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It was like falling down a spiral staircase, a new thought on each landing passed. At the bottom was a washing machine that was on a continuous spin cycle, repeating the thoughts over and over again in an endless loop. All Mingyu wanted was for someone to press the off button. It started small. It always started small, a passing thought that could have flown past if it were anyone else, but because it was Mingyu, it lingered, dwelled, expanded.
Sometimes, Mingyu wished his spiraling thoughts had an off button. Junhui wants to try and help.
