March 1, 2011

“Kwon Jiyong-ssi? It’s time to get up.” 

Breathe. 

“Kwon Jiyong-ssi?” 

Stir. 

Letting out a yawn, Jiyong roused and bristled at the unfamiliar female voice. “Who are you?” his voice thick with deep, husky morning tone. Running hand through his disheveled hair, he moved to sit up with the help of unfamiliar hands. 

“I’m your nurse for the moment. My name is Jieun. You will actually be discharged today, so we will take some final diagnostics and get you ready for treatment outside of the hospital, as requested by your family and by your agency.” 

“Where’s Aera?” he asked drowsily. “Aera Shin.” 

Jieun paused, gripping on her clipboard as she stared at the man in front of her. She was still quite starstruck. The celebrity aura, the air that surrounded him, even the man himself—exuded cool, untouchable, a kind of relaxed that’s hard to touch. Having just woken up, he looked like a million bucks despite his disheveled blond hair and unwashed face, which seemed to glow regardless. He was an awe-striking person. Art in its living form. 

“She, she resigned yesterday,” she responded uncomfortably. Over the past two months, Jieun had noticed the growing friendship between Jiyong and Aera. Aera was always the first person he called for, the only person he truly seemed to trust in the hospital. He was cold to a lot of other nurses, but obedient and calm with her.   

“What? Resigned?” alarm laced through his voice as Jiyong furrowed his eyebrows. “Aera resigned?”

“Yeah, she left a resignation letter on her desk and no one has seen her since. The Director has been quiet about it too. Do you,” Jieun paused, looking up from her clipboard at the man in the hospital bed. “Know anything? Perhaps about why she resigned?”

“Uh…” Jiyong trailed off, cocking his head to the side. “Not really. She never mentioned resignation.” 

Jieun shrugged and began looking over his stats, working the monitor. “How strange,” he muttered. 

“Well, we should get going to the diagnostics room. I know you must be anticipating your discharge today,” she said cheerily. “Let’s get you ready.”

A few hours and several tests later, Jiyong was deemed ready to leave the hospital. Youngbae arrived excitedly, and Jiyong could envision the crinkling of his eyes and brilliant white smile. “Hey man,” his voice was cheery, hopeful. “You excited to get back out into the real world?” 

“I’m…” he paused. For the first time in weeks, Jiyong was finally going to get a taste of the real world. Dressed smartly in a blue coat, gray printed shirt and black jeans, he never looked more tasteful. He could feel the sinfully opaque black sunglasses that covered his eyes, cold metal perched on his nose. After months in the hospital, he was coming out at last. G-Dragon was returning at last. 

The emptiness hit him first. As he leant back into his wheelchair, Youngbae tugging his signature fur hat onto his head, Jiyong couldn’t help but feel his stomach drop as he realized this hospital, this room, this very bed—they were all things he would miss. But he would never know what anything in this room looked like, the color of the sheets, the way the light shone into the room—he would never know. He would never know what the faces of other patients were, he would never know the colors of the sky that had passed while he couldn’t see. 

He would never know what a certain nurse looked like. 

Jiyong could only imagine in his head what Aera could have been like in real life. But his envisions were always flawed, blurry images drastically similar to Kiko, with dark blue hair. He couldn’t picture the bridge of her nose, the exact fullness of her lips, or how her eyes crinkled—all he had to remember was a gentle voice and soft fingertips. A sweet smell. It ached to not know who she was. It ached to know that he would leave, and that in the future this hospital stay would lie in a field of forgotten, unretrievable memories. Because there was so little of it that he could grasp, even now. 

“Wait…Bae,”