"I'm really sorry that I can't be there with you," Hoseok said sourly through the phone. His call had come in at past 3 in the morning and I knew his tight schedule had been the reason for the late night call. "I wish there was a way I could make you feel better but I know nothing I do would make a difference."

With my head in my hand, I said quietly. "Hearing your voice is enough. You sound well. How's training?"

"Training's fine," Hoseok said with a sigh. "But I didn't call to talk about my training or even about myself. I called because I want to talk about you. How are you holding up?"

I shrugged, although I knew Hoseok couldn't see me. "I don't know. You know how things were when he left the first time?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, this hurts ten times more. I've had a panic attack like 8 times since I found out. Sometimes I feel like I'm accepting it. I tell myself that it's for the best, at least, he won't have to suffer anymore. But then it's surreal, he really is gone and I'd never see him again, and it-" My voice cracked and I took a moment before continuing. "It feels like my heart's about to implode. It's not even a day yet."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I-" Hoseok was obviously torn and frustrated about the news and how I was taking it. "I don't- Do you need me to come back? I'll come back. I don't care what the agency says." There was shuffling around him and I could imagine him leaving his bed in his dorm and going to pack up some stuff.

"No, Hoseok. Wait. You don't need to come back."

"I do. You need someone around you. I'll come back and stay for a few days before-"

"I'm not alone," I said, turning a little to where Jungkook was sleeping half naked on my bed. He looked so peaceful and I could almost feel the same way just by looking at him. A shaky exhale left my lips, as I looked away. "I have Namjoon, remember?"

Even if I was in love with Jungkook—head over sneakers and all that—I couldn't bring myself to say anything about him to Hoseok. I respected Hoseok too much and would never intentionally break his heart.

At least, not yet, because I wouldn't hide Jungkook forever, and one way or another, everyone I cared about would have to know about him and that included Hoseok.

"Jin, please, let me be there for you."

"Talking to you is enough for me, Hoseok," I said sincerely. I had been getting so many calls all evening which I had avoided. Hoseok's was the only I answered because even though I knew the others meant well and I appreciated each of them, Hoseok was different, he was like my soulmate, regardless of our fucked up situation.

"You want me to believe that?"

"Yes, Hoseok. I'd never lie to you, you know that. I want you to stay and continue with your training because despite everything, I want the best for you and breaking rules is not going to be in your favor."

"Have you seen our stats? We're doing so well. We're trending every day. They won't send me away."

"Not send you away, but there are other ways to punish you, to dim your light and take the spotlight off you. I read news articles everyday, I see what these kpop celebs go through in the hands of selfish and horrible management, and I would never want you to be in such position, especially because of me."

I meant well for Hoseok. I wanted the best for him, but if Hoseok were to be close, I would have let him hug me for a minute or 5.

Hoseok had helped me in the past. After my father left and I had spiraled into my own little box, Hoseok had been the one to bring me out of it. He'd helped me cope and opened my heart to love. He meant more to me than he imagined.

Never did I think I could love any other person like I loved Hoseok. But love was a strange concept that sprung strange things on people. I could even say that I might have fallen a little in love with Jungkook the first day we slept together. It had been easy to just fall over completely, eventually.

Now, Hoseok was a friend I never wanted to lose or see get hurt. He was someone who calmed me down even from afar.

"I'll be fine, Hoseok," I said when Hoseok had been quiet for so long. "I promise."

"Alright. But you know you can call me anytime. Whenever you need me, just pick up the phone and call me, okay?"

"I know. I will. Take care of yourself."

"Also, the boys are here. They said to send their love," Hoseok said.

Those words brought a smile to my face for the first time that evening. "The members of BRAG are sending their love to me?"

"I'm the leader of BRAG, Jin, and I'm eagerly at your beck and call. You have no idea how special you are."

"I might have a bit of an idea. Thank you, Hoseok. And tell them thanks for me."

After ending the call with Hoseok, I lay in bed all night long, unable to sleep and unable to get images of my father out of my head.

Every time I shut his eyes, I saw the man; eyes sealed shut forever, body cold and rigid, insides rotting and I couldn't stop my lips from trembling or my heart from aching, so I stayed there suffering and trying to muffle my ceaseless sobs.

Jungkook left at the crack of dawn, promising to call me as soon as the sun rose.

I stayed in my room until I heard sounds coming from beyond the door, indicating my mum or aunt was up.

My mother looked like a wreck. She didn't try to hide her pain and just wore it like a cloak. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her wrinkled were more pronounced. In a matter of hours, she aged 10 years.

When she looked up at me from where she was standing in front of the bathroom, she shook her head and tried to muster an encouraging smile but her lips shook and she bit onto it hard.

Without saying a word, she walked into the bathroom and shut it behind her. Later she came downstairs where Aunt Soohyun was preparing breakfast that no one was going to eat and asked me to go and prepare, so we could go and visit the funeral home.

I didn't protest. I went upstairs, took a shower, wore the perfume Jungkook had bought me and put on my best church.

The ride to the funeral home was quiet but tense. My mother sat at the backseat with Aunt Soohyun while I had sat in front with the uber driver. No one said a word or made a sound, but I knew everyone's mind was chaotic with thoughts, even the uber driver who was probably wondering who died.

Jungkook's call came multiple times during the ride, but I didn't answer any. I didn't want to raise any suspicions or lie at such sensitive time, so I put my phone on silent and sent Jungkook a quick message.

We're headed to the funeral home. I can't talk now.

Jungkook's response came in seconds later. Ok, baby.

