Chapter Text
The inside of the club was deafening.
Neon signs glowed against the walls while LED strips flashed in every direction. Music pounded so loudly it shook the floor beneath everyone's feet. People disappeared into the restrooms, stumbled back out, laughed too hard and shouted over each other.
The air smelled like cheap cologne, spilled alcohol, sweat, and regret.
Right in the middle of all that chaos, a tall man with badly dyed purple hair was sprawled across one of the worn leather couches.
He set his glass down on the table with a dull clink.
His fifth drink tonight? Maybe his ninth.No one cared enough to count. Well...
Maybe one person did.
"Yo, Thanos." A red-haired man with permanently tired eyes leaned against the couch. "You gonna drive home?"
Subong lazily waved a hand through the air.
"Relax, Jaesung. I walked here."
"You sure?"
"My apartment isn't that far."
Jaesung sighed, already knowing there was no point arguing with him.
It was nearly three in the morning when the apartment door finally unlocked.
The keys rattled violently before the lock gave in.
Thanos stumbled inside, kicked the door shut behind him, threw his jacket somewhere near the coat rack.
He headed straight for the kitchen. The ceiling light flickered once before staying on.
He opened the refrigerator, grabbed the bottle of water he'd surprisingly remembered to put earlier that day, and drank from it like he'd been stranded in a desert.
A pair of footsteps echoed through the cracked floors.
"Subong?"
A raspy voice called out between a yawn.
"Yeah," he answered without looking up. "I'm home."
"Jesus... why are you so late?"
The girl walked into the kitchen, plucked the bottle from his hands, and frowned.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to drink straight from the bottle?"
Thanos groaned dramatically.
"Come on, señorita. Don't be so dramatic."
Semi rolled her eyes. She grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard, poured the water into it, and slid it across the counter toward him.
He accepted it with an exaggerated sigh.
She looked him up and down before making a face.
"Please take a shower. You smell like cheap alcohol and sweat."
She started walking back toward the hallway. Trying to get away from that smell.
"Okay, mom."
She stopped in the doorway.
"Oh. You got mail."
Thanos blinked.
"...Mail?"
"Yeah."
"What is this, 1926?"
"Don't ask me." She shrugged.
"It didn't have a sender. Gyeongsu just told me to make sure you got it."
"So Gyeongsu sent it?"
"No, idiot." She rubbed one eye.
"He just... probably knows who did." She turned around again.
"Check it out. I'm gonna get some fucking sleep... I have to meet with Mina early in the morning."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll check it later."
"Don't forget!"
Her voice echoed down the hallway before a bedroom door closed.
Not that Thanos forgot. He simply didn't care.
If it were really important, whoever sent it could've emailed him. Or at least texted him.
He picked the envelope up from the coffee table. It had been sitting beside Semi's fancy candle collection.
Plain. Light beige. Almost old-fashioned. There wasn't a return address. No sender.
Only Thanos and Semi's apartment address, written in neat fresh black ink.
Bldg 7, Room 230, 25 Squid
Amrile, Seoul 03800
Thanos frowned.
"...Weird."
He carried it into his bedroom.
Instead of opening it, he tossed it onto his nightstand beside an unopened energy drink and a tangled pair of earphones.
Then he collapsed face first onto his bed.
The sheets were clean.
Semi had changed them again.
If his flatmate didn't quietly do things like that for him, Thanos was fairly certain he'd already be dead.
Not because he couldn't take care of himself.
Because most days...
He simply couldn't make himself try.
Sometimes he forgot to brush his teeth.
Sometimes he wore the same clothes for days.
Sometimes he couldn't even convince himself to wash his hair.
he wasn't some baby. He was just overly depressed.
The next morning began with the worst sound imaginable.
His phone ringing.
Ironically, Thanos had always been an early bird. Only if he had passion to live, he would've been an successful man.
Half asleep, he grabbed the phone without checking the contact name.
"What do you-"
"Did you get the letter?" The voice on the other end interrupted him before he could finish.
Subong yawned as he slowly sat up.
"...What letter?"
"The one I told Semi to make sure you read."
"Ohhhh..."
His eyes drifted toward the unopened envelope still sitting on his nightstand.
"That letter."
"It's important."
"Ugh, I hate reading."
"It isn't that long."
"It can't be that important."
"Subong."
The voice became unusually serious.
"Listen carefully. Those letters are important."
"...Letters?"
"Don't ask why. Don't ask how. Just read them."
Subong rubbed his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Gyeongsu."
"I'm serious. Don't—"
He hung up.
Silence filled the room.
The envelope remained untouched.
If anything, being told to read it made him want to read it even less.
Eventually, Thanos dragged himself out of bed. He didn't bother making it.
