𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄? // 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

𝟎𝟏𝟏

Jake lay on his bed, trapped in a vortex of thoughts that spiraled ever deeper into despair. The exhaustion clung to him, but sleep felt like a distant fantasy, out of reach despite his overwhelming need for rest. Instead, his mind replayed every moment with Sunghoon like a broken record, each memory cutting deeper than the last.

He buried his face in his pillow, the familiar scent a painful reminder of the nights they had spent wrapped in each other's arms, whispering dreams into the darkness. "Why did it have to change?" he whispered to the empty room, his voice breaking. The silence answered him with an echo of his loneliness, amplifying the ache in his heart.

The hours dragged on, and Jake found himself staring at his phone, the screen dimly lit in the otherwise dark room. He had half a mind to reach out to Sunghoon, to beg him to reconsider, to come back to him. But a deeper fear held him back: what if Sunghoon was happier without him? What if this was truly for the best? The thought twisted painfully in his gut, a mixture of anger and heartbreak that left him feeling nauseous.

With trembling hands, he scrolled through their messages. Every text, every shared meme, every "I love you" felt like a dagger. They had shared so much, and now it was all tainted by the finality of their breakup. How could Sunghoon just walk away from everything they had built?

"Maybe I wasn't enough," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Maybe I pushed him away." The self-recrimination cut deep, and he felt the sting of tears pooling in his eyes again. It felt like a relentless cycle-crying over memories, feeling anger, and then spiraling back into sadness.

He threw his phone across the room, the device landing with a soft thud against the wall. "I can't do this," he said, his voice thick with frustration. "I can't keep pretending."

But pretending was all he had left. He knew he needed to show up for his classes, to put on the mask that everything was fine, even as he felt like he was crumbling inside. He hated this feeling of powerlessness, of being at the mercy of Sunghoon's decision. How could he feel so deeply for someone who had seemingly moved on so easily?

The door creaked open, and in walked Heeseung, a concerned expression etched on his face. "Jake, I-"

"I'm fine!" Jake snapped, cutting him off before the words could fully leave his mouth. Heeseung flinched at the sharpness of his tone, and immediately regret washed over Jake. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Jake," Heeseung said, his voice steady yet soft. "You're clearly not fine. You look exhausted. I know you're hurting, and it's okay to admit it."

The empathy in Heeseung's eyes pierced through Jake's carefully constructed façade. "I just... I don't want to talk about it," he replied, frustration creeping into his voice. The words felt like a lifeline he wanted to grasp, but the fear of vulnerability held him back.

"Not talking about it won't make it go away," Heeseung insisted, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. "You need to let it out, man. Bottling it up is only going to make it worse."

Jake let out a harsh laugh, bitter and devoid of humor. "You think I can just talk about it like it's nothing? Like it doesn't tear me apart every single day?" His voice rose again, anger bubbling over. "Sunghoon was everything to me! And now he's gone! I'm left with this empty shell of what used to be-"

"Then let me help you!" Heeseung interrupted, stepping forward. "You're not alone in this. You have friends who care about you. You don't have to pretend everything is okay when it clearly isn't."

Jake's chest tightened, the reality of his loneliness hitting him like a freight train. "But what if they don't understand? What if they think I'm weak? What if I can't handle it?"

"Being vulnerable doesn't make you weak," Heeseung said, his voice firm yet soothing. "It takes strength to admit when you're hurting. You're human, Jake. It's okay to feel lost."

Jake's resolve wavered, and for the first time, he felt the cracks in his façade begin to splinter. "I just..." He took a deep breath, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill. "I feel like I'm not enough. Like I couldn't keep him. I thought we were solid, but now... now it feels like everything is falling apart."

"Sunghoon's decision doesn't define your worth," Heeseung said softly. "You are so much more than this heartbreak. You deserve to be loved and valued for who you are, and if he can't see that, it's his loss."

The words lingered in the air, a glimmer of hope shining through the fog of despair. But Jake couldn't shake the nagging doubt that clung to him. "What if I'm just not cut out for love? What if I can't ever feel that way again?"

Heeseung stepped closer, a reassuring presence. "You will. It's going to take time, and it's going to hurt like hell, but you'll get through this. Just don't shut us out. We're here for you, even when you feel like you don't deserve it."

Jake felt the warmth of Heeseung's words wrap around him, the comfort of friendship seeping into the cracks of his heart. "Thanks," he managed to say, though it felt inadequate compared to the depth of what he felt.

"You don't have to thank me. Just take care of yourself," Heeseung said, giving Jake a supportive nod before turning to leave. "And remember, I'm just a text away if you need me."

As the door clicked shut, Jake lay back on his bed, the heaviness of his heart still present, but now mixed with a sliver of understanding. It was okay to hurt, to feel broken; it was okay to grieve the loss of love.

With each passing moment, the pain felt a little more manageable, though the ache of Sunghoon's absence would linger for a while. Jake curled up in his blanket, allowing the tears to flow freely, releasing the pent-up emotions he had been holding inside for far too long.

It was a small step, but for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of hope beneath the layers of anguish. Healing wouldn't happen overnight, but perhaps he didn't have to face it all alone. He could lean on his friends, let them support him as he navigated this storm.

As he drifted off to sleep, exhaustion finally overtaking him, he whispered softly into the void, "I'll be okay. I'll find a way." Even as the words slipped from his lips, he believed them, if only just a little.