To leave... just like that. It was better than going back. He owed too much. The debt grew with every breath. As much as he worked, it was never enough. Lied, stole, sold his body, mixed himself in their business of transporting goods... but it was never enough. He could no longer remember what it felt like to be free. Mr. So was as unforgiving as the abysmal end. But Mr. So wasn't the only problem.

He was a problem. An addict. The worst sort. He'd save up money only to watch it disappear again. Because he needed more. Always. More drugs meant more energy to work. More work meant more money. More money meant more drugs. Because he always needed more just to keep himself going.

Junki knew he was an addict and that he was running a goddamn rat race. But being conscious of it only made matters worse. Cast in stone. There was no hope escaping the endless cycle of no beginning and no ending. 

So he decided to end it all. But there was yet another problem.  Junki wiped the wet bangs, the rainwater, and the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He was afraid. He didn't dare jump.

"Well? Are you going to do it or not?"

Junki's heart jumped. He gripped the rail tight with both hands before turning his head towards the girly voice. The young woman held a black umbrella in her right hand. She wasn't looking at him. She was looking out over the water. Thanks to the lamppost's yellow glow, he had a softened side view of her face. And Junki recognized her... from advertisements all over the city. She was an idol of some sort but her name quite escaped him.

"I say... better to go on with your pain and suffering than cheapen life with this kind of death." Not once did she turn to look at him. "But it's your choice. Free-will, right? Makes you wonder though... is it a good or an evil?"

"Aren't you doing the same thing as me?" Junki regretted opening his mouth. It was silly of him to speak. Why would she jump? She lived a much better life. A life without debt.

"I used to want death."

Her response surprised him.

"But now... I'm just teasing it." She wore a smug look on her face. "It won't have me... not by my hand."

I am caught by surprise. It is him. I recognize his chin and cheekbones. The man on the street. He enters through the doorway of my humble office. I look at the clock. Exactly twelve noon. My lunch break. Usually, if a patient comes during lunch, I have my assistant reschedule them for a later time or a later date but for him, I will make an exception. Because I must know. Why is he here? What ails him? And does it concern her?

Naturally, they do not come to me with so clear a problem such as it is... a crushed finger or a light case of anemia. The man looks to suffer from both. Fatigue and perhaps unhappiness to top it off.

He approaches my desk and sit down directly in front of me.  He chooses not to speak first and I return his silence. From where I sit, I can clearly see his eyes. They tell me nothing and yet, at the same time, answer many questions. Why he wears shades on a cloudy day... Why he stays silent... Why he is waiting for me to speak first.

He is hiding and it raises an important question. Why does he choose to come here? Does he not know this place is where personal secrets are uncovered and shared?

Yes, he knows and he is not here to share. He is here for a much more intriguing reason. And I tell him so. I tell him I know he came with one of my patients in mind.  But even so, I am not inclined to tell him anything else.

"I came to warn you, doctor. You seem like a good person, helping others with their demons. But you can't help her. So don't play her game. You will lose for sure... more than just a life."

Somehow, it did not sound like a threat.

He is a man who realizes that he cannot afford to spend his time regretting the past. He only thinks of moving forward. What he fails to do in the past will not determine the quality of his life. What he does in the future will.

And yet, I still find myself to be ill and unsatisfied. I cannot accept it as it is. He seemingly possesses an untroubled mind... so much so... that I am beginning to believe he is living adequately by his own set of right and wrong. Indubitably, he is compensating for his lack of.

Revealing himself was a mistake but Jaejoong was not one to dwell on the past. In their separation, he experienced a new kind of emptiness because, in a way, she was... more or less like him... a monster. But unlike him, she didn't embrace the idea. It didn't suit her. Not at all. She had no wish to blend into the world like he did. Instead of waking up each morning, believing in a purpose, she watched people grow, cities change, stars combust... all from her fabricated place.

But now, she'd warped into something else altogether. After years of searching, he found her. She'd assumed the identity of an unfortunate girl. It was well planned, executed, and disposed of. A near-perfect crime... if he hadn't known her. She'd changed her name many times since then.

He never thought of facing her again. But as he uncovered her new borrowed life, he'd made a dire mistake and placed her in danger. The dead girl's brother had never stopped searching. Always snooping about for new leads.  And the man was bent on revenge. Jaejoong knew this because he understood how it worked... he just couldn't feel the need.

His mother always told him not to hurt good people. Only hurt those who deserve it. But he'd have to make an exception this time. To him, she was special object. All else was irrelevant.