"Applause yourself for all the good things you've done"

“Rose”

It was the only word that came to her mind after hours and hours of thinking about the song’s title. She had stayed back the previous night, too anxious about the song even though there were more than enough days remaining before the deadline. She paced around, back and forth, in her small little office. She was hoping that there might be a way to change the song, somehow make it a little intriguing, a little senseless. She DID finish writing the song, she DID write the lyrics. Even when she looked at it, it was nice but then at some point it became all imperfect. She read it again, from the first line.

I’m sorry for hurting you.

I’m sorry for being me.

I’m sorry for…..

*this sounds like a sorry song* she thought to herself while heaving a great sigh.

She flipped onto the next page, the next lyrics she wrote.

Dull and death, pains and sufferings.

The only comfort I can give you is beauty.

“I’m such a er at writing. This sounds like a sadist’s song”

She spoke to herself, tearing up the two papers that contained the unsatisfying songs. Either the song was too emotional or too dark, but she needed a perfect balance. Only, if only the great Mr. Kwon was there to help her, then she might not have stayed up late for three days straight.

It was almost time for her appointment with someone and by the time she remembered the appointment, headache and sore eyes had invaded her. The result of staying up late and stressing herself out for a song just because someone decided to ditch the idea of ‘working together’ and completely vanished from YG Building.

Quickly opening her middle drawer, she flipped out her savior, a silver bottle containing small, white balls of painkillers. She popped one of them in and took the bottle of water from her desk and swallowed it.

She glanced at the large round clock above her office door, then to the once-again-empty paper in front of her, debating whether to continue with the song or to leave the room towards the very important appointment.

“F8ck the song”, she muttered and stood up from her chair, yanking her jacket and handbag from her coat hanger and rushed out of her office.

“Name?” the man with white coat asked with a smile.

“Kwon Jiyong”, the man in question answered while covering his face with his large palm.

“Age?” he asked again, noticing the idol was paying no attention to him.

“22”. Jiyong answered with leisure.

“Gender?” the doctor was asking him nonsense and he himself knew it.

“100% pure Male”, he answered, annoyance now visible on his voice.

“Hair colour?” the elder man pressed on, waiting for him to actually listen to him.

For the past three days, Jiyong had been drowning himself in alcohol, having a little party on his own.

“Dr. Song! It’s not even related. Why are you asking me these stupid questions?” he stood up from the bed, glaring down at the old man.

“How are they even stupid?” Dr. Song asked with amusement.

“Because you already know the answers to all those!!” Jiyong shouted with frustration.

He had collapsed due to stomachache that morning since he was drinking for three days straight all the while being on an empty stomach. Luckily, his manager had called the doctor who served him for almost a year. The next thing he knew he was laying on the doctor’s bed, his pains all gone.

“Exactly! Jiyong, you know you have a bad condition. Why do you keep on doing stuffs that could harm your body?” The concerned old man finally let out his bottled up anger, frustrated as to why the young male would harm himself and still tell him to look after him.

“It will pass.” Jiyong answered,  showing no sign of worry or concern for his health.

“No it will not. Jiyong, don’t go around pretending to be okay because you are not okay. Take care of yourself. Do something that actually makes you happy. Look, the past was something you cannot change, but we still have now and the future. Why would you waste that? Try it once again, only once and see if the future is a better place or not. Hmm?” He pleaded, hoping at least a word he spoke would get through. He stared at Jiyong for a moment.

Neither of them spoke as the younger one stare off into the outside world through the doctor’s window. He was willing and trying to change, for the better