I laid on the hard park bench, head swimming with thoughts.
The sound of the leaves made by the slight breeze always calmed me down... but this was different. I couldn't get that text out of my mind. I took out my phone to look at it again—

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
JW
You killed my brother
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

...what a halfwit.
How does a 7-year-old kill and forget about it?

I didn't believe him... but I had a bad feeling in my gut. It surely couldn't hurt to ask someone... right?

Right then; a squirrel stopped in front of me, staring. I looked at it; it definitely had no intention to move. It was shooting me loathsome looks, nose crinkled up.

"Shoo!", I said, attempting to scare him away but he stood stiffer than ever... his nose crinkling more.

That's when I took the hint and decided to clear off... I'm scared of squirrels.

...................................................
"Mom~~", I called in a serious voice.
"What?", she said in an annoyed tone over from the dishwasher.

"I need to ask you something..", I said hesitantly.
"What?", she asked sharply... turning to face me.

I took a deep breath. I definitely couldn't ask something like: Mom, did I kill some whack-job's brother when I was 7?
I had to think more.

"Umm... somehow— did someone die because of me when I was younger?", I asked when a sharp shard of dread in my stomach.

My mom's face had darkened..
"Y/N-ah.. w-why would you think so?..", she stuttered with fake laughter.. a hint of fear dancing in her tone.

It was enough to make me hesitant. That confirmed my fears. Tears were a long way coming, but I felt my cheeks stiffen and had difficulty breathing.

I looked expectantly at my mom... expecting an explanation.

"How did you find out?", she said in a low emotionless voice.. but her tears gave it away. There was some truth in that sketchy story.

"That's not important.", I said with a note of finality.

"Umm.. well.. sit down, dear..", she said.. dragging me over to the couch. She looked hurt too, so I didn't retort. If this was hard for me.. it must have been a hundred times worse on her. After all.. she was the person who had to live with that knowledge for all these years, and keep it hidden from me.. trying to give me another chance at happiness.

I looked at her.. listening intently.
————-—-———————————-
"So— uh.. when you were young.. you had a close friend called Dylan Wang.. he was from China..", she said with a throaty voice.
"He.. wasn't very social.. his family was broken up. His dad lived in China with his older brother.. and he moved to Korea with his mom. It had a huge effect on him...
He locked himself away till you came around. He was sensitive and being friends with you was the only thing he actually had..  he didn't talk much to anyone else.."

I listened closely.. trying to wrack my brain for even a slight memory of him.. I couldn't even tell when warm tears started escaping my dry eyes.

"Then.. one day... you didn't want to be friends with him anymore.. and he didn't take it well.. he fell from the rooftop that day, along with you. So.. you both fell together, but he didn't make it. He died a week later in the hospital where the two of you had been taken", ... at this rate, tears fell from her eyes harder than ever. I was listening with my mouth slightly open.. crying more. It seemed as though she was having flashbacks of our bodies on the hospital beds.

"H-how did we fall?", I asked her in a breathless tone.
"E-everyone said that you pushed him..", she said in a broken voice.. eyes following mine.

I refused to believe it.
"W-why would I push him?! Mom.. w-who said that? Why would everyone believe that I would do so?", I asked in an irritated voice.

She didn't respond. Just stared at me..

People thought that I was capable of that. Everything started falling into place.
I wasn't the person I am.

I shook my head.. stared at my mom again, and ran upstairs to my room and under my sheets; trying to lock out the thoughts. I had zero recollection of everything, and it made things worse.

But somewhere deep down.. I believed that I could be innocent. There was no solid evidence... must have been the reason the law enforcers couldn't get me.

Me pushing Dylan was all a speculation, right?

"Dylan...", the name softly escaped my lips while my tears started falling. "I don't remember him... but I miss him..", I said... mouthing the words in my head. Before I knew it, I cried harder than ever.. picturing the smiling face of a young boy aged seven. My heart beating hard.

Sleep had almost engulfed me, when I heard a song sounding from the crack underneath the door. BTS's 2!3!' .. I smiled to myself.. apparently my brother played it from outside the door, knowing that it would make me feel better. ... it always did. It brought hope... brought certainty.. brought a trustworthy shoulder to lean on. It brought sanity.

He overheard the conversation.. did he know about it?
I fought new tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes. Singing along, I was sure that I was innocent... and that JW was wrong.

I took out my phone from my back pocket.
————————————————————————

Me:
Hey.
Guess what?
I found out about what you meant.
No.. I don't remember ..
But I know you meant Dylan.
You're his older brother..
Who lived in China with Mr. Wang
(seen)
I am innocent.
I didn't push him from
the rooftop that day.
(seen)

JW:
How dare you?
You killed my brother..
and I'll make you pay.
I won't kill your brother..
You don't care about him.

...take care of BTS.

Me:
You know what, you bastard?
You are a stuck up psychopath.
I DID NOT PUSH DYLAN.
And if you cared about your brother,
You wouldn't have abandoned him.
(seen)

-/—-/-/—-/-///-/—-//—-/——///——///——/—

All my patience had run out... but it was the least of my problems.
Right then my phone switched off.. and smoke started coming out of the ends.
Just the way it was with my headphones.

I threw it across the room where it burst into flames, burning angrily.

I sat on my bed, staring at it.
Silent tears fell again... this time out of fear.

The fire alarm rang, but I didn't budge.. as I, an asthmatic sat in the room filled with smoke.

JW wasn't gonna be talked sense into.
I had to protect BTS myself.

"I have to get to Korea...", I said, before rushing out to get the fire extinguisher.

//////////////////////////////////:////
(a/n: thanks to everyone who's reading. If you read my previous chapter, you'd know that I had given up on this story... but I recently got motivated to carry on with this story because of a special reader.. I'd like to thank; and dedicate this chapter to him/her..

Purple you!)