Chanyeol ran the tips of his fingers along the slightly browning edges of the white roses he had bought for Baekhyun on the way home as he frowned to his phone, upset with the lack of text messages he was receiving. It had been hours since he left Baekhyun, and he figured that the other would have the decency to call him or at least text him when he got home like he asked him to. Assuming the older boy was holding back on talking to him because of their argument, Chanyeol pursed his lips, worried that Baekhyun was much more upset at him than he assumed he would be. They had disagreements sometimes, but they usually laughed them off within hours. Or minutes. Sometimes it just took a couple of seconds. Or even just a shared glance and a simple laugh at the other’s expression and an explanation of how anger didn’t fit the other’s face as well as their smile did. Really, he kind of just expected that Baekhyun would come to his house and curl up in his lap, shrugging off the entire thing as though it never happened, and Chanyeol wouldn’t ask about it anymore. He winced. Their argument had been bad, but it wasn’t that bad… was it? Anxious, Chanyeol looked through his text log again and called Baekhyun’s cellphone. When he got no response, he sighed before deciding to call his house.

The phone rang four times, and when it stopped, no one on the other line made an attempt to speak.

“Umm… Hello…?” Chanyeol asked softly, hoping to get a response from the other side.

“… Chanyeol, dear?” Mrs. Byun’s soft voice shocked Chanyeol. The usually flamboyant woman seemed toned down and awkward.

“Oh, hi Mrs. Byun – I’m sorry if you’re busy, am I interrupting something?”

There was a soft, awkward noise from the other side of the line. “No, no sweetheart. We’re both going through this together. We can talk about it.”

Chanyeol frowned as he glanced at the phone. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Byun, I don’t understand what you mean.”

The line was silent. Chanyeol counted the seconds of awkward silence before clearing his throat and whispering, “Mrs. Byun?” before the woman spoke up again.

“… I’m sorry, dear, what was it that you were calling for?”

Chanyeol smiled softly, faking his happiness, and mumbled into the phone, “Oh, I was wondering if Baekhyun was home by now.” Chanyeol allowed three seconds of silence before deciding to explain. “I told him to text me when he got home, but he never did. I guess he forgot or something, so I was calling just to know.”

“Chanyeol…” Chanyeol blinked twice at the silence before Mrs. Byun burst into tears. His eyes widened. What happened? Should he go over there and comfort her? “Chanyeol, Chanyeol…”

“Mrs. Byun? Mrs. Byun, what’s wrong?”

“Baekhyun never made it home –” Mrs. Byun’s breath hitched in the middle of her sentence.

“My baby’s dead, Chanyeol...”

Chanyeol stopped speaking. Chanyeol stopped breathing. He stopped thinking.

He opened his mouth to speak. ‘Surely… you must be joking right…? This isn’t funny, Mrs. Byun…’ but nothing came out. The words died on the tip of his tongue and he let out unbelieving, short gasps of air as the phone slipped from between his fingers. Mrs. Byun’s wailing continued on the other side of the line. “Baekhyun’s dead, Chanyeol. He passed away in that car accident.”

No. No…

I never knew what it was like to run out of time until it did.

Chanyeol didn’t move from his spot as his phone continuously made noise on the floor. The words repeated in his mind. Baekhyun’s… dead… Baekhyun is… Baek….

My world was falling apart in front of my eyes.

 “C-car… car acci…d…d…”

The words stuck in his throat as he gaped at the wall in front of him.

His breath escaped him in stunned, panicked huffs.

No… This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

Chanyeol immediately refused to believe the news as he dropped to the floor and fumbled around blindly with tears pricking at his eyes and blurring his vision.

There was only one thought in his mind at that moment: I need to talk to Baekhyun.

He picked up his phone and swiftly cut off the call before deftly calling Baekhyun’s number, still holding on to his thread of hope. He remained on the floor, hunched over his phone as he whimpered desperately, “Pick up… Pick up…” His phone rang 6 times before it went to voice mail.

