He serves a steaming cup of tea on the table for me.

Jackson eyes me from top to bottom before looking away in pain.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, clenching his fists.

“Criminals,” I reply plainly. He gazes into my eyes and I feel warmth starting to bubble up in me. I break our eye contact, refusing to give in to myself.

“I wish I could have stopped this from happening,” he mutters, regretful. “I wish I could have been there right after this happened. I’m so sorry.”

I scratch my neck awkwardly. It really has been a while since I’ve met him. Since we talked. So many things occurred in between that space of time that somehow, meeting him now feels like we were apart for a century.

“Let me help you from now on.” He leans forward to take my hand in his but I pull back instantly. He is taken aback.

“No,” I refuse determinedly.

“Youngmi, don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not doing this because I’m stubborn, Jackson,” I explain, taking a sip of tea. The cup clangs as I place it back on the plate. “I know how famous you are now. I watched you on TV at the hospital. Your songs play when someone’s phone rings. I know you have tours lined up for the next few months. This is the peak of your career, Jackson, and I don’t want to be the one who destroys it.”

“You’re not going to destroy anything,” he attempts to assure me.

“I don’t want to be the one who holds you back – who makes you worry on a bright, sunny day like today,” I insist. I have to tell him. I need him to let me go. I’m not bringing anyone down with me anymore. “What you’ve done has been enough for me…let’s just stay where we’re at right now.”

He just stares at me in disbelief. His expression turns angry so he stands up, facing a painting hanging on the wall instead.

“Jackson, I –”

“That’s enough,” he mutters, throwing a set of keys into my lap. “Just stay here for the night. Or not. Whatever. I’ll come by tomorrow.” He slams the door loudly, leaving me sitting on the couch. I am stunned by his unexpected reaction.

The typically kind Jackson just slammed a door. That has got to be a new record.

I’m about to bring myself out the door but I feel too guilty. I don’t want to leave Jackson with this memory. I wanted us to leave in good terms – as close friends.

With a heavy heart, I turn the door knob before releasing it again.

I’ll stay.

I’ll stay until I get the chance to talk to Jackson tomorrow.

***

“Ugh.” I groan. Cold. It’s so cold. I wrap myself like a sushi into a fluffy blanket. “Oooh.”

This is really comfortable…

Comfortable?!

 I jerk upright in surprise.

I remember now. I’m in Jackson’s place. Well, I’m not exactly sure if it is even his place because we never got to talk about it.

“Wow, you must have smelled the kimchi stew I was making,” Jackson voices out from the corner. I gasp at the sound of his voice. When our eyes meet each other, he adds, “I’m glad you stayed.”

“No,” he stops me before I can say a word. “Let’s eat lunch and then we can talk.”

“Lunch?!” I search for a clock on the wall and my eyes land on one. The hour hand is clearly pointing at 3 o’clock. Glancing out of the window, the sun rays shine in but I’m unable to determine if it’s just rising or setting. “I overslept…” I shake my head in incredulity.

“That blanket is expensive. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t oversleep,” he comments with a chuckle. He looks much more positive today. He disappears out the room for a moment and comes back in carrying a tray with two bowls of hot kimchi stew. He points his head towards the corner table.

“Aren’t you going to serve it on the bed? That’s how it should be!” I exclaim, pretending to be aghast. “It’s not romantic if it’s not on the bed.”

“Come on, Youngmi,” he sighs when I remain on the bed even once he settles himself at the side. “Those blankets are pretty expensive. We’ll do some romance later on the bed without the kimchi stew.” He adds a wink after his suggestive comment.

I choke on my own saliva.

He laughs out loud seeing my reaction. “You know what, if you don’t come down now, I’m gonna be finishing both bowls…”

I stumble out of the bed so quickly, I almost smashed my face onto a wall, forgetting that I have a handicapped leg.

***

It’s night now and we’re watching our third movie now.

We’ve been on a movie marathon, safely tucked in his expensive blanket that we both share. I can feel his arm snaking around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

I throw him a suspicious look.

“It’s a horror story,” he says, shrugging. “Just in case you get scared.”

“Pfft.”

“Let me tell you a real horror story,” he says, taking away the remote from my hands before I can press play. “A friendship that turns sour. A friend that becomes a stranger. That’s scary.”

“Are we finally talking about it now?” I ask, wondering when he’ll let me continue yesterday’s conversation. He keeps cutting me off every time I tried to bring it up again.

“I thought about what you said and it’s true. You’re right.” he says, leaning forward so he can see my face clearly. “GOT7 is really famous now. I wouldn’t be able to be around to help all the time. I’m most probably unreachable. I have to go to China tomorrow too so that just confirms it.” He wraps the blanket around my head. “But you’re never holding me back. You’re my close friend so I am allowed to worry about you. Okay, kiddo?” He smiles brightly at me. “Tell me how I can help you.”

I try to think of a rational response, but our distance between each other is close and I can’t help but want to just stay in the moment. I wish I could stay like this forever. Warm. Close to someone who cares.

“I don’t know,” I reply, caught completely off-guard by Jackson again. When will he stop surprising me? “Does it sound stupid if…you…if I ask you…”

“What can I help you with?”

“Can you just hug me for now?” I ask lamely.

Before I know it, I’m enveloped in this amazing place full of sincere love and gratifying warmth.