‘𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨🐙.

You told him you’d be gone for no more than 5 minutes.

And usually, when you tell Hanbin things, such promises become your top priority—for no reason in particular other than that he was Sung Hanbin. Everyone liked Sung Hanbin, whether they’d admit to it or not.

Perhaps you stood ahead in line than others—reap the benefits of the title as his best friend, why not—but that position was distressing as it was rewarding considering all the train wrecks you had to witness practically firsthand. Cringing upon the first whiff of smoke in the form of heartbreak, you could only feel bad for that week’s victim who had fallen ill to Hanbin’s charms, who shoveled their nerves and confessed to him, sooted hands waiting to be taken by a pair as pure as his.

He never did. He never could; that, you knew very well based on the horrified looks he snuck over to you during the first few incidents. He’s gotten better at it, though—derailing the other person’s high-speed emotions, making it not as messy of a bloody blue ruin. As per every rejection, it ended with you two turning your backs and heading homebound together. Envy wasn’t always a green-eyed monster. It could also take on the form of a devastated high school student, eyes discerning the back of your head (rather than the obvious space between you and your friend) as though you had kicked dirt on them just then. Don’t you know better? The body’s still warm.

Homebound is where you should be right about now, but much to the shock of everyone else, you had a life outside of playing the role of “the one that always stands next to Hanbin; are they his significant other?” and, besides, you were people-pleasing elsewhere. Needing some last-minute material for an upcoming test, your teacher obliged the offer, but that meant taking time out of your day to actually confront them. You thought it would take no more than 5 minutes.

You told Hanbin that at approximately 4:37 PM.

It’s 5:23.

Perhaps on the way, you could sum up a valid excuse as to why you stayed way later than expected. Hanbin knew you were lagging behind in the class; he was the one helping you all this time, and it was more than likely that he was the one who tipped your teacher intel that you needed extra studying material in the first place. He tends to do that often. Care too much. Then again, you always tried to return the favor in other classes, no matter how bad you were, or, at the very least, attempted to buy or share your lunch. You physically had to fight to put a chip in his mouth once, which might or might not have resulted in choking, you profusely apologizing, and him simply smiling as if he didn’t almost befriend death.

It was the small things that made you love him.

Made people love him—you liked him a very normal amount.

. . .

Who are we fooling?

You were absolutely, tremendously, without a doubt, down terribly in the trenches in love with him! And it seemed everyone was well-aware, including your math teacher who not-so-subtly dropped the question only a few minutes ago, “Are you two an item yet?” Only problem was, you couldn’t tell the one person your feelings mattered most to. No, really, how could you? After every crush people have caught? After every crash he caused?

You weren’t willing to ruin what the two of you currently had. A relationship that exceeded mere acquaintances—one you always hesitated asking if it ever meant more to him. You even hesitated to ask someone else if they drew some sort of boundary with their friends when it came to physicality. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Hanbin to randomly entangle together, arms haphazardly overlapping with the other’s, however unintentional it may be. It was comfortable for the two of you, though perhaps not so much for passersby that looked at you with rage. A stark contrast between the way Hanbin looked at you with an unbelievable amount of tenderness.

. . . Regardless.

Hanbin was your best friend. 

You couldn’t leave him, and he wouldn’t leave you.

That’s what you thought before making it to the courtyard. No Hanbin in sight.

Huh. That was strange.

The thought of him leaving you…

Your shoes kicked into high gear while the sun trickled to disappear. As if a ghost of one of Hanbin’s victims possessed you, a surge of unbeknownst confidence compelled you to try. Because you were tired of standing at a railroad crossing. Because you were fascinated by train wrecks.

There was no doubt in your mind. You love Sung Hanbin.

Didn’t matter how other people felt or how anyone would look at you. You were practically first on the waiting list anyway; you should feel more than willing to announce your feelings to the world and let the wind carry your words over to him.

Thankfully, Hanbin takes extremely slow strolls, so you managed to catch up to him right when he crossed the railroad crossing. (That’s also strange. You guys rarely take this shortcut.) Unfortunately, you arrived right when the gates fell.

“Hanbin!”

All you could see was him. Him. Him. Him alone. You could already imagine how beautiful he’ll look when he turns around, unable to hear laughter blocked out by what sounded like a siren.

You called his name another time. Possibly another.

Though the last was cut off by the incoming train, bells ringing, severing the red thread that connected you two until parted by death.

You braced for impact, a grimace replacing your previous dazed expression, but all you really felt was the wind pushing you back. You think the universe saved you just now.

