Archive of Our Own

The night Jaehyun met Woonhak was a night like any other. He'd been binge drinking for weeks at that point. He had a whole routine — he'd drink for hours, go home just to piss off his parents and maybe take a nap, then leave and drink some more. 

(He's still not sure why he ever started drinking; he just knew that one day he had a bottle in his hand, and he liked it. He liked it just enough to make him forget how much he hated the person it transformed him into, the new face that stared at him whenever he looked in the mirror.) 

It was a good routine. Days blurred together, molded into each other, and he managed to forget that he was just a tiny cell floating alone in the universe. He forgot everything of matter; all that remained were him and his bottles. Nothing could touch him in that cage he'd locked himself into. 

Until one day, something snapped him to reality. He heard someone arguing, looked up, and saw some kid asking for soju. He looked so heartbroken when the bartender told him to get out, and it made something in Jaehyun’s chest twist in recognition. 

Now, Jaehyun isn't always generous. But he had soju, and that kid seemed to really want a taste of it, and… honestly, and he'll never say it out loud, but that night he was worried for him. 

Look, Jaehyun was past the point of regret. But he thought to himself, that night — if someone doesn't help this poor kid, he'll end up just like me. Because someone was bound to give him alcohol at some point, and if he was left to deal with it by himself, Jaehyun knew he might never let it go, just like he hadn't either. 

So he went after the kid. He found him sitting on the curb in front of the bar, looking troubled and lost in thought. He was downright rude when Jaehyun tried talking to him, but despite that, he didn't leave. That was something good, at least. 

Jaehyun did end up giving him some soju, just enough to make him realize it's not all as great as he might've thought. They spent the whole night together, hopping through town. Jaehyun kept drinking, but he kept an eye on Woonhak, made sure he wasn’t doing the same. 

It was surprisingly nice to not be alone, for once. Jaehyun had thought he'd outgrown that childish need to be with people, but just a few hours in Woonhak's company, and all he wanted was more. He couldn't understand why; there was just something about the kid. He was so lovely and fragile, and Jaehyun could tell he'd been hurt a lot, so all he wanted was to wrap him up and keep him safe. 

Those are strong feelings for a screw-up like Jaehyun to have. 

They ended the night walking to the bridge, the quiet one, where no one ever goes unless they're trying to kill themselves. They staggered right over to the edge and watched the river quietly. 

Jaehyun looked at Woonhak. He was staring hard at the water, his face a complete blank. 

“What's your deal?” Jaehyun asked, quietly, voice barely breaking over the sounds of the water rushing under them. Woonhak's eyes slowly trailed from the river, up to him. “Hm? What's your problem, Woonhak?” 

He asked it like it was a given that there was a problem with him, because — well, wasn't it? Clearly there was something very wrong with him. Possibly something made from the same material as whatever was wrong with Jaehyun. 

“My problem?” Woonhak looked back at the water, his face still carefully empty, the way it had been the whole time they'd spent on the bridge. “My problem is that I'm going to live forever.” 

He said it like it was a curse, something he dreaded, and yet something he had to endure nonetheless… it almost sounded like a confession. And maybe, if Jaehyun’s mind had been just a little bit less foggy, he would've wondered about it. 

Instead, all he did was snort into his bottle of soju. “Aren't we all,” he said, then took a big gulp of the drink. 

He realized, as he said it, that he really meant it. Just a few hours before he’d thought he’d drink himself to death one day; and yet now, after meeting Woonhak, things had changed. He decided he might want to live, after all. 

Besides, if Woonhak lived forever, he'd probably like to have some company. 

******

Woonhak is acting weird. 

He has been acting weird the whole ride. Jaehyun tried not to pay too much attention to him — he has a travel-sized bottle of rum that he's been sipping on, and he's sitting in the passenger seat so he can look out the window more comfortably, and he's actually enjoying himself. He always likes hanging out with the guys, and they're all here today, except Sungho. It's nice. 

But he can still see that Woonhak is acting weird, and it weighs on him, too. It's like Woonhak's tension bleeds out of his body and seeps into Jaehyun — and the worst thing is that he doesn't even know what's wrong. Though to be honest, he's not sure that he wants to know, anyway. 

So he just turns his eyes, focuses straight at the road ahead, and hums along to the music. Tries to, at the very least — Woonhak is wearing an unfortunately bright orange jacket, and it all but flashes in Jaehyun’s eyes whenever he turns his head a little. So he doubles down his drinking. Whatever is going on with Woonhak, he won't let it ruin a perfectly good evening. 

By the time they reach the amusement park (with Taesan as their very careful driver, GPS on and everything), his rum is all gone and he feels the itch for another drink. 

They all get out of the car slowly, once Taesan parks close to the entrance. Jaehyun stretches his stiff legs, then turns to the others with a grin. 

“Well, we're here,” he says. “Let's go in.” 

“Wait,” Woonhak says quickly, glancing all around them. “Let's take a look out here first, before we go in?” 

“Why?” Riwoo asks, leaning against the car. He tries to make it seem casual, but Jaehyun knows it's probably his disease acting up again. It's a miracle he's even here at all. 

“I dunno, let's just stay here for a few minutes,” Woonhak shrugs vaguely. 

“But why, though?” Taesan presses. 

Woonhak presses his lips tightly, face red, avoiding all their looks. “Fine!” He finally bursts. “I ran into Sungho today and I told him — I told him about the amusement park and that he can meet us here if he wants, and I thought he'd be here by now but…” 

He trails off, looking around the parking lot. There's nothing but cars and the five of them here. No traces of Sungho, not one clue that he might be somewhere around, waiting to meet up with them. It shoots a pang through his heart — it's been really long since they last saw him. Longer than usual, longer than it's ever been for any of them. He's starting to think that maybe… who knows, maybe they'll never see him again. 

So he can't help but wonder, “What did he look like?” 

Woonhak shrugs, barely meeting his eye. “I dunno. He got a buzzcut.” 

A buzzcut. It hurts Jaehyun like he's the one who cut his hair; though that probably wouldn't have been such a big deal. 

“Sounds like he's got a lot on his plate. Maybe that's why he didn't come,” Leehan says lightly, like this isn't such a big deal, like Sungho disappearing for months and cutting off his hair isn't huge. But maybe he doesn't want to upset Woonhak any further. “We'll just have extra fun, for him.” 

“Yeah,” Riwoo agrees easily. “Let's go, guys. There's no use staying here.” 

They start to move, but it becomes obvious, after a few steps, that Woonhak isn't walking with them. 

“You're not coming?” Jaehyun asks. 

Woonhak shakes his head. “No, you go ahead… I think I'll just go back.” 

“We can do something else, if you're not up to this,” Taesan offers. 

“Yeah, we can go watch a movie or something,” Leehan says. 

“No, really, it's fine. I think I'll just take a walk instead,” Woonhak insists. He finally looks at them, gives them a smile. It's so obviously fake that it makes Jaehyun a bit nervous, but before he can dwell on it too much, Woonhak goes on: “You should go have fun. I'll be fine on my own.” 

“You sure?” Riwoo asks, an uncertain look on his face. 

“Yup,” Woonhak says, already turning away. 

“Promise?” Leehan asks. 

Woonhak sighs. “Sure.”

There's a thousand things that Jaehyun could say right now. Even in his half-drunk mind, he already knows that this isn't right, that he should do something. Woonhak is clearly not okay — for some reason, Sungho not showing up here rattled him a lot, and for him to go off all alone… Well, it just makes Jaehyun worry, for no reason that he'll want to name. 

There's so many things he could say. Like let's talk or or chin up or hey, kid, I love you. So many ways he could reach out to him, to at least try and help. 

But that's not what they do. They don't help each other; they ignore each other's problems, like that'll make them go away. And besides, he really needs a drink; if Woonhak wants to be angsty and weird, that's his choice. Jaehyun would rather go into the amusement park and get a drink than stay here and talk about their feelings the whole night. 

So he doesn't say any of that. 

Instead, he says, “Alright, then. See you around.” 

Something in Woonhak's face seems to shatter and harden all at once. He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and turns away. He throws it over his shoulder, without even looking at them — “Yeah. Bye.” 

And then he's gone. Jaehyun watches him walk away, the moonlight shining down on his bright orange jacket, wobbling like his feet aren't even working right. He's not fine. 

And yet, Jaehyun lets him leave. 

He turns around too, goes to the amusement park, and tries to focus on the fact that at least he still has three of his friends here. At least tonight, he's not alone. 

He does get that drink that he wanted, and then he gets another one, and by the time the night is over — they've gone on all the rides they wanted, ate enough candy floss to get sick, won whatever plushies they thought were cute — he's had six drinks, and he still itches for more. 

They decide to leave, once too many people have filtered out and the place starts to look depressing. They go back to the car and Taesan drives this time too. The plan is to stop near the central park, where everyone can walk back to their homes, but they decide last-minute to go to the bridge instead. It's quiet there, they reason, and at this time of night the moon shines down on the water and it makes it look so beautiful, like a second sky full of stars. It's always so peaceful out there. 

But this time around, it's not quiet, it's not beautiful, and it's definitely not peaceful. 

There's a police car parked near their usual spot. Two policemen are talking to a couple — the woman is hysterical, sobbing loudly, fretting around, while the man is strangely quiet and pale. There's an ambulance, too. 

Two paramedics are hunched over a body, right at their usual spot. Jaehyun remembers when this felt like the safest place in the world to them — and now it'll forever be tainted by this memory. The paramedics performing CPR, and the terrifyingly still, wet body that they're trying to reanimate. 

“No…” Someone whispers, one of the guys, but Jaehyun doesn't think too much about it. Because this isn't real. This isn't happening. That bad feeling in his stomach, it's just that — just a bad feeling. Irrational. Because Woonhak promised he'd be fine. 

But there's no denying it. He takes a few steps closer, drawn to the grotesque scene even though all he wants is to run away, and he sees it. The bright orange jacket. 

The body on the ground… is wearing a bright orange jacket. 

