When Jongdae came into the coffee shop for the first time in days, he was surprised to see it filled. It was 7AM, and there was no way it would be packed. This place was in the middle of nowhere, and yet it was a full house. Aimless chatter could be heard as he entered the coffee shop, and he wasn't used to it. At 7AM, there was usually saxophone playing and coffee machine whirring.

There was still a bandage on his arm from the IV drop, and it was almost impossible to ignore that the hospital bracelet on his arm too. He got out of the hospital two days ago, and he was already running around doing things. When he tried to approach the counter, people started standing on the table, stopping him. When he heard someone’s voice from the left of him, he turned.

“O Captain, my Captain.”

Doojoon was the very first person to stand up. His high school friend, who saw him in the worst places. Who was there when he shouted from the rooftops, and knew all the misery in his life before he got to the university. He stood on a table with a smirk and his arms crossed. It was almost intimidating to see him like this because he had as amusing stories as he did. Friends who shouted from the rooftops and told stories about stealing condoms from a quick mart. With a confused look, Jongdae nodded his head at him. He knew what this was a reference to, but there was no way that this was happening right in front of him. It was just a coincidence. As he took another step forward, a voice from the right shouted.

“O Captain, my Captain.”

Jung Wheein, a girl he still stayed in contact since the party was standing on the table across the room. She was the sweetest girl he ever met, and he still went up to see her from time to time so she could talk about her worries, talk about her life, talk about anything and everything. He was there to listen. Or, if he was lucky, she’d kiss him and things would be alright. Again, confused, he took a step back and nodded. His hands were wrapping themselves around his wrists, insecure about what was going around him.

“O Captain, my Captain.”

Jeonghan sat on the counter, too fabulous to really stand, but he smirked at him. He had no idea why freshmen were so attracted to him, but Jeonghan always made sure he was happy to see him. He always flirted with him back when he did so, and even though his hair was blonde, and he liked his long hair better, it was still sweet to see him giving him a smirk, and trying to learn his ways of being a casanova. Jeonghan was one of his favorite freshmen because he gave no s, and Jongdae continued to see such beauty in him too.

“Okay, pretty boy, I’m going to need you to make my order, so get the off the counter and-”

"O Captain, my Captain."

And then above him, there were Sandara and Chanyeol, waving down at him, shouting the same thing. So confused, so amazed, he was waiting to turn around and bail. This was not going to be a Dead Poets Society moment in his life at all. No, he did not need this at 7:13AM. What was this kindness, and why was it here in front of him? It was strange, Chanyeol and Sandara only had one interaction with him, and that was on Valentine’s Day. Sandara talked to him at 7AM that morning, and Chanyeol was nervously texting him throughout the day. Yet, they were standing on tables from upstairs, not afraid of the downfall. Why were they even here?

As he ascended those red stairs once more, he saw Yixing and Baekhyun sitting at the same table from the very beginning. Pointing out the black book on the table, there were items that were checked off, some crossed off, and as he looked down at #22, he couldn’t help but smile. He picked up the book and the two of them stood on the chairs they’ve gotten to know better throughout the year.

“O Captain, my Captain.”

Looking at them, he walked towards the balcony, staring at everyone in the building. He realized now that it wasn't just strangers, but people he spent his mornings with when he came to get coffee. They were people he had classes with and still talked to after the quarter over. They were people he came to love over the year. It was like that, every single person he managed to meet this year was standing on a table thinking he was a Mr. Keatings. As he looked down at the door he entered every single day, he saw Jonghyun with his arms crossed, appearing like a ghost once more in front of him. Was this what it was like to be loved? To impact someone’s life? Did he know that feeling too? He saluted the man below, the reason why he was still alive that day. Jonghyun may not have been the reason why he lived every day, and he may not have been the person who made all this happened, but he was still someone important to the creation of this bucket list. As he turned back to his best friends, they wrapped their whole bodies around him, surrounding him with warmness and kindness.

“We are so proud of you.”

The warmth from their hugs made everything better, and everyone else got off that table to hug him too. And maybe there was a reason why they existed in his life, maybe there was a reason why he was on this Earth. He was still trying to figure it out. But until that day, he never thought he meant something to anyone. He was surrounded by people who he never thought he could impact.

Jongdae was not a crier, but as he pulled away, he teared up, surprised by the kindness from everyone in the room. Surprised that this item would be one of the last items finished on the list, and as he stood there, he exhaled for first time in what felt like months. This was just the beginning, and he was so amazed to have people in his life to make life worth living. This was the first time he felt so loved and supported that he had to cry. How was it possible to make someone feel like this?

“O Captain, my Captain!” Jonghyun shouted from where he was.

As he looked over the balcony one more time, he shouted back, “O Captain, my Captain!” This was just the beginning. It was the first step to recovery, having people like them in his life to help him remember that life was worth living. Maybe, just maybe, he could be worth something.