CHAPTER 45

[Sol Han Na’s POV]

I sat on the edge of Baekhyun’s bed, my eyes focused on the open doors leading to the veranda. It’s been three weeks since I moved here. It was unexpected. I just always have this burning desire to dwell in the comfort offered by this room – his room. My clothes are now stashed together with his and Jongdae’s been forced to move in with Xiumin since his original roommate, Luhan, wasn’t around anymore.

I heard the door open and click as it was closed. I didn’t need to turn around. Not because I already know who the guest is, but because I know it wouldn’t be him.

It could never be him.

At the corner of my eye, I saw Kyungsoo’s figure hovering beside me but I didn’t move my gaze. The view of the trees outside with their leaves dancing along the breeze felt oddly relaxing. I simply couldn’t take my eyes of them.

“Hanna,” Kyungsoo called out, his voice lower and raspier than usual. I didn’t react. I heard his deep intake of breath before he continued in a much lower voice, almost barely audible, “They’re giving up.”

My whole attention got caught by what he said and I snapped my head towards his direction.

“What?” I blurted, my tone sharp. “What did you say?”

Kyungsoo looked down at his feet. He repeated, “They’re giving up, Hanna. His family has decided to cut all means of life support.”

I suddenly felt like I’ve been dumped in a pool filled with ice cold water.

“What?” I said again as I slowly rose to my feet. My whole body began to tremble, my self-control turning to ash. “They’re giving up? How could they just give up? He’s not dead! They’re going to kill him! He’s not dead!”

I began to turn hysterical and I’m vaguely aware that my loud screams might wake the entire dormitory up. Kyungsoo held me tightly in the arms as I struggled and fought against his grip. I was already crying and the tears blinded my sight. I must’ve punched him quite a few times before strength finally left me and I fell to the ground on my knees.

“Hanna… Hanna… Please…” I could hear Kyungsoo speak but his voice was completely muffled by my sobs. My chest jerked up and down as I fought to breathe and I felt like my heart’s going to burst any minute. The pain was excruciating. I feel like losing my mind.

“They can’t give up. How can they just give up?” I cried over and over, my hands wrapping around Kyungsoo for support.

“It’s been three weeks since the accident, Hanna, and Baekhyun had not made any progress. There isn’t anything that happened to prove that he could still… live.”

That last word felt like a strong blow. I whimpered and curled up into a ball.

“Baekhyun’s parents have a point, Hanna,” he began to explain, his voice low but soft. “That person lying there… he isn’t Baekhyun. He can’t be Baekhyun. Baekhyun is loud and always cheerful. He always has this goofy irritating smile on his face. And he’s never able to stay at a single spot without moving. That guy there… that isn’t him. And you have three days, Hanna. In three days, we all have to say goodbye. And it’s your choice whether you’d want to visit him or not. This might be your last chance.”

Kyungsoo left after that, leaving me in the agony of my own thoughts.

***

I left the dorm some time before midnight for a scheduled radio guesting with Ryeowook. I have not been in a proper condition to work lately that the company has decided to put me in a lot of radio guestings for a while and postponed what was supposed to be my repackaged album and comeback.

The secret about Baekhyun and I’s relationship spread after the incident but no one has dared to talk to me about it. It was too obvious. I was wrecked. I’ve acted in a way a mere colleague wouldn’t have. And the fact that I actually moved in to his room only made the secret more evident.

The boys know now.

But they haven’t said anything yet.

Ryeowook’s voice brought me back to the present and I realized it was my turn to sing. I’ve been visiting his show a lot lately that it already became a tradition for me to sing one cover song every night. I have been singing a lot of sad songs but the listeners don’t seem to mind. I think pretty much everyone agrees that the hours past midnight are time for sad thoughts and broken hearts.

I took my guitar, I’ve had a lot of time to master it these past few days, and began to pluck the strings.

“Put away the pictures

Put away the memories

I’ve put over and over

Through my tears.

I’ve held them ‘til I’m blind

They kept my hope alive

As if somehow that I’d keep you here.”

I let the lyrics flow out of my mouth freely, letting the emotions course through me. It’s been many weeks and days and nights of nothing but pain and misery. I’ve never felt so broken. I’ve never felt so alone. And I’ve never had this much inclination to hurt myself.