Jaejoong picked up the body from the ground and opened up his car door, settling it gently into his passenger seat. Grabbing a blanket from the back seat, he draped it over him, making sure that his upper body was covered. While the crowd around him started to gasp and make snide comments, Jaejoong rolled his eyes, and took off the boy’s black leather jacket. His eyes were closed, his lips drawn into a tight line, and Jaejoong ran to the driver’s side, starting the engine. He was about to drive to the hospital, which was only minutes away, but the groggy waking of his patient interrupted his plans.

“I’m alive. We don’t have to go back.”

The boy croaked hoarsely, and Jaejoong relaxed. His tense fingers, which were gripping the steering wheel tightly, now lay loose.

“Nice to see you today, Jonghyun. You lie around in parking lots often?”

“. Happened again?”

“Might want to be careful next time. I won’t be there for you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need you to clean up after my . I can handle things by myself.” 

Not like I want to either, Jaejoong thought inwardly. Why he even knew and cared about this irritable boy was incomprehensible to him-though he was the best friend of the girl he liked, it didn’t mean that he had to treat him any nicer than he was now. Sighing, Jaejoong did a shoulder-check and got back on to the highway, deftly avoiding an oncoming car that was speeding. Though he didn’t have much experience with talking to younger males, he decided that it would be best to make some small talk.

“Why’d it happen?”

“No reason.”

Jaejoong smirked. “No reason? Yeah right. You’re sick, aren’t you?”

“Do I look sick to you? Need glasses?”

“Yah, stop being such an . SA, huh?”

Jonghyun head turned.

“What did you say?”

“Spinocerebellar Ataxia.”

“What’s that?” 

Jonghyun’s body was now tense, his arms locked at his sides, while his short reply was calm but terse. His eyes looked out the window, trying their best to avert Jaejoong’s, while Jaejoong gave off a small chuckle. “Don’t pretend that you’re perfectly fine, Jonghyun. You have a degenerative disease that's eating you up daily. You just came from a routine checkup at the hospital, right?”

“No reason to ask when you already know.”

“So, you’re admitting that it’s true?”

Jonghyun was silent, and his hands brushed at his bangs. He took his mp3 player from his pocket, and stuck the earbuds into his ears. A bright neon green colour, he’d remembered that ________ had bought them for him for Christmas-while she used a red pair. Even after five years, she was still using them, though the sound quality . Jonghyun remembered trying to convince her to get new ones, but she’d said that since they were part of a gift to him, she’d use them until they broke.

His heart ached as he thought about it.

“You know, Jonghyun, I know you can still hear me. I know you want to hear what I have to say, because I’m the only person who’s going to be able to save you. I can help you, Jonghyun, I can give you the medical attention that you need.”

Jonghyun ignored him.

“I can give that all to you-I can save you-if only you’d come to America with me.”