He awakes to a cheek pressed against cold asphalt, limbs sore and joints stiff. Kim Sunggyu sits up after willing himself awake; sleepy eyes blink blearily at his surroundings. Stainless steel structures covered in glass stare back at him, the sky above a drab shade of grey. Knees crack as Sunggyu moves to a standing position, navy blue hoodie and tattered jeans slightly damp from the morning drizzle. At least he’s fairly certain that it’s morning. The sky is still dark but he can see the sunlight poking through slivers between clouds and there aren’t any bodies clad in pressed black suits and ties fast walking between the buildings.

His sneakers make scuffing sounds, steps echoing loudly in the deserted area. Sunggyu pulls his hood over his head, drizzle turning into a light pitter-patter of rain; arms wrap around his torso, fingers clutching onto thin fabric as he tries to will the cold from seeping into his bones.



Sunggyu remembers his university graduation like it happened yesterday; the sweaty palms, the nervous jitters. But the emotions he recalls vividly are anticipation and excitement. He had majored in business in hopes of being able to land a safe nine to five job so that he wouldn’t have to worry about retirement. 

Miraculously, with the help of Dongwoo and his connections Sunggyu managed to land a starting job at Woollim Corporation, one of the world’s most well-known music businesses. They pump out idol groups on a conveyor belt, each with a unique quality that is all a part of a fool-proof plan to capture the hearts of fan girls and fan boys alike. It’s a business, except instead of products they sell faces and talent that are prettily packaged in sequined shirts and tight pants.

Suddenly jerked out of his thoughts, Sungyeol elbows him harshly in the ribs and Sunggyu tosses his cap into the air like the rest of his graduating class. He scans the crowds quickly for that one familiar face, soft chocolate brown curls framing her face, and it takes a minute or two for him to spot her across the gymnasium.

Park Sunyoung, Hyomin, his girlfriend of two years, stands as unshed tears glimmer in her eyes as she’s engulfed in hugs from her family members and closest friends. Sunggyu’s heart stutters when her eyes land on him, the corners of lifting up just a bit more. The happiness in her eyes makes him want to melt on the spot. With a mental pep talk and a few deep breaths, Sunggyu wades is way through the sea of people and doesn’t exhale until her hand is clutched firmly in his. Her fingers are cool against the skin of the palm of his hand.

She smiles her brightest smile, pearly white teeth and pink gums visible to the entire world. Her friends force the two of them to take a few couple shots, a bouquet of flowers are shoved unceremoniously into his hands. They smile and pose, eyes turning into crescent moons and suddenly everything is hot and uncomfortable but nothing out of the normal for rapidly escalating embarrassment.

Sunggyu spends the evening with Hyomin’s family, joking as food and drinks continue to overflow the dining table. He looks down fondly at their intertwined hands, the simple silver promise band a stark contrast to porcelain skin. 



The sounds of early morning taxi drivers and dumpster trucks assault his ears when he approachs the main road. The clouds are still a dark grey color, similar to the asphalt beneath his feet. Fingers grapple for his cellphone to check the time, 6:29AM, much too early for anyone to be at work. Sunggyu’s attention is caught by his skin, alabaster in color with grey hues. Sickly, he notes sardonically. 

Sunggyu makes it to the edge of the road, arm raised to hail for a taxi cab. He slides in when the bumble bee yellow car pulls up next to him, lights flashing obnoxiously orange. His clothes stick to his skin and to the pleather seats but he ignores it as he recites his (their) address to the driver.



Sunggyu always dreams about the past; memories of Hyomin are put on an infinite repeat cycle as they play behind his eyelids like a movie. From their first meeting, to their first date, to their first kiss and anything and everything in between; the film strips are those of his happiest moments, and saddest moments. 

Sometimes it feels like time hasn’t moved forward.



He skips work that day, opting to change into dry pajamas when he gets back to his apartment, clothes leaving drops of water on the wooden floorboards with every step he takes. Sunggyu makes a mental note to wipe up the liquid later, pondering the thought as he strips himself before rummaging his drawers for clean underwear and a semi-clean t-shirt and pants.

Sunggyu falls asleep almost instantly, eyelids heavy as he drifts into a dreamless sleep.



Golden sunlight penetrates the cracks between the blinds, heat warm on his face as Sunggyu stirs awake. A post it note is stuck to his night stand “You look exhausted, there’s some soup on the stove if you’re hungry – Sungjong.” Always the caring roommate, that Sungjong. He feels a pang of guilt as the fleeting thought of being a better hyung crosses his mind. Sunggyu shakes his head, pushing the negative sentences from his mind. His hair feels grimy and dirty.

He’s still not entirely sure how he ended up waking up against grey asphalt.

It’s a little disconcerting.