One of Taesan's favorite pastime habits used to be doing petty crimes. He liked the thrill of the action, putting his mind to work like a puzzle, catching the easiest targets; he liked grabbing wallets, phones, or whatever else, it didn't matter. He liked the run when cops chased after him, the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. 

What he liked the most was the occasional night in jail, whenever he did end up getting caught; because a night in jail meant getting bailed out by his parents, and getting bailed out meant a lecture. He liked that, having their attention on him for more than five minutes. They always said such awful things to him, but it didn't even matter, because otherwise they never even acknowledged his existence. 

So one day, two months ago, he went out looking for trouble. He stole some rich lady's wallet, got caught, went to jail. It was pretty much routine at that point. Then he called his father's office from the jail station phone — that ten-minute phone call they always gave him — hoping to tell him about the bail… but his father didn't answer. 

Panic started to swim in his guts, but he tried to push it down. Maybe his father was busy, right? Or maybe, for once in his life, he left the office early. But surely he'd call back, or surely he'd realize that Taesan was missing from home. He'd have to know what happened, that his disaster of a son landed himself in jail again. And then he'd bail him out and take him home, and he'd spend the whole twenty-minute ride to their house lecturing him on what a disappointment he is, and Taesan would look all serious on the outside, but deep inside he'd be happy like a little kid, because at least his father would be talking to him. 

But morning came, and his father hadn't bailed him out. Then the whole day passed. Two, three days passed, and Taesan was still stuck in jail. Then it was almost a week later, and the policemen were talking about moving Taesan to an actual jail, and saying stuff about trials and state-appointed lawyers and whatever, and Taesan was starting to worry because… really? His parents really weren't coming for him? 

And then on the seventh day a policeman finally opened his door. Taesan almost couldn't move, scared shitless that this was it, they were definitely moving him to an actual jail, he'd go through a trial and he'd be found guilty and his parents wouldn't save him this time, they'd let him rot in jail for months, maybe even years, and his friends wouldn't even know what happened to him and —

But the policeman gave him a nod. “Come,” he said. “You're free to go.” 

Taesan still stood there, frozen. “What?” He managed to utter. 

The policeman shrugged. “Yeah, someone paid your bail, so you can go. And hey! — don't come back here again, okay kid? Stay out of trouble.” 

Taesan bit his lip, then nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure…”

He was happy, but hesitantly so, deep down still wondering what had happened to make his parents finally bail him out, after so long. Maybe they'd heard he would be moved soon? Or maybe they'd heard about the potential trial, and they didn't want to have that — it would be bad for the family business, for sure, it would affect stock sales. Surely that must've been what happened. 

But when he went into the lobby, it wasn't any of his parents, the secretary, the cook, the maid — no one from home was waiting for him. 

Instead it was Woonhak, sitting on one of those plastic chairs, looking very comfortable as he waited.

“Woonhak?” Taesan rushed over to him. Woonhak jumped at his voice, but he gave him a smile as he got closer. 

“Hi Taesan!” He said in a chirpy voice. 

“You… you bailed me out?” Taesan gaped at him like a fish out of water. “How did you even know I was in jail?”

Woonhak shrugged. “Figured it was probably that.” 

“Why…” 

Woonhak looked away, blushing as he explained, “You've been gone almost a week. I always check the police station when you're gone a long time.” 

Taesan felt so touched, he thought he might burst into tears. To think that his parents hadn't even bothered to show up, and here was Woonhak, actually looking for him. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. 

He wanted to thank him, to tell him he shouldn't have worried, to admit that he cares about him too, just as much. What came out was, “Where did you even get the money?” 

Woonhak scratched the back of his head, still not looking at him. “Dad's savings account,” he explained. “He won't figure it out, don't worry.” 

“... You sure he won't?” 

Woonhak gave him a tight smile. “Let's leave, come on, don't you want to get out of here already?” 

Taesan furrowed his eyebrows, then sighed. “Yeah, let's go.” 

“Good!” Woonhak grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Then he sniffed him, and stepped back away. “No offense, but you really need a shower.” 

Taesan laughed. “I guess,” he said. “Let's get some breakfast first, I think I'll go home afterwards.” 

“You sure?” Woonhak asked. 

“Yeah, it's been a while. They might miss me over there.” But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. “Um, hey, thanks for this. And don't worry, I'll pay you back… and for breakfast maybe…? Cause you know, I don't have any money on me so…” 

Woonhak laughed, the kind of bright laugh that made his whole face scrunch up. Taesan hadn't seen a real laugh come out of him in a long time. 

“I figured,” Woonhak said. “I think there's a diner down the street, if you wanna go there.” 

So that's where they went. They had waffles and eggs and coffee, and it was all delicious. They had to share everything, because Woonhak didn't have enough money for two portions, but it was still nice. Taesan took that breakfast as a breather, a chance to prepare himself, to get ready before he had to face his family again. 

But when he went back home, no one was there. His mother was probably with the gardener or whatever, his father was probably at work or, more likely, with some secretary… Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were both home, but they just didn't care enough to come out and see him. 

Not that it mattered. He took a shower, then a long-needed nap, and then afterwards, when it was late enough, he went out, looking for trouble again. Because he's already a failure, so he might as well keep acting like one, right? 

******

It all happens in a blur. 

One moment they're parking the car close to the bridge, the other they notice the policemen, the ambulance, that unconscious body on the ground, and it feels like the world is ending. 

“No…” Leehan whispers, and it's enough to rattle something out of Taesan's chest, a scream or a cry or something like that, something loud and absolutely heartbroken. He immediately pushes past all them, past the policemen and the couple, tries to get as close to Woonhakie as possible because he needs to do something. 

He doesn't get so far as to actually touch him. He barely reaches the paramedics when one of the policemen grabs him and holds him back. 

“That's my friend!” He shouts, struggling and failing to push out of his grip. “Wait, that's my friend! Let me see him!” 

“Do you know this person?” The policeman asks. 

“Yes, he's my friend! Let me —” 

“Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down.” 

“But he's —” 

“Let the paramedics do their job,” Riwoo says, pushing down on Taesan's shoulder as firmly as he can. That's the only thing that manages to settle him down, at least for the time being, at least enough so he can peer at Woonhak's body. 

He still can't see his face — which is probably a blessing in disguise; but he can see one of his hands, and it sends shivers down his spine. 

There's nothing wrong with the hand, per se, but it's just way too still. It looks blue, and there's a paramedic pushing into his chest and that hand is so fucking — lifeless —... And it's just not right. It's not right. 

There's so many things he wants to know, but just by looking at that hand he can tell what happened. After all, he remembers the way he looked when he left — when they let him leave. He remembers all the times when Woonhak would go quiet in the middle of a conversation or how he'd always stare at the water or even all those times he disappeared without a trace, only to show up again weeks later like nothing wrong had ever happened. 

It was just a matter of time, really. 

And with that realization, a deep grief settles over him. There's static in his ears; he's all alone with his thoughts, and the image of Woonhak's lifeless hand, and this grief that has nowhere to go. He doesn't even realize it when he starts to cry. 

Woonhakie was always sad… but was it really this bad? He never thought — 

But that's a lie, isn't it, because he did think that. A few times, actually. Woonhak would go all blank or he'd snap at them over the smallest things or that conversation they had right here, just the two of them, when Taesan was nothing but bleak and discouraging. He did think that it was maybe worse than it seemed, but he was always so caught up in all the shit at home, and Woonhak always seemed to have a handle on it. 

He should've done something. And now it's too late. 

And then—

“We've got a pulse!” 

All of a sudden, hope sparks in his chest. It might not be over; Woonhakie might still be alive. 

They haven't failed him yet. 

He watches as the paramedics start to load him into the ambulance, itching to do something, anything — needing to help somehow, but he's afraid that if he gets any closer to the paramedics, he might get in the way or something. He needs to let them work, because between him and them, they're the ones who just might save his baby.

But Jaehyun clearly doesn't have the same concerns. 

As the last paramedic jumps into the ambulance, Jaehyun pushes past all of them, elbowing the policeman when he tries to grab him, and shouts, “Wait, let me go with him!” 

“Sir, are you drunk?” One of the paramedics asks, hand on the door of the ambulance like she's ready to shut it in their faces. 

“I'm sober as fuck, now let me in!” Jaehyun says, grabbing onto the wall of the ambulance. The policeman immediately pulls him back, and Jaehyun grunts and struggles in his hold, much like Taesan did earlier. 

“If any of you is sober, you can come with us. Otherwise, you'll be able to see him in the hospital.” 

“I'm sober!” Taesan says, rushing closer to the doors of the ambulance. 

“Wait, but we need you to drive us to the hospital,” Leehan says, pulling on his sleeve. “I’ve had a beer, I can't drive.”

Well, he definitely can't now, not when he said that next to the policeman. 

“Someone has to go with Woonhak,” Jaehyun says. 

“Sirs, if you can't decide we'll have to go without you,” the paramedic says, in a firm but not unkind sort of way. 

“I'll go with him,” Riwoo says, pushing past all of them. He gives them a defiant look, as if daring anyone to disagree with him, but nobody does. The paramedic helps him into the ambulance. 

“Take care of him, okay?” Jaehyun says, stumbling closer so he can grasp his pants. “Hold his hand. He never admits it, but he likes it when we hold his hand.” 

Like that'll help, Taesan thinks bitterly. Like this is just what Woonhak needs — someone to hold his hand now, instead of before. 

Riwoo looks like he wants to say something, but before he can, the paramedics are shutting the doors and the ambulance drives off, lifting a trail of dust in their faces. The night becomes quiet, at least for a few moments. 

“Can you tell us the boy's name?” The policeman asks, turning to them. 

Taesan throws him a dirty look, more annoyed than anything, and he realizes… he realizes that he doesn't even know Woonhak's full name. 

God. He doesn't even know his name. 

Why did he never ask? 

Instead of answering, he huffs and makes his way back to the car, hands shaking in anger and frustration and… well, everything. He sits in the driver's seat, wondering quietly how on earth he'll manage to drive to the hospital without crashing this car. But he'll have to do it, somehow. He needs to see Woonhak again, to know that he's fine. 