Chanyeol cursed and wiped furiously at his eyes as he called the number back with the same result. He listened to the lifeless robotic voice of Baekhyun’s voicemail as his face twisted in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Please pick up…” Chanyeol whispered as small tears began to make their way down his face. “Pick up, goddammit… answer me, Baek… please… answer me…” Chanyeol’s voice became less distinguishable as he choked on his tears. “Tell me it’s not true, Baek… pick up and tell me that… please don’t do this to me… don’t leave me alone like this…”

I was suddenly lost and alone in a world I realized that I couldn’t escape.

Chanyeol lay down on his side, clutching his phone, as he cried into the floor miserably, failing to drown out this incredible pain and his sorrows.

I never knew how soon I would run out of time.

There was an awfully bleak emptiness that overcame him. This wasn’t right. He needed to fix this. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Baekhyun couldn’t disappear with such a negative image of him. That argument wasn’t supposed to be the last thought of Chanyeol on his mind. His birthday was in three days. He was supposed to tell Baekhyun… Tell him that he… that he… And he had those rings and… and…

Time… I needed more of it.

Chanyeol curled into a shuddering ball on the floor and cried himself to sleep, clutching his phone in his hand as though it was the only thing to connect him to Baekhyun. His Baekhyun.

Yet like that, my hourglass ran dry.

---------------

Chanyeol woke up the next morning feigning ignorance. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he wandered into the kitchen with a large yawn. He greeted his mother with a drowsy “good morning” as he poured himself a glass of milk and walked behind her, glancing up at the television. It was rare to see his mother watch the news.

“Yesterday’s car accident… intersection of… semi-truck… two high school students...One reported dead, two injured.”

The sound of shattering glass caught Mrs. Park’s attention.

“Chanyeol–”

Chanyeol stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the television as though he didn’t expect anyone else to know about that horrid dream he had the night before. As his dream replayed in his mind, reinvigorated by the images on the screen, he took a couple of tentative steps backward, stumbling into the table, and he grabbed onto it to keep himself stable as though it could stop his world from flipping. Frightened by the sudden reiteration of his loss, he wheezed, paying no attention to the cold, uncomfortable sensation of the spilled milk soaking into his socks or the sharp pain of the broken glass pricking his toes.

Chanyeol covered his mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm around his stomach before he fell to his knees and dropped his hands to the floor, hunching over and pressing his palms into the damp hardwood to keep himself up as he dry heaved.

“Chanyeol, Chanyeol!”

The screech of his mother’s voice and the sirens blaring from the television and any other noise around him blurred together. The pounding in his head increased steadily as he shuddered on the floor and put his trembling hands to his head, squeezing his temples, “Make it stop… Make it stop, make it stop!”

Chanyeol flinched at the unexpected touch of his mother’s cold hand on his shoulder and stared up to her with a frightened look in his eyes.  As his eyes locked onto his mother’s wide, concern-filled ones, the throbbing in Chanyeol’s head dissipated slowly. The walls stopped spinning. The images in his mind faded to black. The sounds blaring in his head were drowned out to silence. Chanyeol tore his eyes away from his mother’s, drew away from her hand, and scampered up to his feet, but his eyes locked onto the white roses in a vase on the table behind his mother. He stared at them for a second before turning away.

“I’m… I’m going back to sleep,” He mumbled softly as he stumbled out of the room.

Chanyeol didn’t fall asleep. He was afraid of dreaming. Yet, he blamed it on the constant vibrating of his phone. Even so, he didn’t look at it. He only wanted a response from Baekhyun, but he knew it wouldn’t be. It would never be.

His eyes focused on the small silver ring sitting the middle of the open jewelry box. He growled as he closed the box with a small slam and threw it off his night stand. He turned over in his bed before ripping the other ring off his pinky and throwing it against the opposite wall. Chanyeol’s hands tightened in his blanket as he squeezed his eyes closed and pretended to sleep, trying to get all of the images of Baekhyun out of his mind.