Sunggyu recalls the summer before his third year of university as if it had just happened the day before; the salty air stings his eyes as the dingy 1969 Ford mustang speeds along the high way, top down while the wind tangles with his hair. Hyomin laughs from the passenger side, large sunglasses obscuring most of her face.

The sweltering heat makes Sunggyu extremely sweaty, green t-shirt sticking to his body at odd places. He sighs exasperatedly, removing his cap and running a hand through his short hair. There’s a sheen layer of sweat on his forehead and he grimaces at the stickiness. 

Hyomin bounds over after checking in with the receptionist, curls flying and face looking untouched from the sweltering summer heat. She hums a tune when they get into the elevator, arm easily linking with his. A soft smile graces Sunggyu’s lips.

They spend that week losing themselves in a real life fantasy; eating cold parfaits in a cafe bordering the seaside; snorkeling trips along the caverns near the colorful coral reef; night time walks on the sand where land meets the sea; playing games at the nearby boardwalk.



Everything’s a blur when Sunggyu wakes up from his sleep, mind disgruntled as his limbs tangle in dark grey sheets.

The memory tastes bittersweet on his tongue, nimble fingers flexing into the cotton fabric.



Woohyun starts to nag when Sunggyu shows up to the office with his tie askew and purplish discoloration underneath his eyes. He waves him off with a hand, preferring to quietly slip into his office. Sunggyu drops his briefcase atop his desk with a loud thud, palms rubbing against his eyes. He pushes the button on his desk intercom to tell his secretary, Sooyeon, to cancel all meetings and if she could please bring him a cup of coffee.

Minutes pass before the soft click of the door opening shakes him out of reverie, sleepy gaze meeting Sooyeon’s serene smile as she places a mug of steaming caffeine in front of him. Sunggyu murmurs a thank you as she bows and leaves.


Flitting thoughts, thoughts that shouldn’t be there, distract him from his work; his boss is getting on his case for half-assed proposals regarding their up-and-coming idol group, who are set to debut in six months’ time. 

It isn’t until nearly ten at night that Sunggyu leans back in his desk chair, eyes focused on the white ceiling does he start to ponder his life and his (poor) life choices.

He wonders if he had just pursued music, like how he had wanted to, rather than be a stickler for his parents’ demands and gone to business school. Perhaps if he had chosen a different path, a path that didn’t suffocate him on a daily basis and one that allowed freedom; a path where he could be himself, to be anything he had wanted to be, maybe then he wouldn’t feel so hollow. 

It takes only a few seconds before his senses are overloaded with thoughts of Hyomin, memories mixing with fantasy behind his closed eyelids.

Sunggyu’s breathing becomes shallow, the ghost of lips and fingers vividly real in his mind; beads of sweat dot along his hairline before he’s shaken out of the dark recesses, message tone blaring obnoxiously in the quiet office building.

It’s from Sungyeol, who’s asking him whether or not he’s done revising the proposal.

He lets out a derisive snort before tossing his phone onto the mahogany desk.



Weeks pass before Sooyeon knocks on his office door, a mug of tea in one hand as she smiles at him. She takes in the sunken cheeks and swollen eyes in stride, gently prodding if he’s eaten yet and if he’s getting enough sleep. Sunggyu appreciates the care and plasters on a smile he hopes seems believable before reassuring her that he’s fine. Doubt clouds her eyes but Sooyeon doesn’t press for more. She never does.



Hyomin has started haunting his dreams, the sweet and pure memories of them together ripping apart at the seams. They’ll be smiling and kissing one moment and in the next she’s throwing a flower vase his way, shards of glass skittering across the tiled floor. Sunggyu wakes up in a cold sweat most nights, sheets soaked with perspiration as aggravated hands drag his face down. It’s those times where he can’t find the heart to fall back asleep, the hopes of dreaming dissipating like wisps of smoke.



Sungjong has tried introducing him to his female friends; Sunggyu vaguely recalls Luna, an aspiring singer who may or may not be able to debut in the next year. Then there was Min, too sweet for her own good and a lovely voice that carried notes to the heavens.

It’s a shame when Sunggyu’s with them all he thinks about is Hyomin Hyomin Hyomin and how it’s her touch he craves in the dead of night.



It hurts, everything hurts. Those four words repeat over and over in his mind when Sunggyu stumbles home in a drunken stupor, fingers fumbling for the keys in his pocket. He makes it inside his apartment before slamming the door shut, leaning against the cool metal before sliding down and sitting on a pair of shoes. He fists the front of his shirt, chest hurting and heart burning.

It’s a pain he can’t seem to explain, everything feels like fire as his vision goes in and out of focus before passing out completely.

Hyomin.



In a world that used to be filled with shining colors of reds, and golds, and indigos painting the sky, is now filled with blacks and whites.

Sunggyu’s favorite color isn’t any of those though.

His is asphalt grey; emotionless, dreary, and it holds no promise for anything. Just like his future.

Just like him.