He shuffled into the bathroom, turned the shower on as cold as it would go, and stepped underneath.
Washed his hair twice, just like how he always did.
Freezed under cold water. But Thanos hated when it was hot. Most people hated cold water. Thanos hated warmth.
His body had gotten used to the cold years ago.
Even if some part of him still searched for warmth it knew it would never find.
Freshly dressed in a random oversized tshirt and baggy pants, he wandered into the kitchen. Semi had already left. He attempted to make scrambled eggs.
Attempted.
They ended up slightly burnt.
Funny.
He used to make perfect scrambled eggs.
The scrambled eggs tasted burnt.
Not completely ruined. Just enough to be disappointing.
Thanos stared at them for a moment before shoving some into his mouth.
"Yeah. Fantastic."
The apartment offered no response. Semi wasn't home. The silence felt strange, but not completely new.
He ate half of the eggs before abandoning them in the pan and grabbing his phone instead.
Three missed messages.
Goatking
Did you open....
Goatking
I know you di...
Goatking
Promise me y...
Of course, they were from Gyeongsu.
Thanos groaned. Without opening the chat, he locked his phone again.
An hour later, he was sitting crosslegged on the floor looking for a charger. His apartment somehow ate chargers.
He was halfway underneath his bed when his fingers brushed against something papery.
The envelope.
Apparently he'd knocked it off the nightstand.
"Oh."
Thanos pulled it out.
The clean beige paper looked oddly out of place among dust bunnies, old receipts, and a missing bracelet he'd been looking for three months ago.
He stared at it.
Then at the bracelet.
Then back at the envelope.
"Huh."
The bracelet seemed more important.
The envelope returned to the nightstand.
Around noon, Semi came home carrying two iced coffees. She putted them on the kitchen counter.
Then stopped immediately upon entering the living room.
The envelope was still unopened.
"So you didn't read it."
Subong looked up from the couch.
"I've been busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"I've been busy playing on my phone."
Semi threw a cushion at him.
It hit him directly in the face.
"Ow!"
"Read the stupid letter."
"Later."
"When?"
"Later."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're acting weird."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm literally sitting."
Semi stared for another second before giving up.
"Whatever."
At two in the afternoon, Goatking called again.
Thanos declined it.
The phone rang again.
Declined.
Again.
Declined.
A text appeared.
Goatking
OPEN THE LETTER.
Thanos typed back immediately.
WHY?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
Just do it.
Thanos rolled his eyes.
Not a reason.
No answer came.
By four, he'd left the apartment.
By six, he'd met Woojin, Jung, Bohyun, Eunju and Jaesung.
By seven, they'd somehow ended up sitting at a convenience store floor.
The envelope remained at home.
Unopened. Unimportant. Probably...
Except he kept thinking about it. Just a little. Not enough to care. Not enough to matter.
But enough.
Enough that when Woojin was talking about something, Thanos realized he hadn't heard a word.
"Earth to Thanos."
"Hm?"
"You listening?"
"Absolutely."
"You weren't."
"I was."
"You weren't."
Thanos looked away.
"I just zooned out, cantinue."
By the time he got home, the sky outside had gone completely dark. The apartment was quiet. Semi's bedroom door was closed. The kitchen light had been left on.
For a while, Thanos just stood there on his room. Then he noticed it.
The envelope. Back on the coffee table.
Semi must have moved it there. Right in the center. Impossible to ignore.
"Seriously?"
He picked it up.
The paper felt old. Not fragile. Just old. Like it had spent a long time waiting.
Thanos dropped onto the couch. The apartment hummed softly around him.
Refrigerator, traffic outside, someone laughing somewhere down the street.
Normal sounds. Normal night. Normal day.
Except for the envelope in his hands. His thumb brushed against the seal. He frowned.
The truth was...
He could've opened it this morning. Or at lunch. Or three hours ago. He'd had plenty of chances. So why hadn't he?
The room felt strangely quiet. Thanos stared at the handwriting. At the neat ink. At the paper.
Then, finally—
He slid a finger beneath the seal. And opened the letter.
To my dearest Subong.
The paper trembled slightly in his hands. Thanos frowned.
His fingers were shaking. He looked back at the first line.
His eyes reached the signature almost before he'd read the rest.
Love, your Namgyu.
Everything stopped. The refrigerator hummed somewhere behind him. A car passed outside. Someone laughed in the apartment upstairs.
The world kept moving. Thanos didn't.
Namgyu.
The name alone made something inside him snap. Not loudly. Quietly.
Like an old thread finally giving out after being stretched for years. His stomach twisted so violently he thought he might throw up.
"No..."
