The Second Chance of A Suicidal Idol

Producer Troubles (9)

Joon-woo stood in front of his apartment door with a serious expression. Kite was behind it. Kite– who Joon-woo hadn't seen in a week. Kite– who didn't know that Joon-woo wouldn't debut. Kite– who was as suspicious as unknowing.

Joon-woo pushed open the door, letting the small apartment unfold in front of him.

The kitchen, though melded into a kitchen-living-room hybrid, was just as Joon had left it. It was when he locked the multiple locks on his front door and made his way to the bathroom where his nerves spiked.

The mirror was cracked, shattered into a million pieces that were scattered across the floor. Scattered at the base of the bathroom sink-counter was small splatters of blood. Joon-woo gasped, almost falling to the floor as his legs weakened at the heavy sight.

He couldn't see what was in the bowl of the bathroom sink, though that's where the first and larger splatters of blood were visible. He hesitantly took a step into the cramped bathroom, over the shattered mirror pieces, over the blood splats.

Kite was in the sink's bowl. Kite– with his left wing practically skinned and awkwardly bent like it was broken. Kite's neck was awkwardly twisted and its eyes were wide open.

Joon-woo knew this sight from the occasional sight of seeing a dead bird on the street. Kite was dead in his sink. Kite was dead. Dead. Joon-woo's legs lost their ability to stand and he fell square on his butt. His hand scratched up on a piece of mirror but he didn't care. Kite was dead. Dead. Dead.

"W-what..?" Joon-woo stammered, his uncut hand over his mouth.

His phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. He ignored it as it buzzed and buzzed longer than it would if it was just a text message. It was a call. Joon-woo was being called and he narrowed down the callers to the message-bugs that Reggie and Mi Yong were. They had plans to carpool and meet at Bo Jaesang's place to cheer the other up. Was it already time for that? Joon-woo hadn't checked the time in a hot minute.

What did this mean for him? Wasn't Kite his key to death, to these odd timelines?

Joon-woo pushed himself up and stared at his bleeding hand. The mirror shard was deep in his hand, but the pain was tolerable– he had felt worse. His gaze shifted back to Kite's body, but only for a second, the unmoving feathers stilled Joon-woo's thoughts.

He gulped, and made his way to the kitchen sink instead. He washed the blood from his cut and pulled out the mirror shard with just a slight wince. The bleeding would take a while to stop, Joon-woo knew. That's how Ha-rin had gone out, slits along her wrist. That's how she had died and ended up here– in a timeline where Cheerleader, where she never existed.

His phone began to buzz again. Joon-woo shakily picked it up with his non-hurt hand. Mi Yong's caller ID popped up and a call started.

"Hi Joonia-ah~!" Mi Yong playfully greeted over call.

"Hi Hyung..." Joon-woo replied, hoping his voice came out loud enough.

"On our way now! Reggie, Hyunnie, say hi!" Mi Yong practically demanded from the other voices. Reggie and Jung Hyun-Ok greeted Joon-woo from the other end. "We'll be there in like five minutes, okay?"

Joon-woo held his breath at the time reveal. Really, what was he to do? How could he clean up and gather his thoughts and– Kite. What would he even do?

"Joonie-ah, is that okay???" Mi Yong asked again.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine." Joon-woo lied. It wasn't fine. He wasn't fine.

Mi Yong hung up the call and the silence in the apartment returned. It was only silent if you ignored the smokers coughing their lungs out and faint s*x noises a few rooms down. Joon-woo had gotten used to this dangerous area of living.