One night, Kyungsoo thinks to himself, would anyone notice if I disappeared? And a quick follow-up: Would anyone care?

            The thoughts spring upon him suddenly. They surprise him, even. He had never had these thoughts before and didn’t think himself capable.

            He glances at his phone again. The tiny letters stare back, unchanged. Kyungsoo, sorry! Something came up with Taeyeon. Rain check?

            Kyungsoo doesn’t think about Jongdae often, but he thinks about him now. Or specifically, about that night before graduation when the two of them sat at the perimeter of the room and watched others party on. Jongdae had leaned back with an uncharacteristically wistful look and had remarked: You know, we’ll all be going separate ways soon. Everyone will get married, and have kids, and before you know it, all you’ll have left is your own family.

It hadn’t meant much at the time, not when Kyungsoo was still drunk on the adrenaline of finally leaving college and entering adulthood. Relationships? Family? Sure, those things happened but not now, not any time soon. They still had their whole lives before them, didn’t they?

Taeyeon, Taeyeon, Taeyeon. Always Taeyeon these days.

Maybe Jongdae was more prescient than Kyungsoo gave him credit for. He taps methodically into his phone: Sure, next time.

            Then he puts it away and returns to his checklist of things to do. He likes lists; they keep him focused, give him purpose. As he moves down the items one by one, he knows he’s making progress. Progress to where? Somewhere. And tonight’s list is particularly long; there’s still packing to be done and a presentation to be prepared and dishes to be washed. It’s probably a good thing Baekhyun cancelled.

            Would Baekhyun care if I disappeared?

The thought strikes him forcefully. Suddenly, he feels exhausted. He crumples the list—what’s the point? He’s wanted to discard the list all night, and it’s only through sheer will that he’s powered through. But the more he thinks about it, the more exhausted he feels. Finally, he crawls into bed and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t even cry.

            Outside, the city whirls on in a cascade of colorful lights and dancing people. No one notices the shadows behind drawn curtains.

            Kyungsoo moves into his new apartment on a sunny Saturday morning. It’s the third floor of a three-story building that’s sandwiched between a high rise apartment complex and an office building. The area’s nice—quickly gentrifying— but not so nice that it’s completely driven out the family owned businesses. On the second floor, for example, lives the family that owns the small bookstore that occupies the first floor.

            The bookstore played a weighty role in Kyungsoo’s decision to lease this apartment. It was a quaint spot, with wood paneling, fresh flowers, and comfortable couches. It captures that peaceful, rustic charm that so entices people in the city. When Kyungsoo first wandered in, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time.

            The pretty woman who runs the shop—Yura—runs out and greets Kyungsoo with an excited but polite degree of friendliness. Her grandmother toddles after her and presents Kyungsoo with a box of fresh baked rice cakes. Kyungsoo smiles awkwardly and offers a shy thanks, even though he’s filled with genuine warmth from the gesture.

            “Let us know if you need anything!” Yura chirps with an easy grin grin. “I probably won’t be much help with the heavy lifting, but my brother should be home later in the afternoon. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to give you a hand.”

            “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Kyungsoo replies quickly, waving his hands for emphasis. “I’ll be fine! Thank you though, for everything.”

            “Sure! Look forward to being neighbors.”

            Kyungsoo finds that he too looks forward to it.

            He misses Yura’s brother that afternoon. Baekhyun calls him around four to hang out, so he drops everything and runs out, even though he hates leaving things undone. His heart lurches when he spots Taeyeon through the window of the fast food joint.

            “You remember Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says.

            Taeyeon smiles politely if distantly and nods. Kyungsoo sits stiffly on the opposite side of the table, growing more uncomfortable by the second.

            Baekhyun ends up dominating the conversation, which isn’t surprising. Kyungsoo’s never been much of a talker; Baekhyun must have dominated their every conversation since the first time they met in college. Kyungsoo used to hate it, Baekhyun’s endless chatter. The first weeks of rooming with him was sheer torture. But Baekhyun had a way of breaking through people’s hardened exteriors, and Kyungsoo was no exception. It was hard to reject friendship when you’re homesick in a strange, large city. Besides, with Kyungsoo’s aloof personality...well, beggars can’t be choosers.

            Kyungsoo isn’t sure what to make of Taeyeon. She’s a year older and dazzlingly gorgeous, but there’s a hint of reservation in her. Kyungsoo has never been good with girls in the first place, and certainly not pretty ones like Taeyeon. Her presence makes him feel out of place, extra.

            That feeling only intensifies when they move to a club after finishing their food. Kyungsoo doesn’t like clubs, how they reverberate with deafening music and how they’re steeped in the stench of sweat and alcohol. He also doesn’t like the people—their made up faces and reckless dancing. Baekhyun smiles apologetically at him. He leans over on the bar stool and yells over the music, “Sorry Soo. I just thought—Taeyeon really likes this place, and it’s Saturday, so...”

            Kyungsoo smiles wanly and shakes his head to indicate that he doesn’t mind. Kyungsoo catches Taeyeon staring at him in surprise. Or is it judgment? Surprise? Whatever, he’s not sure. She’s already tugging Baekhyun away. They become one with the gyrating mass on the dance floor. Kyungsoo feels sick. 

            “.”

            Kyungsoo rummages through his pockets one more time before finally accepting the fact that he’s lost his keys at some point during this unfortunate evening. His welcoming new abode is so close, but just beyond his reach. The landlord doesn’t answer his calls.

            With a sigh of defeat, he leans against his door and slides to the ground. It’s not even that late—he had left the club early by himself when the discomfort grew too great too bear—but he feels exhausted again. Soberly exhausted. 

            I’ll only close my eyes for a minute. Then I’ll work out a solution.

            As his eyes close, his mind drifts. He thinks about college again, that one time he locked himself out right when he needed to retrieve his notes for an important exam. In a fit of panic, he had called Baekhyun, even though he knew Baekhyun was in the middle of lab, performing some important experiment. Baekhyun pulled through though, showed up breathless but grinning as he opened the door for a surprised Kyungsoo.

            Never thought you’d need my help, he’d said cheekily.

            Kyungsoo had rolled his eyes but he secretly pegged that moment for a milestone in their friendship.

            At some point, Kyungsoo enters the phase of light dozing, where he’s periodically conscious of the fact that the chilly evening wind is nipping through his light shirt before he quickly drifts off again.

            It’s during one of these barely conscious moments that he feels someone lift him from his uncomfortable on the ground. He opens his mouth to say something, but it’s too difficult, too difficult to even raise his heavy lids.

            He dozes off again as he's carried away in the arms of a stranger.