in keeping my silence
I've let everyone go

"Alright, this is it. The last leg. We're storming the Lees' base tomorrow, and we're going all out, so if there's any last words anyone wants to say, say them now."

Vernon was standing over the table, knuckles resting against the top, looking around with an ashen face as if daring someone to say something. Scar tissue peeked from the askew neckline of his t-shirt, so white that I could see the skin inside—mottled, bronze and tan, the color of new honey and white gold.

Jinyoung looked up at him over the cracked glass filled to the brim with beer, a smile curling the corner of his lips. "Good pep talk," he said. "Nice touch, the whole last words thing. Implying that we're going to die but not saying it outright."

Vernon gave him a tired glance, looking like a babysitter after being challenged to another game of Uno. There were rings under his eyes, but when he straightened, he still held himself stoic—nothing like the smiling boy I'd met in Seoul three years ago, but a grown man, with growing loads and responsibilities that hung over him like a cloud—and yet, his shoulders remained pulled back with a quiet certainty that made me feel hollow and full at the same time.

The rest of the racers—and the other newbies—were scattered around in the storage room like an assortment of puzzle pieces. The faces they wore showed challenge, a sort of boredom, even, but it didn't take a long glance to see the set fear in their hollow eyes. Junhee was the only one with his head down, sorrow turning the corners of his mouth downwards, looking the hollowest out of all of them.

"Actually, I do have something to say," Taeyong said, raising a hand. "Someone scratched the driver's seat of my car, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't her—" he gestured to me— "since the proof of all the scratching she did is bodily—"

"Damn, what has gotten into you?" Ten asked, turning in his chair to regard him with a delighted yet amazed smile. "I've only heard stories about you, but I'm pretty sure none of them involved whatever this is."

Taeyong opened his mouth to speak, but Yeeun beat him to it. "He's happy," she said, in a tone that betrayed no opinion. She didn't even look up from drink, swishing it around in a coffee mug, boots kicked up to rest on the tires that had been piled to make a table. "Don't you see?"

"We're going to hell, literally, in a few hours, and he's happy," Jaebum muttered, his eyes slitted. He was the only one without a drink.

"Go figure," Lucas said cheerfully.

I hid my smile, looking away. Taeyong caught me eye, and winked. Although it was nice to see him in such high spirits, one word came to my mind whenever I tried to relax: denial. Despite Jaebum's unsurprising pessimistic philosophy, he was right. We were going to die in a few hours. Either that, or come out relatively unharmed and victorious, but the odds didn't seem trustworthy.

"Yes, we probably are," Vernon spoke up, and everyone's eyes turned to him. "Going to hell, I mean. We don't have much time left, that's true, but that's the thing, right? What we don't have time left for. Everything we want to do with the hours we have left, do it now."

"Well," Taehyung said thoughtfully, gazing at Jennie with his chin resting on his knuckles. "I've always wanted to have a hot gang threesome..." Jennie's eyes narrowed, and Taehyung grinned wildly. "But you don't seem to enthusiastic about that."

"We'll see," Jennie said simply, and Taehyung placed a hand on his chest, fingers played open, giving her a look of delighted mock-surprise.

"I actually do want to know something," Ten said. He downed a shot, and leaned forward on his elbows, frowning. "Can we back out, if we don't want to go to hell just yet?"

"That's up to you," Vernon answered. I glanced at him again, and felt a shiver go through me, something close to pride. He was a good leader. Granted, I didn't have a lot to compare him to, but he definitely did a better job than Jungkook. "If you want to leave, you're free to do so. You know what you're getting into, and the clan won't show mercy."

"And then you can live your entire life knowing our blood is on your hands," Taehyung said, then shrugged innocently when everyone looked at him.

"You can leave at night," Vernon said tiredly. "If you don't want to do it now. No one will say anything after."

"Because they'll probably be dead."

"Taehyung."

"Vernon."

"Moving on to more important questions," I said, cutting them off, and Vernon shot me a grateful look. I pointed at Yeeun accusingly, and she raised a single eyebrow in a serenely judgmental arch. "Why did you put sugar on my neck?"

She looked back at me for a few seconds before pointing her thumb over at shoulder at Jennie, who blinked in surprise. "It was her idea."

"It was not," Jennie hissed.

"Whoever's idea it was," Taeyong interceded, "good on you. It tasted nice."

Taehyung flipped out a balisong and traced his fingernail with the tip of the blade, looking wistful. "Sugar on your neck, huh?" he asked. "Seems like I missed out on a lot."

Taeyong's eyes narrowed as he unfolded his legs, reaching towards Taehyung, and Vernon's eyes met mine. He didn't say anything, but raised his eyebrows, almost imperceptibly, and a silent communication passed between us. He straightened, making his way towards the door, and after a moment of worried hesitation, I followed.

He was leaning against the door of the backyard, eyes shaded. The rest of the safe house was dimly lit, but I could see the shadows his eyelashes threw across his cheekbones, long and thin. Dark hair and golden eyes. With that paleness on his face and the thinness of his t-shirt, he looked like a ghost.

I shut the door carefully behind myself and moved towards him, leaning on the wall opposite him. He looked troubled, even more than I felt, looking so lost in thought that I wondered if he had even noticed me enter. Then, suddenly, he shifted, eyes flicking up to mine, and he dropped his arms at his side.