Jaehyun joins him a few moments later, but he gets in the backseat this time. Leehan talks to the policeman for another minute, but he comes to them quickly, too, and sits in the backseats next to Jaehyun. A smart decision; Taesan feels like somehow, they'd manage to get on his nerves if they were any closer to him.

The drive to the hospital is silent, save for Jaehyun’s soft sobs — it makes Taesan want to scream, but he holds it in. They're lucky that the street is pretty empty, otherwise they'd for sure get in an accident; Taesan's hands are too shaky, too unstable, and he just can't seem to focus — that image of the bright orange sleeve keeps flashing in his mind.

But they get to the hospital without a scratch, so now all they have to do is get in and see what the hell is going on with their baby. 

He doesn't even close his door as he gets out of the car, and he's pretty sure the engine is still running — not that it matters. He's the first one to run through the hospital door, but Jaehyun pushes past him a moment later, nearly slamming him into a wall as he looks for Riwoo. The nurses and all the people waiting here give them judgey looks, but they ignore them all. Like they don't have bigger problems? 

They find Riwoo on a bench with a glass of water in his hands, staring blankly at the wall. He doesn't even notice them until Jaehyun shakes his shoulder. 

“Oh,” he says, startled, nearly spilling the water. “You got here early.” 

“How's he doing?” Leehan asks, sitting next to him. 

A dark look crosses Riwoo’s face. “I don't know,” he admits. “He's stable for now, I guess. They said he's in the ICU.” 

“Did you get to talk to him?” Taesan asks, already knowing that's unlikely, still hoping in his heart that it might've happened. 

Riwoo scoffs — a cruel, hope-shattering sound. “He's not even awake yet, Taesanie. They don't know when he'll wake up. It could be a few days, if ever.” 

His eyebrows twitch, annoyed at Riwoo. That Taesanie, like he's a kid. The way he speaks so casually, like stuff like this happens everyday, like it's completely normal to have one of your friends try to kill himself and go into a coma. 

“So then what do we do?” He asks, barely managing to stay calm. 

“We wait,” Jaehyun says defeatedly, sitting on the bench too. 

And this time, Taesan can't hold it in. It just blurts out of him — “They don't have any alcohol in the hospital. You know that, right?” 

Jaehyun lifts his tired eyes to him. “Fuck you, man.” 

“No, fuck you! All of you, go to hell!” He snaps, getting agitated, the image of that damn orange sleeve still on his mind. 

“Calm down,” Leehan says, like that'll help. “You know it's not our fault that he did this.” 

“Isn't it?!” 

Jaehyun’s face drops, a little, but he swallows hard and says, “You don't mean that.”

“We were supposed to take care of him!” Taesan goes on, completely ignoring Jaehyun. “We — fuck, I mean… —” 

They really screwed it up this time. They never explicitly said that they'd take care of Woonhak, but he is the youngest and loveliest of them all, and somehow it got into their heads that he's the most fragile, too — at least they were right on that. And Woonhak never really talks about his family or if he has other friends, so they figured that he's pretty much all alone, that he pretty much only has the five of them. Why wouldn't they take care of him, then? 

But they screwed it up. They let him go off on his own and he decided to jump off a bridge, and Taesan can't help but feel responsible for that. 

He can't stop thinking about the past, about all the obvious cries for help that they ignored over and over again. They never did anything to help — and now, they're still not doing anything. 

And it's just as he starts to despair that he realizes that there might be something he can do. And it'll give him a reason to get away from here. 

He turns around and starts to leave without saying another word. Riwoo screams at him — “Don't be an asshole and just sit here with us!” — but he ignores him. He can be an asshole, if that means that he gets away from here. At least Woonhak will be happy, once he wakes up and he sees what Taesan did for him. 

He doesn't take the car, partly because the house isn't so far anyway, mostly because he really needs the walk. Besides, it's still late at night. Sungho might not even come out until the morning. 

He gets to the house after about an hour. Luckily there's a small park close to it, so he doesn't look like a total creep while he waits for Sungho. He sits on a bench, eyes fixed on the cold-looking house — with its tidy porch and impossibly perfect-cut grass — and waits. Sungho will have to get out at some point, and when he does, Taesan will be ready. Because Woonhak wanted to see him, and whatever Woonhak wants, Taesan will do it for him. 

Riwoo's disease was, on its best days, an annoying, nagging companion through life, and on its worst days, a downright torturous enemy that won't let him be. And those worst days became even worse whenever Riwoo got new doses of his treatment. 

That's why it was so hard for him to hide his pain, whenever he was around his friends. It's not like he was ashamed of it or anything, but he didn't want to be that guy — like they don't all have problems? And besides, he had this awful thought that if he ever told them about the disease, it would make it real. Even more real than the regular hospital visits and all the meds in his house and those terrified, anguished looks his parents got whenever they looked at him for too long. 

Besides, things were so good with the guys. They had only one, unspoken, rule: they'd never talk about the things that were wrong with them. They'd never talk about everything bad in the world, anything going on in their lives, that whirlpool that caused them so much anguish. Whenever they were together, they tried to ignore all that. 

It's a good rule, somewhat. It worked, for a while at least, and Riwoo always did his best to respect it. Even when it was hard to do so. 

One day they were all together, which was pretty much a small miracle, so they decided to do something fun, like take a boat to the river. The problem was that Riwoo had just taken one of the treatments the day before, and he was still feeling dizzy from it. But he didn't want to say anything, because he knew that would spoil the fun — they'd all get uncomfortable, they'd feel awkward, and it would just be more trouble than it was worth. 

Besides, he knew that Leehan would definitely skip the boat if he knew that Riwoo was even remotely sick from it. They were still together-ish at that time — it was before Riwoo got those terrible test results, before he freaked out and ruined everything, just like he always seemed to do. If Leehan thought he wasn't up for the boat, he would've skipped it too, in a heartbeat; they could've spent some time together, sort of like a date, and it would've been fun, sure. But Riwoo also knew that Leehan really wanted to go on that boat, that he was pretty much obsessed with anything involving water, and holding him back from that was just… no, it was something that Riwoo could never do to him. 

But he also couldn't get on that boat, unless he wanted to puke his guts out. He didn't know what to do. He almost thought to run away, but he was having such a nice time. 

He was in the middle of a pretty lame dilemma, when all of a sudden, Woonhak walked up to him. He nudged his shoulder and said, “Hey, I saw a donut place down the street. Do you wanna skip this and go check it out while they do the boat stuff?” 

Riwoo raised his eyebrow, feeling so relieved and still a little suspicious. “I thought you wanted to go with them, though?” 

Woonhak made a face. “No, definitely not. I… I get seasick.” 

Which was a ridiculous excuse, Riwoo could just tell; but he could also tell that Woonhak, for some reason, hated the boat, or maybe the water, or maybe he just wasn't in the mood — and he didn't want to talk about it. But Riwoo wasn't up to it either, and Woonhak had been kind enough not to mention his condition, so Riwoo would extend to him the same courtesy. 

So they went to the donut place. Riwoo couldn't have more than half of one donut, so he gave the other half to Woonhak; the kid scarfed it down like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten in his life. They ended up talking about some drama that Riwoo had binged recently, and Woonhak told him about a book of poetry he was reading, and by the time the others got back from the boat, Riwoo had managed to forget he'd ever felt sick at all. 

And it wasn't weird to anyone, even though it was obvious the reason he'd skipped the boat was because he was sick — they all knew, it would be stupid to hope they didn't. But nobody said anything about it, and it gave Riwoo the chance to feel normal for the evening. When Leehan gave him a fish plushie he bought from a gift shop near the river, he felt like just another teenager in love, and when Woonhak started to ask everyone if they'd had fun on the boat, he closed his eyes and he could almost pretend he'd gone there with them. 

******

Riwoo is well used to the hospital. For the past three years, this cold, white, ugly-looking building has become sort of a second home to him. He knows the nurses, the doctors, the cleaning ladies; he's a welcome visitor to the vending machine that gives out peanut M&Ms and cans of soda. Where it was once a scary place, he's grown used to it now. It doesn't scare him anymore. He can almost say… it almost looks friendly to him. 

But it's one thing to be here as a patient, and a whole other to have to wait in a stiff plastic chair, wondering if your friend is ever going to wake up. 

It suddenly feels like the walls are pressing in on him, like the clock on the wall is ticking away towards a devastating verdict. He has his friends here, for the first time ever, and even that doesn't calm him down; how could it, when they're all drowning in the same despair, when guilt coats them all like a blanket? No one even dares to talk, like that would be the last drop that pushes Woonhak over the edge. 

Bad pun. 

That's his problem; he makes jokes all the time. Even during the worst moments, the worst times, he tries to lighten the mood with a pun or a knock-knock joke; the moment he sees someone showing a bit of emotion around him, it's like an alarm system blares in his head, something like STOPSTOPSTOP. Maybe that's why Woonhak never came to him for help, not really, because the few times that he did reveal his sadness to him, Riwoo only tried to make light of the situation. But isn't that… just what they do? 

And now Woonhak is in some sort of coma because he jumped off a bridge. 

He stews in that for a while. Holding his little cup of water, staring into it, thinking about how Woonhak jumped off a bridge and nearly drowned while they were off having fun at an amusement park. Thinking about how Woonhak was basically screaming that he needs help, right before he left — the way he looked at them, the hunch of his shoulders… And Riwoo knew that he wasn't doing well, he knew it and yet he did nothing. He chose to be selfish, tonight. He knew his friend needed help and he turned his back on him. 

Because that's what they do. 

It's pure torture for the rest of the night, waiting for someone to come to them, to tell them something about Woonhak's condition. Then all of a sudden it's morning; the sun is filtering through the drapes on the window, the hospital becomes more lively with people, nurses and doctors coming in to work… and someone does come to them too. Not a doctor, not a nurse, but someone better. 

