|I could live,I could die hanging on the words you say...|

Dive-Ed Sheeran
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He succeeded to cure his hangover headache with a long sleep on a sofa because the bedroom was too far away.

The Sun was alredy setting down when his eyes flutter open looked at the wreckles of the celing. The smell of his lonely apartment reminded of yestreday's coffee and remains of beer at the bottoms of empty cans. Today's last,redish sunrays were making strange shadows on white walls and polaroid photos on them.  Many small shelves secured his dear little cactuses from falling into darkness of the hall or cold room's corners, in which they couldn't survive. So the sunrays are cutting and bleeding on the sharp prickles and disappear uder his eyelids that fall slowly,back to sleep,again.

In his half sleep,before his eyes the red sunrays and empty cans of beer were dancing around in slight mist of tiring rest.  No faces were in his dreams,but words,messyly writen all over blank pages,blurred and ununderstendable.

After the nightmares were over, the Moon was already greeting him through soft fabric of curtains and clean window glasses. His eyes,swollen and used to darkness,were blinded by milky light spilled all over his living room.  Tiny specs of dust floating in the air sticked on the blank paper laying on distant table. His body,although numb,forced to stand, moved to the known,comfortable chair and heavy pen.

The words were now floating on paper,in lines of smudged ink and messy handwriting. His head was trrobing with headache again, as his hand  muscles restlessly and painfuly wrote poems.  In words his soul was poured on paper in a way he didn't like so soon the floor was flooded by small balls made of paper.

His fingers numb from coldness of the  room in midnight. Maybe wasted paper could make some fire and use by warming his body. So soon the paper,with pieces of his soul on it, was burning wildly in the ashtray.

He didn't even know why he has so many ashtrays when he is not smoking. Maybe he should start because they say it's calming, but then he remembered that his father smoked so it looked disgusting to him instanly. But his father had problem with drinking too, and yet Baekhyun started drinking too. No matter how much he hated alcohol,because because of it he had the most terrible and painful memories,he drank it anyway. That feeling of spinning and worrilessness was what he needed the most these past days.

To forget. Even if its temporarly. Because easing the pain was his priority.

Writing couldn't help much recently. All his poems seemed bad and meaningless,or too pathetic. "No wonder noone likes them" he thought.
Despite those thoughts the feeling like the part of him is burning and dying with paper,was overwhelming him. So strong emotions that could make someone cry,ran through his veins ending in his eyes in form of transparent,salty liquid.

He didn't cry for a long time because nothing seemed so important and moving but it was. There were so many reasons for him to cry these past days but he didn't let the tears flow. His father used to say that real men never cry, bit he was the only person that could always make his son cry like a little baby. Even now,despite all other problems and pains,Baekhyun had an image of his father before his eyes,blurred from crying for so long without noticing.
The anger boiling in his body was crushing with strong feelings of embarrassement and helplessness.
He was so weak in front of his life that suddenly gone wrong. Maybe it was wrong from the start but he was blind before.

Blind for pain that followed every his step,every movement of his hand when he is wrirting. The ignorance and sensesless helped him to live well till now but it seemed like after that drunken night he became sober for real this time. Like he was drunk for years letting the unimportant people inffluence him and his life. Words terrified him before but now he felt so indifferent about everything and everyone, like he became numb and faithless. The truth is that he was scared of other people's comments and acts,of himself-that he will make some wrong move and send everyone to hell because he was so done with everyone. The loneliness that huged him now with cold tears and shivering was better than pityful or envious glares of other people.

Sick of everything he felt like vomiting after the long episode of crying his soul out and screaming silently in emptiness of his big,cold apartment. White light of the Moon and lamp was hugging his cactuses and other plants, he was growing, reminding him about them as his passion and friend. His cure from everything.

So there he was watering his cactuses for the third time this week in two in the morning humming some slow song. This amount of water will probably kill them soon but he was so oblivious about that.

