Taeyeon's POV: We were back at the dorm after another busy day. I lay lazily on the bed, completely exhausted both mentally and physically. The day had felt so long and the headache was growing in my head. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples, something I've been doing a lot lately. Even after 7 years of schedules, my body still has to get used to the daily grind of fatigue. Coming home day and night after working all day was quite stressful. I had learned to smile through the pain, but no matter how well I mask it, the pain is still evident. Whether he had his back to him or not, he was still there. And he remained there like a shadow. It lingered somewhere in my body, slowly weakening me, until I felt it in places I never knew existed. It ate away every part of my insides, trapping me in an indescribable feeling that I couldn't free myself from and can't free myself from even to this day. Idol life is a bit like air. It is only with you for a certain amount of time and you never know when you can no longer have it. It's something you have to take care of, something one looks for. Sometimes, that's just what a person needs. Something that inspires us. Something that only reaches a few; but for me it's much more than that. They are something I live by. I wake up needing to do it. It's like hating air, but knowing that having it gives you much better things. For air and life, it is the experience. The object that can kill you is the same object that you need to live. It's something like this. Something so deep that I don't think I can dig deep enough to finally understand it. But despite this knowledge, I choose to continue digging. In the middle of the paper I would re-ink things even if I was drunk; I figured it would become a habit I picked up from depression. “Damn you, Jessica Jung.” I murmured and smiled dejectedly. But more than anyone else, damn Kim Taeyeon. "And why?" I heard his voice and looked next to me. I noticed he was standing there with one eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. There were two pictures of him and a blurry background that I could barely make out as our dorm. I was starting to think I was hallucinating. I squinted slightly to see better somehow, but it didn't help much. All in all, I can still notice his frustrated look and I couldn't help but smile and turn back to look at the glass filled with an alcoholic beverage. I laughed to myself like a madman. I wonder how pitiful I look in his eyes.-----------------------------------------------------------