Sixty Seconds

I don't know how I felt when I was told that I was only going to live for five more years. Maybe I was angry at first. After all, it didn't seem fair, me, a 19 year old guy was told that he was barely going to make it to his mid-20s. I had dreams, just like the next youth. I wanted to change the world even. And now, because of a tumor in my head, that wasn't going to happen. I was in spite first, if I was completely honest. I never believed in a God, but I felt myself praying in the doctor's office as soon as he told me my diagnosis. If there was a God, would he be so cruel?

I suppose I was most likely sad next -- I wasn't able to live old and sit in front of my apartment with my withered yet still beautiful wife as we rocked in our chairs and looked on at our grandchildren playing in front of us.

I never thought that this would have happened to me. I thought this was reserved for the special cases -- those who were going to make an impact in the world or drastically change someone's life. Me, I was always aiming to be normal - average. My biggest (realistic) goal was to graduate out of college, get a nice-paying job, find a beautiful and amazing girl and settle down. I had no thirst for popularity nor for money. My desire for those fifteen minutes disappeared when I was the same age.

It seemed unfair. I didn't want much -- I just wanted to live. And God wasn't even giving me that.

*                *                *

"Do you need help, Luhan?" Someone had asked me as I walked down the hall to my morning class. 

I shook my head politely and snorted as soon as the person ran in front of me. I didn't know who he was for I never talked to him before. I snorted again at the insincerity behind his voice. He didn't really want to help me -- he asked but hoped I refused. He did it out of pity and obligation instead of geniune concern.

When I walked in the halls of my college now, the students parted themselves as if I had some sort of disease. As if I was dirty. Having this tumor inside my head was the basis of my ostracization. I never understood why simply knowing when your clock stops ticking makes you different from everyone else. I suppose it was the idea that it was simply knowing something that you weren't supposed to know in the first place.

I snorted at the irony. I had a tumor but it made me think more about the hypocrisy of everyone and the irony of life.

I trudged on. The white walls seemed endless.

*               *                *

When I first told Yixing about my condition, he thought it was an April Fool's joke. I don't blame him, since I told him on April 3rd and my past as a pratical joker didn't help either. 

Though, when he finally realized from the lack of a joking tone to the heavy seriousness the conversation, he broke and fell to his knees. I haven't seen him like this from when he first found out that his father had ran away with a mistress at the age of 7. I could see the tears running down his face, splashing on the wooden tiles of my living room.

The walls that I held up for so long, staying strong for my family, keeping bits and pieces of what manly pride I had left, came crashing down the moment Yixing's first tear fell.

I ended up crying with him.

*               *               *

"Happy Birthday!!" Yixing yelled in my ear at a rather uncomfortable decibel which caused me to push him away playfully. I grinned at the cake that he had placed in my lap, complete with 20 candles. "MAKE A WISH!" He yelled again.

"I'm getting there!" I retorted in frustration. I closed my eyes for what seemed like a moment before opening them and blowing with all my might. I ended up missing three candles though, on the first try. I managed to blow them out after glaring at Yixing for laughing at my first failed attempt.

"I know it might not mean much, especially with evething going on," Yixing blabbered, "But I got you tickets to the 2018 FIFA World Cup. They're being held in the summer in Russia! They were a to buy, let me just tell you that. I had to take o--"

I didn't hear what he said next because I just tackled him out of sheer happiness.

I wish for many returns of this day.

*               *               *

"You didn't give me a birthday present?!" Yixing yelled at the top of his lungs, "HOW DARE YOU. I AM NOT GOING TO TALK TO YOU FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

I grinned, unable to keep up my act any longer. Kris, an exchange student from Canada, snickered in the background with a year younger Zitao. "Do you really think I wouldn't get you a present? Please, its nice to know you have such confidence in me." I grinned as I pointed to a rather large present that I bribed Kris into hiding with his rather large body.

Yixing scrambled out of the couch and ripped apart the wrapping paper, "Sweet~~!" He cried as he ran his hands over the new guitar, "You got me this?! No way, I looked it up on the internet. They're sold out!"

I flipped my hair, in a very charismatic way, "I'm awesome, so I happened to get my ha--" 

I didn't get to finish my sentence because I was tackled to the ground.

*               *               *

Christmas was a rather lonely day -- Yixing was away with his family back in Chengdu. He's most likely going to stay there until after the New Year's are over. Zitao and Kris are both with their girlfriends. Most likely basking in the season of love. What bastards.

I walked down the streets of Beijing, the city lights were unimaginably bright and happy. As I was walking to a nearby coffee shop, I noticied a gray cat cowering in the cold. I walked slowly over.

"Hi," I cooed, "Are you lonely too?"

The cat seemed as if it almost nodded at me.

*               *               *

I had to be admitted to the hospital on the day of my 21st birthday. I was grumpy, to say the least. I personally felt like my health was fine but the doctor said that according to my blood tests, it seemed as if I had a rather low heartbeat. Not to the point it was life-threathening, he had assured me, but he recommended that as precaution, it would be better if I was admitted into the hospital for at least a week.