He didn’t leave his room the rest of the day.

---------------

Chanyeol didn’t have the heart to wake up on Sunday and pretend again.

---------------

The soft creak of his door interrupted Chanyeol from his dreamless, agonizing almost-sleep.

“Chanyeol, you’ll be late for school.”

Monday came faster than he thought it would.

“I don’t wanna go, umma.” His voice was hoarse and unclear as he softly mumbled into his pillow.

School was in a completely different world. It was in a world that Chanyeol didn’t want to think about.

“I understand that, but you have to go –”

“I’m tired, umma.”

Like hell. He’d been “sleeping” all weekend.

There was silence.

“… Please just go to school, Chanyeol…”

School. Even the word sounded so foreign. School was in a world that Baekhyun wasn’t in. It was odd to think that his world had stopped, but everyone and everything around him was still continuing on routinely. Hours passed as usual; people halfway across the world continued with their business. Everything continued on as if Byun Baekhyun, the greatest best friend in the world, hadn’t just disappeared. Almost like he never existed. Like he never left him with unsaid “I love you’s,” a closet full of his clothes from his spontaneous sleep overs, or memories he could never forget. Like he never impacted Chanyeol’s life at all – like that was all suddenly supposed to mean nothing. Chanyeol wanted to vomit.

“…Please?”

Chanyeol didn’t respond, hoping that his mother would just leave and allow him to wallow in his sadness in peace.

Mrs. Park paused at the foot of Chanyeol’s bed, then sighed and walked back toward the bedroom’s door. She frowned as she looked back to Chanyeol from the doorway and mumbled softly, “Happy birthday, love,” as she closed the door behind her.

Chanyeol turned his head to the side to assess the premises and be sure that his mother actually left him alone before he took a deep breath and promptly shoved his face back into his slightly damp pillow. Chanyeol noticed the darkness in his room more than ever. He had spent most of the weekend locked up inside of here without any light, but now that some from the hallway had flooded in and was promptly shut out, Chanyeol felt more miserable, dark, cold, and alone than ever. He shivered as he pulled his blanket over his head and tried his best to shut out the feeling.

Seconds seemed to stretch for hours as he lay still as a corpse in his bed. Perhaps he was a corpse. It had been a couple of days since the accident occurred, but he still hadn’t regained his spirit. It was like Baekhyun took his spirit away with him.

After about 5 more minutes of attempting to fall back asleep, Chanyeol gave in to his guilt for shutting out his mother and unfolded himself from his blankets. He groaned as he pushed himself up slowly and stared down to his tear-stained pillow before rolling over on his bed and sitting up. He gave a small yawn as he opened his drawer to retrieve his phone and saw way too many missed messages and calls from Jongin, and four texts from Xiumin. He sighed as he put his phone back down and slid to the floor before he staggered sluggishly to the living room, where his mother was sitting on the couch curled up in a blanket.

Chanyeol leaned against the wall as he took in his surroundings. The blinds were closed, and the lights were off, save for the small lamp in the corner by his mother and a couple of lit candles placed in a small, round cake on the table. His mother’s eyes were fixated on the wavering flame as though she was lost in it. The soft glow of the fire illuminated her sunken cheekbones and the bags under her half-lidded eyes, slightly shining with the threat of tears pooling at the bottom of them, ready to roll down her cheeks.

Chanyeol swallowed thickly, a bit of guilt settling deep his stomach for knowing that he caused his mother so much worry over the weekend.

“Umma…” He mumbled softly as he scratched the back of his neck, hoping to catch his mother’s attention. As his mother looked up, he stared at her condition before sniffing and rubbing at his nose sheepishly, losing his resolve, and turning away from her.

“Umma… I really don’t want to go.”

---------------

Despite his protests to his mother, Chanyeol ended up standing in front of the building anyways.

