The dial tone rung in my ear, soon followed by the same voice telling me over and over again that the number I was calling would not be reached. I pulled the phone from my ear and then pressed redial. Again, the same voice echoing through my ear. Repeat.

   After a while, the voice told me that the mailbox was full, so I started texting.  

   ‘Chansung-ah, please answer your phone.’

   ‘Chansung-ah, it’s Junsu . . . please call me.’

   ‘Chanbear, I love you, please call me back.’

   I was in the middle of typing out another message when a subtle realization hit me. I recalled a time, long ago, when I was ignoring someone’s calls. Heh, karma’s a , ain’t it? I fought off the urge to throw my phone as far as I could, that wouldn’t be wise. What if Chansung called me back? I wouldn’t be able to see it.
   I checked my phone in case he called and I just didn’t hear it.
   Only to be let down.
   What do I do now? I clung to my pillow and curled up on my bed, hearing the other’s come home from their shopping trip. I quickly got up and locked my bedroom door before someone could come in and bother me.
   As I sat down on the bed, I heard the doorknob twist a little, stopping and then footsteps walking away.
   They knew what a locked door meant.
   I missed my Chansung. I missed him so much that it was crushing around my heart, as if my ribs were collapsing. A rolled down my cheek and soaked the collar of my t-shirt. With a shaky hand, I pulled my phone out yet again and tried dialing his number, making sure it was the right number before holding the phone to my ear. ‘We’re sorry, the number you are calling cannot be reached at this time.’
   Tears filled my eyes as I fell to my side, curling up into a tight ball and sobbing pathetically.
   Work the nest day was hell.
   I had a fan signing all morning and looked like – in my opinion – since I failed to sleep more than three hours all through the night, the rest was spent curled up on the floor in tears. Junho had forced me to open the door around three in the morning, insisting that he’d get Taec to break the door down if I didn’t. We both knew the giant was more than capable of doing it, and probably would out of crankiness if he had been awaken so early in the morning.
   But as much as Junho hugged me and wiped my cheeks, rubbed my back and told me that it would be okay, it didn’t help.
   Chansung still wasn’t answering anyone’s calls, but Park Jin-Young hyung had told us that he was okay and we had to trust him.
   It was all my fault.
   And because of it, Chansung had to miss our fan signing.
   I sighed, putting on a smile and looking up at an excited looking young girl as she walked up to where I was at the table. She called me ‘oppa’ and confessed her love for me, much like many of my other fans had, countless times before. I only smiled and blushed a little, like always, telling her how thankful I was so have fans like her and then writing a quick note on the CD that she presented me with, I flipped through the pages of the attached photo book and paused a little when I saw Chansung’s face, quickly shaking my head and then finding my page, signing it and handing it back to the girl. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jang So Yeong.”
   She bowed and then rushed over to Wooyoung, almost sobbing. It was typical.
   A new fan walked up and towered over me.
   I looked up at . . . him, and then blinked.
   “You’ve got some damn nerve.” He said, leaning closer so that only I could hear him. “I knew I hated you for a reason . . . I knew it.” Joon spoke through his teeth and then placed his hands on the table, faking a smile.
   Didn’t anyone else notice that MBLAQ’s Lee Joon was standing in front of us?
   I looked around nervously and then pretending that nothing was wrong.
   Joon had big sunglasses on and a baseball cap, turned to the side. It was enough to disguise him. “What’s the matter? Afraid to make a scene in front of your fans?”
   “What are you talking about?” I blinked, staring at him.
   Joon scoffed under his breath and then laughed lightly. “You’re stupid . . . If he’s gonna leave me for you, the least you could do is accept it and let him be happy . . . You win. He’s yours, okay? So tell him to stop playing me like a toy and just . . . run away with you, or something, anything.” I saw a tear fall from behind the sunglasses and he quickly wiped it off his cheek.
   I understood.
   With a sigh, I pushed my chair back and stood up. “Come with me.” I said, walking away from the signing table, ignoring all the concerned fans and cameras. I walked to the bathroom, trusting that Joon was behind me and then locked the door when we entered.
   “What do you want?” He asked with a shaky voice.
   I looked at him and then sighed, reaching to pull the sunglasses away from his face. His eyes were an ugly shade of red and tears formed around the edges. “Joon,” I said, sadly. “I don’t want him.”