Then the ringing stopped. You opened your eyes, expecting him to initially chastise you for being so reckless before teasing you for saying his name like a lovesick fool. But all he did was stare at you. Sure, there resided some specs of endearment in his eyes—that would never change—but the rest of his features reminded you so much of the horror-struck looks he gave you upon every confession. All he did was stare at you.

Meanwhile, all you could do was stare at her.

You’ve seen her before. She’s pretty—long sleek hair adorned by a headband, an accessory Hanbin doted on in the past for a reason beyond your one-sided awareness.

However, it wasn’t the headband that drew your attention or made your eyes bulge out of their sockets. It was the space between them, or lack thereof when you noticed their hands glued together.

You must’ve stared long enough not to notice the gates rose, clashing with your confidence that diminished instantly right to the soles of your shoes.

You only picked your head up when he called your name, as gently as he could.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he mirrored in the same nervousness.

Glancing between them was a difficult task not to do. “Sorry it took so long, I… had to get some help from my teacher.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he made sure to say that first, sneaking a look to the side. It was still his part, and you knew this script far better than anyone else. “I’m sorry — I forgot to introduce you.”

You didn’t catch her name. That was, without a doubt, the least interesting part of his sentence. Still, the words ‘My girlfriend’ resounded perfectly in your ears.

“Oh.” Congrats, you incorporated your first-ever adlib in your role, but please, follow the script. “Since—since when?”

“Since now, I think,” the girl finally took charge of the lines, attentive to neither yours nor Hanbin’s broken expressions, but she (at the very least) picked up on the awkward situation unfolding. “I guess I asked Hanbin out a few weeks ago? And he said yes, but we didn’t go anywhere from there until today when I… asked him to walk me home.”

“A few weeks ago?” Your breath fell short despite saying only four words. 

Hanbin didn’t necessarily have the gall, but to better his conscious, he had to deliver an answer. “It happened in the middle of a convenience store.” Translation: he didn’t think that much of it.

“And you said yes?” Your voice was quiet. For the first time, Hanbin forgot what to say. For the first time, he forgot how to redirect the train. There was only one rail, and it was headed straight for the two of you.

Out of every confession leading up to now, this was by far the worst.

“Yes.”

At some point in time, he lost his girlfriend’s hand, but she delicately laced it back with his as pure reassurance, prompting him to add: “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been crushing on her all year. I figured, why not?”

He’s been crushing on her all year? He’s never mentioned that before, has he? If so, how could you not have possibly known?

“Why not…” Your body’s breaking down, losing function. “Why didn’t…” …you tell your best friend? Why didn’t you tell me you were on the cusp of killing your own best friend? “Why don’t you walk her home this week?”

That definitely wasn’t the response Hanbin was expecting, or wanted. But the director is intrigued, seeking confirmation as to whether their actors know their characters as much as they did, persisting in the change in script.

“What?” Anyone could’ve heard how his voice dejected an octave lower.

“Yeah… yeah, you know,” you trailed in, unsure as to whether you really meant what you were about to say, “I’m staying after to study for the test soon. I wouldn’t want you to walk home alone. Either of you.”

Hanbin convinced himself those last few words were rushed because the ones before were definitely a direct hit on him, and there’s not a second in this situation when he doesn’t regret saying yes to his girlfriend’s homeward request.

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Are you serious?” He didn’t mean to interrupt his girlfriend as he did, and he especially didn’t want to sound as exasperated as he did. Nothing could stop your eyes from flashing a bit of concern; it was built into your system that Hanbin’s well-being was priority #1. “If you still need help, I could come over.”

Was he upset with you? Anger is common as far as human nature goes, but the genuine kind never rose between you and him. You’ve certainly seen him tense up in situations like confessions or tests even he didn't study for (no thanks to you), but did his shoulders always buckle so tight?

“I think you’ve helped enough.”

There, you’ve done it. Now, there lies two casualties. That red thread of fate did last until the very end.

“B-But I’m here now!” You sounded more enthused than you were. “And I don’t want to hold either of you up, so let’s start walking, yeah?”

You extended your arm, gesturing for them to lead the way. Part of you hoped he’d take your tainted hand instead, but he never did. He never could. His girlfriend had to tug for his body to finally react, and you witnessed his face surf through a plethora of emotions before settling on a forced cordial smile—one he used after every killing.

This moment felt all too familiar. Déjà vu all over again, only you felt out of place. This was a change in scenery. Rather than spotting the sunset, you watched as the couple turned their backs, your eyes boring into the back of an innocent’s head, who walked in the position you once had.

You were prepared to play the kicked puppy, a gate of tears ready for their cue. But you couldn’t, not when the boy who did away with your innocence walks already guilted with so many bodies, some that hadn’t even gone cold.

So, you never did.