He was going to walk to school, but as he stood outside of the door, he was reminded of how he and Baekhyun often walked together. He immediately returned inside and demanded that his mother drive him instead, or else he would stay home. It was an awkward drive filled with worried glances to each other in the rear-view mirror and a thick blanket of silence.

Chanyeol heaved a sigh as he opened the doors to the school and hesitantly stepped inside.

The halls seemed ghostly. It would be easy to hear a pin drop. Chanyeol wandered the forever-stretching halls aimlessly before approaching the door of his classroom. He took a deep breath and tightened his fists as he opened the door to class slowly, and the small pockets of chatter immediately ceased as he walked into the classroom.

He glanced up through his messy, unstyled hair to make sure he was in the right classroom, and caught the concerned eyes of Jongin and Xiumin staring at him. He probably looked like death itself. His auburn hair was a tangled mess, he had incredible bags under his sunken eyes, and his skin was pale and sickly. He didn’t care though. Let anyone think whatever they wanted to think. Chanyeol closed the door and sighed as he walked through the aisles of desks, and each person in the room silently watched him pass by.

He made sure not to look in the direction of a certain empty chair as he passed his usual seat.

Chanyeol pulled a chair out from a desk in the row the furthest back, which made a loud screeching noise. He sat down silently and propped his right elbow up on the desk to rest his head in his palm as he stared out the window at the grey sky. His classmates stared only for a few more seconds before turning back to their own small little groups and few barely whispered the rest of their conversations.

Chanyeol welcomed the silence. He still felt like he was at home alone. He felt like everything was okay for once, but he could feel the tension, as though others were trying to prevent it from feeling like something was wrong or like something was obviously missing.

He sat in silence until the door opened and the teacher walked into the room. With a sigh, Chanyeol let his arms fold across his desk and rested his head on top of his arms as the teacher slowly walked to the front of the class and started class in a slightly softer voice than usual. Chanyeol could feel the teacher’s sympathetic stare as it focused on him.

This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want pity or sympathy. He wanted Baekhyun.

---------------

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a blur. Chanyeol didn’t remember anything after the beginning of class, but suddenly the bell was ringing and everyone was rushing out of their seats.

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol glanced up and noticed Xiumin holding something thick in his hands. He eyed the package wearily and glanced up to Xiumin’s fake half-smile.

“Yeah, Xiumin?”

Xiumin dropped his smile and sighed. “It’s no use trying to be nice, so I’m really sorry.” He placed the package on Chanyeol’s desk and groaned. “Baekhyun left this at my house.” Chanyeol’s heart stopped at the mention of the name. “He and Kyungsoo came by a bit after school on Friday and dropped it off. He said he wanted to put finishing touches on it with our help, so he left to get more supplies. I still have it because… well yeah.” Xiumin’s voice trailed off and he coughed awkwardly, looking away from Chanyeol.

“So in general it’s unfinished, but it really didn’t need anything else. Just…” Xiumin frowned as he looked up to Chanyeol. “Just cherish it, okay? He put a lot of work into it, and he’d love to watch you smile with it. I know he would want you to have it anyways. Please just…” Xiumin shook his head, rubbing his temples. He placed his hand on his shoulder and whispered softly, “… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” before he walked away.

Chanyeol looked down to the package in silence and back to the bright haired boy who disappeared through the door.

As Chanyeol left the school, he texted his mother that he was going to Baekhyun’s apartment so she wouldn’t be worried about his whereabouts. The look on her face from the morning was permanently etched into his mind, and he decided that he didn’t need to see that again.

Chanyeol took the steps two as a time as he raced to the roof of the apartment. As he pushed the door open with his hip, a blast of fresh air hit his face and a small amount of peace settled over him. He closed the door behind him as he walked along the roof, dropping off his backpack and looking around the wide space. He used to come up here with Baekhyun often, but he never realized how extensive the space actually was. He and Baek were planning on coming up here today just to hang out for his birthday, so he considered he might as well show up here anyways.