Taesan is back. And he brings Sungho. 

They stagger over to them like they're drunk. Taesan is perfectly impassive, just like before — a complete blank. God forbid he shows any emotions. 

Sungho, instead… There's a lot to take in about the way Sungho looks right now. He's not crying, though he might as well be. He looks frantic and desperate in the way he's breathing, quick and shallow breaths, almost like he's on the verge of a panic attack. His outfit is terrible, sweatpants and a large hoodie that swallows him whole. And his hair… Woonhak did warn them that Sungho had gotten a buzzcut, but god, it's one thing to hear about it, it's a whole other thing to see it in person. 

He doesn't even look like himself anymore. That beautiful silky hair that he always took such care of — he once bragged about his hair wash routine and it had no less than 14 steps, the diva. All of that hair is gone now; and gone are the beautiful outfits he used to pick out with childlike excitement, and gone is that spark in his eyes he always got when the six of them were together. 

Instead is this boy dragging his feet, looking like he's being eaten alive by guilt. 

If this were a happier moment, he'd get up, run to him, hug him close and tight; he's missed him so much these past two months. He always misses his friends when they disappear. But this is as sad a time as they come, and he feels chained down to his chair, unable to even sit up properly and greet his friend. 

“How is he?” Sungho asks once he gets to them; no hello, no sorry I left for so long, no nothing.

“No news yet,” Leehan says. 

“Is that good or bad?” 

“Means he's still alive, at least,” Riwoo manages to say, his throat scratchy and painful. 

“Fuck,” Sungho says, falling down on a chair next to them. Taesan sits too, quiet as ever, and they grow silent once again. 

This time the silence only lasts for about an hour. Soon enough, a door opens somewhere, and a doctor comes their way. Riwoo recognizes her as Doctor Min; he sees her all the time in the ER, whenever his disease acts up. She's an older lady, nearing retirement. A fierce woman, for sure; her hands have a hardness to them that comes from decades of wrestling death from her poor patients, and yet there's a kindness in her eyes that makes you instantly trust her, like you just know she has your best interests at heart, and the power to see them through. 

She stops in front of them and gives them a motherly smile. “Hello. Are you here for Kim Woonhak?” 

“Yes, we're his friends, can we please see him?” Jaehyun asks, jumping to his feet, stumbling a little — probably still a little drunk from last night, or either just very hungover. 

“How is he?” Taesan asks, stepping closer to her too. 

“I'm afraid that's confidential information. I can only disclose it to a member of his family.” 

“I'm his brother!” Leehan says. They all give him short, confused looks, but not for long; they can't give themselves away, that's for sure, so they can't seem too suspicious. 

Doctor Min tilts her head at him, clearly not buying it. “Could I see your ID, then, please?” 

“Sure, yeah,” Leehan says, patting his pockets until he produces a small wallet from his jacket. He opens it with shaky hands and shows it to her; sure enough, it says Kim Leehan. Riwoo didn't know that was his last name. 

Whether that's enough proof or not for her, Doctor Min is kind enough to go on. “Well, as you know, he suffered a traumatic fall into water. Thankfully he landed feet-first, or else this could've ended very differently. He's alive and stable — he woke up an hour ago, and we were able to talk to him. He has a few broken bones, mostly in his legs; extensive bruising across his body, and a lung contusion. That was the worst of it, but we have it under control now. We think he may have a small concussion, but we'll get him an MRI later to know for sure. He'll have to spend a few days in the hospital for recovery, maybe even a week to be sure.” She stops to take a breath, looking suddenly concerned. “Now… the nature of this fall…” 

“He jumped,” Taesan says bluntly, his voice empty. 

Doctor Min swallows thickly, then nods. “I was afraid that was the case. This isn't Woonhak’s first… incident of the sort. Well, I'm sure you know.” 

They didn't. But it's not a surprise, nonetheless. 

“I have to send him to a mental care clinic, at least for a few weeks. I know a great one nearby that I can recommend him to. Of course, it would be best to talk to his parents or a guardian about this…” 

“You probably won't,” Sungho says, not unkindly, just blunt. If there's one thing they know for sure about Woonhak's parents, it's that they're pieces of shit who couldn't give a crap about him. 

“In that case, he will be moved to the facility as soon as he's released from the hospital.” 

“What if he refuses to go?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Since he's a minor, he doesn't really have a choice.” She gives them another smile, like that's enough to make things better, like any of this is okay. “I know this seems scary, boys, but he really needs help. I'm sure you care about him, but there's certain things that even you can't help him with. This'll be good for him, you'll see.” 

Whether that's true or not, it doesn't matter, they can't change it anyway. And if Woonhak doesn't like this… maybe next time he'll think twice before he goes jumping off a bridge. 

“Can we go see him now?” Jaehyun finally asks, looking like he's buzzing in his chair with nerves and anticipation. 

“Sure, boys. It's the second door down that hallway.” 

That's all they need to hear. In a moment, Jaehyun is running off, and the rest of them take no time to follow. Riwoo goes too, as fast as he can, though he's in no shape to run right now. He's the last to finally make it to Woonhak's room. 

And it's… jarring, once he gets there. Dr Min mentioned the bruising, the broken legs, and he was expecting there to be bandages. Maybe even a machine or something, an IV, or something. And sure, all that's there — white bandages around his arms, around his head; a machine that beeps in time with his heartbeats, cables and tubes going in and out of him. All that he was expecting. 

What he wasn't expecting was for Woonhak to look so terrifyingly, so absolutely, dead. Even though he's still technically alive. Even though he's talking, answering Jaehyun's endless questions, even though Riwoo can see him breathing. His eyes are completely dead. 

“ — do something like this, Woonhak? Honestly!” Jaehyun is saying, holding Woonhak's hand in both of his. “Why?” 

Woonhak doesn't answer, just keeps looking at him with that empty look on his face. 

“You promised you'd be fine,” Leehan whispers, his voice breaking softly. It makes Riwoo want to hold him tight, to tell him that it's all going to be okay; but that's not a promise he can make, and that's not something he can do. Not anymore, not since they broke up. 

“We never said what fine means,” Woonhak says, a weak defense. 

“Well it definitely doesn't mean jumping off a bridge!” Taesan shouts, throwing his hands in the air. Masking his emotions with rage, like they can't all see how hard his hands are shaking. 

“Not to you,” Woonhak says, and Riwoo would almost laugh and think he's being snarky, if he looked any more lively. 

“Woonhak, do you even realize what happened?” Jaehyun finally snaps, grabbing Woonhak by the hospital shirt he's wearing and pulling him up. “You could've died!” 

Woonhak blinks. “That's the point.” 

“But—” Jaehyun starts, letting go of Woonhak and slowly pulling back, mouth gaping open. He finally manages to shout, “But you never even said goodbye!” 

Woonhak shrugs. “You never say goodbye either, when you disappear.” 

“But we always come back though!” Taesan says, stepping closer to the bed and pulling Sungho with him. “Look, here, Sungho's back! See? He came back, Woonhak!” 

Woonhak gives him one long, indescribable look. “Yeah, I guess he did,” he says, just in the way someone might comment on the weather. 

Sungho sniffles, bravely holding back tears, and falls a step closer to him. “Woonhak, baby… I'm so sorry, I — I didn't know, I didn't think that you'd do this if I don't show up, I didn't —” 

“Please,” Woonhak stops him, stiffening. “It's not about you. It's just who I am. Would've happened sooner or later.” 

“Stop that!” Taesan says. “Woonhak, you've got to get better — they want to send you to the nuthouse, for fuck's sake! 

“Load of bullshit,” Woonhak says. 

“I'm not bullshitting, the doctor said —”

“No. The nuthouse is a load of bullshit.” Woonhak lifts a hand to his head, rubbing his temple like it hurts. “But they can try.” 

“Honestly, Woonhak, when the fuck did you even get like this?” Riwoo snaps, so sick and fucking tired of Woonhak acting like he doesn't give a crap, when he does, it's so obvious that he does — people don't just jump off bridges if they think everything is bullshit. 

Woonhak sets his cold, empty gaze on him, and it chills Riwoo to the bone. “You can't be so surprised, Riwoo. We met in a hospital. What did you think I was doing here?” 

What did you think I was doing here? 

Doctor Min mentioned that this wasn't Woonhak's first attempt… 

What did you think I was doing here? 

Fuck. 

He can't stand it one moment longer. He turns around and runs out the door, no goodbye, no nothing, he just has to leave. And when they have to leave, they just leave, right? That's what they do, right? 

He leaves, but he doesn't make it very far. Once he gets outside he stumbles, heart aching, and falls on the ground in front of the hospital, trying to breathe in as much of this fresh air as possible; he felt like he was suffocating, back there. People give him weird looks but he doesn't care. Like he's the first person to act strange around a hospital? 

He's not alone for long. A few minutes later, the guys slowly trail after him. He feels rather than sees them as they walk out and stand next to him, quiet and still, like a scene from a painting. 

“Why'd you leave?” He finally asks. 

Taesan is the one who answers, in the same ticked off voice as he had talking to Woonhak, like all this is just a big annoyance to him. “He told us to. Said he wants to take a nap.

“He's tired,” Leehan says, as always ready to defend Woonhak. 

Though Riwoo agrees — Woonhak does seem tired. In more ways than one. 

“Well, I guess I should go,” he finally says, standing up and dusting himself off. He throws them a look, a short explanation, “I'm hungry.”

“Yeah,” Sungho says stiffly. “My parents are probably wondering where I am.” 

“See ya around,” Taesan offers, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

Riwoo starts to walk away, wondering silently to himself if, maybe… if this is it. Because he knows, deep in his heart, that they probably won't see each other again. Not after this. Woonhak will go to the loony bin and who knows what'll happen to him afterwards. Sungho will probably go back to hiding, still ashamed of his new look. Taesan will bury himself in petty robberies and minor infractions, because that's what he always does when he gets sad. Jaehyun will drown his sorrows in alcohol, and Leehan will run off the face of the earth, and Riwoo… well, he'll probably end up back at the hospital soon, with the way he's feeling lately. 

