Dragging my pillow with me, I was making my way to the lounge area around midnight. I hadn't slept a wink, knowing Bongcha was in the bed above me plotting something horrible.

I couldn't tell Billie about my fears of sleeping in this room. She would want to protect me from the evil witch and it would only drag her down with me. Bongcha had influence in this competition and despite Billie's popularity, I didn't want to risk my friend's rankings.

Yujin's words still played around in my head. I couldn't block them out.

My brother had not talked about it earlier during our dinner, but I noticed he seemed a little off.

A shadow was lounging on one of the couches. His presence told me who it was and I was not in the mood for that right now.

"Jjingi," he whispered, still covered in semi-darkness.

"Yujin," I replied and sighed before I sat down on the other couch. I was making out his features since my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. His eyes were glued on the pillow clutched in my fists.

I was still exuding all the sadness of the day. My shoulders were hunched in defeat. I couldn't help it. My biggest fear in life was disappointing others, and somehow, with this hatred of me, I felt disappointed in myself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so low, I didn't even hear it the first time.

I turned my head up, making eye contact through the darkness. He was sitting with his head down. He didn't even glance my way. Somehow I felt it, his sadness.

He was on the verge of crying. I shouldn't give him any solace, yet I scooted over. I sat down next to him, staring at his profile. My hands twitched, wanting to reach out and drag my fingers through his hair. I quickly put them under my thighs.

"My mom died last month," He said out of the blue. The words were like bullets, hitting me deep and hard.

"I'm sorry," I answered a beat later, because if anyone understood a loss like that, it was me.

He had been lashing out at me to cope. Things became clearer to me at this very second. The boy was grieving. If anything, I learned this. Sadness has a way of finding other sadness. Like two magnets, they would see each other and be known, and sometimes it was that recognition of it that made you want to run in the opposite way.

"Does it get any better?" he whispered. Tears strained his voice. I slid closer, my shoulder touching his. My brother's words must have hit him more thoroughly than I would have expected.

"It gets different," I answered honestly. "I'm not even a year into it...I might not be the best advice giver about grief."

We sat there in silence for a while. Our shoulders were still touching, staring at our bare feet on that cool tiled floor.

"How did you lose her?" he asked after a while. Needing to know, and I understood that too. There were gradations to this thing.

Had she been sick? Had it been quick?

"She was sick. She was sick for our whole lives," my voice was soft, and tears had not yet formed. Sometimes I could talk about it and not cry. Sometimes I would brush my teeth and think of just a little memory and crash down.

"I have never seen her happy. I often thought it was me, and..-" What I was disclosing here was something I hadn't even talked about with my best friends. Ever. "We have a hereditary heart condition in our family. My brother has it too. He never talks about it, so please don't talk about this to anyone." I shivered.

"She had many surgeries, but what she needed was a heart transplant. One that never came. Her quality of life had not been great for years. Hospital visit, after hospital visit and... hospital bills and the stress that brought with them." The strain on our family.

I saw Yujin's head flash upward and stare at my profile. I could not look him in the eye as I told him this.

"Our little brother found her. One morning she just decided to stop... hurting."

Yujin's hand flashed out and took hold of mine. He took it in his warm palm and squeezed.

"I always thought I was the one who made her unhappy, too," Yujin admitted. "I still do, even when she is gone now. I still think it was me." His voice broke. I couldn't handle it. I grabbed his shoulder and dragged him into a hug. And as he was slowly crying into my neck, I realized something. The pain, the grief, the guilt, everything that came with a suicide, him and I. We understood each other. We were two sides of the same coin with this particular grief.

It snatches you up on lonely nights, and it steals your dreams.

After a while, we let go of each other, yet our palms were still linked.

"Don't sleep on this couch. Trainees are coming and going all night," he squeezed my hand. "I know from experience."

"I'm not sharing your bed tonight, Yujin,"

It remained quiet. I saw his gears turning.

"That night you slept next to me was the only night I didn't dream of her. The only night I felt no pain. We have the elimination performances tomorrow. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, and you have no obligations to me, yet I will ask it anyway." After a long beat of silence he said.

"Please."

"On one condition," I replied. "You and I will work together from now on. No more insults and jabs. No more sneers. We are both still going through a lot; if anything, we should stick together."

His eyes twinkled in the low light, and tears still shone.

"Deal,"