It's important to mention that Minseok hated hospitals. The white walls, white sheets, white clothes, white everything. Sometimes a light green or blue colour, too. He hated the scent of the hospital, he didn't care if people referred to it as the scent of cleanliness. He also hated how everyone in a hospital would think they knew everything. Of course, they didn't. No one knew everything.

But Minseok was sure, he knew himself well enough. From all the people in his life, he still knew himself the best. He knew the doctors thought,  he was ungrateful and rude. But that really wasn't the case.

Minseok just didn't care anymore. He knew he was going to die. The first time they had told him, he didn't have much of a reaction. Even though, before all of that, all of this (when he was healthier) - Minseok had been so different. 

He had wondered why no one visited him. Couldn't they at least act like they care? 

Minseok had been friends with everyone in his class and on good terms with everyone he ever met. Yet, if you would have asked whether he had friends, the old Minseok would have thought about it then laughed saying that of course, he had friends. The Minseok now would just sigh and ask how you would define friends before he would look at you again and tell you that, not really, he didn't really have friends.

The nurse stepped in his room,  his roommate looked up from his smartphone.

Zitao was the guy's name. He was Chinese and full of energy. And today he could leave the hospital after one week of staying in it, because he had had an accident in the martial arts course he took. At least that's what Minseok remembered. 

Zitao caught his gaze and Minseok smiled at him, a silent farewell. 

It had always been like this. The old Minseok had been able to go after some time (even if the visits were often), too; the Minseok now had to stay. 

Zitao left the room, together with the nurse, smiling one last time at Minseok before closing the white door.

Minseok wondered how his next roommate would be like and whether he would snore. And of course, how long it would take for the next new roommate again then. How many roommates had it been already? He didn't remember. Not that he needed to, anyway.

Luckily this was a room for two. Minseok had wanted an own room, which he couldn't get because well, he was too poor for that.At least he was lucky enough to get a room only for two. Next door was a room for 4, how noisy.

Minseok looked at the time on his smartphone - time to take his medicine. Mornings would mean Pill 01, Pill 02 and Pill 03. He didn't like how he knew so much about medicaments, so he wouldn't call the medicines he used, by the real name. He poured water in a glass and gulped the three pills down at once. 

He was so tired, and all he did was lay in bed and sometimes wander around the hospital. He didn't have anything better to do anyway. Visits weren't that often - Minseok stopped asking people after a while,