And that'll be it. Their little happy group, their friendship… over. Because they can help each other forget their problems, sure. But that doesn't mean they don't have them. 

“Wait.” Jaehyun shouts, startling Riwoo from his thoughts. He turns around and sees how everyone has started to walk their own way, but Jaehyun is still right there where they all stood together. He seems conflicted, but he looks at them one by one, takes a deep breath, and finally says, “This isn't right. We've got to stop this.” 

“Stop what?” Leehan asks. 

“This!” Jaehyun shouts, gesturing around at all of them. “Running away whenever things get heavy, because we're too scared to actually talk to each other. Like we don't all have shit to deal with in our lives, like we can't actually — you know…” He sighs, face bright red. “Maybe we can even… understand each other.” 

“But we don't do stuff like that,” Sungho protests weakly. 

“Well, maybe we should start to! Because otherwise we're all just doomed to lose our minds and fucking kill ourselves.”

“We're already doomed,” Taesan says grimly, like an unfortunate fact that's set in stone. 

Jaehyun turns to him, eyes wide, looking like he's begging. “Maybe not! Maybe we can do something about it!” 

“Do what?” Riwoo finds himself asking, because, yeah, it does sound like a nice fantasy… but if there was something they could've actually done about this, wouldn’t they have done it by now? 

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he talks, he looks like it's physically hurting him to say these words out loud, but like he also desperately needs to get them out. 

“I'm an alcoholic.”

And it's not groundbreaking to hear him say this; it's not a shock, a scare, a surprise. It's actually… not a big deal at all, because they always knew this anyway. But it does seem to make Jaehyun breathe a little easier. 

Jaehyun takes a moment, letting it all sink in, before he swallows hard and goes on. “I have a problem, and I can't… I can't do this by myself. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind completely. And I think — I think that you're all the same way. And maybe we can help each other, from now on. Because Woonhak needs this, but we all need this, too.” 

All the time he’s been friends with these guys, he never once thought about telling them about his disease. Never once thought they could help him out, because how could they, really? They don't get it. They don't understand the pain, the betrayal of having your own body turn against you like that, the feeling of being fucking useless sometimes. 

But maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to about this. Someone that's not his parents, who always act like he's not even human anymore, just an impending funeral bill. Someone that's not a doctor or a useless therapist. 

“What do you think, guys?” Jaehyun pleads. 

Yes, well... that's something to consider. 

Last year there was a very rough winter, probably the worst one Leehan had lived through ever since he ran away from the orphanage. He'd recently ran out of the last of his money, and his one good jacket had ripped that morning, and he was starving and cold and scared, in a way that he wasn't really used to. For the first time in his life, he had absolutely no food, no shelter, no money, and when the snowstorm started, he really thought he might die. 

He wasn't trying to meet with the guys that day. In fact, he was trying very hard to avoid them — even Riwoo, although back then he and Riwoo were at the beginning of their relationship, when things were perfect and everything was amazing, when they couldn't even fathom being away from each other for longer than Riwoo's hospital visits. But still, Leehan didn't want Riwoo to see him like that. Call it pride, or call it whatever you want, he just didn't think it would be so hot to realize your kinda-boyfriend was literally homeless. That was a secret he'd worked very hard to keep from everyone. 

And yet despite his best efforts, he managed to run straight into Woonhak. The snowstorm was so bad that he didn't even recognize him until he heard his voice. 

“Leehan!” Woonhak said, and Leehan startled and looked all around for the boy. 

He finally saw him, much closer than he'd thought he would be, waving at him happily. He was wearing a huge, warm winter coat, and a fluffy beanie on top of his head, and he even had cozy mittens on. Leehan had never been so jealous of a man in his entire life. 

“Hi, Woonhak,” he sighed, hugging himself in a poor attempt to hide that his jacket was all but ripped up. 

“How are you?” Woonhak asked, totally oblivious to Leehan's inner struggles. “You didn't show up at the bridge for a while, I've missed you!” 

Leehan mumbled something something busy and something something cold and something something you know how it is. 

Woonhak stepped closer to him, feet dipping into the snow. He took a good look at him, head to toe, then he asked, “Hey, since we're both out, do you want to grab some coffee or something?” 

Leehan frowned; he definitely didn't have the money for that. He probably had a penny or two somewhere in his pockets, and he doubted that he could find any cup of coffee for that cheap. 

But then Woonhak gave him a bright smile and said, “I think I owe you one, right? Because last time we saw each other we played basketball and I lost — and isn't that the rule? If you lose a game of basketball you have to buy the winner a cup of coffee, right?” 

That was definitely a very new rule, or (more likely) it was completely made up. But Leehan really needed to get out of the cold, so he agreed, if only for that. 

They went to the nearest coffee shop they could find. Woonhak insisted they splurge a bit and get some dessert too, mostly because the muffins looked so good, and since Leehan was in no shape to refuse anything free, he agreed to get a muffin too. They probably talked for an hour, enjoying the food and the warmth, and Leehan finally began to feel human again. 

At some point near the end Woonhak said he had to go to the bathroom, so he got up and left. Leehan had the time to drink up the last of his coffee, waiting for him to return, but when an hour passed and Woonhak still hadn't come back he started to get worried. Finally he got up and asked the cashier if she knew what happened to the guy who was there with him. 

“Hm?” The girl thought about it for a moment. “I think he left like an hour ago.” 

Leehan frowned, feeling disappointed. “He did?” He mumbled. 

“Yeah,” the girl said. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she added, “Don't worry, though. He paid for everything.” 

“Oh…” Leehan said, though that was the last of his worries at that point. He was mostly just wondering what could've made Woonhak leave so suddenly. He thought they were having fun. 

“I'm guessing it didn't go so well, huh?” The girl shook her head. “I mean, leaving without a goodbye? Rude. Men are pigs.” 

“Yeah… rude…” Leehan mumbled absently, looking out into the street, hoping that Woonhak might still be around despite knowing, deep down, that he was definitely long gone. 

“Don't worry, hon, we've all been there.” 

Leehan gave her a tight smile, turning back towards his and Woonhak's table. It was probably time to leave, he didn't have the money for a second cup of coffee anyway. At least Woonhak took care of the bill, like he promised he would. 

It only occurred to him, when he went to grab his torn-up jacket from the table, that Woonhak had left his big, warm winter coat behind. And the beanie… and the mittens. And he realized that he probably didn't forget them. He probably — definitely — knew what he was doing. 

He didn't see Woonhak again for another three weeks, almost a month. He couldn't get too worried because the other guys did see him; it seemed like he was systematically avoiding Leehan, and doing a damn good job at it. They only ran into each other again when spring had come, and Leehan finally got to return his clothes. 

Woonhak made a big show of gasping, saying, “Oh! I was wondering where I'd left these, I thought I lost them! I was really worried…” He looked up at Leehan, gave him a lopsided smile. “Hey, I guess I owe you a coffee for keeping them safe for me all this time.” 

“Oh, you don't owe me anything,” Leehan said in a joking tone. 

And he meant the hell out of it. It was only because of Woonhak's warm clothes that he managed to get through the worst winter of his life. Even though he'd only said it jokingly, he meant the hell out of it — that Woonhak didn't owe him anything. He would never owe him anything, ever again. He'd already given Leehan enough. 

******

The nuthouse isn't as bad as Leehan thought it would be. It's actually pretty nice, with a large garden and lots of flowers — it would almost remind him of a vacation resort, if it weren't for all the crazy people. 

Doctor Min wanted to send Woonhak to a state hospital at first, which would've been free but it probably would've been awful too; then Taesan offered to pay for a private one, so they found this place. It's super expensive, not that it makes a dent in Taesan's parents’ money, but Leehan thinks it's worth it. He could imagine himself coming here just for fun, not for… whatever it is they're doing right now. 

Jaehyun called it visiting a friend in need. He said they'd be showing their support, though whenever Leehan remembers the way that Woonhak looked at them in the hospital, he's not sure Woonhak would even want their support. It's been two weeks since that day, one week since Woonhak was transferred to the mental care facility, and there hasn't been one night, in all this time, that he managed to fall asleep without remembering that awful, deathly look that Woonhak had on his face that day. 

He wouldn't have even come here, but Jaehyun insisted that he would come, and he begged and begged the rest of them to join him. Come on, guys, he said. Don't you miss him? Don't you want to see him again? To which Leehan would always answer, yes and yes, and then he'd add, but he doesn't want to see us. 

Then Jaehyun said, one day, okay, but what if he does want to see us, though? What if he misses us too, and he's lonely, and we could really help him just by being there? 

Which was a good point, and Leehan is honestly a little embarrassed that he didn't think about it sooner. Look, he's new at this, okay? They only recently started trying to take care of each other. And besides, if Woonhak really doesn't want to talk to them, he can just tell them to leave. So it's okay, right? It's fine. 

But he still has a weird feeling as he walks down the hallways, like all of this is wrong. Then again, it's the same feeling he's had ever since they sent Woonhak here in the first place; he's starting to get used to it. 

“Hello!” A chipper voice calls, and Leehan startles. One of the nurses noticed them. She tilts her head and gives them a kind smile, just slightly unsettling. “Are you here to visit someone?” 

“Yes, we're here for, um,” Jaehyun clears his throat, looking awkward all of a sudden, holding onto his bouquet of white daisies a little tighter, “for Kim Woonhak?” 

Leehan gets it, really. It is awkward. They haven't actually said his name ever since it happened, like it's taboo or something. They're trying to be more honest, to help each other out… but they're still working on it. There's still some things they haven't been able to discuss yet, and the whole Woonhak situation is one of them. 

But now they're here, so they might as well face what happened. 

The nurse gives them another one of those unsettling smiles, like she's trying very hard to look kind, to make them trust her. Leehan thinks this must be her way of winning over the patients. 

“The common room is down the hall, to the right — he must be in there. In the meantime, I can go look for his doctor, if you'd like to talk to her?” 