Chanyeol sat down in the middle of the roof and closed his eyes before glancing to the neatly wrapped package in his hands as the wind blew a gentle breeze through his hair. Chanyeol gave a soft sigh and delicately undid the wrapping paper and opened the box underneath the paper slowly. As he pulled out the contents, he found a large, thick book. He turned it over in his hands, marveling at the design and texture of the cover and the thickness of the book, wondering why Baekhyun would spend so much time making a large book for him.

Chanyeol opened the book slowly, slightly surprised by the first thing he found inside. A picture of him and Baekhyun on the playground near Baekhyun’s apartment was the first thing he saw. Both of their faces were smudged with dirt, but the smile on Baekhyun’s eight-year-old face was ridiculously bright. Chanyeol remembered this day. This was the first time the two actually interacted with each other. They had been fighting over who would get to swing on the swing first because they had both arrived at the same time. It took a long time for Chanyeol to give in, but he allowed Baekhyun to go first because the older boy was being so dang stubborn and it just upset him to the point where he wished he’d never see him again, but Baekhyun burst into laughter and asked if they would see each other there again. Chanyeol frowned, but Baekhyun responded, “We’re friends now – you have to show up,” with that large, unforgettable smile that made Chanyeol’s heart melt. He also remembers Baekhyun’s initial surprise and then boisterous laughter at the surprise (and terror) on Chanyeol’s face when he found that the two of them attended the same elementary school too. Chanyeol laughed softly at the memory as he turned to another page.

Chanyeol flipped through the memories, recalling the stories that went along with each picture. There was a photo of Baekhyun when he was 11 in the hospital with a cast on his arm with his smile as bright as ever as though to insist that everything was okay, but Chanyeol was on the verge of tears from seeing his friend hurt. There was a picture from when Baekhyun won his first talent show, and a picture of their first day of high school. Chanyeol laughed at the pictures and memories, and smiled at Baekhyun’s face, as though his smile would exist forever – as if to tell Chanyeol that everything would be okay.

Chanyeol was a bit over three-quarters through the book when he came to a page with a single picture of him and Baekhyun lying together in the snow that was taken last Monday. There was a title across the page that said “The last week with Chanyeol before he becomes an adult!” Any traces of a smile that Chanyeol’s lips held faded slowly. On the next page, there was the picture that Baekhyun had snapped of him when he was blushing after eating all of Baekhyun’s weird (and pleasantly delicious) mixed concoction of food. On Wednesday, there was a picture of Baekhyun lying in bed with his phone on his pillow. A caption underneath it said, “Chanyeol’s sleeping. Shh!” Thursday held multiple pictures that the two of them had taken while sitting on Chanyeol’s couch, including one of Baekhyun struggling while trying to stretch his fingers across the frets of Chanyeol’s guitar. Another on the same page was of the two of them on the couch when Baekhyun sat on his lap, and Chanyeol’s eyes were closed and his lips were curled up in a small serene smile. On the page where Friday’s picture should have been, there was no picture – just a note written across the top of the page.

 ‘Ten years and together and counting (and many more to come)!’

Chanyeol froze and ran his thumb over the words neatly written in Baekhyun’s handwriting before flipping to the next page. There were no notes, and no pictures. He frowned, wondering if Baekhyun would have put pictures of them over the weekend there, and suddenly realized that that was why Baekhyun felt the need to spend the entire weekend together.

Curious, Chanyeol slowly flipped to the next page and paused.

There was a small rectangle inscribed on the paper as though Baekhyun had wanted to put another picture there, with a small, neatly scribbled note in the center of the rectangle.

“Insert picture of us together on Channie’s 18^th birthday!”

Chanyeol’s eye twitched as he placed his palm over the note and looked to the top of the page, where Baekhyun had made another header.

“Let’s continue them together!”

