Saeyoung can't really remember when it all started. Well, that actually wasn't very accurate. He knows exactly-- down to every single detail-- how it starts. She shows up one day, the entire group chat goes insane, and then he starts rambling about this and that and who on Earth could this person be?

Yeah, Saeyoung's got the beginning down perfectly. He knows the middle and the end, as well. Most of the time. It's weird sometimes.

It's just... he can't remember when the true beginning started and how it felt like to genuinely be in shock over a stranger entering their supposedly sacred chat. He can't remember how it felt to feel the sudden anxiety and crippling self-doubt because he was supposed to be better than this, hacking and coding was his thing and if he didn't have that, what did he have and how, oh how, was this girl even here?

It was an admittedly odd transition from truthfulness to... whatever it is he is now. The past seemed so far away now despite him knowing the cold-hard facts. His name was Saeyoung Choi, his alias is 707, he left his brother at the age of fifteen which was... some years ago, he guesses. Feels longer, feels farther than it used to be. Years have passed since then-- more years than there should have been, but nobody really knows that do they?

The same old memes, too. There isn't a chance for advancement in the meme community because of this time loop or whatever.

But he tries. Oh God, does he try. With every beginning, he types in the same words over and over again. Wash, rinse, repeat. But his attention isn't on the words he's saying, his mind is wandering-- always wandering. He thinks of days in which she would talk about Elizabeth with Jumin, how she would react to Zen's too-obvious-and-cheesy flirting, and how she would lend a supportive ear for Jaehee.

And then he would wonder who she will target next. Sometimes it's Saeyoung she aims for immediately, sometimes she plays the whole game again starting from Yoosung all the way to himself.

Oh, yes, he remembers that one moment with her, in their home. After all the drama, she was there with him. So physical and warm; he didn't want to let go. The words just suddenly came out of his mouth, because he really didn't want to say goodbye for the sixth time. "Don't leave," He whispered, breath so close to her ear before she tilted her head to meet his gaze. And, fuck, the way she peered over her hair was always going to be cute and that made him even more desperate. If only he could find a way to never let her leave him. He was so tired.

"I won't," She said that lie again and she'll continue saying it again and again. To him, to them too. Always.

And then he kissed her, long and deep, trying to convey to her how much she was hurting him, how much she will continue hurting him. He wanted to hate her so badly at that moment, to the point where his thoughts starting going dark. Somewhere, a small part of him was whispering: hurt her. Make her scream. Claw your way inside her heart and rip it out if that's what it takes.

She was kissing back, enthusiastically. And if he was anyone but himself, he would have thought that she was trying to comfort him, telling him that she won't leave no matter what because she loved him, or some other bullshit like that.

It would have been so easy to snap her neck. He would have gone off script and ruin... something, but it might have been worth it.

Of course, he didn't. And he never came quite as close to hurting her from then on.

But he did ask before she played again and disappeared once more: "Why am I always last?" It was a stupid move that cost him a few more resets after. He spent the entirety of five more resets trying to convince her that he knew nothing by acting completely oblivious to whatever hints she was dropping. He made her believe that Reset Number Twelve 707 was special and no other 707 was as aware.

But before all that, she surprisingly indulged him. Maybe it was out of lingering fondness before she continued on with her dreadful cycle. "I always save the best for last."

It didn't make him feel any better. She wanted her words to comfort him, he knew. But it just didn't.

Whatever. He smiled at her anyway.

--------

When did he start seeing it as something that was "okay"?

Whenever she says something unnecessarily mean, or whenever she says something so obviously fake and meant to please, he never flinches anymore. He simply looks into the cameras where he can see her smiling at her phone and then promptly looks away, sharply. It feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't be looking at; it feels like he can see her soul and how rotten it truly was.

But he doesn't stop her.

He doesn't break her pattern or calls her out in any form. Instead, he plays along. He types "LOL" and teases and whines like a child as he patiently waits for his turn, eagerly wishing for her fingers to pass through his wild hair.

His bed always feels too big. He misses the way her long, thick hair would tickle his nose whenever he would rest his chin on top of her head. He misses the certain octave her voice would take when a cockroach landed on her turtleneck that one time.

He misses her everything.

Do the others see the same thing he does? Do they map out her face, drinking in every single feature? Do they play with her fingers, seeing how well-- how perfectly-- their hands fit together? Do they tuck a hair strand behind her ear and peck each of her cheeks reverently?

Do their hands tremble when they kiss her? Do they feel how powerless he feels? Do they feel the odd contradiction of hot passion and cold fear?

Do they feel lonely?

--------

Yoosung gushes in the group chat and Saeyoung doesn't particularly feel anything. Yoosung talks and talks about how great she is and how she reminds Yoosung of a person with blonde hair and too bright eyes.

And she laughs along, giving Yoosung an interesting mix of encouragement and reprimand.

So Saeyoung shrugs and says some bullshit about chocolate milk if he remembers correctly, and leaves the younger male alone for a while. A part of him used to feel bad, a part of him used to look at the others and think 'friend', but it becomes difficult when no one truly acts human anymore.

They're almost like... programs. And Saeyoung knows plenty about programs. Every response is pre-determined and expected. Nothing is done to cause a shift, not really, that job lies within her. She is the one who gets the balls rolling and the fire blazing. Everyone else just falls into line.

Ah, he thinks as Jumin says something witty at Zen, perhaps not everyone.

--------

"I want to touch her." Was the confession that came out of the Scion's mouth.

