Kyuhyun fixes his blue-and-dark blue striped tie once more before going in the venue of the Thanksgiving Ball. It’s a masquerade-themed ball, so other than those who can’t be denied who they are like say, the biggest student and the littlest professor at the university, Kyuhyun can’t identify anybody, not even Sungmin, Hyukjae or Donghae.

He, himself, is sure that no one can recognize him because of this special mask that he ordered online. It’s dark blue (Kyuhyun decides that his theme for Thanksgiving would be blue because he figures it stands for peace and more than love or happiness, he wants that night to be peaceful with Yesung. Love and happiness can come later.) and it’s adorned with black and silver beads and sequins. Kyuhyun looks like he’s come out from a very classy movie. He looks very handsome.

He walks through the venue that is indeed very beautiful, matching the presence of the beautiful and handsome students of the university. Kyuhyun thinks that the organizing staff for the ball worked an extra mile to make the venue this beautiful. Lights are falling from the ceiling which is covered by silk cloths. The tables are topped with roses and the flowers are designed with bows. There is a red carpet and the dance floor is as shiny as a mirror. Kyuhyun smiles, thanking whoever are behind the beautiful venue because this is where he’ll meet Yesung for the first time. It has to be special.

Kyuhyun gets his phone from his pocket and sees if there’s a message from Yesung.

There’s none.

So he sends one himself: Hey, are you already here? Where are you?

Kyuhyun waits for a reply but even after half the Thanksgiving Ball’s time, his phone hasn’t beeped once.

Happy birthday, Hyesung.

Happy birthday, Hyesung.

We love you, our Hyesung.

Happy birthday, Hyesung.

The lights in their house are as dimmed as possible and there is nothing but the repetitive chants of Jongwoon’s parents as they clapped their hands and looked utterly happy because Hyesung is in front of them, wearing her favorite dress and is looking very pretty for her birthday.

Jongwoon tries harder to give both of his parents a smile but looking at the wall clock behind his parents, and realizing that it’s been almost ten in the evening which means that the Thanksgiving Ball is halfway through the end, he can’t help but think of this particular person who he knows must be waiting for him at the ball, that person who he wants to be with right now, that one and only person.

But Jongwoon scolds himself mentally and tells himself that it’s much safer this way, not only for him but for Kyuhyun as well. He tells himself over and over again that it’s better this way, that Kyuhyun will never know that he’s truly Yesung and that Kyuhyun will never, ever meet him. Jongwoon convinces himself but unfortunately, convincing the mind might be a hundred times easier than convincing the heart because no matter how many times Jongwoon tells himself these things, his heart only calls for one name.

Kyuhyun.

Kyuhyun suddenly turns around, having felt that someone calls his name but when he turns around, there is nothing except a pair of one man in a suit and a woman in a long gown, holding each other and swaying to the slow music that they’re playing. Kyuhyun grimaces, not because he isn’t romantic or anything, but because Yesung hasn’t replied to him, still yet.

So he sends another message: Where are you, hyung? Aren’t we supposed to meet tonight? :((

He sounds desperate, Kyuhyun knows that, but he can’t care less for that anymore because tonight is supposed to be the night and he wants to meet Yesung tonight no matter what, even if he sounds desperate or deprived. He wants to meet Yesung; he needs to meet Yesung.

If Kyuhyun won’t meet Yesung tonight, he’s not exactly sure what to do with his life anymore because what’s more painful than waiting is waiting for someone who’ll never come.

Kyuhyun is still thinking of Yesung, of the possible reasons why the older hasn’t shown himself up yet, but is distracted by a guy wearing white suit at the stage, walking towards the DJ who are now playing loud and fast music, sort of like the disco type. Kyuhyun wonders what’s up so he decides to observe.

“It’s a dedication booth,” Kyuhyun hears a familiar voice coming from behind. He turns and sees someone walking towards him wearing a black suit, mostly like what he is wearing but instead of wearing colored long sleeves underneath the suit, he is wearing a simple white one and black tie. If not for the elegant mask he is wearing, Kyuhyun is sure he’ll be mistaken as a waiter from time to time.

“Who are you?” Kyuhyun asks irritably because he is observing and when Kyuhyun is observing, he just doesn’t want answers to be given right in front of him even though sometimes, the answer is really right in front of him. He’s just too stupid to realize it.

The guy laughs and stands beside Kyuhyun, “It’s me, Ryeowook.”

“Oh,” Kyuhyun says, feeling embarrassed because Ryeowook’s a good friend of him no matter how irritated he with his life.

“It’s okay,” Ryeowook says immediately, because more than his handsome face and heavenly voice, Ryeowook is also sensitive towards other people. He knows when somebody’s hurt. He understands when somebody’s happy. He sees it when somebody’s waiting.

“How’d you know it’s me, by the way?”

“You aren’t dancing with anybody because you’re waiting. So I figured you must be Kyuhyun.”

Kyuhyun turns to look at Ryeowook and raises his brow. “How did you know I’m waiting?”

Ryeowook turns to Kyuhyun as well and grins. “I’m a psychic.”

“You’re creepy,” Kyuhyun mutters, moving a little away from Ryeowook.

“I’m kidding,” Ryeowook chuckles, waving for Kyuhyun to come back.

“What did you say that is?”

“Dedication booth.”

“What’s that?”

“Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook says steadily, eyeing Kyuhyun critically. “Are you an idiot or what? It’s a dedication booth; so of course, it’s for dedicating something to people. Duh.”

“Oh.”

