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It was with great fear that he finally sat down to create the lyrics to the performance.

In honesty, he didn't exactly have anything to fear. It was an irrational dose of a failure-inducing emotion. When he had arrived at this glorified camp, he didn't care about the outcomes of it, apart from learning that storytelling technique. Yet sitting at the lone desk in his room, he couldn't help but feel a dark swell at the very pit of his stomach.

Still, with memory of his muse still fresh in his memory, he put his pen to the sheet of paper. He didn't really think about the melody of the song he had spent hours creating. Instead, he let the words flow from pictures of vivid memories, the first of these taking place in the hospital bed in which they met, and the last, taking place mere minutes before. 

The experience they had had not too long ago, made him wish that he hadn't have asked his boyfriend what was on his mind. It was an innocent question, really. The heaviness was only brought on by an answer that was distinctly unexpected.

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Fifteen minutes before...

Their tongues met in a languid sensation of raw emotion and wandering touches. They were alone in their little cliffside cave, sharing a small picnic between rehearsal and practice. The mood was light. The air was crisp. Everything seemed perfect. 

Yet Jongin couldn't remove the distinct feeling of something holding his smalled boyfriend back. It was a difference so minute, it would have gone unnoticed by anybody else. But they had shared a great deal of kisses—enough to last a lifetime—and that was enough for the violinist to tell that his boyfriend was bothered by something.

Being the caring person that he was, he asked. Kyungsoo stared for a second, before urgently pulling Jongin's lips back to his. If it wasn't so obvious that he was avoiding the question, Jongin would've given in to the steady movements their tongues moved in. As this wasn't the case, he pulled back immediately.

"You have to tell me when something's bothering you. It's not good to keep things to yourself." Kyungsoo knew this was true. He knew it like he knew that Jongin was 'the one'. He averted his gaze to the view in front of them, not daring to look Jongin in the eyes as he gave him the news.

"They're saying there's a miracle treatment for my disease. It's been proven to be correct on test subjects already. There's a lack of side effects, and nobody has even complained of any pain. It's completely successful. But....it's also halfway across the world—in Canada."

There was conflict in Jongin's already messy mind. The struggle between selfishness and selflessness had never been one he'd have to think about. He got what he needed, he didn't care about the impact he had on other people. But this time was different. He had to be selfless. There just wasn't a way that he could be happy without Kyungsoo being as healthy as modern medicine allows him to be.

"Go." Two mere letters strung into one syllable, yet in this context it held more meaning than anything else he had said. With that one word, he put aside his longing to keep Kyungsoo to himself; he said "I love you" in a million different ways; he showed that his boyfriend's health was more important that his own happiness. 

"What? It's in Canada! We can't be together if I'm in Canada!" Kyungsoo shouted, urgency in his voice.

"I'll go with you. It'll be okay as long as we're together."

"Jongin-ah, you have a dream! A future!"

"There are other paths I can pursue. You are my future, and I will fight for you, no matter what,"

"You're being completely delusional, Kim Jongin! You aren't going to be stupid, and drop everything so that I can get another 'mystical miracle cure', because experience has taught me that cheating death only cheats yourself. I don't want to be put through that again! I don't want to be on a monthly IV drip, wasting away a pointlessly lengthened life in an uncomfortable gown. I don't want to watch you wasting your life away for something as stupid as me. More than anything, I just want people to stop sacrificing things for my pathetic excuse of a life! My parents work their sorry asses off for my hospital bills, my doctor treats me like i'm more fragile than goddamn glass, and everyone sends me pity no matter where they go! I don't need you to be like this too! Just...just stop!"

Nobody, no matter how close they were to him, would've predicted that outburst. The angered one stormed off in frustration, and his boyfriend was left completely speechless. He'd known from the beginning that this wasn't going to be some warm apple-pie relationship, but he hadn't forseen anything to this extent. 

Maybe he just wasn't willing to see past the two-dimensional figure of his boyfriend prior, but suddenly, the depth was shoved into his face. It was unignorable, and so painfully obvious.

As any sane boyfriend would in this situation, he chased after his partner. Clearly he wasn't fast enough, because even in his weakened state, Kyungsoo had managed to lock himself into his room. As Jongin peeked through the window as best as he could, he saw things he never thought he would. 

His boyfriend, his sweet, innocent Kyungsoo, with a silver flask in hand, downing what was unmistakeably alcohol. He drank it them same way one would drink water after being trapped in the desert for days. He rummaged further into his bag, and brought out what was undoubtably a pack of cigarettes. He held it in his hands, as if debating whether or not to have just one. In the end, he decided it was best not to. He slid it back into the bag, in an easily accessible spot just in case the need suddenly arose.

