05:07 AM, New York

It took him three years - to waste his time, to think what's right, to finally admit he was wrong at any point or angle. Three years of putting up a makeshift facade that looks intimidating on its exterior, but truly a turmoil in his interior. No one have guessed, not even himself, on how he managed to go by at such a long time with all the hell that he caused, that he received, and had continued to endure during those three long years. He went in to enlist in the army, and after he went out, flew to Tokyo for a pseudo flight and finally landed in New York. To somehow pursue their his dreams of moulding their his acting and singing skills to perfection; if you put one and one together, all they he wanted was to retire not just as a Super Junior member but also as a great musical actor.

Tonight, or rather at the break of the dawn, he finds himself with an extraordinary vigour - which he most likely borrowed from drinking too much wine, a pastime he so loved but is now a painful reminder of a past he has yet to revisit. As he was walking along a boulevard full of Broadway theatres, something had hit home. He never realized that the lack of inspiration and determination was because there should have been something, rather, someone beside him, realizing these dreams with him, hand-in-hand. He had to call home.

He finds himself inside of a telephone booth, one that people fancy to see in movies, but right now his life runs on a film, dramatic yet he has to face the reality. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and searched for the number he so dreaded to dial after obtaining it from a friendly and understanding manager. This is it, he thought. He also felt his pocket for spare change, and thought it was funny that he had to resort to calling him from a telephone booth, in a foreign country, on a humid spring dawn, when he can easily dial it on his Kakao Talk application. He snickered at his own cowardice. But then the anonymity of the number would provide cover for him in case his half-assed bravery would fail him.

He dialled the country code, and the area code as prompted by the operator, and as he was close to finish entering the whole number, his courage starts to drip like his sweat, and he feels like he was about to faint. He fans himself as the operator connects his call, and the first ring startled him like a siren for the fire alarm. What a way to completely sober him up. He thinks it’s not yet the right time.

But he had to call home.

⧞⧞⧞

07:13 PM, Seoul

Kyuhyun was going home from his mother’s café, all tired because as what always happen when he’s there, he held  a mini-fan meeting as a way of saying thanks. He is also about to enlist the following month and he does all he can to show his love to his fans.

As he was about to doze of inside the company service van, he noticed a missed call on his phone. A foreign number? Strange. he thought. But as much as his curiosity would want to know from whom was the missed call, he dismissed it as another stalker. After all, it really happens to people like him, a famed celebrity.

Oh, how wrong was that hunch.

⧞⧞⧞

05:29 AM, New York // 07:29 PM, Seoul

Sungmin was tempted to give up, but as he thought of all the things that must be said and done, he thinks this is the most right thing to do; to break his silence, to finally let go of all his inhibitions and just let the other line to decide. So he dialled again, went through the operator, and was connected to Seoul.

The first and second rings were left unanswered, and as seconds fly by, he felt uneasy, starting to perspire even more, and finally, after the third ring stopped, it was a sign to never back out from, hopefully, his path to redemption.

~ NOTE: This is Sungmin’s, rather a second-person POV, only the statements inside the “” are from Kyuhyun. ~

“Hello…?” a faint, uneasy, but all familiar voice from the other line.

“H-hi… Kyuhyun-ah?” his voice was somehow quivering, silently hoping he’d be recognized, instead of having him introduce himself. It’s more painful harder for him.

“Who’s this?” ah, his heart broke at the tone of unfamiliarity, but he can’t blame him.

Sungmin hesitated but continued nonetheless.

“It’s… Sungmin…” he was very apprehensive and he was praying so hard that the line won’t be cut.

Deadly silence for a few seconds. Then the other line finally replied.

“Hey I’m not up for pranks today, man. I’m dead tired. You go to sleep ‘cos I definitely will. Goodn---”

“Hey! Kyuhyun don’t put it down yet! This is really Sungmin. I’m sorry to bother you but I got a lot to say. Please.” Sungmin ran out of words to convince him not to cut the line.

A thud of luggage falling on the floor.

“H-hyung…?” a secondary shattering of the tiny broken pieces of his heart commenced. Hyung. He never heard that word from him, much more as a term Kyuhyun used to address him. He was never “hyung” to Kyuhyun. But still, he won’t blame him.

“Y-yes… This is Sungmin-hyung… See, Kyuhyun-ah, I know it’s been a while and I know this is so sudden but I’m calling you from New York and I’m really having a hard time right now…”

Kyuhyun coughed, interrupted him, but the tone of his voice was akin to uncertainty.

“H-hyung, maybe you need to talk to Leeteuk-hyung? Maybe he can help you more than I could…? Don’t you think that’s better?”

A gulp from Kyuhyun was heard as the cogwheels on Sungmin’s brains were turning. Was Kyuhyun rejecting him now? He knew him too well to know that Kyuhyun was just buying his way out from the conversation. He clearly hates Sungmin.

“Kyuhyun… This isn’t something that Leeteuk-hyung can help me out with. To be honest with you, I wanted to talk about…us.” he paused before he pronounced that last word. It pricked his little broken heart to think that perhaps, Kyuhyun was over about the concept of an “us” by now. But he had to be brave to finish his stint on the payphone.

“I know I messed up… and I am really remorseful of leaving you just like that…