“5 years.”

Chanyeol blinked, snapping back to reality. “That expensive?”

The man in front of him nods, holding out the electronic dial, showcasing the neon lights that flashed 5 repetitively. Chanyeol looked at him, and then back at the diamond band resting in between his thumb and index finger, his own green light dial blinking in the midst of daybreak.

“Alright.” He sighs, holding out his arm for the store clerk to scan his arm. The device hovered over Chanyeol’s dial, zapping 5 years away from the blinking lights on his arm. He exits the store, jumping into his car and converging into the driveway.

Chanyeol sped up on the highway, letting the wind brush against his slightly long hair. He has been saving up for the past few years, and today would finally be the day he’d propose.

He is interrupted from his thoughts when he hears his phone ring, slowing down to reach over for the device. He places it against his ear, smiling as soon as he heard the voice.

“Kyungsoo.” He hums, seeing the converging traffic on ahead. The voice on the other line chuckles, breathy enough to form a melody in Chanyeol’s ears. “Hey.”

“Why’d you call?” He asks, still smiling as he comes to a full stop in front of the crowd of cars in front of a red stoplight. There’s a small pause before Kyungsoo replies. “Nothing, I wanted to ask what time you were coming home.”

“I’m on my way.” Chanyeol chimes, stepping on the engine once again as the cars started to move forward. The sun slowly began to set, bathing the sky with the last of its illumination. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Kyungsoo says with a chirp, making Chanyeol smile even more. “It’s a secret, wait for it when I get back home.”

“You’re so lame.” Chanyeol couldn’t see it, but he knew Kyungsoo was frowning. He could imagine his heart shaped lips slanting downwards, his bright eyes half-closing. “Don’t frown.”

“How do you even know if I’m frowning or not.” Kyungsoo says with a laugh, enough for Chanyeol to bring back his old expression. He speeds up once he hits an empty road, gliding unto the pavements with his car.

“I just know.” Chanyeol sings, slowing down as he nears his neighborhood.

There was silence, and Chanyeol prayed that his lover would speak some more. He loved hearing his voice, even if it was just a one-sided conversation.

“Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol replies, his heart practically singing.

“How many years do you have left?”

Chanyeol pauses, slowing down before he entered the driveway. “I’ve got a lot.”

Kyungsoo didn’t seem satisfied, persisting on the specific details. “I meant, how many years.”

Chanyeol sighs, turning his face unto the neon lights implanted unto his right arm. “I’ve got enough—“

“—Chanyeol, I’m just asking you how many years you have left. You keep on buying stuff for me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Chanyeol remains silent, hand still gripping unto the steering wheel. His heart feels heavy when the situation donned unto him, the 5 years taken off of his life just minutes before. “Even if I time out, I’m going to find you—“

“—You know that never happens.” Kyungsoo quickly replies, his voice slowly losing its vibrancy. “When you time out, you’re going to be a different person, we all know that.” Kyungsoo’s voice lowers, lower than his usual. “Soon, you’ll belong to someone else—“

“—Don't say that.” Chanyeol immediately replies, half-groaning. “You’re different from everyone else.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, making Chanyeol grow impatient. “Just come back home soon.”

The line ends, making Chanyeol exhale the air he had held in his diaphragm. He looks out into the expanse of his garage, eyeing the door in doubt. He decides to get out of his car, entering the share house.

Kyungsoo was sitting on the sofa; body draped in a blanket a bit longer than his body. Through the darkness, only the measly light blaring from the television filled the room, along with the green dial that seeped through Kyungsoo’s blanket. Chanyeol read the numbers, noticing Kyungsoo had more years than usual.

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol says, immediately making Kyungsoo turn his head to the giant. He’s greeted with a half smile, squirming under the blanket. “Hey.”

“Where did you get those?”