Having seen enough, Jongin tore himself away from the barely open window, and ran back. They say lyrics flow best when one is overcome with emotion of some sort.

There was so much coming to mind, he just prayed that it'd work. And no matter how much Jongin may have said it was about winning, it was clear that he only wanted to know that Kyungsoo was okay.

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As pen met paper, ideas came left right and centre.

I thought of angels choking on their halos,
getting drunk on rose water.
Seeing how dirty they can get then,
pulling out their fragile teeth,
and clipping tiny wings

Was it an exaggeration? Yes, it was, but to Jongin it was the only thing he saw. The one he'd seen as perfect, defiling himself before his very eyes. He wasn't perfect anymore. At the time, the term used to describe it was 'ruined', but more accuracy was found in the word 'real'.

Anything you say can and will be held against you,
so only say my name
it will be held against you
Anything you say can and will be held against you
so only say my name...

There was a certain need to be near his that overcame his sanity. The desire burned in him, and turned his bones to ashes. The need to touch, to hold, to claim. It hadn't been this way before. Maybe it was because he didn't want to ruin a perfect porcelain statue. It was clear now, though, that Kyungsoo was far from porcelain. There was more to him that what he may have thought.

If heaven's greif brings hell's reign
then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday
for just one yesterday.

And yes you taught me a lesson in the worst kind of way,
still I'd trade all my tomorrows, for just one yesterday
for just one yesterday.

He wasn't sure if it was from the pain, or from the shock, but he couldn't help but wish for what he'd written. He just wanted another yesterday—another day of bliss without the kind of guilt or sadness or pain he felt there and then. 

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The liquid burnt his throat, but it burned so good.

If you'd asked anybody else, his actions would be seen as overreacting. If you'd lived the way that he had, his actions wouldn't be seen as enough. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, in fact, he was far from it. He was happy that there were people who cared about him, and he cared about them just as much. 

But there's an important distinction between love, and overprotection. In fact, with every passing second, he felt more and more like a show pony. People gave up everything to save him. Nobody saw him as anything but an angel who needed to be helped back up. 

Even in his younger years, when the first hit of cancer came, he wasn't one to rush for the miracle treatment. He was content with his life at that point, and he'd gotten everything a child of that age could possibly want. If this was what was meant for him, that would be okay. 

But mothers are fussy, and fathers care too much, so the treatment was given, and Kyungsoo lived on. 

Still, even in that period of good health, he was far from accepted. He was still pitied. Everyone still treated him as if he would break at the slightest touch. There wasn't any trust placed in him, simply because he just 'wasn't strong enough' to withstand it. 

And since then, it'd only gotten worse. In fact, he was almost certain that everyone was so blinded by this perfect image of a wounded boy who was constantly in need of care and attention, they'd forgotten that he had problems too.

Cigarettes were saved for the most dire of break downs. He'd only bought one packet, and so far, only one had been used. It was admittedly calming, but unhealthy all the same. He decided that he'd wait a little longer, before using one. 

Instead, the tonic in his flask was enough to mask the turmoil in his heart and head.

Letting people down is my thing baby.
Find yourself a new gig, this town isn't enough for two of us
I don't have the right name
or the right looks
But I have twice the heart

He almost wished it was all a game. In fact, a game would've been a much easier alternative. It wasn't, of course, and that was undeniable. Still, the longing for some sense of respect, or identity was there, and it burned in him, consuming his insides in an angry whirl, only aided by each poisonous gulp sliding into him.

If I spilled my cards, 
the world would never look at you the same way
And now I'm here to give you all my love
And I'll have to watch you fall as it's taken all away
 

Of course, this couldn't last for long. Tomorrow he would have words to sing, rather than a tune to hum. In days, they'd have a performance. There wasn't any more time for Kyungsoo to wallow in his anguish. He mightn't have had a tomorrow, but he still had today. As he reached for his second cigarette, he decided that he would use this one night, and deal with the consequences later.

I am not an angel. 
It was the only thought he had as he inhaled the sickening puff of grey smoke, all regrets thrown to the gutter, and crushed by the sheer weight of his own rebellion.
 

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A/N:
Shortish chapter...whoops?
School started, and cousins came, so sorry it's a bit late.
I give it about 3 more chapters before this is done?
Ahhh, I'm really enjoying this~
Hope you do too!