It was raining.

The clear beads rolled down the windows at varying paces, leaving a trail that would surely leave a stain once dry.

The world outside was shrouded in mist and fog, a haze so blurred that one would think it was fading.

It was raining.

“Come on, the car’s outside already.”

The voice was muffled but it was there, clear to the ears and so distinguishable. How many times he had heard that voice, he could only wonder. That voice and so many more, in so many tones, on so many days, in so many ways.

He wondered when he would ever hear that voice again.

Through the phone, through a text, in his head, in his dreams, in the videos he captured on his phone, until the voice was no longer recognisable, faded.

“Is everyone there already?”

“Namjoon, that’s the fifth time you asked that question. And for the fifth time, yes, they’re all waiting downstairs.”

He nodded, slowly moving away from the window, and turned around to face his friend. He let out a small smile, a mixed feeling of joy and doubt. “Okay, let’s go.”

The walk to the elevator was slow and quiet. He had walked down this hallway several times, the floors and the walls and the ceiling plastered into his head. Suddenly, the hallway looked new, or rather it would soon be new to him for he would no longer have to live there.

A new life in a calmer, more peaceful town. That’s what he had decided on, and he was relieved to hear the others support him and cheer him on.

“Ah, I’ll miss the ding-ding of this elevator…”

Namjoon looked at his friend with pity. He wondered how much longer the other would be able to keep this façade of collectedness. He looked down at his feet, realising that his new shoes were about to get dirty in the rain.

His shoes, and much more.

Namjoon swiftly got into the car with the others, not wanting to stand out in the cold for too long. He let the silence sink in, no words, no murmurs, only their breaths. He wondered if he’d hear them so loud and clear anytime soon.

The car began to move, and his mind wandered too.

He wondered why he was suffering. He made this decision, he discussed it with the others, he knew it was the right time, but somehow it hurt.

When one dedicates their life to a single passion for nearly two decades, one should inevitably feel tired. He hoped to rest up and get back on his feet, only to find out that no amount of rest would spark that fire in him, ever.

He wondered if it was right, if it was okay. Perhaps he would soon regret it, perhaps he would change his mind in a year’s time, a few months even, or maybe just within a week. But it was done.

The decision was made. He had sat down at the big table with his friends, his family. He had looked the manage