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There had to be a total of three cans of Monster, bubbling away inside his stomach and maybe six, coursing into the sewer.

This paper had to be done.

Wonwoo was thankful that the library at his university didn't close at all, due to the never ending shifts there. His computer had to be plugged in and plugged out of a charger every four hours. He hasn't come home.

Though his phone didn't vibrate and he had told his girlfriend not to bother him, only after every hour, Wonwoo still felt somehow sad that no notifications showed up on the screen.

"Hey, whatcha doing there, Wonwoo? Huh? You texting your boyfriend?" He heard quietly and the young man had to wince. It wasn't even 8 in the morning yet.

"Hey, I have a girlfriend." He replies quietly and shifts his glasses a bit closer to his eyes, hoping to God that he isn't bothered anymore.

"Oh, I'm sure. God, look at yourself. A mess. A goddamn mess," Wonwoo types faster, this time trying not to panic over the grammar errors left behind. "Does your so-called girlfriend even know? Tell your gay friend to leave you alone if you're so manly and straight. I can't believe you even called whatever he did to you just an accident. Let me guess; you didn't even tell your girlfriend?"

He slams his shaky hand on the keyboard of his computer and grit his teeth, shutting his eyes, almost as if doing these things would make all the bad things go away. A thunderstorm seems to be building up inside of him and every time a cold or warm front comes his way, he's so close, so close to ripping at the seams and bursting.

"How could anyone possibly ever like someone like you?" He hears louder, the voice has got to be filled with some sort of metal because it's harsh but so is the truth. "You cry when someone in your class gets a good grade. Sissy."

His thumb skimmed over the home button, triggering the phone to switch on, and it displayed his sole reason to wake up everyday. It was Byungi in hideous sunglasses, giving him a stupid look. He blinked. She did love him, right? Didn't she? Didn't she?

But then, he could already see her being built up and illuminated, like the Chrysler building in America, by someone else. Better, stronger. Didn't she love him?

"I feel bad for her, you know? She's just stuck with you; an obsessive, gay freak with no friends. She could do so much better. So, so much better." Wonwoo fidgets and squirms around in his chair, crinkling his eyes in a distraught way, pursing his lips; he's in pain.

"If he had been really your friend, he wouldn't have hurt you like that, not to mention that if you had any decency, you'd leave your girlfriend so she'd be free." It definitely isn't the tone that he is hearing that makes him want to just impulsively throw his life away; it's the truth, it's what had happened, it's everything.

"Maybe Soonyoung will finally say something about what he saw, huh? Maybe he'll confront your so-called best friend, or maybe he won't." There are only a few more transition words left to perfect his essay; it needs more, but it is all a process Wonwoo has to go through. However, the harsh truth makes everything all the more difficult, as if breathing by itself wasn't hard enough.

Jeon Wonwoo is not only a internal compound of insecurities and anxiety, but he also has severe heart problems. Don't forget this. *

He settles his face against the palms of his hands and shakes his head, declining with much desperation that this isn't what he wants to hear. Not to mention that this can't possibly be the truth, could it? If only Byungi were here to tell him. Everything she says is right, isn't it? Like when she tells him that she loves him, right? Right?

"Either publish a good book this time or let the poor girl go. You're wasting oxygen." He hears and Wonwoo finally slams his hand onto the surface, opening his eyes.

There's no one around. He checks behind the book shelves around him and realizes that the only other person there is the librarian, a shaky hand holding keys and a weathered book bag.

Convincing himself that tears are pointless, Wonwoo goes home. What's the use?