Survivor’s guilt.

That’s what the therapist calls it after Chaerin takes too many sleeping pills. The therapist recommends alternative methods of healing but Chaerin knows that she’ll never heal. She’s too old to heal, too old for new skin to grow over the mangled and damaged scar tissue.

Jiyong was her soulmate. When he died, that was it.

Game over.

She becomes a cold shell of what she used to be and doesn’t leave her apartment. At first her friends worried about her, checking on her and making an effort to see she was alright. But Chaerin was so strong that no one thought that she could ever truly break. Everyone thought that she would eventually bounce back and life would return to normal.

One night there’s a knock on her door and it’s been so long since she’s had company. Chaerin slowly makes her way to the door, opening it to see Youngbae standing before her in his uniform. He’s got a bag in each hand and she knows that they’re his only possessions. She lets him into the apartment without a word and they sit next to each other on the couch.

“I heard you tried to kill yourself.” He says after a while and she gets up from the couch to look out at the window. She doesn’t look at him.

“I didn’t try to kill myself.” Her words are sharp, she’s sick of the accusations. After her stay at the hospital she couldn’t go a day without seeing her name in the news. Most netizens blamed her, most netizens wished that she had succeeded. “If you’re going to lecture me you can just leave.”

“Do you mind if I crash here for the night? I don’t have anywhere else to go.” After Jiyong’s death, Youngbae took it the hardest out of anyone. He started to drink more and got into a fight with a reporter. The press and allegations got out of control and Big Bang retired for good. YG’s newest groups took over to save the company and the seniors that could still hold it together went solo.

“Sleep on the couch.” She tells him before going to her room.

He lays down using his duffel bag as a pillow and watches her door. By the time he finally falls asleep her bedroom light is still on.

When Chaerin walks into the living room in the morning Youngbae and his bags are gone. She makes herself a cup of tea and goes back to her room.

Later that night Youngbae stands at her doorstep with his bags, smelling strongly of alcohol with a defeated expression on his face. She doesn’t ask any questions and lets him back into the apartment. He had gone to Teddy’s house to beg him to let him stay until he got back on his feet but they kicked him out. Yeseul didn’t want him there with the baby, she said it wasn’t safe.

“You can sleep on the couch again,” Chaerin tells him as she goes into a closet and takes out blankets and a pillow. She sets the pillow down and lays out the blanket, carefully tucking it into the cushions. He watches her in a daze as she makes his temporary bed.

“Do you have anything to drink?”

“You’ve had enough to drink.”

“Drink with me.”

She gives him an exasperated look but goes to the kitchen to get two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Kneeling down on the floor next to the couch she pours them each a glass and sets down the bottle. Youngbae takes the bottle from the table and drinks from it. With a sigh Chaerin picks up one of the glasses and takes a drink, slowly finishing it and then drinking the other. Youngbae pours her another glass as he motions for her to sit next to him. She gets up drunkenly and sits down on the couch. He slumps down onto her lap and she absentmindedly his short hair like he’s a faithful old dog. His eyes close and he falls asleep, lightly snoring as he cradles the bottle of whiskey in his arms. She reaches over to cover him with the blanket, carefully removing the bottle from his grip. Chaerin drinks the rest of the bottle and falls asleep with her head against the arm of the couch.

In the morning she leans against the kitchen counter drinking coffee. Youngbae walks in after his shower with a towel around his neck, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Have you been sleeping?” He asks, taking a piece of toast from the plate she had set out for him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“You should stop taking those pills.” He tells her but she ignores him. Angrily, Youngbae throws the plate onto the ground and it clatters loudly without breaking, the pieces of toast scattering on the ground. He gets closer to her, invading her personal space to intimidate her. “Listen to me! Don’t you dare ignore me! Look at me!” He yells like a rabid dog, his face red as he pounds his fists on the counter on either side of her. He swears at her and calls her names but she quietly drinks her coffee without looking at him. His anger dies down and she moves to pour him a cup of coffee, setting it in front of him as he sits down at the small kitchen table. She picks up the plate and throws away the toast as he reads the newspaper silently.