   His eyes widened.
   “That’s right . . . I don’t want him. I want Chansung.”
   “Then . . . Why would he . . . ?” He broke into tears and covered his face so I couldn’t see him.
   “Let me guess, Rain came to you last night and wanted you to take him back?” I sighed and wanted to be able to do something to make him feel better, but I knew I couldn’t.
   Joon looked at me and then snorted. “I’m ing Lee Joon . . . why do I have to be the rebound?!” His voice cracked. “It’s not fair . . .”
   There was nothing I could say to this. How do you comfort someone when you’re mostly the cause of their pain? Without thinking, I pulled him into a hug and clung as tight as I could. “I’m sorry . . . I really am. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
   Joon just cried against my shoulder for a while before finally pulling himself away from me, wiping his face. “It’s not your fault . . . I fell in love with someone who was already in love.”
   I sighed, still feeling guilty.
   “At least I know you won’t try and steal him from me.” His smile was faint.
   I shook my head. “Never in a million years . . . It took me a while, but . . . I’m over him.”
   He snorted. “That’s your loss~”
   We both laughed lightly.
   “You really love him, don’t you?” I asked, looking at the boy standing in front of me as he got himself together.
   Joon nodded, glancing in the mirror and fixing his bangs so they covered his eyes a little underneath the hat. “But he’s stuck in the past.”
   “Then you have to pull him out of it,” I smiled when he looked back at me. “I’m sure you can do it. He stayed with you all that time; there must be a reason why.”
   A glimmer of hope shined in his eyes as he smiled the slightest bit. “You think so?”
   I nodded. “I know him, he’d never do anything without a reason.”
   He looked down, blushing. “Kim Junsu,” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry . . . I don’t really hate you, I just . . . I hated that I couldn’t be you.” Joon said, looking up at me. “You’re actually a cool guy, and it makes me feel like an .” He laughed again.
   I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it~ I’d probably do the same in your shoes.” Things were quiet for all of a few seconds before we heard a knock on the door.
   “Junsu hyung,” Junho’s voice called through the door in a hushed tone. “You need to hurry up before people start wondering.”
   I sighed and then looked at Joon, holding my hand out. “Friends?”
   He nodded and took my outstretched hand, shaking it.
   Feeling a bit satisfied with myself for my maturity, and also the ability to not break down in tears, I opened the door and found Junho waiting for us. He looked at Joon and then his eyes went wide. “H-Hyung . . . what were you doing in there . . . t-together?”
   Joon snorted. “Oh please, it’s nothing like that . . . we just needed to talk.” He rolled his eyes and then smiled at me. “Thanks, again . . . I’ll see you around.” He took off in the opposite way that Junho and I did.
   I smiled a little. The kid’s got attitude . . . but he’s alright.
   Junho and I walked back to the tables and continued the fan signing as if nothing happened.
   When the signing was over we gathered the gifts a few fans had given us and made our way to the van. Wooyoung yawned and crawled in the back seat next to Khun. I pulled out my phone as I sat down in the front passenger’s seat.
   There was a voicemail.
   I clicked play and held the phone to my ear. The voice was familiar, but different, hushed and broken . . . but I knew it well.
   ‘Hyung,’ Chansung’s voice said in the speaker of my phone. ‘I’m sorry I left like that . . . I just – I needed to think about some things . . . I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me, okay? It would be hard to be in the same band if you hated me . . . and I love you.’ There was silence for a moment. ‘But I can’t stand in the way of him anymore. I just . . . I-I feel – I can’t hold you back . . . as much as I want to, I can’t do that to you . . . So I’m gonna move out of the dorm for a little while, until I can be happy for you. B-Bye.’
   The phone almost fell out of my hand but I caught it, staring in horror. I replayed the message to make sure I heard everything right, blinking. No.
   I dialed Jin-Young hyung’s number and jumped out the car, hearing the others ask me what was wrong and ignoring them. ‘Hello?’ Jin-Young hyung answered the phone.
   “Hyung-nim!!” I said quickly. “Where is he?!”
   ‘Ah . . . what?’ He was bewildered.
   I wanted to growl but focused hard on maintaining a level of respect. “Where’s Chansung? I know you know where he is, so please tell me, it’s an emergency.”
   ‘Junsu-yah,’ He sighed. ‘I really think you should give him some space . . .’