Kyungsoo turns his attention to his dial, quickly covering it with his other hand. “Oh—I, the office gave me an advance—“

“Kyungsoo, I told you—“

“—I want to.” Kyungsoo cuts him off, averting his eyes from Chanyeol’s gaze. “I’m doing this for you. I know you’ve been spending so much for me, and I wanted to repay you.”

Kyungsoo stands up, his small figure walking slowly towards Chanyeol. “Hold out your arm.”

Chanyeol reluctantly pushes Kyungsoo away, hiding his arm from the shorter. “Kyungsoo, stop this—“

“I don’t want to lose you.” He says, his eyes downcast. “I don’t want anyone else to get you. Once you time out, you’ll lose all your memories.”

“Kyungsoo, everyone will lose their memories. It’s a cycle we’ve been going through for the past thousand years. We can’t avoid it.”

Kyungsoo blinks, tears slowly filling up his eyes. He doesn’t lift up his head to face Chanyeol, his words hard as it exited his mouth. “Why… why don’t you care?”

Chanyeol swallows the lump in his throat, unmoving in front of the man in front of him.

“We can’t produce anymore people. The plague has given a bridge to immortality and newborn babies are no longer needed. We just recycle humans now, have you forgotten?” Chanyeol feels like his words lingered around bitterness, making him bite back down his tongue.

Kyungsoo’s eyes remained glued to his feet, letting Chanyeol continue on with his small speech. “We’re tasked to love, to give, until we’ve lost all out time. Then we are recycled,” Chanyeol stops, using his hand to lift Kyungsoo’s face up to him. “But we love dearly and we love genuinely. We love as if it would be our last.”

Kyungsoo eyes are filled with tears, threatening to drip from off of his eyes. “Kyungsoo, even if I’m recycled, I’ll find you.”

“I’ll find you and I’ll love you again.” Chanyeol wraps his arms around the smaller boy, tightening with each second that ticks unto his arm.

“How much time do you have left?” Kyungsoo asks again, hoping Chanyeol wouldn’t be as reluctant to reply anymore.

“I’ve got enough.”

Chanyeol laid back unto the silver bed, the feeling of cool metal piercing through his skin. He looks up at the bright light hovering above him, ignoring the stinging feeling piercing through his arm.

“Okay, Chanyeol. You’ve got a few more minutes left, don’t you want to say goodbye?” The man in the white coat asks, Chanyeol still not turning his attention back him.

“No.” He replies, eyes glued unto the light before him. “I’ll see him again, anyway.”

The man just shrugs, walking over to the oval machine Chanyeol was about to enter. The metal bed moved, pulling Chanyeol’s body into the contraption.

He’s left inside, alone and secluded as lights lined the interior of the machine. The wire connected to his arm lights up, along with the lights the surrounded him. With one click, his dial is drained to 0, closing his eyes shut.

Chanyeol wakes up to the same light, except with no memory of it.

“You’re Park Chanyeol.” The man beside him says, holding a clipboard in his hands. He’s maintaining a smile, watching as Chanyeol propped himself up on his elbows. “You’re 23 years old, working part of a board of directors for Filed Corporate.”

 Chanyeol reluctantly nods his head, heaving himself off the bed. He looks at his arm, the numbers flashing away in neon green lights. The seconds field ticks away, his heartbeat resounding through the somewhat hollow body. In every recycled human’s mind, there is always the certain memory programmed. We are recycled. We will be reused to as to keep the world seem real, even if 100% of it has gone artificial.

Chanyeol straightens his tie in the mirror, exiting the hospital and walking into the streets. He wonders if his past life was fun, whether he had someone back home waiting for him. Obviously, the syndicate would delete memories. Delete his, and everyone else’s. No one knew the old Park Chanyeol, and he’d have to establish another in this world.

He nods off as the thought programmed in his mind starts to direct him towards a yellow car parked in front of the hospital building, entering it and reaching for his pocket. He finds the keys, starting the engine and entering the road.

