— After Kim broke Chay's heart, Chay's body broke too. After a car accident that almost killed Chay right in front of him, Kim realized he couldn't live without Chay —
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It was as if a bullet shot right through Kim's heart, ending his life within a blink of an eye. Expect that it wasn't his life, not in the right sense of the word. But it was Porchay. Porchay, the boy that was Kim's life, the fresh breath of innocence in Kim's life that Kim didn't remember how something like that felt. Chay was holding Kim's head above the water just by simply being in his life.
Kim didn't realize that he needed that.
That he was so deep into that rotten godforsaken world of blood, violence, lies, and despair. Kim thought that he was out of it, that by moving out the moment he turned eighteen and focusing on his music career instead of the mafia, he thought he was out, free. Even when he started toying with Porchay to get information about Porsche, he still thought that he was out, that what he was doing was just a simple visit to the world where he was born but after that, he would return home and live his peaceful life.
Oh, how wrong can a person be when all they want is to preserve their happiness? Kim had never truly left the rotten world he was born in. His body might have left it but his heart never did. His heart was held in the golden cage, living in the illusion of being free. Too late he realized that his hands were still stained with blood and his soul was still full of dark smoke. Too late he had realized that his toying with Porchay wasn't a toying anymore, that the only thing he was toying with now was his own heart. It was a hazardous game to play. Too late he had realized that letting Chay go was going to hurt both of them.
But he did it anyway.
He did and now his heart wasn't just shattered.
It was dead.
His lips started to tremble. His palms, suddenly too sweaty. His throat had gone dry. His body shaking. The horror from a couple of seconds was playing in front of his eyes in a merciless loop, over and over again.
Porchay, his Porchay with tears stained cheeks, running across the road. Porchay, his Porchay in the last moment freezing in the middle of the road. Porchay, his Porchay falling on the asphalt, his face wearing a grotesquely surprised mask, full of fear and pain behind his eyes. Porchay, his Porchay lying on the asphalt... the red colour... the red... Kim won't call it blood... he won't... he won't... he won't! That red, formed everywhere around Porchay's fragile body. Kim didn't know how he got out of the car or how he ran across the road. All he knew was that suddenly he was there, almost with Porchay. He was yelling and pushing people away, dropping to his knees and taking Chay into his arms, burying his head in between Porchay's neck and shoulder, his trembling hand caressing Chay's bloody cheek over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, angel... I'll stay, I'll stay... I'll do anything you want just please... please, you have to stay too."
A tear fell on Porchay's parted lips as Kim leaned in, pressing a long kiss on his forehead, holding Porchay close to him. "I love you," it slipped through Kim's lips easier than anything ever did before. It felt like the most natural thing in the world; "I lied, Porchay. I'm not sorry. I love you. I will never be sorry for loving you," Kim whispered, "do you hear me, angel? I'll never be sorry for loving you..."
