A few days after the news of their disbanding was released, Zico came crawling home pathetically, on his knees. Just like I had been on mine three years ago.

My parents had welcomed him back with warm embraces, telling him he would be fine again after he picked himself up and brushed his knees off. They didn't blame him, didn't question him. They brought his things in and filled that room that had been vacant for three years. I hadn't thought he'd be back so soon.

Who was he to come and go as he liked? The heart that was once enclosed tightly within the grasps of those thorny vines was slowly fighting its way through the maze of green and pain. The feelings I kept in for three years started seeping back into my veins the moment that despicable person walked in through the doors of his used-to-be and now-current-again home.

A knock on my door tore me away from my thoughts for a moment as I went to open it. There, Zico stood before me. I hadn't expected this. I wasn't ready to face him. At least not now and not here. My room was my haven and my escape. I wasn't ready to share this with him either, I wouldn't ever be.

He stared down at me with a slightly queer look before inviting himself in real politely. He sat down with a plop on my bed and looked at me questioningly when I didn't move from my spot by the door. My blood was boiling. When the hell had I even allowed him in? I rolled my eyes as I shut the door hard behind me.

I sat myself down on my chair as I waited impatiently for him to speak his mind. He was taking his own sweet time. The nerve of him to invade into my space and still he was taking so long. If he was going to try something funny, I wouldn't mind him crafting his speech beforehand because honestly how sincere had his words ever been?

"Hey... I know we haven't been keeping in contact much and stuff because of my schedule sorry," he started off. I kept myself from snorting. Great way to start if off, a pack of lies this was going to be. 

I was curious. What else would he lie about?