Jaehyun nods quickly, looking relieved. “That would be great, thank you so much!”  

“No problem!” The nurse chirps, waving them off as they leave. Leehan shudders as soon as she's out of sight, sticking closer to Jaehyun. She wasn't even that bad, but he can't help it; he just thinks that anyone who would work in a madhouse must be a little mad themselves. 

The common room is beautiful, too. There's so many windows, so much sunlight, it feels like a whole other piece of reality here. They have a view of the gardens and there's animals in there, ducks and cats, and so many flowers and trees. There's some people tending to the plants, picking apples and whatnot, but they're dressed in PJs; Leehan guesses they must be patients. 

The patients are very easy to recognize. Both by their clothing — they all have the same pajamas, light blue and very cozy, looking like they're made of cotton — but also by the vacant looks in their eyes. He wonders if they're all hooked up on drugs, if the looks they have are because of pills or if that's just how they are, the very reason they landed in this place at all. 

The common room isn't as full as Leehan feared it would be. There's a few patients speaking to outsiders, some nurses watching over them to make sure that everything is alright, and one or two patients sitting alone. It takes no effort to recognize Woonhak. 

He's sitting in a corner all by himself, his hands busy with a stack of papers that's sitting on the coffee table in front of him. Jaehyun grabs Leehan by the elbow and leads the way over to him. 

“Hello!” He says, plopping into an armchair across from Woonhak. 

Leehan sits too, a bit more hesitant than Jaehyun. When Jaehyun elbows him, subtly, he manages to say, “Hi, Woonie.” 

Woonhak looks slowly from the papers in his hands up at the two of them. He still has that blank look in his eyes, the one he had in the hospital too. He doesn't say anything, which might be because he doesn't know what to say, or because he just doesn't want to talk to them. Leehan hopes it's the first one. 

Jaehyun clears his throat. “Um. These are for you,” he says, holding out the bouquet of daisies.

Woonhak looks at them, still silent for a few moments, then he finally puts down the paper he had in his hand and takes the bouquet. He admires it for a while before he looks back up at them. “White flowers. You know I’m not dead yet, right?” 

Leehan laughs, though he's not sure it's even a joke; he's just so relieved to hear Woonhak's voice again. He still looks like he did in the hospital; his legs are covered in casts, there's a bandage around his head, and his eyes still look empty — and yet the sound of his voice, that's the same as it's always been. 

Jaehyun doesn't seem so amused as him. “We thought they were cute,” he says stiffly. The flowers were his choice. “We can bring you something more colorful next time, if you want.”

“They are cute,” Woonhak agrees, which is neither here nor there. Then he puts the bouquet on the table, next to the stack of colorful papers, and goes back to the paper he had in his lap. He starts folding it, and Leehan realizes, belatedly, that he's doing origami. 

“How's — uh, how…” Leehan starts, clumsily, “How do you like it here?” 

“It's bullshit,” Woonhak says, not looking up from the paper. So his stance on the whole nuthouse thing hasn't changed. 

“But are they treating you well?” Jaehyun presses. “Is the food good? Are the doctors and the nurses kind to you?”

Woonhak's eyes flicker to him for a moment, before he looks back at the paper. “The food is good,” he says. Leehan isn't sure how much to believe him, because he seems to have gotten thinner; maybe he's just trying to ease their worries. 

“Do you have your own room?” Leehan asks, if only to make conversation. 

Woonhak shakes his head. “A roommate. He's nuts.” 

That makes even Jaehyun crack a smile, but he brushes it off his face quickly. 

“Hey, do you want us to bring you something in particular, next time we visit?” Jaehyun asks. “We didn't know if you needed anything, but we can bring you — like, soap and stuff, or books, or something?” 

“Nope,” Woonhak says, and that's that. 

Jaehyun pulls at the skin on his lips. It's a nervous tick he's developed lately, probably from missing alcohol so much. It looks painful, but if it's either this or having Jaehyun drinking again, this is way better. 

“You know, Taesanie paid for this place,” Jaehyun says after a while. “It was either this or a state hospital, but we thought it would be nicer here.” 

“He shouldn't have bothered,” Woonhak mutters. 

Leehan and Jaehyun share an uncomfortable look. 

“We're, uh,” Leehan finally says, after a while, “we're all moving in together, by the way. You know — us five. We got an apartment and we're moving in this week… we're going to try and get some jobs, too…” 

Jaehyun nods. “Yeah, it's really cool. There's not so much space so we have to share two bedrooms, but… um, just so you know, you can come live with us too. When you get out. It's a little cramped but — yeah…”

Woonhak looks from him to Jaehyun, back to him, like he's trying to figure out whether they're lying. He must decide they're not, because he looks back to his origami, shaking his head a bit. “Bullshit…” he mumbles, to himself. Leehan sighs. 

They're all silent for the next few minutes. Woonhak is focused on his origami, Jaehyun is staring out the window, and Leehan decides to just watch Woonhak work. It's therapeutic, in a way. Two weeks ago they found Woonhak on the bridge with a paramedic pushing into his chest, and now he's here, and Leehan doesn't even care that he seems to think that everything is bullshit; he's still here, and that's a miracle in itself. 

He watches him work on that paper, folding and twisting it like he knows the steps by heart, and a few minutes later… he's done. His hands stop working and instead he just looks, calmly, at what he's created. A beautiful butterfly. 

“That's so pretty,” Leehan says, leaning closer. “Can I see it?” 

Woonhak blinks at him, looking confused, like he's wondering why Leehan would want to take a better look at his butterfly. But a moment later, he still hands it to him. 

Leehan takes it carefully, like it's a fragile thing he could break, and turns it over in his hands. It's beautiful. A beautiful blue butterfly. 

“Can I keep this?” He asks, looking at Woonhak. Woonhak wets his lips, then nods, looking abruptly away. Leehan smiles anyway. “Thank you.” 

Woonhak grumbles something under his breath, reaching for another piece of paper — a pink one, this time. 

They watch him work in silence as he starts to make another butterfly. It's peaceful like this, Leehan realizes; it might be a bit creepy, what with all these people around, and the nurses are a little strange, yes, but it's peaceful to sit here with Jaehyun and Woonhak, it's peaceful to watch Woonhak fold the paper and create something. He wonders if Woonhak feels the same peace, or if he thinks the place is a little creepy too. Then he wonders if he's been scared, this past week. If he missed them and they weren't here. 

The second butterfly is just starting to come together, when they get some company. 

“Hello!” A woman in a white coat says, coming over to them. She gives Jaehyun and Leehan a nod, like they already know each other, before she turns to Woonhak. Woonhak isn't looking at her, but that doesn't seem to bother her. “Are you making butterflies again, Woonhak? They're really pretty.” 

“Yeah,” Woonhak says, and Leehan can't tell if it's to answer her question or to agree that they are, indeed, pretty. 

“Oh, you gave one to your friends, too,” she goes on. “That's very nice of you.” 

“I didn't give it, he asked for it,” Woonhak corrects her gruffly. 

“That's still generous that you let him have it,” she says kindly. 

“I have like fifty of them,” Woonhak says, stubborn as ever. 

In a way, this is the most emotion he's shown the whole time that Jaehyun and Leehan have been here. He might be snappy and rude, but that's still better than how he's been. 

“Mrs Choi said you wanted to talk to me?” The doctor says, turning to Leehan and Jaehyun. Mrs Choi is probably the nurse, the weird one who directed them to the common room. 

“Yes, we did,” Jaehyun says. Leehan notices that Woonhak has stopped folding the paper, though he's not looking at them. He wonders how he feels about this, that they're talking to his doctor, though he probably should've been expecting as much to happen. 

“Good. I have a few minutes now, if you want,” she says. 

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Jaehyun says, already standing up; like it's all he's been waiting for, a chance to get away from here. 

“Woonhak, do you mind us leaving?” Leehan asks. 

Woonhak glances at him; Leehan hopes for anything — sadness or anger or relief, anything at all. But Woonhak still has the same blank look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “Go,” he says, turning back to his origami. 

They leave the room. Leehan keeps looking back as they walk away — he and Jaehyun both are — but Woonhak never once looks after them. He just keeps on quietly making his origami butterfly. 

The doctor leads them down the hallway into an office. She closes the door behind them, then sits at the desk, gesturing for them to sit as well. 

“My name is Doctor Kang,” she finally introduces herself. “I'm a psychiatrist, and Woonhak’s primary caretaker. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have about him.”

“Well,” Jaehyun starts, “I guess we just want to know if he's doing fine? He wasn't very chatty earlier.” 

Doctor Kang sighs. “Yes, we've noticed that about him. To be honest, Woonhak doesn't seem to be doing so well. He refuses to cooperate with any of us — he won't talk in therapy, won't talk to me… I have been a little worried, but I think it's good that you came here.” 

“It is?” Jaehyun asks, looking so tired and exhausted, like he can finally drop his mask. He's probably been feeling guilty all this time, because Woonhak definitely didn't look happy that they were here. 

But at the same time… he didn't look mad about it, either. He accepted their flowers, gave Leehan that butterfly, and when they asked if he wants them to bring anything in particular next time, as if it's a certainty that there will be a next visit, he didn't tell them not to come again. 

Doctor Kang gives them a soft look. “It may not seem like it, but I'm sure he appreciates that you're here for him. I think he's been hurt before, and he's not used to trusting people yet, but it's important that you show him he can count on you.” 

“How do we do that?” Leehan asks, looking at the paper butterfly in his hands. 

“I think for now, you just keep visiting here. Talk to him… make him understand that there is a world for him out there.” 

“Just visits? That's it?” Leehan asks, a little skeptical. 

“That's it,” Doctor Kang nods. 

“And it's just… that simple?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Sometimes, yes,” Doctor Kang says, giving them another kind smile. “Sometimes, it is that simple.” 

For Sungho's last birthday, he fell into the most predictable and heartbreaking illusion of the universe — that just because it's your birthday, that means that everything will magically turn right. Everyone will love you, everyone will take care of you, you'll be able to wear whatever you want and people won't give you crap for it; your parents may even accept you, even for just one day. 

