somehow it was enough. When Jongin looked down to the wet pavement from out the large window, his glassy eyes searched for the cause of the sound. There had been nothing. But when he mindlessly decided to look away, he felt a lack of presence. Not of himself, but rather someone else who had been in the room. A puddle of deep red was left behind in the room but Sehun's body was not.

Jongin let a week go by and the color from puddle still remained and he never bothered to clean it; or go near it for as long as he was still alive. Although he felt like the time he had remaining had been severely shortened. Ten days passed and Jongin shut the curtains. Fourteen days passed in a mere second and Jongin lay on his bed and watched the clock tick away. The numbers repeated and although the Jongin who was never scared was bored, the very fragile Jongin was stuck in the moment when his best friend was shot at four in the morning. And so Jongin still stared at the blinking clock as he lay on his side and waited for three to pass just so he could close his eyes just like Sehun.

No administrator tried to open his door as he or she didn't know that Jongin was still in there. Jongin stopped looking at the clock a week ago, and in fact he had gotten rid of it to save the remaining sanity he possessed. He couldn't bear to be reminded of that morning. To say that he moved on, though, was a horrible lie. He would still wake up in the middle of the night with his head pounding and a cold sweat sticking to his skin; he would call out Sehun's name only to be hit by the silence that was the empty bed to Jongin's right. And so Jongin remained in the dorm as if something kept him from leaving and never coming back. Jongin had concluded that he was still too shaken about the whole thing. And he was. He was scared someone on streets of Gangnam or on campus could say one word that could trigger his paranoia. So he locked himself up in the dorm and pledged he wouldn't come out until someone found him lying on the wooden floor, unmoving. Just as Jongin wanted his eyes to flutter shut an echo of a knock sounded in the dorm.

Jongin let the silence pass, but a short second later; the knocking returned. There were two knocks this time. Ruffling his unkempt hair, Jongin walked to the door. He barely had any time to let out a confused, “hello” before his visitor ignored Jongin and walked straight into the dorm. The boy, who changed his hair to a ginger orange, made himself comfortable as he sat on the bed that had been once Sehun’s.

“Lu…,” Jongin started as he turned around to face the boy. “Han,” Jongin finished as he scratched the top of his head. In that moment, Jongin let all thoughts pass him. He couldn’t say a word as he feverishly blinked at a rapid pace. Luhan, whom Jongin hadn’t spoken to since winter break had started, sat on Sehun’s bed….and he wore a plastered grin.

Luhan had stared out Jongin’s window which perplexed Jongin. There was nothing to see but darkness. Was Jongin missing something?

"Everything was fake, Jongin.” The boy still smiled, but barely.

“I- what?”

“Fake,” Luhan muttered again; this time his sad-looking eyes stared straight into Jongin’s.

“What was fake- Luhan what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in weeks, almost a goddamn month, and you come back like-"

“It was all a scheme,” Luhan cut off Jongin's rambling and stood up as he slowly paced towards Jongin, who now was more afraid than confused. “All I needed was a story; a track to follow if you will.” In an instant, Luhan's smile faded away. His face remained stoic.

Nothing made sense. The wires in Jongin’s messed up head weren’t aligned and it frustrated Jongin to no end. Was this the same kind-hearted Luhan Jongin met at the beginning of their freshman year? Of course, circumstances have changed drastically ever since Sehun was murdered. Had Luhan found out? Maybe somehow Luhan assumed that Jongin was the one who killed Sehun?  Jongin wondered if Luhan turned his back against him almost simultaneously.

“I was fake.”

Fake. That word remained etched in Jongin’s mind as he attempted to figure out what Luhan actually meant. How was Luhan fake?

“Tell me, Jongin,” Luhan began, his voice leaking with insincerity and blankness.

Tell them, Jongin.

"Sehun gave me a book before our freshman year in college. There had been a quote that stuck out to me. I think you’ve heard it before.” Luhan let out a small scoff as he closed his eyes like he was searching for something. His eyes popped open and Luhan took in a deep breath as his eyes glazed over. “Three may keep a secret, Jongin.”

“If two are dead,” Sehun muttered as his eyes scanned the page in front of him. He was hunched over the book with both of his hands propping his head up. It was two in the morning on a Monday. It was five days until their major exam and Jongin, Luhan, and Sehun were studying until they eventually passed out. Luhan was sitting cross-legged on Jongin’s bed; obviously listening to loud music as the background drums could be heard from his ear buds. Sehun was sitting, his back hunched over the desk. Jongin closed his eyes and tapped his foot to Luhan’s music, humming to the words that he couldn’t hear. He didn’t bother to study, as his headache still remained. He learned how to cover his pain. Jongin simply didn’t want people to ask him what had been wrong, because for the time being, he thought nothing was wrong at all.