So here I was sitting in my room trying to pack the necessary items when Yixing burst into my room, holding up a makeshift cake of chocopies with 21 candles. He apologized quickly, "You mom just told me that you were admitted. I thought we could go outside tonight for your birthday, so I made this rather quickly."

I grinned, nevertheless, and set my toothbrush and toothpaste in my bag before making a wish and attempting to blow out the candles.

I missed two.

I wish for many returns of our time together.

​*               *               *

"Can you please stop laughing?!" I growled as Yixing howled with laughter, even to the point of clutching his stomach and almost rolling on the floor if it wasn't for the fact that the hospital tiles were rather dirty and unsanitary. "I know this looks ridiculous," I grumbled as I crossed my arms in my own self-consciousness.

Yixing panted, "Sorry, but it just looks so weird. I'm just so used to seeing you with long bangs."

I said nothing and continued to grumble. Yixing happened to change the subject and we ended up debating who was going to take the championships at the FIFA and gossiping about our college classmates. My mind wasn't completely off the fact that I was bald though. I knew it was for my own good. But it didn't stop me from being self-conscious about it. Yixing left early that day, saying that he had a huge exam he needed to study for.

The next day, Yixing came in bald and I laughed for 40 minutes straight.

​*               *               *

The chemotherapy wasn't working as well as the doctors had hoped and in return, I began to grow weaker and weaker. I rarely had an appetite anymore so I ended up losing 10 kilograms from the lack of food that I was eating. 

I ended up taking a long walk with my IV drip in tow as I walked down the hallway.

"The chemo isn't benefitting him at all." I heard my doctor's voice on the other side of the hallway. I stopped and retacted my steps so that he wouldn't be able to notice me. "In fact, I think its making him worse. I think we made a mistake, it seems as if he's going to pass earlier than we expected."

"It's so sad," the nurse with him commented, "What a handsome young boy, no doubt he would've had a fantastic time in his twenties."

I stopped listening at this point. Instead I crumpled to the ground.

The tears wouldn't even come out.

​*               *               *

The doctors had permitted me to leave the hospital one day in March. I called Yixing right away and we ended up walking around Beijing with matching beanies. We spent the entire afternoon eating on the streets, commenting on certain girls as they walked past us and gossiping about the couple bickering in front of us as we sipped our bubble tea.

"You must be getting better," Yixing commented as we both entered my hospital room. "They're letting you out more."

I smiled and at first the words wouldn't come out. I shook my head slightly and forced my throat to say the words that I dreaded but I couldn't. "Yes, I am getting better. So you shouldn't worry anymore."

"Good!" Yixing grinned, "You can't miss the FIFA. Do you think that they would let you go? It might be taxing but you have been getting better!"

"Maybe," I smiled back.

I couldn't tell Yixing the truth because I didn't want him to despair. I wanted him to continue laughing and smiling and singing those songs that he loved to sing.

I couldn't tell Yixing the truth because I was a coward.

​*               *               *

On my 22nd birthday, the entire hospital staff had walked in and congratulated me on my 22nd years. I grinned as they brought in a huge tiramisu cake compete with 22 candles. I had only missed one.

Yixing wasn't there. Apparently, he had a job interview that couldn't be missed. He had texted me his apologies and said that he would come in the next day, on the 21st, with chocopies.

I had told him that it was okay.

The tiramisu, though usually delicious, seemed to be missing something that day. It was heavier than usual and not as sweet as I remembered.

I wish that Yixing was here.

​*               *               *

I knew I was going to die.

People say that you have this weird premonition before you die, where your life sort of flashes before your very eyes. And I suppose it did. What was weird was that everything lasted about a minute long before switching to my next memories.

It was sort of ironic, because for those sixty seconds, I wished for another second happening of that memory. Even for those terrible memories like when I told Yixing about my condition and when the doctors talked about me, because it meant that I was still alive. Regardless if I felt pain or sheer happiness like when Yixing gave me those FIFA tickets, the fact that I felt during those times meant that I was alive. And wished for seconds on those memories.

It's also weird -- right before you die, you're in this sense of clarity and alertness which may seem counter-intuitive. I stared at Yixing, in his tear-filled eyes and used my last breath to whisper, "Live well, Yixing."

Closing my eyes never felt so good.

Epilouge

A five year old boy clutched his father's hand tightly as he lead the younger boy into a beautiful, scenic area with multiple daisies.

"Daddy," The boy had asked hesitantly, "What are we doing in a cementary?"

The father smiled softly back as he picked up his little boy by the armpits, kissed his child's cheek and replied, "I'm introducing you to an old friend."

Lu Han

(4.20.1996 - 5.16.2018)

To clear up any confusion, the Luhan in this fic was born 6 years after the real Luhan and is set in the future. Luhan first is diagnosed on 3.27.2015 and the story contains random snapshots of his life from 3.27.2015 to 5.16.2018. And yes, if you guys are wondering, he missed the 2018 FIFA World Cup.