To the past me, the new me and the people who deny living.    The rain doesn’t usually scare me but, tonight, it keeps me awake.    I hear a sudden scream but I know it's not from here, not in this hospital, and it's definitely not mine.
   Brian snorts at the sight of me and bursts to laughter, which sounds more like he is inhaling rather than having air coming out of him. He doesn’t stop even when I’m frowning, a look of uncommon seriousness on my face. After a while, the inside joke gets me and I let out a chuckle which only transforms into heavy laughter.    A nurse comes in, harshly stepping on her heels. “Shh!”    Brian and I instantly shut ourselves up and we look at each other once she leaves. Raising his shoulders, he shuffles to sit at the chair beside me. There are still giggles under his breath as he says, “I can’t believe how bad of a dancer you are.”    He pinches the bridge of his nose, his body shaking like a volcano that is about to erupt, but his type of volcano is one that leaks bubbles instead of lava, and I grin. “I can't believe it myself! Remind me not to dance on stage ever again.”    “Remind me to remind you not to try that again,” he says before another breathy laugh comes out of that white smile of his.    Warmth finds its way to my cheeks as the embarrassment catches me. I don’t think I will need any sort of reminder; I will forever be afraid of dancing – I'm not even sure if what I did is called dancing – due to the accident of falling off stage two nights ago. Thank God that I didn't break my guitar. It’s enough that I've broken a leg, you know.    “Can you imagine how ridiculous the news would sound?” he asks and then, prepares a News reporter voice inside him as he announces: “Day6 member, Jae, breaks leg due to dancing error.”    I continue with a more hyped-up commenter voice, “Day6’s Jae can definitely dance you to the hospital!”     He’s laughing way too loud now.    “Blame Sungjin for telling me to ‘break a leg’ that night,” I jest again. Brian gives me a soft punch on the arm, a broad smile that covers his giggles. “What? It’s true! He says it with that rare, sadistic grin of his.”    “Stop! Doesn’t it hurt if you laugh too much?”    “You should ask that to yourself!” I roll my eyes, a smirk as a response while he breathes in, trying to compose himself. Finally, a moment of silence lives between us until I break it. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”    For a few seconds, he stares at me with so much tenderness in his eyes that ends as soon as he finds himself blushing. “Oh, come on. It’s normal for someone to pay a friend a visit.”    “Especially when that friend is in the hospital.”    “Especially when that friend had broken his leg for his horrible dance moves.”     I chuckle. “Especially that.”    Brian looks away from me and pays attention to the room we’re in. There’s nothing much to look at other than the plain blue wallpaper, the bathroom, the cupboards, the drawers, the window that overlooks the tall buildings of Seoul, the few clothes will last me a week, my music notes, my phone charger, and my wallet. My manager brought me what he assumes the important stuff. It’s not that I’m not cool with it, it just makes me wonder what my mother would have packed for me. She’s the type to worry a lot, my mother.    “Have you been eating well?” Brian suddenly asks.    I move a little closer to him, my leg still in its cast. “No. Nope. Nu-uh.”    “Why?”    “Everything tastes like medicine here!”    “Well, after all, this is a hospital. Everything should be preferable for your medical healthcare, including your meals. You should be grateful that they’ve provided these things for your health.” He tells me this which is irritating since I had expected more from him. I give him a distasteful look and he shrugs. “What do you expect?”    “My expectations of the hospital or of you?”    “Neither. Never mind.”    “I expect you to feed me.”    There’s hesitancy in his eyes as he stares at me. When I stare back with my best puppy eyes, his neck flushes, and the redness is creeping up to his face. Then, he offers, “I’ll take you to the canteen. How about that?”


   Brian had grabbed a wheelchair for me and as soon as we succeeded in getting my on it, he immediately takes me to the ground floor to the hospital’s canteen area. Open to the blue sky and fresh air, trees and benches decorate the place. The sunlig