3rd Person POV
Bang bang!
The heavy knock on the wooden sliding door echoed through the hallway of the house, making the person inside the room click their tongue in annoyance. "YAH! KWON JOOHWAN, THE DOOR, WILL YOU?!" the woman's voice shouted, her frustration evident in her tone.
But that only caused him to roll to the opposite side of the bed and bury his head behind the pillow to block out the sound of his aunt yelling. She said, "Oh god, this guy, seriously," and the sound was muffled outside the door.
"YAH! WILL YOU BE COMING OUT? She yelled and banged on the door once more before giving up and leaving in a fit of rage. She murmured to herself as she left, leaving Joohwan to sulk in peace in his room. "I don't know what the use is of you locking yourself in there all day," she said.
Wearing heavy white sheets, he moved gently to the opposite side while gazing off into space. His thoughts felt lost in a void that never returned to him. The only sound to shatter the eerie calm in the room was his heavy sighs. Kwon Joohwan felt more alone than ever when a whirlpool of emotions swept through his head.
A voice called out to him once more, "Hyung!" and he snapped out of his reverie. But a younger man this time. Kwon Taekwang, his cousin, was standing in the doorway, his face showing concern, which Joohwan could infer from the younger's voice. "What's wrong?" Taekwang asked quietly as he moved toward the door, allowing Joohwan to see his tall shadow on his sliding door.
"I'm all right. Furthermore, tell Aunt not to knock on the door too much; I need some alone time," Joohwan answered, his voice just loud enough for Taekwang to hear but barely above a whisper. Because of the lack of sleep he had been experiencing, there were a few shrieks scattered between what he said.
"Hyung, hiding yourself in this way is not healthy for you. You've been drawing for more than nine years—"
"I said I need time alone, Taekwang!" Joohwan snapped, and Taekwang cut in mid-sentence and finally slid his door open. His hair became longer and messier, and his eyes became bloodshot due to a lack of sleep. There were bags under those bloodshot eyes, and that face, once known for being so popular in his school, though he never said a word, was known no longer and had lost its glow. In one word, he looked restless and strained. He no longer wanted to be around anybody, including his closest friends.
Taekwang gasped at the abrupt outburst but refused to give in. His dark brown eyes softened as he noticed Joohwan's messy form, including shadows under his eyes and shaky hands.
"Hyung," Taekwang said softly, without giving force. "You must stop killing yourself in this way. Sleeping, eating, and locking yourself up are not healthy for you."
But Joohwan looked away from Taekwang; he muttered, "I don't need a lecture," and gripped the door's edge. It looked like he was going to slam it shut once more.
Taekwang let out a loud sigh, and his face instantly flashed with frustration before he suppressed it back into concern. "Hyung, this isn't a kind of thing. It's a worry. Do you think that we are clueless about what's happening? Would Yoonsuh Hyung be happy to see you in this condition?"
Joohwan's entire body stiffened at the mention of Yoonsuh. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white where they gripped the door, and yet Taekwang continued, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "It wasn't your fault—"
"Enough!" Joohwan roared, cutting Taekwang off mid-sentence. "I would rather not hear it," he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. "Just leave me alone." The voice was like a blade that was sharp enough to cut.
However, it did nothing to stop or make Taekwang wince. Rather than stepping away, he put his warm hand on Joohwan's wide shoulder. His brown eyes glowed with the hope that his hyung would win over his past. "No. It's not your place to turn me away. Not while I was there. When I know."
Joohwan's hand trembled. The air between them felt suffocating, like cutting off the oxygen. "You don't know anything," Joohwan hissed, but his voice broke, betraying him.
This time, Taekwang couldn't keep back his frustration; his eyes burned. "I know how you rushed to the motel as soon as you heard his last voicemail. I know you—"
"KWON TAEKWANG!" Joohwan's voice almost resonated down the corridor—a half-scream, half-sob. His entire body trembled, and he breathed in ragged breaths. For years, the tears that never fell burned in his eyes.
Taekwang didn't flinch. Unlike Joohwan, his dark brown eyes are glistening in pain. "I know," Taekwang said, now gentler but more determined. "I know you arrived too late. I know you saw him. And I know that you've been hating yourself every day since," he added, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Joohwan's eyes dropped. He caught himself on the doorframe, his vision becoming blurry like a fog around his eyes. His memories of that night flew past his eyelids like a nightmare he couldn't shake.
The motel room.
The whispers.
The fire.
And...Yoonsuh.
Joohwan was late, always too late, always failing the people he loved.
Without saying anything and without hearing Taekwang's next plea, Joohwan slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving Taekwang alone in the hallway. Taekwang hung his head low, his murmur barely heard through the wood. "I miss him too, hyung."
On the other side, Joohwan slid down the door, collapsing on the floor. His eyes burned, always burned, but tears never fell. Not since that night. Not since his mother's funeral when he was a child. Never after Yoonsuh, who had smiled at him through flames.
Yoonsuh's last voicemail, still saved in his phone, echoed in his mind. Or the visions from the nightmare.
The boy's voice is weak but calm. Too calm as always. "Hyung... I'm sorry. Tell the others—tell them I just got worn out."
The screech of the tires as Joohwan's car skidded to a stop outside the motel.
The smell of smoke before he even reached the door.
The shattered mirror reflected the flames.
He was pulled back by the people around him while Yoonsuh smiled, standing in the middle of the fire that swallowed him whole. The way Joohwan screamed Yoonsuh's name.
Joohwan's hand clawed at his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could still hear his screams echoing in his skull.
"YOONSUH-YA! MOON YOONSUH, NO! PLEASE COME OUT!!!"
But the fire had answered for him, leaving Joohwan with nothing but guilt, trauma, and Yoonsuh's last words, which seared into his mind and never left him to forget.
His fingers dug into his chest, his nails tearing through the fabric of his shirt, as if he could rip out the memories that were festering beneath his ribs. His breaths came in jagged, uneven gasps—too quick and too shallow. The room spun around him, the walls closing in and the air thick with phantom smoke.
"Hyung... I'm sorry."
That voice. The same voice followed him everywhere—in the silence of his room, in the hum of the city outside, and in the spaces between his thoughts.
"Tell them I just got tired."
Tired.
Yoonsuh had been tired.
And Joohwan ... he failed to see it.
A broken sound tore from his throat, making his vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into the past.
The motel door splintered under his kick.
The unbearable heat swallowed the oxygen from his lungs.
Yoonsuh's silhouette, wreathed in flames, is turning toward him
That smile. That final smile...
"STOP—!!!"
Joohwan didn't realize he'd screamed until his throat burned. His hands flew to his ears, as if he could block out the memories, the remorse, and the sound of Yoonsuh's words, but to no avail. The past did not let go easily.
Neither did the fire...