The word barely escaped. He wasn't talking to anyone. He wasn't denying anything. It just...
Came out.
His thumb pressed so hard into the paper that it wrinkled. Impossible.
Namgyu was dead.
Kim Namgyu was dead.
He'd been dead for almost ten years.
Ten years.
Ten birthdays.
Ten winters.
Ten summers.
Ten years of pretending that saying his name didn't hurt anymore.
Ten years of never saying it at all.
To my dearest Subong.
I have so much stuff I want to say, yet I can't bring myself to say stuff you won't wanna hear. I know you'd make fun of me for it. You'll probably say, "What is this, a love letter?" Shut up. Don't laugh, I'm trying. There are so many things I want to tell you that I have no idea which one should come first. You always told me I overthink everything, and you were so right. I know you hate reading, so it's pretty stupid of me to write a letter to you. I don't understand how someone who hates reading as much as you do can write so well.
Seriously, you'd rather listen to a ten hour podcast than read a twenty page book. But I know you're the one who will write lyrics that will make people cry. It's so unfair. I've always been jealous of that. You always know what to say. You always know how to make things sound beautiful. Even when they're ugly. I hope you never lose that. Even after I'm gone.
Which I'm assuming I am, if you're reading this. Gyeongsu, if you're the one who's reading this even if I told you not to, fuck off! Privacy please! Anyway, It's still weird knowing I'm probably death if anyone is reading this. Weird thought. You're older now. If it's the time I wanted these to arrive, you'd be twenty seven. Ten years. Did you dyed your hair purple like you always wanted? Please tell me you didn't. Actually...No. You probably did. Purple suits you. You'd actually look like that Thanos guy from Marvel. I'm not as nerd as you and Gyeongsu so I don't really know the character that well, but he sure is purple.
I wonder if you still wear those stupid rings that almost knocked my teeth out that one time you punched me. Before you get offended, yes, I know you didn't hit me that hard. You never did. Even when we fought. You always pulled your punches, I noticed. You probably thought I didn't.
Do you remember the rooftop? We always went to smoke there. Despite how many times Semi said we can't go there. We still did. Of course you remember it. You remembered everything embarrasing I've ever done. You keep bring up the time I bite your hand in first grade. Sorry, you were just trying to get me to talk. You were always so kind to me, Subong. We went to the rooftop that day. After Mr. Han's class. I cried. Again. I told you I didn't wanted to talk about it. You said "Okay". You didn't asked another question. You just kept talking about something stupid while I listened to your heartbeat. I don't even remember what you talked about. Comics? Rappers? Honestly, It could've been anything.
I did wanted to tell you what was wrong that day, I really did. I just couldn't find the words. You're always so much better than me with words. It's funny. Everyone thinks you're loud because you never shut up. I think you're loud because you're scared of silence.
We didn't talked for seventy two hours in January. Yes, I counted. Don't call me creepy. You know I'd count. We haven't been close like we used to since January. I've also counted it had been exactly 7 days since I've seen you. But I get it. You're spending more time in the studio downtown. Going to rap battles in clubs since you're already eighteen. It's not your fault I'm still seventeen. It's pathetic how much I also want to come. I don't even like rap. And you know I don't. You keep asking why I even want to come to something I don't like. It's pathetic.
I know I can be annoying. I know I ask too many questions. I know I get jealous over stupid things. I'm sorry. You know I hate it when you lie to me. If you hate me, atleast be honest about it. I think I'd rather hear that than wonder forever. I hope the answer is what I think it is. You always make it hard to tell. You remember me, right? It'd be embarrasing if you didn't after all of what happened. I think I'd completely dissapear if you forgot. That's selfish, isn't it? Sorry. One more thing, don't ignore the letters. There will be more.
Love, your Namgyu.
He read the first paragraph again.
Then the second. Then the third. His eyes moved faster than his brain could understand them.
Purple hair. Rings.
The rooftop. The bite mark. Seventy-two hours. Every sentence pulled another memory out of somewhere he'd spent years trying to bury.
He didn't cry. He couldn't.
It felt as if every emotion he'd refused to feel had turned to concrete inside his chest. His throat burned. His breathing became shallow.
He couldn't decide whether to keep reading or throw the letter across the room.
Instead...
He kept reading.
Every word made his stomach twist tighter. His jaw clenched. His fingers dug into the edges of the paper until they hurt. He hadn't felt anything in so long.
Not when strangers died. Not when people left. Not when he ruined his own life.
He'd laughed. Drank. Performed. Pretended. Nothing reached him anymore. Nothing...
Except this.
Except one stupid letter. Except one stupid name. Namgyu.
He hadn't realized how numb he'd become until something finally hurt again.
And God...
It hurt.