Crouched in a corner, tears were running down his cheeks constantly as he listened to his mother's spiteful words. He didn't understand. Even though the poison in her voice and the anger wrapped around her words like ivy were not meant for him, he felt his chest clench with hurt and if truth be told, he thought it would hurt less if he were the one receiving the insults of all kinds his mother spit out.

He never meant to listen in on his parents arguing. He truly would rather sleep cuddled beside his brother, however nightmares about falling and never reaching ground chased sleep from his eyes. He had heard his father's voice coming from the kitchen and full of delight, he got up and raced there.

He had stopped midway once he heard his mother. His father was supposed to return only the following week and his early return, he guessed, was also one of the reasons his mother fumed over. Whenever his father spoke, or attempted to speak, a small wave of relief washed over his shoulders because despite the rage his mother was oozing, he kept as calm as he possibly could.

He understood a bit, when in between other words he heard his father reproach the woman for “gambling” and “drinking too much”; he was suddenly sure the bottle of alcohol she had bought earlier that day wasn't there any more. When he heard glass break, tears flowed faster.

The light had been green for quite a while, Woohyun guessed, as the driver behind him was getting quite impatient. He shook the memories off, stepped on the pedal roughly, even the motor screeched disapprovingly, and the car moved forward.

Even when he had been released from his unpleasantly stinking custodial cell mere hours before, the momentary feeling of happiness had gone away within minutes. When he'd come home, no one had been there to welcome him back or to tell him that they knew it was going to be all right. (just like no one had been there for him the night his parents fought and saw each other for the last time)

Just a ton of messages from Howon, some from his secretary, some from the company's managers; somehow it seemed that they all had been eager to just usher him back to work as if nothing had even gone on. And so he took the car and was on his way to work again to get an overall picture of the state his company found itself in. Night was coming and he, thankfully, had plans for later on.

Among the messages there was one that made him smile a little. Howon had asked him for a night out, to which Woohyun gladly agreed.

He hadn't been out with someone for quite a while and he felt he could afford that luxury for one night.

“Let's put an end to this.” he heard his father say.

There was a pause; so long that it made Woohyun uncover his ears behind the door and listen in again. Then came a loud and rather hysterical laugh from his mother, who seemed not to believe the words she had heard.

“You want a divorce?” she asked, mocking his father, “What do you think you'll get from that? Do you want to get rid of the kids? Of me?” she asked then, laughter still erupting from .

Woohyun quickly closed his palms around the shells of his ears to block the words at least a bit. He still could hear everything.

“I want to get rid of all the trouble you've caused me so far. And I'll do my best to keep the boys with me.” he said, still keeping his calm composure.

As scared as he was, Woohyun for a split second imagined what it would be like to live with his father, and truly the idea of that was wonderful. Even though his father had always been a busy man, Woohyun was sure he'd be able to take care of them unlike his mother. It was only natural for children to pick their mother when being asked whom of their parents they liked more, however in Woohyun's case, if he was asked, he wouldn't know who to pick.

"If you want to take this to court then suit yourself.“ he heard the woman say, “You have nothing but your words against me. They won't leave the kids with you."

“You can't stop me from trying.“ his father said.

“As you wish then.”

His father disappeared that night. He and his brother saw him only after their mother had been arrested for what she'd done; more or less, they were entrusted to his care until the officials would consider her able to take care of them again, which never even happened as she'd taken her life away even before she was released and the brothers, by then, were already of age.

Their father had never talked of that night and Woohyun didn't wonder why. His brother never asked. The man later disappeared from their lives and they never said anything against it as it was his own decision and they, as his children, respected it.

His brother had gone to the States soon after and so Woohyun was by himself. He never minded; if truth be told, he prefered solitude over the company of other people. Most of the time.

The inscribed numbers his fingers lightly traced felt cold under his touch.

August 22nd 2003.

Ten years was a long while, yet in his memory the day was still so vivid as if it happened just the day before. He didn't cry any more. People died every day and their families mourned them every day; he concluded there was no need for more tears in the world.

Occasionally, one or two drops of sad memories would roll down his cheek. Only when no one was looking.

Wide grin was spread on his face like butter on bread as he watched his brother sleep with his mouth open. He was just reaching out to pinch his nose and have some fun, when a warning came from the passenger's seat at the front.

“Stop making fun of your brother and fasten your seatbelt properly, Sungyeol.” his mother ordered, small smile hinted in her voice.

He stuck his tongue out at her when she wasn't looking, but did as he was told. The ride was going to be long, he knew, because his grandparents lived at the countryside. For him it meant four hours of boredom in the car and constant bouncing due to the barely maintained roads. Nonetheless, he was already looking forward to his grandmother's pancakes.

He was just about to fall asleep and the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes, was his father quickly planting a small kiss on his mother's cheek before returning his attention back to the road. He smiled happily and silently prayed to find someone he'd love as much as his parents loved each other.

Screeching of tires followed almost immediately and his mother's scream engraved itself deep in his memory.

He often caught himself thinking of that day; he thought of it more than was probably considered healthy. The way he still felt shreds of glass hit his arms as he had tried to protect his face, the way fear and shock danced together in his brother's eyes, the way he saw hi