Chanyeol had the map in his mind, directing him towards his apartment in the heart of Seoul, on the highest floor with wide windows that stretched from ceiling to floor. His mind showed him pictures of each room, nodding in agreement.

“Okay, I got it.” He says out loud, the images disappearing as he drives faster. In this world, no one has a sense of materialism. If you did well in your past life, you’ll be given a better life in the next one.

He parks the car into the space that had the holographic words Park Chanyeol blinking on it. He gets out of the slick mobile, his legs robotically moving towards the entrance of the building.

He is brought up to the last floor, where he was asked to reside for the rest of this life.

The next day, Chanyeol was asked to come back to the hospital for the final paperwork. His new shoes squeak against the white tiles, the dimly light building making him seem sketch.

“I’m here to meet with Dr. Choi.” He says to the lady in the front, receiving a smile on one end. “Alright, head on up to the 17^th floor. You’ll know where to go.”

The conversation ended there, and he actually had no idea. He wanted to ask, but it was a bit too late as the lady started blabbering away on the phone. He sighs, quickly picking up his pace towards the elevator.

He’d probably find the room, since the hospital wasn’t as big.

Chanyeol chooses a button from the panel, 17, engraved into white ceramic. The elevator starts up, speeding as soon as he reaches the 17^th floor.

He exits the shaft, walking through the hallway in complete confidence. His eyes glue unto the names scribbled unto the gray doors, trying to decipher after just a few adjustments to his literacy.

He stops and heaves a sigh of relief when he comes across the door that said Choi, opening it with a slight push.

“Hello?” He says, trying his best to adjust to his unfamiliar voice. His words just echo through the expanse of the room, returning to his ears. He enters the room fully, looking around to see if anyone was there.

He unwillingly takes small steps, the eerie feeling of an empty hospital room sending shivers down his spine. He uses the neon lights implanted in his arm as the light, trying his best to drown out the darkness.

“Who are you?” Chanyeol immediately whips his head around, seeing the small figure draped in a long white blanket. His heart rate increases, a bit too scared as the voice approached him. “I asked, who are you.”

“C-Chanyeol.” He mutters, making the figure stop walking. The outline of the white linen marks through the darkness, enough for Chanyeol to decipher that it was a boy.

“Hm. Well then, Chanyeol. What are you doing in here?” The voice further asks, making Chanyeol release the tension in his shoulders. He was newly recycled, so everything around him scared him.

“I’m looking for Doctor Choi.” He hums, waiting for the boy to answer. There was silence, weighing down on both of them as Chanyeol waited for a reply.

“He isn’t here.” The boy replies, slowly walking backwards to another direction. He props himself on top of the sofa, or at least, Chanyeol thinks it was a sofa. “I’m Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol doesn’t understand, trying his best to comprehend the situation he was in. “Hello…?” He reluctantly replies, wanting to leave as soon as he could.

“Doctor Choi takes care of me.” He says, the tone of his voice suddenly growing low. “Does he take care of you too?”

Chanyeol’s eyebrow rises at the question, still unable to understand where this was going. “Yeah, he’s my assigned doctor. Whenever I get recycled—“

“—Oh.” The voice interrupts, making Chanyeol slightly freeze. He turns back his attention to the voice, wondering what kind of reply was that. “So, you’re one of the recycled.”

Chanyeol feels bile lining the walls of his throat, trying his best to come up with a decent reply. “Yeah, I'm one of them—“

“—That’s nice.” He gets interrupted again, making him slightly irritated. He doesn’t reply, waiting for Baekhyun to push on with the conversation. “Are there a lot of them?”

Chanyeol blinks, casually walking over towards a chair. He takes a seat, wanting find Dr. Choi as soon as possible. “What do you mean?”

“Recycled.” Baekhyun immediately replies, evidently wrapping the blanket around him tighter. “I see a lot of them, but I’ve never really spoken to one.”

