My trembling right index finger presses against the cream buzzer—I hear it buzz inside, loud and clear. Right behind this wooden door is where BTS eats, sleeps, breathes, lives and poops. I clear my throat and sooth out my hair as I uncover it from the hood of my jacket. My eyes wonder around the entrance, waiting for someone to answer the door but no one does. I ring the buzzer again—twice this time—my finger more confident. No one. Going on my spaz attack, I ring the buzzer—ten times in a row. I hear the inside lock click as the door slowly creaks open. Peeking in, I see a grisly being wrapped in a thick, oversized blanket. Underneath the gray quilted blanket, Rapmon’s slimmed down face reminds me of nothing but a zombie. His face is strangely pale and he has dark dark circles under his swollen and oozing eyes. The white cooling patch he has plastered unto his forehead is slowly peeling off in the corners. He tries to smile but his lips are trembling like an earthquake. In the end, it just falls back down really pitifully.

“Come on in…” The rotten stench exhaling from the inside of his crusty mouth is enough to kill a stampeded of wild raccoons digging through late night trash.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Rapmon,” I have the sleeve of my coat muffling my nose. “My sister just sent over some stuff as a thank you for yesterday…” I say, taking my shoes off and adding it onto the resting mountaintop of the guy’s shoes. He wobbles into the kitchen, bumping into the walls as he does.

“Can I get you-“ *cough* “Water?” He in the dripping snot barely touching his lips.

“I-I’m fine.” I take a step back, realizing this is not that just any sickness. “Please go back into bed.” He’s hovering over the kitchen counter for dear life. “Have you taken your medicine, yet?” I ask, digging through the cabinets for pots and pans. There’s not a lot in the house; it’s pretty vacant except for the basic necessaries.   

“I—“ cough. “No. I’ll be in bed… Let me know if you need anything.” He staggers off, dragging his blanket across the floor. He looks so pitiful like a hairless abandoned puppy on a cold winter’s day like today. I look outside their huge window overlooking the city and the evening lights turning on now. White flurry snow starts to fall as the day starts to darken.

I peek into Rapmon’s room. There are two beds—one on each side of the room; but besides that, there’s really nothing else. Rapmon’s propped up on his bed with headphones on. He’s concentrating on the computer he has on his lap, not noticing me until I fully come into the room. “Can I come in?” I ask, cautiously.

He takes off his headphones and tosses his computer by his side, giving me a smile. “Yeah.” He’s about to get out of his bed to help me with the hot piping soup I have in my hands.

“Stay in bed. I got it.” I say as I walk over. Everything was going fine until my big toe gets caught on a pair of purple socks. The hot piping congee I have on the tray falls out of my hands and goes flying towards Rapmon’s bed.

“Rapmon!!” The gooey white congee splatters all over Rapmon’s stomach and thighs—landing perfectly where you do not want it to.

“OH MY GOD!” Rapmon flails around in bed, trying to cool down his burning crotch. Out of reflex, I grab the toilet paper by his bedside and start wiping the congee off his lap.

 “WH-What are you doing?!” Rapmon’s voice is ragged and he’s twitching his body, backing up a bit for a way of escape.

“Stay still!” I say, pulling his lap back in front of me. I’m on my knees, rapidly going up Rapmon’s thighs—furiously trying to wipe the congee off from burning him. “You need to take your pants off!”

“No. You--! No. I mean--” He’s flustered. I’m now wiping his stomach—feeling the ridges of his abs even underneath his woven pajamas. I could feel myself getting dizzy from the sudden shock of events. Rapmon’s hands clutch onto my shoulders, making me stop. He looks deeply into my eyes. Beads of sweat are pouring down the side of his forehead. The tissues are already damaged by the congee. I use my inner forearm to dab lightly onto Rapmon’s forehead to wipe off the perspiration. “.” he whimpers as he his dehydrated lips, biting unto them slightly. “This might’ve been a very bad idea.” He murmurs under his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Rapmon. I’m going to go--.” I feel my throat close up from the embarrassment I’ve just caused. “Please change your—“ Looking down at the goo of congee on his lap—“pants while I’m gone.” Rapmon grabs my hand just as I’m about to get up.

 “You’re not leaving, right?” His voice is hushed.

“Rapmon—“

“I don’t want to be Rapmon, today. I want to be Namjoon.” I stare at him, wondering what disease could make him act this way.

“I’ll—I’ll be outside.” Everything turns black. Amongst the sudden silence and the pitch darkness, all I could see is Rapmon’s living eyes sparkle even in the darkness, back at me.

“It’s a blackout—“ he says. It feels as if we’re the only two people in the world. “Must be because of the storm.” We look out the window and see a white blizzard, dancing madly outside in the wind.

“I—“ Rapmon squeezes unto my hand, tighter as he gets up from his messy bed. I’m not sure if he did it to calm me down or to support himself getting up but I didn’t mind.

“You’re going to die out there. Stay.” Even in the darkness, I could tell his eyes are pleading for my presence. My breathing grows fuller as the anxiety in my heart grows for that upcoming night.