It's not that he wants to be a girl, not exactly. He's okay with his name and people saying he's a boy, and he doesn't really think about pronouns all that much. He just likes looking pretty. He wishes he could always wear the skirts hidden in the back of his closet, that he could do his makeup everyday, that he could wear purses and necklaces and let his hair grow as long as he wants. Is that such a big deal? He never thought it would bother anyone — until it started bothering his parents. 

But now it was his birthday, he was turning twenty years old — he was finally an adult, by all definitions of the word — so he figured, surely this time they won't mind, right? 

That's where he was mistaken. He wore one of his favorite blouses, put on those large flowy pants that almost looked as if he was wearing a skirt, put on just a bit of makeup — just some blush and a bit of glittery eyeshadow — and he felt so pretty, even though he'd done so little. That was the most he'd ever dared to do around his parents, but for once he wasn't scared of their reaction. Since it was his birthday, he'd managed to elude himself that maybe his parents would see it wasn't such a big deal, that it made him happy and maybe that was more important than anything. 

Apparently, he'd still overdone it. His mom screamed and called him every name in the book, his dad punched the table, yelling about how he doesn't want a sissy for a son, and he barely managed to leave without getting hurt. They hadn't even told him happy birthday; in fact, it was painfully obvious that they had no idea it was his birthday at all. 

The moment he got in his room he wanted to change, to take off all the makeup and every piece of clothing that made his parents hate him so badly. Then he saw his window, and the river in the distance, and he changed his mind. He needed a walk, that's what he needed. He needed to get some air. 

He didn't plan on it, but inevitably his feet took him to the bridge where he and his friends would always hang out. Maybe it was muscle memory, or he was hoping to run into one of them, or maybe he just needed to see the water. It always calmed him, seeing the view from the bridge, the water running underneath. 

He stayed there quietly for a few moments, watching the water like that, before he heard some footsteps. Without even turning around he just knew it was one of his friends; no one else ever went so close to the edge. 

“Hi Sungho!” It was Woonhak's voice, who sounded genuinely happy to see him. And then, before Sungho could say anything back, he went on — “Happy birthday!” 

Sungho felt like he'd been struck. “How did you know —”

“Taesanie,” Woonhak said, giving him away so easily. 

“... Thanks,” Sungho finally muttered, turning back to watch the water. 

He couldn't even be surprised. The little weirdo always seemed to know everything about everyone. Sungho was almost sure that Taesan had some little notebook back home, where he kept facts about the rest of them. 

Woonhak cleared his throat. “I, uh… I was actually hoping I'd run into you today. I got you something.” 

Sungho turned, not sure how to expect. It's not like they were big on gift giving, the six of them. He was almost thinking Woonhak would hand him a card, or something silly like that. That would've been really nice, of course, and he'd probably treasure that card forever, but surely Woonhak wouldn't give him something more, right? 

And yet, Woonhak revealed a small gift bag from behind his back. He gave Sungho an anxious smile as he handed it to him, and Sungho briefly wondered if he'd ever seen Woonhak look so nervous before. 

He peered into the gift bag. Inside were… a bunch of hairpins. Plain or colored, with cute little bows, glittery, some with flowers or stars… Lots and lots of hairpins, each so pretty and so precious. 

“I think this one goes with your makeup today,” Woonhak pointed at a glittery one, the same shade as his eyeshadow. 

Sungho agreed — it really did go well with his makeup. He put it on his hair, pushing back his bangs a bit. 

Woonhak gave him a pleased look. “See, I was right! It looks so pretty.” 

Sungho smiled, a genuine smile, touching the hairpin lightly. “I think so too,” he said, and though he couldn't see it himself, he knew he was right. He looked very pretty, he was sure of it. 

And suddenly, it felt so silly that he let his parents get to him, that he ever got upset over what they thought of him. There were more important things in life, like his friends. Who cares what his parents think? 

So, since it was still his birthday, he decided he might as well celebrate. 

“Hey, do you want to get some cake? I'll buy,” Sungho asked, though he already knew what answer Woonhak would give. The kid was a sucker for cake. 

Sure enough, Woonhak nodded quickly, his eyes brightening up. “Yes, let's get some cake, that sounds so good!” 

Sungho laughed at his excitement, putting an arm around his shoulders and leading the way towards the best cake shop in town. They each got a slice of cake, and Woonhak insisted that Sungho get a candle to make a wish. Though it felt silly, Sungho got it anyway, if only to make Woonhak happy. 

And he did make a wish, even though that, too, was a silly thing. He wished silently that everyday would be like this, and that he could wear whatever girly things he wanted, and that everyone would be so kind to each other, just like Woonhakie always was. 

Then he wished that he could stay with his friends forever. But he promised himself that he would make it happen; he would always stick with them, always, no matter what. That was his biggest wish he had ever made, and the most important promise in the world. 

Three months later, his parents cut up all his pretty clothes, threw away his accessories and shaved his hair down to the scalp. The only thing he managed to save were the hairpins that Woonhak gave him, but he couldn't even wear them anymore, his hair was too short. 

He thought the shame of it would swallow him whole. He thought he should just stay away, stay away, and maybe they wouldn't realize how messed up he is. Maybe they wouldn't even miss him. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

******

They take turns visiting, the few weeks after that. Jaehyun always insists on going, though whenever he visits Woonhak at the nuthouse — the mental care facility — he always comes back looking troubled and anxious. They've all told him that he doesn't have to go, because it clearly upsets him; that they can go without him, and Woonhak won't mind it. But Jaehyun always insists he goes anyway, so it's up to the others to take turns to join him. There's a limit of two visitors per patient, so it's a bit of a struggle, because everyone both desperately wants to see Woonhak and also dreads it terribly at the same time. 

But this time it was very easy to choose. Jaehyun’s AA meeting got moved to this Sunday, which is the only day a week that the nuthou– the mental care facility allows visitors, and Riwoo just started a new treatment so he's not feeling too well, and Leehan is staying with Riwoo, because apparently they're sort of together again. 

Which leaves Sungho and Taesan to visit Woonhak. Which is… sort of awkward, really. They say hello, give him a bouquet of beautiful irises, sit across from him and watch as he works on making those origami butterflies he's always making, and it's the same thing they always do but this time it's a little weird. 

Woonhak doesn't show much emotion these days, but even so Sungho can tell that he's surprised Jaehyun isn't here, maybe even a bit disappointed. It's not like Jaehyun is his favorite — everyone knows that's Leehan — but Jaehyun has been his friend the longest, and he's been here for every visit, so maybe Woonhak has grown to have certain expectations. 

“Jaehyun was really sorry he couldn't come today,” Sungho says, before Woonhak gets the chance to ask about him — which he probably wouldn't have done anyway. “His AA meeting got moved.” 

Now this seems to really shock Woonhak; his eyebrows raise up to his hairline and he stays like that for a few moments, before his expression turns the same blank they've been seeing for the past few weeks. This is probably the first time he's hearing that Jaehyun goes to AA meetings. He probably doesn't even know that Jaehyun has been sober for the past several weeks, or if he did hear about it before, he probably didn't think it was serious. 

“Riwoo and Leehan are sorry they couldn't come either,” Taesan says. “Riwoo wasn't feeling so well, so Leehan decided to stay home with him. But don't worry about him, though — it's not like in the past, this time.” 

“No?” Woonhak asks, looking down at the irises. 

“He's trying a new experimental treatment,” Taesan explains. “He never had the money for it before, but I've got my dad's money, so we can afford it for him now. The doctors are really happy with his results — they think this might actually cure him, eventually, but it takes a while before he gets used to the treatment.” 

Woonhak furrows his eyebrows, staring hard at the flowers. “That's… good.” He says it like he's not even sure he believes it himself, but there's something else in his voice, something hesitant… something almost like hope. 

“And I finally got a job, by the way,” Sungho smiles. “So now Jaehyun and I both have jobs, and Taesanie is still looking but it's still pretty good that —”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Woonhak asks, finally looking up at them, for the first time since they came here. He seems taken aback the moment he does, mouth hanging open for a second before he closes it, then opens it again, then finally says, “… You're wearing a hairpin.” 

Sungho's hand goes up to his hair; it's gotten longer by now, still not as long as he'd like but it's more comfortable these days, and he finally managed to put a pin in it. It's one of the pins that Woonhak gave him for his birthday, the one with a star on it. He thought it looked nice with his top. 

“Yeah,” Sungho smiles, a little nervous. “You gave it to me, remember?” 

Woonhak furrows his eyebrows, staying silent, then turns back to the origami. He picks up the paper — it has cute, flowery patterns on it this time — and continues to fold it into a butterfly. This is already the third butterfly he's making since he and Taesan got here. In the weeks he's spent at the nuthouse — the mental care facility — he's learned to make them pretty fast. 

“We're telling you this because we want you to know we're doing way better, out there,” Sungho explains after a while. “We want you to know… that there's a place for you with us. We're not going to bail on you this time.”

“Yeah!” Taesan nods. “We got a nice little apartment and it's great to live together… Sungho, Jaehyunie and I don't even speak to our parents anymore, did you know that? And it's really good, honestly. It's not like everyday is perfect or anything like that but really, it's —”

“Bullshit,” Woonhak whispers, finishing up the butterfly and throwing it on the coffee table, before quickly grabbing another paper. He looks like if he stops making butterflies for one moment, he'll explode, or something. 

Sungho exhales a hard breath. “It's not bullshit, Woonhak, we're —” 

“Listen, Woonhak, I wanted to tell you something,” Taesan cuts him off, looking very serious all of a sudden. Woonhak doesn't even look up from the paper, but it doesn't seem to phase Taesan in the least. “One time, you asked me if we're just doomed to be like this forever, and I gave you an answer that maybe wasn't the right answer at all. I was wrong, Hakkie — I was thinking in absolutes back then, and maybe that's not always the case because you know what? Sometimes, things do get better.” 