“Aren’t we all recycled?” Chanyeol replies, wondering what would have brought the idea to this boy that there are actually people who weren’t recycled. There is a slight pause before Baekhyun replies. “I’m not.”

Chanyeol brings his full attention to the boy on the couch, a bit taken back by his words. “You’re not? But how—“

“—I’m dying.” He immediately replied, the sound of bitterness masked with the inaudible smile crossing his face. “I’m dying, that’s why I can’t be recycled. Humans need to be healthy when they’re recycled. You guys are practically immortal. I, on the other hand, am not.”

Chanyeol remains silent, the word dying long forgotten. “Dying…” He mutters, deciphering the idea. “No one has died in a thousand years—“

“Well, I am.” Baekhyun plainly replies, still unmoving from the couch. “I didn’t get the plague.”

Chanyeol freezes, his heart rate increasing. “I was one of the ones who couldn’t receive the digital dial because I was, so to speak, human.” Baekhyun follows up, reminding Chanyeol of the plague he has in possession.

“The plague isn’t more of a curse but a blessing. That’s why everyone’s immortal, right? I didn’t get it. I’m aging normally. But since the world has gone too far beyond reality, everything’s artificial. Food is artificial. Nature is artificial.”

Chanyeol leans in, watching as Baekhyun went on. In the small light seeping from under the door, he could see Baekhyun’s face slightly.

“I catch diseases. I’m too weak, and soon I’ll be one of those dead bodies you’d find in cemeteries back a thousand years ago. We haven’t been using those, have we? We don’t need them. I guess, we’ll need them now, at least for me.”

Chanyeol swallows the lump in his throat, watching as Baekhyun’s voice slowly turned bitter. He doesn’t have the words to say since he has never felt the brink of death. He’s always been recycled, a bit too much for human numbers. “When were you born?”

“23 years ago.” He says, sending Chanyeol into confusion.

“Weren’t newborns—“

“—Killed? Yes.”

Chanyeol stops, the sudden reply taking him back. “As you can see, I wasn’t killed.” He says, turning his head towards the desk sitting in the middle of the room. “Doctor Choi saved me.”

Chanyeol follows Baekhyun’s gaze unto the table, the name plaque engraving the words Choi unto the gold. He then turns his head back to Baekhyun, who was now staring at the wall on his right.

“Since I was born 23 years ago, I didn’t receive the plague and the dial. I’m normal. Doctor Choi thought he could bring me up, normally, and against the ways of the government. But I was too weak, far too obsolete to function properly.”

Silence donned on them like a blanket of snow during winter. There was distance, and Baekhyun did nothing but close it in between. “Hey, ask me how many diseases I have.”

Chanyeol felt unenthusiastic with asking the question but did anyway. “How many?”

“A thousand.” Baekhyun replies, his voice blank and refusing to show emotions. “At least, that’s what I understand from the words of Doctor Choi. He’s never really told me directly, I just deduct it from the way he reacts. I bet there’s more than that, though. Miracle is, I’m not dead.”

“Miracle.” Chanyeol repeats, making Baekhyun chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“You’re actually listening to me.” Baekhyun’s laugh vibrates throughout the room, making Chanyeol’s heartbeat grow. He watches as Baekhyun moves, trying to follow his body in the darkness. “I haven’t had anyone listen to me in a while.”

“Why is that?” Chanyeol asks, pushing on through with the conversation even if he knew he shouldn’t.

“Because, I’ve always been locked up here. I haven’t seen the outside in 23 years. This room has no windows, and I never really thought about what would happen if I opened that door. Maybe, I’d die. Maybe I’d lose everything I’ve been trying to sustain.”

Chanyeol grows deeper into the conversation, watching as Baekhyun’s frail body starts to stand up. He freezes, the urge to walk up to the boy and catch him if he was to fall. But his feet remained flat on the ground, stable and intact.

“Don’t worry, I wont die now. Like you, I also have time. I’ll time out, but I’m trying my best to add a few more years. That’s why I’ve been locked up here. I’m only alive because I’m forcing myself to.”