   Was this really happening? I closed my eyes and growled into the phone in a tone that would have shamed my mother if she heard me talking to Park seonsaengnim that way. “Tell me where he is right now.”
   The line was quiet and I was afraid that he hung up, then I heard a sigh.
   ‘He’s going to be staying at the 2AM dorm for a while . . . But he’s on his way to the airport now – probably there already . . . He’s got a flight to Japan in just over an hour.’
   “What airline, hyung?” I asked quietly.
   ‘Korean Air.’ He said.
   Before I could even register my own actions, I had stepped towards the edge of the street, spotting a taxi. ‘Junsu-yah, are you there?’ Jin-Young hyung asked into the phone.
   “Thank you, hyung . . . I’ll call you back later.” I closed my phone and put it in my pocket, getting inside the taxi as he stopped in front of me. I looked at the driver. “I’ll pay you double if you get me to Incheon International in less than an hour.” The driver nodded and then took off. I could see Taec standing near the street as he stared at the taxi as it drove away.
   I spend the car ride ignoring the swarm of text messages I’d gotten from my confused band mates. It wasn’t until every last one of them called me that I answered my phone. “Junsu hyung?!” Junho’s worried voice said.
   “Tell everyone to stop calling me, I know where Chansung is and I’m going to get him.” I hung up before anymore words could be said.
   I stared out the window, feeling the regret of so much deep inside me. I wished I had been more clear with my feelings. I wished I had actually admitted, out loud, how much I not only needed, but wanted to be with Chansung. I couldn’t let him get on that plane without knowing the truth.
   When the taxi stopped at the airport, I paid the driver just as I expected and then jumped out of the car, nearly running to the gate that said “Korean Air”. I pulled out my wallet, looking around and then wishing I would have brought my sunglasses. I covered my face halfway with my hand as I walked, noticing one person stare at me as I made my way to the line. Fortunately, it was Wednesday . . . not many people fly at one pm in the middle of the work week. I only stood in line for a minute or two. I glanced at tall the flights, looking at when the next flight to Japan was going out.
   Twenty-five minutes. There was still hope for me yet.
   “Hello, thank you for choosing Korean Air, how may I help you today?” The woman said behind the counter.
   “I need a ticked on the next flight to Nagoya, business class, preferably.” I looked through my wallet, pulling out the small cold credit card that I was allowed to use for ‘emergencies’ only. I think this counted as such.
   “I’ll need to see your passport as well as photo ID,” She said, typing some things in on the computer. “And . . . there’s one business seat left.”
   I nodded, thankful that I had let Nichkhun talk me into keeping my passport inside my wallet at all times. What a smart guy. I pulled out my credentials and handed them to the woman, waiting for her to do whatever it was she was doing. This was taking too long. I had to get through security, didn’t she realize that?!
   “Is there some way we could hurry this up?” I asked desperately.
   She glanced at me and then rolled her eyes. “Please sir, it’ll be a moment.”
   After an agonizing minute, she stamped my passport and then handed it back to me, along with my ID, credit card and a boarding pass. I bowed and then ran toward security.
   I could hear a voice ring over a speaker. ‘Now boarding flight three sixteen in gate forty-eight-b’. I looked down at my boarding pass. . That’s my flight.
   Why does it always seem like time is standing still whenever you’re in a hurry?
   I stepped forward, finally taking my shoes and belt off, pulling my earrings out and taking off my watch as I dumped all my belongings into a tray and sent them through the scanner, passing through the metal detector. I glared at the machine to make sure it didn’t go off, smirking at the green light of approval it showed and then gathered up all my stuff, just barely putting my shoes on as I shoved everything in my pockets and took off running towards the gate.
   I saw a clock on the wall and my heart raced. The flight was going to take off in five minutes. I dodged a few people, jumping over someone’s luggage as I ran to the gate, hoping to god there weren’t any angry security guards with a stick up their for running airport patrons.
   That’s when I heard another voice ring through the airport over the loud speaker.
   ‘Final boarding for flight three sixteen in gate forty-eight-b.’
   I pushed myself further, catching sight of the sign for the gate up ahead. I kept running, knowing that I was only seconds away from reaching my destination.

To be continued . . .