Then another text came in. Take care of yourself. I'll see you later.

We arrived at the funeral home with guests pouring in and out. I felt my twist for the first time that day when I saw my father's wife. If my mother looked like she had aged 10 years overnight, the woman looked like she'd been run over by a truck filled with concrete. The dark circles around her eyes gave the 'smokey eyes' makeup a run for its money. They were red and swollen like she had an allergic reaction and she was constantly sniffing into a white hanky as she greeted guests.

Me and my mother went to pay our respects to my father first, before approaching her. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she started bawling when my mother touched her on her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. I knew my mother had a big heart but I didn't think I could bring myself to do that.

I stood behind my mother trying to make sense of the whole scenario when I felt a tug on my trousers. Looking down, I spotted a kid of about 7 staring up at me with big, dark eyes. I didn't need a soothsayer to identify whom it was. The plump lips were a Kim boys trademark. He was my father's son.

I swallowed before staring down at the innocent looking boy. That was my brother. Growing up I had been an only child and until a minute ago, that was what I was. But not anymore. I had a little brother, one that looked so much like me, he could have been me a few years ago.

"I want to show you something I learned," he said, taking my hand and pulling me out of the room and into a wide hallway. There, he let go of my hand and stood away. He tugged down his suit jacket that had ridden up a bit, took a deep breath, let it out, threw both hands up in the air and tossed himself forward in the most awkward cartwheel I had ever seen.

It was so wobbly and cute that I found myself smiling. The kid let out a deep sigh like he was an elderly man. "I know I suck at it," he admitted. "But when dad got sick, he was always looking sad but he smiled every time I did it. You were looking sad, and dad said it's my responsibility to make you smile."

"Dad?"

The boy nodded before sliding down on the floor, hitting his foot together in rhythm. "He said you were going to be sad when he's gone, and for me to show you my trick so you wouldn't be sad anymore. I guess he was right and it worked," He said proudly.

I tentatively walked over and sat beside him on the cold floor. "You know he's gone?" The boy nodded. "How do you feel about it?"

He shrugged. "At least, he's not in pain anymore. Mum says I'm too young to understand what it means for him to be gone but she's wrong. I know I won't see him again and that sucks. But when dad was sick, he was always vomiting and sometimes, I'll catch him crying. I play a lot so I get a lot of injuries, the nurse at the hospital says dad felt the pain a million times and I don't know how much that is but I know it was a lot. I'm just happy he won't feel it anymore, even if it means I won't see him again."

For a moment, I stayed quiet while he just played with the hem of his jacket. "What's your name?"

"Junho! Kim Junho!"

Junho. Kim Junho.

"Do you know my name, Junho?"

His lips widened into a grin and he nodded his head once. "Yes, hyung. You're Kim Seokjin, my older brother."

In a matter of seconds, this stranger had become my brother. In a matter of seconds, this stranger who had become my brother had started to steal my heart.

"That's right." Junho gasped, reaching into his jacket to grab a sheet of paper that had been folded into a small square. "I brought this for you."

I took the paper from him. "What is it?" I asked, slowly unraveling it.

"Dad said to give this to you. He told me if you ever visited him at the hospital, he would ask me to destroy it, but if he didn't tell me anything, that I had to hand it to you," Junho said. "I didn't show it to anyone including my mum because he said it was a secret between the men in the family," he said, proudly.

Flipping the paper open, I found out it was a letter he'd written to me. The writings were shaky, showing how sick he'd been. My heart broke even before I started to read it.

Seokjin, I read, taking in a shaky breath.

If you're reading this, it means I was not able to see you before the inevitable. But I hope this letter finds you well.

When I found out about my sickness, you were the first person I thought of. I didn't ask God why it happened to me and I didn't ask him to save me. The first thing that came to my mind was, 'Not again. You're really leaving this kid for the second time.'

The thought of breaking your heart again made me hurt more than the cancer did. It killed me more than the sickness. Because I needed time to make amends. I needed time to see you and be a father to you again, because being your father is the best thing that happened to me.

Because I became a father because of you. Because you were the first person to ever call me dad. Because you were the first child I ever fell in love with. And still, I hurt you.

I have no justification for hurting you. I love you so much and at a point in my life, your mother was my world. But I fell out of love with your mother, and you were the one who suffered it. And for that, I am sorry.

I'm not a saint, Seokjin. I'm not justifying my actions because whatever I write in here or say to you, it could never take back the years I left you angry, sad and broken hearted. It wouldn't take back the fact that I broke the promise I made to you the day you were born and left.

The words blurred and my hand fell from my face. I clasped my hand over my eyes, forcing back the sobs choking my throat. I felt taps on my leg, comforting and soothing.

I looked down to find Junho's small hand on me, his head resting against the wall, as he stared ahead at the wall. Heaven knew I was grateful for his presence.

Pulling myself together, I continued with the letter.

I wish I could say all these to your face. I want to tell you that I'm sorry and that I would understand if you never forgive me. I would never forgive myself for leaving you.

But I want you to always know that you are the center of my world. You and Junho. I don't want you to ever think you were not enough reason for me to stay because you, were reason enough. I'm only human and I had to make the most difficult decision I'd ever had to make in my life.

I am so sorry. I am sorry. I want to apologize a million times over but even that would not be enough. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for leaving the first time and I'm sorry for leaving again, and even though I won't be lucky to see it, I know you would grow to become a better husband and father than I was.

All I ask is that you live a good life and be happy. Take care of yourself, Son.I love you so much.

— Love, Dad.