“They say I'm pretty ed up in the head. I guess they're right." Luhan whispered.

Jongin wished that he couldn't understand Luhan's motives but if he didn’t, he would be lying to himself. It was all too clear. Their friendship and his kindness towards Jongin since the first day; Luhan was right. Everything was fake. What about the voice? Had that been Luhan's too or was it just something Jongin only imagined? Or his headache? Jongin remembered the water bottle Luhan offered to Jongin the first day. It was unopened until Jongin sipped from it. Did Luhan drug him? Jongin shook his head to shake those thoughts away. Luhan wasn’t that kind of person.

“Luhan, d-did you,” Jongin hesitated to even ask Luhan if he knew about the death of his best friend. Jongin’s eyes became watery at the thought of Sehun’s pale face. He couldn’t even look at Luhan without his mind associating him with Sehun. Since the day Jongin watched the two boys interact on the empty soccer field; they seemed to be almost the same person. They had been inseparable.

“Did I know about the murder of Sehun? Or did I kill him?” Luhan questioned Jongin, his voice slightly rising with each poisonous word he spat out. “The answer is yes,” He finally breathed out and went back to sitting on Sehun’s once unoccupied bed. Luhan looked out to the darkness through the window again.

Jongin wanted to scream, but alas he felt that his anger would only fed Luhan's motivation, so he kept quiet. Instead, Jongin grounded his teeth and watched as Luhan sat up and started to aimlessly wonder around the room; his eyes analyzing everything except for Jongin. Unlike their first meeting, Jongin knew Luhan came into the dorm with a sole purpose. The outcome of this, though, was uncertain.

"I don't understand. How could you kill your best ing friend?" Jongin spat back to Luhan. He felt like he should have felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who killed Sehun. But that wasn’t the case. Jongin felt angry; more than angry. In fact, he didn’t have time to reason. He couldn’t let the realization that Luhan killed Sehun process in his mind. Jongin had spent weeks mourning over his friend, and all that time he was blinded that it had been Luhan all along.

"He was a pest anyway. I've been meaning to get rid of him for a while. But then I ran into you, Kim Jongin, and everything became easier."

Jongin remained silent as he let Luhan’s words sink into his mind. Sehun. He was gone. Would his parents ever know? Sehun was gone as well as his body. Was Luhan twisted enough to hide the body as well? Or did he want to burn the evidence of his cruel and thoughtless murder?

"Where the did you take Sehun, you-" Jongin grabbed onto Luhan’s button down shirt and tugged on it angrily as if he had the urge to murder the red-haired boy, who despite Jongin's aggravated attitude, disregarded Jongin and stood on the area rug, and looked down as he pouted.

"Yixing sure is the clever one, you know...but you’re not." Luhan crossed his arms across his chest as he stepped off the rug and nudged it with his foot. The rug scooted across the wooden floor to show the deep red hidden beneath. Jongin felt the air in his lungs escape as he bore into Luhan's eyes. No. Luhan chuckled as he calmly walked towards the door. Before his hand gripped on the door knob, his menacing laughter came to a sudden halt.

“Three may keep a secret, Jongin,” His voice drifted as he waited for Jongin to finish his sentence. Jongin didn’t want to play this twisted game anymore, but in defeat, he let out a shaky sigh.

“If two of them are dead.”

“And tell me, Jongin, who’s dead?” Luhan asked Jongin as if he were sincerely curious, although the two already knew. Jongin knew where Luhan was heading with his game of his and Jongin didn’t hesitate when he spoke hopelessly.

“Sehun.”

“Who’s next?”

“Me.” Jongin spoke underneath his breath. No, he wasn’t going to die because of Luhan’s obsession with a quote. Jongin wasn’t going to live that way. He wasn’t going to let it end like this. He wasn’t going to let Luhan kill him because of the secret of their dead friend.

The desk lamp on the desk had caused something in Luhan’s back jean pocket to glisten. Jongin smirked as in what seemed to be a split second; he grabbed the knife out from Luhan’s jeans and gripped onto it. Before Luhan could stop him, Jongin plunged the sharp object deep into the center of Luhan’s back. Luhan let out a gasp, but Jongin silenced Luhan’s agonized screams when he pulled the knife out with a tug. Luhan let out a single cough of pure blood before his limp body dropped onto the same spot Sehun had died. Jongin let out a heartless scoff. Luhan was right. The secret of the death between Jongin, Luhan, and Sehun was only meant to be kept by one; Jongin.