Tao POV

A month after World War VII…

I sighed. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to walk around with Lay. He was too happy. He was so optimistic, too optimistic. It annoyed me. When we were almost killed by beasts he smiled and said we were full of good luck. We never got along. Before the war we hardly ever talked. We only saw each other at the dance studio we both went to. He was strange. First of all, he was a well-known doctor; he graduated from Harvard with several qualifications. While he worked he always wore casual attire, ripped jeans, flannels, sweats and casual button ups. Which didn’t match his rep of a prestige doctor. Second of all, he came to the dance studio at the gym I worked at on his free time. He was an amazing dancer too. Though I would never admit that aloud.

“Tao! C’mon time to go!” His cheery voice interrupted my thoughts. My glare darkened. How could he be so happy when everyone is dead?

I didn’t speak to him. Instead I shoved harshly against his shoulder. He stumbled back but his smile lay intact. It didn’t even falter for a moment. An irritable sigh left me as I turned around to stomp down the deserted streets.
 

“You’re going the wrong way!” Lay called out. His voice echoed across the destroyed terrain. I whipped around scowling more than the devil and rushed past Lay, trying my hardest to hide the blood that flushed my face. A joyful chuckle left Lay. I would kill him if we weren’t struggling to survive.

“So have you ever been to Seoul?” He questioned. He always seemed to want to know more about me. I guess he just wants to know how superior he is to me. He probably wants to find more things he knows. .

“A lot. My mentor lived here. I came to train every weekend.” I ignored the pang that hit my heart at the mention of my mentor. He’s alive. He must be. If I survived he must be thriving. He is too strong to die.

“What was he like?”

“He is strong, rough when he trained you. At first he seemed really mean and harsh but after a while I realized he was doing this for my own good. He really cared about me, about everyone that worked at his gym. I was one of his favourites his daughter was the other one. We were both his protégés. His daughter is really pretty and nice, not to mention strong. She’s a lot like her father except she’s not as harsh as her father. She was one of the best at the gym, almost as good as her father. We were close. My mentor was a better father than my biological one so his daughter was like my sister.”

“Was she better than you?”
“Of course, but I was a close second to her. She is insanely fast naturally so she already has advantage. Plus she was basically trained since birth. I’m not trying to make excuses. Even without all that she still has natural talent for fighting, she’s tall, has great focusing and analysing skills and amazing special sense.”

“Sounds like you admire the both of them.”

“I do.”

Silence fell around us. I didn’t dare ask about Lay’s life. I don’t want to hear it. He’s privileged and smart I’m not. He doesn’t need to rub it in.
 

“I wish I met someone like him, someone that cared about me.”

My brows knit together. What does he mean? His rich parents raised him in privilege. I was curious. So curious the question left me before my lips could stop it. “What do you mean?”

“I was an orphan. All my friends-friend actually got adopted. I didn’t. I was a silent kid. I struggled with language.” That’s one thing we have in common. “I kept to my self. I was always playing the single the guitar; it was so badly out of tune but I could still play any song by ear. At the orphanage everyone called me weird because I walked around with toy doctor kit and pretended to heal dolls and animals.” Lay paused a sad smile appearing on his face. “My appa was a doctor…I wanted to be like him. He was the reason I went through med school and tried so hard to become a doctor...It was all for nothing though. I was put up for adoption because he……….…my eomma and left her broke on the streets…She died when I was 7. This” Lay held out his wrist, a single silver chain bracelet wrapped around it. “Is what she gave me on her deathbed. It reminds me to stay happy, like she wanted.”

He smiled despite the fact his life story was horrible. Did he have permanent smiling disease? Is that even a disease?

“Turned out my father was not a great doctor at all. He got put in jail a year ago after he misdiagnosed 233 people with various types of cancer. He was a horrible person and doctor. You know he didn’t even apologize for what he did to my eomma? I ” Tears streamed down his face, he wiped them away hastily. I was in shock. His life…he is the opposite of privileged. He has had a harder life than me. I just assumed he was…I felt bad, really bad. I cursed my conscience. Why now of all times did it act up? Seriously. I don’t want to get all emotional and mushy, especially with Lay of all people. But, like always, my big mouth had to spill my mushy emotions.