Saeyoung can't say he's surprised. Really. This is Jumin, after all. He's blunt, unapologetic and... kinky, he guesses. He remembers that one odd time she kept on playing Jumin's route again and again like she was chasing an addiction.

Saeyoung stares at Jumin for a total of five seconds before the dark haired male sighs, "It's... illogical. To be so enamored by her just in a few days," Saeyoung had nearly forgotten that this whole charade lasts a grand total of eleven days before the next reset. Wow. "I am ill at ease."

Saeyoung can't muster up the snort directed at his 'old man language,' instead, he motions for Jumin to continue talking. Perhaps he's acting out of character by being silent, understanding and patient, but in actuality, he was just tired. He had a rough night.

But Jumin doesn't continue speaking. He just keeps his mouth shut, staring at something only he can see and Saeyoung wonders. He looks at the man they all fondly call the Trust Fund Kid™ and wonders whether this means something. The words almost spill out his mouth impulsively, "Do you remember too? Do you remember how many times she has played with us?" But he doesn't.

Because it has been years. Years and years of this seemingly neverending cycle that consisted of eleven days. He and Jumin were different for some reason, but in the end, Saeyoung was alone with this cursed knowledge– this cursed existence. In Jumin's eyes, there is a gleam that screams want, yes, but it isn't the same old and terribly exhausting want Saeyoung sees in the reflection every godforsaken morning. Jumin's want is... for a lack of a better term, young; fresh.

He sees this look in the other's face and feels...

He doesn't know what he feels. Envy, perhaps?

So, even if there are odd moments where Jumin seems to possess a certain amount of self-awareness, Saeyoung knows better than to think his friend was truly aware.

Saeyoung allows his lips to curve and tries his best to look goofy and teasing despite how mechanical it feels to smile. It was like his cheeks are far too stiff, the inside of his mouth uncomfortably shifting at the new and odd position. 

And then he says with a slight coo,

"Perv~"

--------

Saeyoung often wonders what would happen if he goes off-script by a significant margin. He knows all the bad things that will happen, after all, why shouldn't he try to prevent that? 

But then he remembers her tender touch. He recalls her melodic voice and how it sounds when she whispers her name– "Saeyoung," she would say, sweet and smooth with that puff of warmth from her breath against his ear, and every inch of him felt cloudy as if he was high. And he might as well be high because he felt like he could float away, drift towards the sky, exit the atmosphere and get married at the space station. 

He fears. He fears that if he were to stop Yoosung from being blind in one eye, stop Zen from being a hero, stop them all from suffering to earn their happy ending that the cycle will... that she will never come back.

Saeyoung has lived in this little bubble of eleven days for far too long to even imagine life outside of it. What would he do? Everything has been about her, her, her. Will they all die if this game gets axed? 

Would dying really be all that bad?

And Saeyoung immediately shoots down that thought.

--------

She's coming, Saeyoung thinks to himself. He sees all the deliberate words she's using to capture his heart and Saeyoung laughs quietly to himself in his empty apartment. She has already captured his heart and he can't ever, ever get it back. 

He plays along and flirts with her. Saeyoung breathes deeply and closes his eyes briefly. He imagines himself oblivious and naive to her deceptive nature; he imagines being Reset Number Zero Saeyoung all over again. 

It helps. It doesn't help. He doesn't know. 

Surely he can enjoy this small exchange for just a little bit? He knows how the conversation will go, yes, but submerging himself in the thought of her coming back to him is too tempting, too sweet. He's addicted to her taste, her presence, her words, her everything. 

So, for a moment, Saeyoung entertains the desires in his head. He dreams of stripping her of her clothes, pulling her hair and biting her everywhere. His hands would roam around her body reverently, slowly. Every corner of her would be explored and wherever he would touch, his kisses would follow and he would savor the moment– savor her– because she isn't permanent and sometimes, in his head, she isn't tangible, and yet and yet and yet she can do so much to him. 

She's like an oasis in the desert and he is a dying man. 

He won't try to delude himself into thinking this is a symbiotic relationship. It's parasitic. It's just he doesn't know who the parasite is. 

--------

"Don't you think the stars look lonely?" 

She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow with a smile. It makes his heart flip. "No? Do you think they do?"

Saeyoung shrugs. "I guess. They're billions of lightyears away from each other, aren't they? There are not a lot of other stars close by and if they were to meet... well..."

"They merge together to make a larger star." 

"Well yes, or they could collapse and create a black hole."

She's staring at him and he stares back at her. "Are you trying to drive me away again? I thought we've been through this already– I'm not leaving you." 

His smile is bitter but he doesn't know if she knows that. "No, of course not. It was just small talk, y'know, small talk." He's silent for a while before speaking once more, "Would you still like to go to the space station with me one day?"

Her eyes crease and there's nothing in her expression that speaks of ingenuity. "Yes," She breathes and Saeyoung, for some reason, wants to cry. "Yes. A million times yes." 

"That day is far, far away," He says slowly, watching her face. And then quietly, he says, "It may never come." 

She doesn't say anything. She only wraps her hands around his and Saeyoung brings them up to his face, putting her hand on his cheek. He leans into the touch. 

"Are you okay with all this? Are you happy?" He doesn't know whether she understands what he's saying and he knows that if she does that means that he will have to play it safe for the next few resets, but the curiosity is burning him from the inside out. 

 And again, she says nothing. Saeyoung knows her time is nearly up. 

"Okay," He says. He doesn't say "I love you," or, "Please don't leave me." Those words are useless. So instead he brings his lips to her forehead and inhales her scent one more time. 

Then she fades. 

Game over.