BEFORE YOU GUYS READ THIS CHAPTER GO BACK AND READ THE LAST CHAPTER CAUSE I CHANGED IT COMPLETELY!!!

I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED ANOTHER CHAPTER FOR ANOTHER STORY!!!

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE!!!

Ji-Eun's POV

The white walls of the hospital remind me of a box.

I'm trapped.

It's been 3 hours.

Dad is still in surgery.

Ryeowook oppa is unusually pale.

Mom is staring blankly into space.

Kai is gripping the sides of the chair, looking at anything but me.

I can't blame him.

The doors slide open, and the doctor steps out.

He looks tired and worn out.

His expression betrays nothing.

Ryeowook oppa springs up.

"My dad?" I call hoarsely.

The doctor tenses.

"I'm sorry."

My mother collapses.

Kai's face drops.

I can see him opening his mouth and saying things.

Things I don't want to hear.

My fault.

Dad died.

He's shaking me, hard.

I'm shivering, bad, even though it's not cold.

Everything is fuzzy.

It's then I register that I'm screaming.

It's then that I register the tears.

It's then that I wake up with a start.

And it's then that I curl up into a ball, my body heaving with sobs.

How long has it been?

10 minutes?

An hour?

I don't know.

The door slams open and oppas rush in.

Kai and Ryeowook.

They talk and lecture for a while.

Then they mostly just hug me.

They've forgotten what happened.

I haven't.

I can't stop thinking.

Sleeping only brings back worse memories.

I look at my phone next to me.

Contemplate.

I pick up the phone.

I call.

No answer.

I should've known.

So I call the next number in my contacts list.

"Hello?"

"Ji-Eun. Finally. I'm so-"

"I don't care. You don't need to be sorry. You did nothing wrong."

"Still."

"You know that lunch you promised to buy me?"

"No. No way."

"I could use a distraction from the two prune shaped bruises on my cheeks."

"...Fine."

"Good. And shortie?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know what Myungsoo oppa's up to? I called him and he won't pick up."

"..."

"Shortie?"

"He's the same age as you, so no oppa. And meet me at the coffee shop in 5."

"No bossing around a patient, shortie. How rude."

Beep.

He has the nerve to hang up on me?

I glare at my phone.

We all know who'll be getting a kick on the shin.

My memories a dull ache at the back of my head, I quietly slip out of my hospital bed and creep out the door.

It'll be a miracle if I manage to get to the coffee shop in 10 minutes, much less 5.

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