The dust floating in the air and lying on shelves irritated him so much,the furniture wasn't so pleasing for his eyes as it was when he rented this apartment. Soft sniffs cutting the silence,few more tears falling as he was moving armchairs and books, coffee table and rugs in loneliness and cold atmosphere huging his body coated with sweat and thin shirt. The room soon became a mess of furniture and books lying carelessly on floor. His loud panting and cursing could be heard together with an old clock in the corner- the only thing that belonged to him. His mother found and restored that clock for his room in their house then, but he ended up being draged from apartment to apartment as his owner was restlessly trying to find home. The poor thing was showing three in the morning trying to convince its owner to take a rest if he doesn't want an astma attack.

In five everything was neat and clean. New disposition of things in room made him happy but also tired and at the edge of choking. He opened the window letting the fresh air clean his lungs and mind.

Nostalgia gripped his heart as he thought how his mother would have  scolded him if she knew he was standing in cold air all sweaty and light dressed. She was always so caring and protective. Although he was all grown up now he felt he needs her hug and comforting words so much. The tears again tickled his eyes but he blinked couple of times to stop them.

The morning in his neighborhood smelled like freshly baked bread and esspreso,mint tea and wet ground. The scent of metal and cleanser lingering in air as he was walking down the street in early morning,still without pure,warm sunrays. Couple of ladies passed by him on their way to market too.

As his legs were working their way to bunch of people,veggetables and money his nostrils sensed the smell of freshnes and roses. The tall trees made place for sunlight and colorful mass of people at market. Who would expect so many people up so early in the morning.

His target were roses,pink ones-favorite flowers of his mother. He wanted to buy them for her and place them beside the clock she gifted him so long time ago. This morning is filled with memories of his childhood. The beautiful ones. The sad momories and pain from his childhood he left in dried tears on floor of his aprtment this morning.

"Good morning." the old lady was smiling behind the bunch of roses in various colours. He didn't know why she reminded him of his grandmother and mother in some way. Maybe with that warmness in smile and eyes that all mothers have, she reminded him of women he lost years ago. Strike of pain hit him with every her smile as she packed the roses for him.

"Do you have grandchildren?" the sudden questin escaped his mouth making the old lady to stop in her tracks and his hand to stay in the air,lightly holding the money.

"No. But my daughter is pregnant." Smile covered her face. Behind that smile and wrinkles around her eyes he saw pure happiness of poor people who don't care what job thay are doing as long as it's just and for someone they love. This woman probably woke up in four this morning to come here and sell flowers so she could buy something for her pregnant daughter and grandchild. He smiled at that thought.

"That's nice. Your daughter loves you. Don't forget that. I'm buying these for my mother."

"She must be happy because she is blessed with such a great child like you."

"She was." he mumbled almost inaudibly and left in quick steps,tightly gripping the bouquet in his hand.

At his doorstep he ran  into the person he wanted to see the least in that moment. Chanyeol was casualy leaning against the wall in his always perfect black suit,with bag full of beer cans in his hands. Although he tried to look casual,Baehyun could see a glimse of fear in his eyes when he looked his straight in the eyes.

Baekhyun knew that he can't get rid of him utill he listens to what he has to say, so he just unlocked his door and left them open after he stepped inside.  Seeming unbothered he continued walking through room,decorating the corner with clock with flowers he brought.

Chanyeol entered his apartment hesistantly,but acted as it's his own. He setled in one armchair,emptied the bag and made a row of beer cans on coffee table. Soon the room was filled with smell of beer that suffocated gorgeous scent of roses and fresly made tea. Baekhyun was annoyed.

He didn't want to talk to his ex best friend knowing that that will annoy him even more and ruin this seemingly peaceful morning so he decided to ignore him. That didn't last long because Chayeol soon started the conversation with something that made Baek's brearh and heart to stop.

"Is it today? I see that you bought roses."