Chanyeol stared at the page for a while before closing the album slowly, placing it down next to him, and sighing into his hands. A somber loneliness settled over him. His mind was only filled with thoughts of how Baekhyun ought to be beside him at that moment, laughing at the memories with him, and how much he wished they could continue. Together.

He tugged at his hair as he brought his hands down and glanced around the space before staring upward. Chanyeol forced himself to stand as he watched the sun set behind the multiple buildings in his view. The cold autumn wind blew through his hair as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air.

Chanyeol’s eyesight rose to the clouds, and he reached his hand up as high as he could, extended his fingers and whispered, “Is this really the closest I can get to you…?” Chanyeol slid back into his sitting position and sighed into his hands again, quietly whining, “Why is it that it’s my birthday, but you’re not here?” Chanyeol ran his shaky hands through his hair before clasping his hands over his face again. He stayed in this position for a little over a minute before allowing himself to release a choked up sob. Once he did, he couldn’t stop.

He was still finding it hard to believe this was happening. This wasn’t how he wanted to leave Baekhyun – with unfulfilled promises and unspoken secrets. With questions, unshared kisses, and uncertainty about their future.  With anger and words that he didn’t mean, or this loneliness and pain… This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

---------------

When he returned home, his mother ushered him to the small cake on the table and re-lit the candles.

“Make a wish, Chanyeol,” she whispered softly.

Chanyeol glanced at her and blew out the candles.

She didn’t have to ask what Chanyeol wished for because it was so obvious to both of them.

But even if I wish for you to return, you won’t.

---------------

Chanyeol didn’t go to school for the rest of the week.

When the weekend came, Chanyeol didn’t attend Baekhyun’s funeral.

He figured he didn’t need to be around Baekhyun’s friends or family and cry along with them because he could cry alone in his room.

He got a few updates from Jongin. One said that Kyungsoo had started talking again. Another said that Xiumin had disappeared with a text telling him that he was leaving and not to look for him. A third said that he was always there if he needed a shoulder to cry on.

Chanyeol could easily trick himself into believing that he didn’t need anyone and that he could deal with the pain alone. But there was always something bothering him the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be alone.

Chanyeol sat in his dark, silent room as his fingers itched to do anything to keep him busy, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk with a piece of paper and wrote everything that was on his mind.

‘Dear Byun Baekhyun,

How could you leave me like this.

I didn’t know you would actually leave. I never thought you could actually leave. For some reason it just never occurred to me.

It’s crazy to think of how quickly someone can disappear from your life, despite how much you actually cared about them. One moment, you’re in my arms, and the next, you’ve vanished into thin air. You slipped between my fingers and didn’t even give me a chance to catch you.

We make plans so far ahead in the future for days that we aren’t guaranteed to have.

I told you that we’d be together forever… Does this mean that I lied to you? Did I ruin something between us that probably never even had the chance to happen?

I sit here and wonder whether Fate is cruel or if this was an accident… Is this something I’m actually supposed to go through and learn from? I don’t want to. I don’t want to go through it without you.

Every dream I have is filled with what if’s, and they all turn into nightmares. Everything I think about is about you. Does this make me crazy? Am I deranged? What have you done to me...?

I never knew I could hurt this badly.

You were my everything, Baekhyun. And when you left, you took everything away from me too.

It’s hard to breathe without you. It’s hard to sleep without you. It’s hard to live without you.

I miss you. I just thought you should know that.

I loved you. I love you. I will always love you. I’ll never let go. Never.

Love,

Chanyeol.’

Chanyeol soullessly wandered out of his room until the light of a fire from his fireplace caught his eye. He sat in front of his fireplace before he reluctantly poked the corner of the small piece of paper into the fire and watched it be engulfed by the flames before tossing the entire paper into the blaze. He stared as the words faded beneath the flames that consumed every heartfelt word that Baekhyun would never read. Chanyeol sat there wordlessly and watched the paper burn until the letter and his written feelings disappeared. But the aching in his heart remained.

********