3. It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.

Jaejoong doesn’t think about the past. Doesn’t think of days spent grabbing at dropped change on the street when he sees the growing sum on his paychecks, doesn’t think of the once-familiar feeling of his stomach eating away at itself when he samples exotic foreign foods. Jaejoong keeps his memories locked away and tells himself that some things aren’t worth remembering.

Yunho is obsessed with the past. Despite his valiant efforts to hide it, Jaejoong knows that Yunho’s every action is driven by endless possibilities: what if I’m not good enough, what if I can’t last, what if I lose everything, what if, what if, what if. Jaejoong sees it in the smallest things: when Yunho falters just so under the eyes of top executives or from the disappointment or scorn or apathy in their manager’s face, day after day, until Yunho can’t even look at old pictures of Jaejoong and himself (sickly pale skin, skeleton-thin outlines) without vomiting and he is convinced he is going mad.

“It’s okay,” Jaejoong murmurs and holds him as delicately as he can; brushes hair away from sweat-stained skin and sleep-deprived eyes. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”