He tried to remember but his brain wasn't cooperating. The pain stoped all functions of his body. The pain of guilt and hurt pride. He couldn't allow Chanyeol to remember such a date better than him.

"It's not today. Do I need reason to buy my mother flowers?"he tried to answer as bitterly as he could but his voice was weak and rough from nontalking and alcohol. Maybe he caught a cold too.

"Sorry."

Chanyeol's deep,smooth woice echoed in the room lower than usual full of hidden guilt and fear. He then took a great amount of beer into his sistem to clear the thought of Baekhyun never talking to gim again after what happened at Friday.

He stood up and walked nervoulsly around the room not knowing what to say.

Baekhyun knew how much meaning that one 'sorry' had. Forgivness creeped into his heart as soon as he saw regret in Chayeols eyes. He knew that he can't be mad at him forever. No matter how much pain the recent happenings caused him he couldn't hate the person in front of him.

Because that man was with him through all his hardships and happy moments for more that ten years. He was like a brother he never had and someone he calls whenever he needs help. This morning he needed help,that evening he needed help, when those guys were mercilessly punching him.
Although anything of that wouldn't happen if Chanyeol didn't betray him, he missed his best friend so much in those critical moments.

He couldn't let that one sorry to fix all his broken feelings and erase all his bruises and tears. He was too proud. His mother thaught him to have dignity always and his father told him that need to forgive  friends too often means that they are not real.

He knew that Chanyeol is real but he ciuldn't step onto his pride and forgive so easily.

"Why did you come Chanyeol?"

"Huh? Well it's Sunnay and we usualy hang out at Sundays. So I brought the beer. "

"You can pick it up and leave my house."Baekhyun raised his voice a bit and it felt wrong. The unsetling feeling of lingering guilt was engulfing him as he sat across Chan.

The elegance of a man in front of him made him insecure about his sweatpants and tee that girl gave him. He didn't shower,he hasn't eaten for two days and he still was troubling with headache. And Chanyeol looked elegant even on Sunday. Like he is going on meetng from Baekhyun's house. That made Baekhyun feel inferior and not worthy enough to even sit with him.

"Look Baek I am so sorry about your book but you know that I wasn't the one deciding. When he heard about your father he cancelled everything."

At mention of his father his chest tightened and strange paing ran through his blood vassels making him straighten his back and taka a can of beer. Known feeling of bitter taste hitting his senses calmed him as the coldness of liquid made his muscles less tense.

He felt the truth in Chanyeol's words but he was hurt anyway. His friend promised him, when they were at colege, that he will help him publish his poems and now he didn't make it true. That broke Baekhyun's heart. He believed in promises and  people who live up to them. He believed in always supporting friends and truth. He believed that Chanyeol can make everything possible with his knowledge and kind heart. He believed that his poems are something. Something beautiful consisting his feelings and thoughts,helping people to understand some aspects of life and world that aren't so obvious.

"You promised." he said through gritted teeth as his eyes were burning. He was angry but the source of his anger and wish to punch the man in front of him,fidgeting with his fingers nervously,was unknown.

Maybe he was mad at himslef because he is not able to forget about humiliation he recieved because of other people,not Chanyeol. He remembered all the good things he did for him and that he was the only person who could listen to all his stupidities.

"I tried. I tried so hard. I'll try again. Please understand me. I can't go so far to lose this job. It means a lot to me. It's.."

"Your dream. I know. But what abour my dream Chan?"

He couldn't supres his anger anymore. He was mad at world and him and his father and himself. He hated that he's going to be alone after this fight. He hated that he let friendship slip from his hands with bitter words falling from his mouth.

Chanyeol's head fell on his chest and long sigh escaped his mouth trapping itself between Baekhyun's shouts. He knew his best friend too well to believe that everything will be fine with just 'sorry'.