Chanyeol bites back his tongue as Baekhyun walks towards the door on the other side of the room, a bit disappointed of how maybe Baekhyun was trying to leave. “You should leave, Doctor Choi will probably be back tomorrow.”

“—Wait.” Chanyeol shouts, making Baekhyun turn his head back to him. “What?”

“Go out.” Chanyeol says, his voice rasping as if regretting his words. He swallows his regret, immediately pushing on with his idea. “Go out.”

“Are you joking?” Baekhyun says, a bit irritated. “Are you mocking me? I just told you—“

“—If you’re dying, then live while you still can. Locking yourself up in here might as well say that you’re as good as dead.”

Baekhyun doesn’t reply, his hand still tightly holding unto the knob. “But, what if I—“

“—die?” Chanyeol finishes, making Baekhyun nod. “Then it’ll come. If you die here, that struggle for 23 years would be in vain. You should die in a different way.”

Although a bit weird, the words Chanyeol stuttered at the spur in the moment was comforting. He could slightly see the smile crossing Baekhyun’s face, making him feel the slight victory. “Come on.”

Chanyeol extended out his hand, the neon lights illuminating the distance in between them. Baekhyun takes light steps, eyes glued unto Chanyeol’s tall figure.

When their hands touch, Baekhyun feels the surge of warmth pass through his skin. “You’re warm.” He says, a bit shocked by the way he felt.

“And you’re cold.” Chanyeol chuckles, taking Baekhyun’s hand securely in his while guiding him towards the door.

Chanyeol slightly creaks the door open, exiting it with the hand still tightly clutching unto Baekhyun inside the room. He looks back, seeing Baekhyun’s face in the dim hospital lights.

His heart stops, marveling at the way Baekhyun looked. His lips lined with pink draping over his pale skin. His small body wobbled as he followed along Chanyeol’s pace, making the giant slow down.

Once Baekhyun stepped unto the cool floor of the outside, he winced. Chanyeol is alarmed, quickly lunging to Baekhyun’s aid. “Are you okay?”

Baekhyun blinks away the expression, immediately smiling towards his guide. He is immediately caught off guard when Chanyeol’s smile comes into view, his heart thumping with every second.

He clutches his chest, sending Chanyeol to panic. “Are you okay? Is it one of the diseases? Oh God, I’m sorry—“

“N—no.” Baekhyun replies, immediately discarding his hand. “It’s nothing.”

Chanyeol breathes in relief, continuing on with their walk down the halls.

“Do you know what a bucket list is?” Baekhyun suddenly asks, making Chanyeol turn his head to face the shorter behind him. He doesn’t reply for a while, trying to think of what the thing was. “Familiar. I probably knew about it in my previous life.”

Baekhyun chuckles lightly, making Chanyeol curious. “Why are you laughing?”

“No reason.” Baekhyun replies with a closed eye smile. “It’s just weird hearing someone talk about immortality. I’ve read books dating back years ago saying immortality was impossible.”

Chanyeol doesn’t reply, only giving Baekhyun a slight nod before continuing on. “So, what’s a bucket list?”

Baekhyun hums for a while, his light voice vibrating through his throat. “It’s things you do before you die. I want to do it. Who knows? I might even die tomorrow.”

Chanyeol stops, turning his entire body to face Baekhyun.

“Don’t say that.” Chanyeol says in a stern voice, sending Baekhyun off guard. “Don’t say you’ll die tomorrow, or any day. You’ll die when you will.”

“But isn’t that still going to be a day? If I said I’d be dying when I will, it’s also along the lines of—“

“—Ah, shush!” Chanyeol says as he places a finger on Baekhyun’s mouth, making sure to make it sound like he wasn’t angry. “Don’t say anymore—“

“—But then you’re logic doesn’t work.” Baekhyun frowns, his plump lips swerving like strings were pulling them down. “If I said I wasn’t going to die, I’d be ly—“

Chanyeol immediately planted his lips unto Baekhyun’s, silencing the man. Baekhyun stood there, frozen in his small stance. Chanyeol doesn’t feel the embarrassment, but feels the sudden urge to push Baekhyun against the wall.

