It had only been a week after she was discharged from the hospital, when she had an unforeseen that sent her back into the hospital and to her grave days later.

Why did you leave me alone? Jiyong thought, clutching a bouquet of flowers for her grave. How could you orphan me like this?

Jiyong’s father had died just a few months before his mother’s condition became critical, and now he found himself suddenly alone in a world where he had just previously had a warm family to return to.

As he stood in front of his mother’s grave, it began to rain. Great, isn’t this what happens in every cliché movie or story? Except in my story, no one is there to drape their jacket on me, Jiyong thought to himself, adding to his list of sorrows. I’m truly alone now, mother. I have no one to turn to anymore…

Sinking to his knees, Jiyong buried his face in his hands, wishing he could follow his parents to heaven.

At some point that night, Jiyong had stumbled back to his apartment he used to share with his parents. Soaked to the bone and shivering from the cold, Jiyong had passed out on his bed before caring to change into dry clothes. He knew he would get sick from it, but he didn’t care. He might as well lose his job too; it would provide some symmetry to his chaotic life.

And just as he predicted, when morning came he was burning with fever and his nose refused to stop running even for a second. Jiyong could care less, though, because if there was one thing he was going to do it would be to fulfill his parents’ wishes: to at least have and continue having a job.

After taking some pills and bundling up in multiple layers of coats, Jiyong set off on foot to his office. Their family was too poor to afford a car, and Jiyong liked it better this way. The numbing cold took his mind off the pathetic life he had, if only for a moment.

He enjoyed seeing his breath puff up in the air, a sign that he was still alive and affecting the area around him. Too often Jiyong had thought about the insignificance of his being, and he would only be able to be comforted by his parents. Too bad they weren’t around anymore to hold him and assure him that someone cared about his existence.

With these cynical thoughts in mind, Jiyong arrived at his workplace – gray and dull, just like his life was. He walked into the elevator like every other day, and rode it up to his cubicle.

How he had landed a job in this place was a miracle even Jiyong couldn’t explain. He had shown interest in fashion design in his college days, and his professor liked him so he recommended Jiyong to this company.

What he did, however, was far from his interest. The only thing Jiyong did was take inventory of all the clothes in each store, stare at numbers on his screen every day and update his managers on the condition of each store.

Boring, Jiyong thought as he sat in his chair and started his routine.

Boring, he thought as his coworkers made fun of him for the umpteenth time for being poor and having to walk to work every morning.

Boring, he thought as his manager threatened him for spacing out and messing up some numbers.

Jiyong looked up at the clock on the wall. 1:30 p.m., it said, and Jiyong cursed it. Why did his day have to be so long? The only thing Jiyong wanted was to go home and lament over his parents in peace. He massaged his temples, hoping it would abate the headache that had been building since the morning. His fever hadn’t gone down either, and Jiyong was on the verge of collapse.

For some inexplicable reason, a flower found its way onto his desk. Jiyong looked up, ready to be taunted by another one of his coworkers. Instead, he found a tall, handsome man that looked around his age. The man had jet-black hair and a strong build, but his most noticeable features were his angled cheeks, framing his perfect face and flaunting his mesmerizing eyes.                                                                           

For a moment, the two men stared at each other, Jiyong frozen in admiration and the man silent in thought.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the man said, breaking the quiet. “I hope you’re holding up okay. You should have stayed home today, you don’t look very well.”

Jiyong stared at the man, at a loss for words. Who is this guy? How did he know that I lost my parents just recently? “Thanks,” was all Jiyong managed to say.

The man proceeded to plop a bag onto Jiyong’s desk with a bottle of water. “Take these, you’ll need it to get through the day. I’ll see you around, Jiyong.” And with that, the mysterious man disappeared.

Jiyong felt his voice die in his throat as he realized he had just lost a potential friend. He didn’t even ask for the man’s name, for goodness sake! Let with no other choice, Jiyong opened the bag and saw bottles worth of medicine for cold and flu. Despite himself, Jiyong giggled. The man was obviously inexperienced in buying medicine, so he probably just swiped everything that said ‘cold’ and ‘flu’ on it. On closer inspection, the bag also contained a simple card. The card said, ‘Get well soon. From your coworker, Choi Seunghyun.’

Choi Seunghyun, Jiyong thought, what a nice name.

And for the first time since his mother was admitted into the hospital, Jiyong felt genuinely happy.