Baekhyun couldn't care less about his behavior right now because boiling feeling wanted release. So he took the only person he had for target of shouts and too strong words. He hated his father the most and he was source of all his problems but he couldn't yell at him.

"I have nothing and you know that. I had that one dream. I had your promise for so many years. I lost everyone and everything because of that man. I thought that i can't lose you too. Bur I was wrong." histeric laught left his throath in attemt of stoping the tears and screams.
At this moment he could see all pieces of his life falling apart leaving his sould dry and empty.

"You will lose me because of yourself and your damn pride." chanyeol shouted back not being able to hold back his growing anger.

After those words Baekhyun unintentionaly laughed beacause he suddenly remembered the girl's words. Maybe his  pride will kill him one day. Today it will leave him without a  friend.

"At least I don't give false promises."

"Not to me. But you lied to someone else."

"That doesn't count. She knew everything from the start."

"I know."Chanyeol sighed heavily, suddenly cooling his anger with painful memories and lingering regret.

He sat down into comfort of his favorite archair and took great sip of his beer. Emty can flew to floor. Baekhyun just glared at him because of his reckless act that destroyed his clean floor.

"She is coming back tonight." Chanyeol's voice echoied in cold room full of sunlight that couldn't warm up tha ice cold atmosphere. Baekhyun's heart skiped a beat at his words.

Flashbacks of past happenings flew through his head making his vision blurr for a moment and his throath became dry suddenly. He felt that he's hot ready to confront someone he hurt badly and hurt himself that way too.

Those acts made him ask himself if he is capable to love,once.

Is he able to give comfort and shoulder to cry on?

Is he able to give warmth and happiness?

The person that made him ask all those questions is back.
Chanyeol must be destroyed inside.

"Go meet with her."

"No way. I swore that I won't see her again."

"Forgive."

"Says who."the other snorted and laughd bittrerly.

The beer was running out as the converssation was becoming heavier and heavier.

"You're a better man than I am."

These words left his mouth unintenrionly and so sincerely that he wasn't sorry because of them. He wanted fo say that to him all his life so maybe he could sat that now when their friendship is goibg to end.

"Forgive her . I can't forgive you. You know me."

"I know you very well unfortunately."

He stood up and shifted his big body towards the door.

Baekhyun knew that this is the end. Chanyeol will never come back again to ask for forgiveness and he will never go to him because he is too stubborn and proud to go against his words. The enormous pain creeped into his heart as his friend(he will forever be) started walking around his room maybe trying to remember the place where he used to hide from all burdens he carried.

"New ones?" he asked as pieces of paper setled between his fingers.

Something cut Baekhyn's stonach in half and he ran to the place like a lightning in fear that the other could read his soul.

Chanyeol read his expression and fear in his eyes so he let the paper fall on the clean surface of table making the annoying mess. Baek's eyes followed the paper than stopped on Chanyeol's eyes noticing the pleading gaze and slight anger. Disapointment. Pain.

"They're worthless anyway."

"Don't you dare to stop writing. My company didn't piblish them, not because they're bad but because my boss is dumb. And I am an idiot. I shouldn't come at all."

"You shouldn't come. Farewell."

With strong pain,lingering in the hall's cold air,in darkness of carelessly non turned light Baekhyun's words hit the wall and echoed like shout although it was a whisper.

"Goodbye Baek."he smiled and closed the door leaving Baekhyun strong for a moment and then shatered on the floor. Pieces of tears falling on someone else's tee,mouth painfily stopping the sob.

He is finally alone. Completely alone in this world. Without friends and parents he felt free but caged in his own guilt and hatred. He hated himself for being himslef.

The noon was near when his numb body left the cold tiles in the hall and led him to the bathroom.

Maybe the hot water and nice smelling foam could wash away all his pain.

Maybe new words could erase those that are said. But he depended on those words from the start of his life.
He knew that words are worthless and that beyond them is the true meaning of his feeling.

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It's so lame that I wanna cry...