He was only inches away from doing so, but he immediately pulls back.

“I—I'm sorry.” Chanyeol coughs, avoiding Baekhyun’s face to see his expression.

“No, it’s alright.” Baekhyun says, the sense of a smile flowing through his words. “I liked it.”

Chanyeol turns his attention back to him, immediately seeing the smile crossing his lips. Chanyeol sighs in relief, taking Baekhyun’s hand back into his.

“Where are we going?” Baekhyun asked, a bit puzzled after the short hurry.

“Don’t you have a bucket list to do?”

Baekhyun couldn’t help but smile, letting the giant drag him along into the open.

Chanyeol speeds through the streets, him taking slight glances at the boy beside him. He could see the smile plastered on the boy’s face through his peripheral, making him slightly let the ends of his mouth tug to each side as well.

“How is it?” Chanyeol asks, making Baekhyun turn his head to the driver. “It’s amazing! Since when did we have cars that had no roofs? All the cars in the books I read were covered, or were led by horses! Or even some of them were floating—“

“That’s either too old, or too unrealistic.” Chanyeol said with a laugh, holding tighter unto the steering wheel. “We modeled everything after the same things we had years back. Everything is the same, nothing withers, nothing—“

“—dies?” Baekhyun interrupts, making Chanyeol nod. “Nothing dies.” He repeats, swallowing the lump on his throat.

There was silence for the remainder, just Baekhyun staring out into the wide streets as the drove past. “How does it feel?”

Chanyeol doesn’t take his eyes off the road, just bringing his attention to the elder. “How does what feel?”

“Immortality?” Baekhyun asks again, making Chanyeol’s mouth form a slight O shape. “Nothing much, really. You just feel as if you have to do something, and then gradually it turns into a building block of a life you should be living.”

“Like a save point?” Baekhyun went on, Chanyeol not being able to understand. “Save point?”

“You know, save point.” Baekhyun repeats, the blank expression on his face replaced with a proud smile. “There’s so much you don't know, Mr. Chanyeol.” He says with a laugh, his finger dancing against the open windows. “I read about it in a book on one of Dr. Choi’s shelves. In video games, there’s this thing called save point where when you die, you return to the exact same position.”

Chanyeol doesn’t want to push on with the explanation, but he listens anyway. “Yeah, sort of like that.” He settles with a few words, causing the silence of the car to thicken.

“So, what’s first on your bucket list?” Chanyeol asks, lowering the tension in the car.

“Ice cream.” Baekhyun replies “Bubblegum ice cream.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Chanyeol says in a frightened tone, holding unto the opening’s frame, peering from above.

Baekhyun shouts a firm yes before turning back down to the scene in front of them, smiling through his goggles. “If you back out now, you coward, I’m never talking to you ever again.”

Chanyeol doesn’t take the words to heart, but doesn’t see any other way. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.” He takes a deep breath as the guide gives him a thumbs up, shoving himself out of the helicopter’s door and unto the unraveling sight of the sky.

Baekhyun shouted, his face filled with adrenaline as the bird’s eye view of Seoul unraveled before him, his arms stretched out on either side. Chanyeol was right above him, attached by the harness that supported them both.

Chanyeol couldn’t help but slowly shut his eyes, the sound of them piercing through the air and Baekhyun’s low screams infiltrating his ears. He doesn’t want to admit it but this was probably one of the most exiting things he’ll ever do in his life.

When the landing came into view, Chanyeol immediately did as he was instructed. He opened the parachute, launching the pink (as per Baekhyun’s choice) parachute, making them land unto the grass.