Ryeowook sighs, “You’re hopeless.”

Meanwhile, in the Kim’s mansion, Jongwoon is slicing the three tiered cake that his parents bought for Hyesung’s birthday but even when he’s there with his parents, posing as Hyesung and trying hard to concentrate that his life is here and not anywhere else, he can’t help but think of Kyuhyun.

What’s he doing now?

Is he texting me?

Is he dancing with somebody?

Does he like somebody else now?

Is he still waiting?

Kyuhyun’s eyes, Kyuhyun’s smile, Kyuhyun’s nose, Kyuhyun’s face, Kyuhyun’s voice. Jongwoon is thinking of them all. Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun…

Jongwoon accidentally drops the bread knife, having his mind off the cake he is cutting and on someone else approximately thirty-five blocks away.

His mother approached his quickly and worriedly asks if he’s alright. Well, if Hyesung’s alright. “Hyesung-ah, are you alright? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, eomma,” Jongwoon says, but he isn’t because he cut himself. It’s fine if it’s just a small cut but even bread knives at Kim household is as sharp as meat knives because they’re always brand and new. If it’s not because of accident, Jongwoon would be mistaken to be planning to take his own life because of his wound near his pulse.

“Are you sure? Are you alright, Hyesung-ah?” his mother asked again, worriness is visible in her eyes and in whole honesty, whenever Jongwoon is dressed as Hyesung is the only time when his mother looks alive again.

It hurts, of course, but there really isn’t anything Jongwoon can do.

Because he’s not Hyesung and he’ll never be Hyesung.

“I’m fine, eomma,” Jongwoon snaps himself out of his depressing thoughts and repeats to his mother.

“But,” his mother takes his hand and sees the blood. “You’re bleeding.”

You bleed just to know you’re alive.

“I’m fine, eomma,” Jongwoon says again, feeling adrenaline rushing through his entire body. He’s not sure if it’s the blood that is oozing from his body out to his skin, mimicking the bright color of the red dress he is wearing he’s got an idea, a way out. It might not be what Kyuhyun is expecting and Jongwoon is sorry for that but this is the best Jongwoon can do.

You bleed just to know you’re alive.

“I’m going to cover this would for a moment, eomma,” Jongwoon says to his mother assuringly, smiling to her like how Hyesung would smile at them. “It’s just going to take a moment. Wait here, okay?”

His father looks at his unsurely but when his mother nods, Jongwoon walks out of the room and proceeds, not on the bathroom to cover his wound but out.

He looks at his wristwatch. 11:49 pm.

The ball ends at exactly midnight.

He’s not even sure Kyuhyun’s still there.

He’s not even sure if he’ll make it.

But he’s got to at least try.

You bleed just to know you’re alive.

Jongwoon runs out of the house, ignoring the pain from the cut he inflicted to himself accidentally and the red sticky, smelling liquid coming out from his body. He runs three blocks away from home, to be sure that in case his parents or any of their servants would look for him, they won’t be able to find him that fast. They won’t be able to find him in ten minutes.

All he has is ten minutes.

He opens the nearest telephone booth he finds after running three blocks.

He flinches because of the stinging pain in his right hand but continues to hold the phone and dial Sooyoung’s number. First ring, second ring, and halfway through the third ring, Sooyoung picks up the phone.

Without waiting for Jongwoon to speak up, Sooyoung shrieks over the phone, getting Joohyun’s attention who is standing beside her. “Oppa! Jongwoon-oppa, where are you? We’ve been waiting for you.”

Jongwoon smiles weakly. Not only is he not allowed to exert that much of physical effort, like running three block in a couple of minutes but he adrenaline rush is extremely prohibited for him. And not to mention the endless flow of blood coming from his huge cut near his right pulse.

You bleed just to know you’re alive.

But considering everything that’s happening in his life, Jongwoon is glad, nevertheless. The pain brings him back. He sharp feel of the knife in his skin awakened him and sort of tells him that his still alive. And while he’s still alive, he might as well live.

“Live, Jongwoon.”

“Live?” he sniffs through his cries.

She is crying, too, as she holds his hand. “Live. And don’t ever forget who you are. People will always come and will try to make you forget who you are. But you must always remember. Who you are. And what you want.”

He isn’t saying anything anymore.

He is only crying and holding her hand.

“So live, Jongwoon. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It doesn’t matter if you’re wounded.”

He cries harder, pressing her bony hand on his plump, pale cheeks.

“You’ll get better. You’ll get healed. So no matter what, live.”

“Noona,” Jongwoon manages to utter between his hiccups.

She smiles through her tears, pressing her younger brother’s hand one more time and whispering softly, “Thank you, Jongwoon-ah, for making me remember who I was… who am I.”

And then, all Jongwoon hears are his parents hysterical shouts, calling her name and asking her to wake up, and a single, buzzing sound. Jongwoon remembers looking at the machine beside her bed, and seeing a long, horizontal line.

“Sooyoung-ah, listen,” Jongwoon begins breathlessly.

“Oppa, are you alright?” Sooyoung interrupts because she doesn’t care anymore if she’d very dressed at that moment when he hears Jongwoon breathless.

“I’m alright,” Jongwoon tells her and struggles to get something out of his throat again. He rips the ribbon off the red dress and quickly wraps it on his wound, applying pressure to temporarily and hopefully stop the bleeding.

“Listen, Sooyoung-ah,” Jongwoon continues before Sooyoung can ask again if he’s really, truly alright. “I need to ask you a favor, okay? Please, can you do this for me?”

“What is it, oppa?”