“Last night is the first time I’ve slept in a while.” She tells him and he looks up at her over the paper.

“Don’t take those pills anymore.” He tells her again and she nods her head. She sets the empty mugs in the sink and starts to leave the kitchen but Youngbae stops her. “Where are you going?”

“My office.” Chaerin replies and he gets up to follow her. She turns around to glare at him but doesn’t do anything to stop him.

Her room looks like the rest of the apartment: minimalist in white and black. She walks to her neatly organized desk at the side of the room and sits down. On the other side is her bed, completely made and untouched. Youngbae runs his hands across the sheets, stiff and unslept in for a while. He looks at the two bed side tables with a frown, knowing that the owner of the second is no longer around. There’s dust on the table tops, untouched and unused. There are no pictures, no personal belongings.

The room feels empty and soulless.

It’s like a vault of preserved memories, Youngbae understands why Chaerin has difficulty sleeping. There is no life in here, only ghosts.

He looks over at her working at her desk, her facial expression blank. She’s become so different now, wearing makeup around the house and putting on her best clothes. Her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she works by the soft lamplight, her red lips pursed in concentration. This is CL. In every moment she has become CL, a mask of confidence and boldness. He knows that it’s all she can do to hold herself together. But he sees the emptiness, just like her bedroom - she’s so empty.

“Do you even feel anything anymore?” Youngbae asks her suddenly, his voice angry. He’s jealous that she has become numb. To stop the constant pain and angry, he would do anything. He would do anything to become empty and if he can’t then he would rather drag her down with him. She looks up at him and smiles, her lips curving upward beautifully but her eyes remain dark and sad. It’s unsettling. “Stop looking at me like that!” He growls, grabbing onto her desk and staring down at her from the other side.

“Should I be as angry as you? Should I punch anyone who upsets me, should I exercise until I vomit and then drink until I pass out?” She asks meanly, setting down her pen to look him in the eye. Slowly, she stands up and moves toward him. She reaches out to gently touch his arm and he notices how thin she’s gotten. Her powerful curves rotted away, leaving behind a weak shell. His hand grabs her tiny wrist and he feels as if he squeezed hard enough he could break it. She doesn’t even flinch, though Youngbae is sure that he’s hurting her. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

“You don’t eat, you don’t sleep. You don’t leave the house and you don’t talk to anyone. Do you bleed, do you feel pain?” He growls, roughly grabbing her shoulder with his other hand and shaking her. Her body moves lifelessly like a ragdoll in his hands and Youngbae’s blood boils. She might as well be dead, she’s not alive at all. The grief and frustration threatens to tear him apart and he releases his grip on her wrist to roughly grasp the hollow of her neck. He throws everything off of her desk in a sudden burst of rage, easily picking her up to sit on the cleared space. His lips crush onto hers and Chaerin is limp in his hold. The less he responds, the angrier he becomes, pressing his body onto her hers. He pulls back to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. Her lipstick is smeared onto her chin and she looks at him for a long time. She’s silent and he doesn’t dare move, entranced by the misery in her cat-like eyes.

A hot tear falls down her cheek and it’s the first time she’s cried since she got the phone call Kwon Jiyong had crashed his Bugatti driving 302 kilometers per hour with a supermodel in the passenger seat.       

Her thin arms circle around his neck and bring him down onto her. She kisses him desperately, her long nails digging painfully into his back. They move against each other crazily, bodies slamming against each other without thought. It was rough and painful and ugly but it was what she needed, what they both needed.

- - -

Author's Note: I'm sorry this took longer to update than I had intended. I will be trying to update this at least once a week so please look forward to it. I'm trying something new so I hope that you like it. Thank you to everyone who has subscribed!