What if I’m not good enough? He asked himself, the sound of the piano being the only thing that breaks the silence of that room. What if I’m not good enough? He doesn’t know how to play the instrument and yet he tries to play it. He’s not sure about playing it, he’s not sure of anything right now. The pattern is in front of him, he already knows the notes of the song and yet… he’s not playing well. Everything seems to be like that. Maybe he needs some help, but he’s so stubborn that he won’t admit it. Life isn’t supposed to be like this, some piece of shit. Life was supposed to be happy carnivals were you’re having fun with the ones you care about. You’re supposed to be smiling all the time, that’s what he told you back then. You don’t want them to worry about you, because that only makes you feel like a burden to them.
    And you’re falling right now. Your family, your friends, your band mates and the ones who work near you doesn’t know about this. You’re supposed to be smiling all the time, that’s what the voice in your head, is telling you. And you scream, frustrated that nothing seems to go well. Not well at all. Your hands hit the keyboard, you’re mad now; you don’t want to know about yourself anymore. The stress is consuming you and you’re doing nothing to escape from that hell. And now you’re crying, sobbing and praying for happiness. Am I doing this right, dad? You asked to no one in particular, because you’re all alone in that room. Are you proud of me? You ask again, this time you’re staring at the ceiling with sadness.
    You’re not supposed to regret the things you have done in your life, but now… Now you regret the fact that you’re here. You regret the fact of being an artist. You were supposed to be with your father… but because of work you didn’t know anything of his illness. And now you won’t be able to know if he was proud of you or not.

    He hesitated to touch the piano keys; he hesitated because he’s not sure about playing the song. Those sad melodies that surely will make him cry. But… wasn’t he crying right now? What was the difference? He placed his hands on the keyboard; the music began to flow through the air, breaking, again, the silence of the room. The sad melody turned into something special, beautiful yet so sad. Full of emotions. The room was filled with them and a single tear fall from his eye. He was touched by the melody. He was surprised because he was actually playing the piano.
    The song was coming to an end. He wasn’t crying anymore. He didn’t know that there was someone out there listening to that song. He was touched, the same way you were touched, by this song. And that person waited for you outside the room, because he didn’t want to interrupt your art, your song, and your feelings. Because he knew, even if he wasn’t inside the room, that you were crying. This was how you expressed your feelings.
    -Stop being such a child and grow up. –he smiled, closing his eyes. He knew the song was already coming to an end.
    Inside the room, the chocolate haired man touched the last key. The song ended, but he didn’t want to leave the room. He smiled, his eyes now placed on the keys of the piano. Outside, the dark haired boy smiled. He stared the door with expectation, waiting for his lover to come out.
    The door opened, the older man stared at the man sitting on the floor. He let out a chuckle. The man on the floor stretched out his hand for him, inviting him to sit down with him.
    -You were here all the time? –he asked. He seated between his legs. His head now resting on his shoulder.
    You feel a kiss on your cheek.
    -I was. –he answered.
    -Kibum... –you don’t know why, but you don’t know what to say. You know perfectly well that your lover is the only one who always found you in this room. –Why didn’t you come in?
    Kibum know that he always ask the same. He didn’t answer, and the older one knew the answer already so why wait?
    -I love you. –you smiled. You interlink your finger’s with Kibum’s ones. You don’t care about anything right now, except this. –Stop being like this… You know that I will always be here if you need someone to talk about. –he tells you. You closed your eyes.
    -I know. –it’s the only thing you can say. –I really want to depend on you… but I can’t. –you feel his arm around your waist. Another kiss on your head.
    -Just try, Donghae…

    Just try.
    You turn your head and kiss him. He kissed you back, because he wants you to depend on him. He really wants to help you and the only way he can help you right now is: loving you. You’re not always like this, true is that this sadness appear once in a while. You come to this room once a month; you play that piano once a month, the same song you have just played right now. Falling.