"There haven't been any attacks," he said in a low voice like a murmur, though we both knew there was no way the others could hear us. "They probably know where we are, and they're laying low."

"But that's good, right?" I asked, brow furrowed. He shook his head.

"I checked the reports and sightings, the body count from the collapse of that building," he said. "There's no way to know how many of the guests were buried in there, but there's good reason to think most of the inner circle made it. I think they had a connecting corridor to another building or something, but the whole site is cordoned off so we can't check." He sighed. "I wish I knew who."

"You can't always know," I said soothingly, placing a hand on his shoulder though his words agitated me as much as they agitated him. "All we can do is hope that when we show up at their safe house tomorrow, we won't find much of a resistance. Maybe—maybe that's why they haven't attacked yet. Strength in numbers, and it's possible that they've lost a lot."

He caught my wrist and turned my hand over, kissing the inside of my wrist. A hum went through me, like a live wire buzzing with electricity. "I wish there was some other way."

"I can't run again," I whispered. "Not now, not when I have people to stay for."

Vernon's eyes softened, and he released my hand, stepping away from the door. I blinked as his hand came down to rest on the handle, slowly pushing it downwards, feeling slightly confused. "I know," he said, and there was an off emotion in his voice—hesitation? Guilt? "That's why I hope you won't kill me for this."

He opened the door and pushed me outside. I whirled, eyes wide, opening my mouth to ask him what exactly it was that he was trying to do, but by the time I had gotten over my flurry of confusion, the door had shut firmly behind me.

"Vernon," I hissed, hands on the door, knocking against the wood. "Let me back in—"

"Oh, hell no," said a voice from behind me, and I turned in surprise to see Hyunjin standing in the shadow of a tree, disgust marring his otherwise handsome features like scar lines. "I should've known what was up when he asked me to come down here."

I caught my breath, feeling winded all of a sudden, and leaned against the door. "I wasn't trying to—"

"I know you weren't." His eyes were narrowed, the ends tapering down like the tips of wings. "You wouldn't try."

I felt a burst of anger inside me at that, piled-up words bursting from my mouth before I could stop them. "Oh, come on," I said, infuriated. "I sat outside your door for hours, waiting for you to be able to talk to me, and you still have the nerve to say I wouldn't even try? I know you've got a lot of hate sitting inside you, but it's completely unfair of you to hate me for it. I couldn't help not knowing, and the one thing I can help, you won't let me help with."

His eyes were burning, but the disgust had gone from his features, replaced with fire. "I know that," he hissed. "Don't you think I know that?" I bit my lip, pressing my back against the wall, and he shook his head, slowly. "I know I'm being unfair, but what I need right now is someone to hate, and I know you know what that feels like, so why not give up? Why the hell can't you just give me someone to hate?"

I swallowed, and he exhaled slowly, shutting his eyes and turning away from me. In the moonlight, I could see his chest rise and fall with slow breaths. "I can't give up," I said in a low voice. "Not now that I know what will happen if I do."

Hyunjin looked at me, incredulous, but I pressed on. "I get it," I said, a bitter taste invading my mouth. "You hate me for not being there for you your entire life, and I understand that. I hate me for that, too." I clenched my jaw. "I just don't understand why you won't let me be there for you now that I'm here."

"I don't know," he said bitterly, mouth curling downwards. "Probably because you'll just disappear on me again. Like everyone else has, always."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I opened them, he was looking right at me. "I'm not going to lie to you," I said. He was glaring into my eyes, challenging me to say something that would change his mind, begging me to say it. "I could disappear again. I could disappear tomorrow, or the day after, or years later—but I'll still disappear, one way or another. The only thing I can tell you is losing someone you held at an arm's length isn't going to be any better. Losing family—" I almost choked, memories of my father clogging in throat like tears— "isn't going to hurt any less if you choose to turn away from them, to keep yourself apart. If anything, you'll regret it more that way."

His lips were thin, but his eyes shone with a strange glimmer in the moonlight. "And besides," I said, smiling a little, "I think I'd like it much better if I disappeared knowing I had a brother to whom my disappearance mattered."

Hyunjin bit his lip, trembling slightly. His hands were opening and closing at his sides, and he glanced away from me, blinking hard. "I waited for you for nineteen years," he whispered.

My lips parted. "You—you know about me?"

He gave a little nod, air leaving his lips. "And now you're here," he whispered. One of his hands came away from his side and tugged at the sleeve of the other. The gesture was so innocent and childlike that I felt ropes tighten around my heart, like a noose. "And I don't know what I'm supposed to think."

"You can hate me," I whispered, and he glanced at me, tears glistening on his lashes like stars. "You can think whatever you like, treat me however you want. Just don't hurt yourself because of it." I sniffled. "Despite all, Hyunjin, you're my brother. You're family, and as long as I'm here, I will always have your back."

He blinked, the luminescent droplets in his eyes throwing themselves off, and I took a hesitant step forward. Hyunjin bit the inside of his lip, eyes red, but when I held out my arms—just slightly, like a reflex, the tiniest twitch—he still came into them, and I held on tight, afraid to let go.