“That was so much fun!” Baekhyun shouted, laughing as he could feel Chanyeol shake from behind him. “You’re such a scaredy cat.” Baekhyun laughs again, releasing Chanyeol’s harness from his, taking a light step forward.

Chanyeol doesn’t move, just taking deep breaths. He looks up to see Baekhyun’s smile, making him smile along.

“Come on, Yeol, we’ve only done just half of my list! There’s still so much to do! So much to do!” He repeats, pulling Chanyeol up but then losing his footing as well.

Chanyeol catches the boy in his arms, feeling the limp and lankiness form in his hold. “You really shouldn’t be doing the extremes. What if you get a heart attack, or a seizure, or a—“

“—Hey! What happened to the Chanyeol back in the hospital room?” Baekhyun interrupts, lightly pushing himself out of Chanyeol’s grasp. “Didn’t you say I should die where I should die? Not in a musky room?”

Chanyeol rethinks his words, inhaling a bit to get back his composure. “Alright, alright.” He says in defeat.

“What’s next then?”

Chanyeol knew they were going to get in trouble, but he did it anyway.

“The wheelchairs are over there.” Baekhyun whispered, pointing at the stack of wheelchairs at the end of the hallway. “All you have to do is grab one and we’re home free—“

“Why is racing through the dumb hospital’s corridor in a wheelchair while shouting viva la vida! In your bucket list?” Chanyeol says with a face palm, eyeing the wheelchairs at the end of the hallway.

“And why are we hiding? This is a hospital for the public—“

Chanyeol is immediately silenced as Baekhyun brings his finger to his lips, still not taking his eyes away from the prize. “I wanted to. Just do it, okay?”

Chanyeol groans, crawling over to the wheelchairs and detaching one from the pile. He pushes it slightly towards Baekhyun’s eager direction, letting the elder take a seat into it. “Okay, go my trusty steed!”

Chanyeol doesn’t know when he was proclaimed as steed, but pushed on with it anyway.

And if Chanyeol hadn’t realized, Baekhyun would have been his for the rest of this life.

“I hope you wont do this ever again.” Dr. Choi says as he looks at both Baekhyun and Chanyeol in disgust. “You know why I keep you inside, Baekhyun. You know that you’d die out there. You’re human, I’m only trying to help—“

“—I know.” Baekhyun says in defeat, quickly standing up from the couch in front of Dr. Choi’s desk. “Chanyeol just wanted to help, don’t get mad at him.”

Dr. Choi says, bringing his attention back to the man. “I’m sorry about all of this.” Dr. Choi says, making Chanyeol hunch back in guilt.

“No, it was my fault.” Chanyeol says, taking back to his feet. “I’m sorry took him without permission. He seemed so dead—“

“—He’s dying anyway.” Dr. Choi remarks, almost heartlessly. “I’m just doing my best to keep him alive. And that wont work out if he does things to endanger his life.”

Chanyeol nods, understanding where Dr. Choi was coming from. “But, if he died here, then that’d—“

Chanyeol sees the slight glare cross the doctor’s face, making him stop. “You really shouldn’t meddle in other’s affairs, Park.” He could see the slight bitterness in the man’s face, taking a deep breath before turning to his table.

“Here.” He says as he soundlessly handed over a piece of paper to the man. “The address of the man you had previously loved.”

“What?” Chanyeol asks, holding unto the thin paper in between his thumb and index finger. “Do Kyungsoo, he used to be your lover before you timed out. He’s going to time out in the next few months, so I guess reintroducing you wont do any harm.”

Chanyeol doesn’t understand his words, but watches as he typed away in his computer. “This is against my code, but I’m returning your memories from your previous life. Think of it as compensation. In return, never speak to Baekhyun ever again, nor talk about him to other people, got it?”

Chanyeol nods, walking towards the man’s table once he was motioned to approach. He stretches out his dial for the doctor to hold, inserting a plug into his arm.

With that, Chanyeol remembered everything.