Woonhak scoffs under his breath. “Well I don't know what to believe. You seemed pretty convinced back then.” 

“Well… I changed my mind,” Taesan says. 

“Just like that?” Woonhak asks, giving them an unconvinced look. 

“Yeah,” Taesan says, like it's that simple. “We're allowed to do that, you know. Change.” 

Woonhak's eyes go wide, then normal, then he goes quiet and he doesn't speak at all for the rest of their visit. He just keeps on making origami butterflies, not saying a word; but when they leave, he takes Sungho's hand and puts five butterflies in it, not even looking at him as he does it. To Sungho, that's the first sign that maybe things are going to get better after all. 

The next week, Sungho comes to visit with Riwoo, but Woonhak isn't in the common room when they arrive. They ask around for him, with no luck, before thankfully Doctor Kang calls them into their office. 

“Woonhak wasn't feeling well today,” she tells them as soon as they sit down. “He couldn't take any visitors. I can give him those flowers for you, if you'd like — I'm sure he'd be very touched to see that you thought of him.” 

Sungho looks down at the bouquet of pink lilies in Riwoo's hand, then at Doctor Kang. “What do you mean, he wasn't feeling well?” He asks. 

Doctor Kang presses her lips together tightly, before she sighs and explains, “He hasn't been very… sociable, this week. Less so than usual. He won't come out of his room unless we drag him, which we try not to do.”

“But… why? What happened?” Riwoo asks. 

“I can't give you an answer to that,” Doctor Kang says — and yet despite everything, she smiles. “But don't worry, boys. This is a good sign.” 

“How is this good?” Sungho asks. “He's hiding away! He's suffering!”

“Exactly,” Doctor Kang says with that same kind smile they've grown well used to. “Even if he is suffering… he's letting himself have feelings again. He finally thinks he’s safe enough to do so.” 

Riwoo and Sungho share a worried look. How could they not worry? Woonhak is their baby, and whether or not it's a good sign, he's still in pain. 

Then Riwoo turns away and sighs, a sigh that puffs out his cheeks. He's been gaining weight lately, and his test results keep coming back good, and even just the fact that he came here at all is a miracle in itself, that he felt well enough for this trip. 

Sungho thinks back to when Riwoo first started this new treatment. How the first few days were a mess — countless doctor visits, sleepless nights holding Riwoo's hair back as he puked his guts out, making diet foods because there was so much stuff he couldn't keep down… and now he looks so well, it's almost like he was never even sick at all. 

Maybe this thing with Woonhak is the same. Maybe it's bad now, at first, but it's a process. They have to give it a chance. 

Maybe… this is their first step towards their baby coming home to them. 

One week letter, they get the letter in the mail. 

Dear friends, 

I don't know if you're going to get this letter. It's a stupid therapy thing where they're asking us to write letters to our loved ones, but we don't have to send them if we don't want to. I don't think I'll want to send it, but if you're reading this, then I guess I did send it after all? 

They're saying we should use the letters as an opportunity to talk about things that are too hard to say out loud. I'm like, where do I start? There's a bunch of stuff that I want to say, but the stupid thing is that if I can't say them out loud, I probably can't say them in writing either, because I just don't know how to put the words together to tell them. Do you understand what I mean? It's so weird, but I just keep trying to say something, and I end up saying nothing because no words want to come out. It feels almost impossible to talk sometimes. 

But I guess if there were something I'd really want to tell you, something I could never speak about out loud, that's Haneul. My sister.  

Haneul died a month before I met Jaehyunie. She jumped off our bridge, the same bridge I jumped off too, only she did die from it. Whenever we'd hang out there I would just look at the water and wonder how it felt for her to die like that, and I guess that night that I jumped too, I just couldn't take it anymore. I miss her so much sometimes and — well, it's not just that really. I was thinking a lot of things that night, lots of stuff about life and how nothing even matters really, and how everything good eventually ends, and I guess it got to me. 

Haneul was my best friend in the world, and when she died I thought I'd never be so lucky to have a friend like her again. Then mom and dad shut off completely, like they forgot they have a second kid, and that was pretty terrible too. Then I met you guys, and a part of me was so desperate for our friendship to last, but a bigger part of me was always sure that it would end eventually. Something like… Haneul died, and one by one you guys will leave too, you know? Something like that. 

But you haven't left. I wasn't expecting this to happen, really, I thought that we were over and that's that. And yet week after week you're still coming to visit me, and you keep looking better, and I'm starting to think that maybe some of the good things don't have to end. 

The main thing is that I figured, before, that Haneul jumped off a bridge because something was wrong with her — the same thing that is wrong with my parents, because they're killing themselves too, in a way. And I figured that I'm probably wrong like that too, you know? That it's like a curse in my blood, something I can't escape, something I was born with that's due to explode at some point. 

But I'm starting to think that maybe that's not true. Maybe something was wrong, but maybe it can change. Maybe I can do that — you guys have changed, right? So maybe I can do it too. 

Hey, I think I'm pretty good at letters, by the way. Who knew. 

Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you these past two weeks, it's just a lot to deal with right now. Thank you for the flowers, though, they're very pretty. I put them all in a vase in my room. I can tell that my roommate is jealous because his parents never bring him flowers, but I'm like, at least your parents visit you so shut up. But then again, no one else other than his parents ever come to visit him, and at least I have five awesome friends, so I'm probably still a little better off than him. 

The flowers haven't wilted yet, by the way. When I was little, my mom used to say that when flowers still look fresh a long time after someone gives them to you, that means that that person loves you a lot, so that's pretty neat I guess. 

What I'm trying to say is that I love you too, guys. And I'm trying really hard to come home soon, so please… just wait a little bit longer, okay? 

And, thank you. For not giving up on me, for getting better, for being here. For everything, I guess. 

I'll see you soon. 

— Woonhak 

******

It's another loud morning by the time Woonhak wakes up. The bed is empty, and there's noises coming from the kitchen — Jaehyun and Taesan must be awake, and Sungho probably is, too, though he can't be sure unless he checks. 

He blinks blearily at the clock on the nightstand. It blinks back at him — 6:23. His alarm won't ring for another seven minutes, but he's awake now, and he's pretty sure someone is making breakfast. He might as well get up. 

He slips into some slippers sitting at the bottom of the bed; they're probably not his, but it probably doesn't matter anyway. Then he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, dragging his feet along the tiles. 

“Morning,” he says, walking into their tiny kitchen. Sure enough, Jaehyun, Taesan and Sungho are here; Sungho is cooking something on the stove, while Jaehyun is making coffee. It's the same as every morning.

“Hi, Woonie,” Taesan chirps, setting three — now four — plates on the table. “Did we wake you again? Sorry.” 

“No, it's okay,” Woonhak says, leaning against the wall as he watches them. “Riwoo and Leehan are still sleeping?” 

Sungho scoffs. “Please,” he says, which is fair enough. Riwoo and Leehan always wake up way after the rest of them. It makes sense, they don't have anywhere to be in the mornings — Woonhak wouldn't want to be up so early if he didn't absolutely have to, either, but unfortunately 6AM mornings are a must if he wants to get to school on time. 

The other hyungs are in similar situations. Sungho has to be at work at 7AM — his promotion came with a lot of perks, most importantly the salary raise, but it also definitely came with some downsides too, such as the fact that he has to open the coffee shop by himself. Jaehyun and Taesan start work at 8AM, but Jaehyun has a long commute, so he has to get out a bit earlier. Only Riwoo and Leehan are blessed enough with later shifts — and Riwoo only has to work three days a week, anyway, so what does he care. 

To be honest, Woonhak would take even Sungho's work schedule over having to go to high school. But he only has two months left until graduation — and he'll work very hard to make sure he can even graduate — after which, well… 

His friends always tell him that the sky is the limit. They have plenty of money to last them a while, like the savings that Taesan stole from his parents when he ran away from home, or all the guys’ combined salaries. They live in a pretty shitty apartment, but rent is cheap, so Woonhak doesn't need to get a job when he graduates. He might even… well, it wouldn't even be such a silly idea to think about going to college. There's a community college in town, and he knows they teach music theory. If the sky is the limit, maybe he could even become a musician, right? A producer or a singer or… well, who knows. 

At the same time, his hyungs have dreams of their own too. Community college is cheap, and they all have jobs, and if Woonhak gets a job too maybe that could even afford some classes for all of them. Wouldn't that be awesome? They could go to college together, complain about teachers, classmates… and maybe one day, they could create music together too, because he knows for sure that his friends would love that just as much as he would. 

But that's a dream for later. For now, he just has to focus on graduating high school. 

Taesan waits for him by the door after he's gotten ready. He hands him his lunchbox, pinches his cheek; their usual routine. It used to kinda bug Woonhak at first, but he's gotten used to it now, and he even kinda misses it whenever Taesan can't walk with him to school, for whatever reason. 

They always leave together in the mornings. Then in the afternoons, Leehan waits for him at the library, where he works. Woonhak likes to stay there and do his homework while Leehan finishes his shift, then they can go home together. Or sometimes Riwoo picks him up from school, usually having some kind of fruit for him, because a growing boy should eat lots of vitamins. Then they come home and Sungho and Jaehyun are here already, and there's food on the table, and after dinner they all hang out together in the living room, and…

Look, things are still hard sometimes. It's not like he's magically healed now, like he never jumped off that bridge, like Haneul isn't still dead. And he knows that it's not always easy for his friends either. They can't just ignore everything bad that ever happened to them, they can't forget it. Riwoo's body still aches sometimes, and Taesan still waits for the phone to ring because maybe it's his parents wondering if he's okay, and Jaehyun still misses the bottle, and… yes, well, they all have problems. 

But things are better now, way better than Woonhak ever hoped they'd be, and that's enough. Everything bad that happened in the past, everything that's going to happen in the future too — because life is never just good, is it? — he's sure that he can get over it. He doesn't have to figure things out on his own anymore. He'll never be alone again — he'll always have his friends, and this time he's sure he can count on them. 

And damn it if that's not just the best feeling in the world.