Time passed slowly in actuality after Kris’ death. I want to say that it was all just a blur but it was a time in my life where I could still to this day recall every single second. I had sat through thousands of tears. Thousands of late nights. And thousands of fights.

It was after a particular meeting with our company president, months after the funeral, that I remembered the clearest. We had been on a group break in order to “recover from our loss.” But now, as we were all back in Seoul, Mr. Lee Soo Man thought it was best to finally tell the media exactly what they wanted to hear regarding the whole incident. “Kris was an addict. We tried our best to help him but in the end there was nothing more that we could do. We tried to get him help but he kept pushing us away.  But he would have wanted us to continue on with this band and we will. We’ll do it for you, Kris. Fighting!”

I had the speech printed out in my lap, we all did, and I stared at it and read it over and over on the drive to where the live press conference was to be held. It was our leader SuHo’s job to read it, and he obediently read through it all the while memorizing every word. I knew SuHo better than most because we had shared that special connection with watching over the other members; him because he was the leader and me because I was the oldest. It was an unspoken bond between us. I could see the tension in his face as he read over those five small sentences.

“I can read it,” I told him in the car in a hushed whisper so the other members couldn't hear. I couldn't help but gulp at the statement. I didn't want to do it but I couldn't resist helping him out. I'd never seen him look so distraught. 

He looked up at me and smiled sadly. “Thanks Minseok, but it’s my job. I can do it.”

I didn’t blame him for anything. This band was SuHo’s whole world. He had spent his entire childhood preparing for this lifestyle. He didn’t know anything else and it would have been a culture shock for him to lose it. He wasn’t about to do anything to jeopardize it. At least, that was what I thought at the time.

Everyone was silent when reached our destination. Tao sported his usual stony expression, something I had not seen him change since before everything. Kris’ death had affected all of us in different ways, but I knew that Tao had been hit the hardest. I didn’t know what it was like to have an other half but I was sure that Tao and Kris had been soul mates.

You don’t have to be romantically involved with someone in order for them to be your soul mate. They say that it’s someone who will bring out your absolute best. Someone who knows everything about you. Someone who you trust completely. I know Kris never said anything like this aloud, to anyone ever. But deep down I knew he felt this way about Tao. They were two peas in a pod. And I knew that Tao had lost his other half and I didn’t think I knew that feeling. But I knew that, from the look on his face, I never wanted to experience it. There are things worse than the feeling of dying and I couldn’t think of anything worse than what Tao must’ve been going through.

All the others filed in behind our leader; their heads hung low and they didn’t make a sound. It was unusual for our group and the reporters noticed it right away. They started their onslaught of questions before we had even sat down.

SuHo delivered his speech without a fail, as expected. We sat quietly as he answered a couple of other questions being thrown out; making sure to ignore the ones that would cause any sort of disturbance. He had been trained well. We all had been. The unexpected part of that meeting, however, was the moment that Tao stood up in front of everyone. I turned my head to him instantly, as did the other members.

His expression had turned dark and I felt as if you could literally see the steam coming from his ears. “You know what,” he started in his broken Korean. All eyes trained themselves on him. “That’s all a ing lie.”

We were all paralyzed, our eyes transfixed on him as he continued to speak. He turned then to face us “You all never even once tried to help him,” I felt Sehun stiffen besides me. I put my hand on his arm in order to hold him into place for everyone’s sake; his attitude was poor and we all knew it. “And!” he continued on but not tearing his gaze away from us. Suddenly it was if we were all back in our tiny dorm yelling at each other; nobody else was around us. Nobody else mattered. Only this time it was serious; this time it was real. “You all know that he wouldn’t have given two s about continuing this band. He didn’t care about it at all. He’s been wanting out for years but you all forced him to stay.  You forced him to stay and you kept pushing him and pushing him until he couldn’t take it anymore.” He choked up at this point but still the room was utterly silent. I had grown to hate silence.

He suddenly fell to his knees and put his face in his hands as he sobbed violently.

Nobody moved.

We all watched him as the seconds ticked by; us, the news crews, the reports and all of our managers.

He spoke again in a tiny cracked voice that echoed loudly throughout the hall for every ear to hear. “You all did this to him. You’re the reason he’s gone.”

Still, nobody moved.

“What happened to Tao after that?” Ji Ae asked.

I sighed. “He left the band. They had tried to sue him, of course. But I don’t think he cared at all. I tried to keep in touch with him but he had never returned any of our phone calls. He had gone back to China.”

“And do you know where he is now?”

I nodded. “Tao had committed suicide some years after that.”

Her eyes widened, “What! That’s horrible!”

“You have to understand, Ji Ae. Tao, like many other people in this world, was sick. He had been sick for a long time and because of the way that mental illness is treated he was never able to get the help he needed. It is never something that should be ignored.”

 “I know, grandfather.” She sighed. “Do you think he still hated all of you? In his final moments?”

I smiled at her as I shook my head. “No, my dear, I don’t. I don’t blame him at all for the things he said that day. To lose someone like that… to lose your other half. It’s never something someone should have to experience.”

“Have you ever experienced it?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “Over and over.”