~Back then, they were naive. Little did they know how easy it is to die.

It takes him five days but eventually, he runs out of excuses. There’s no I don’t have enough time for this or I should focus on writing left therefore he gives in to his sateless conscience and toes the short line in front of the hospital’s reception, waiting for his turn to speak up.

After he turned his back on the loud corridor a little infinity ago, his firm steps sounded ridiculously faint beside his noisy mind full of regretful thoughts. He walked home all alone in a city that should always be awake, he felt lonely and miserable regardless of the people chatting and laughing down the streets. When he managed to get home, he closed the door carefully and checked the locks twice before he pulled the heavy curtains shut and sit on the edge of his bed. By the time his mates found him, Younghyun had cried out a river and rocked himself into his sick nightmare’s tight embrace. It still holds him in a golden cage every time he closes his eyes.

’Good afternoon! How can I help you?’ a familiar voice brings Younghyun back to reality. It’s the same receptionist with utter calmness and brown eyes who rejected the young musician after she realized that he doesn’t know the injured girl’s name. The same woman whose annoying presence dresses the boy’s arms into goosebumps.

Yet, he doesn’t take aback. No. He leans on the counter’s surface instead and puts on his sweetest smile despite the fact that he cannot hide the sorrowful emptiness that reflects through his dark eyes.

’Good afternoon!’ he says with confidence. ’I’m looking for a female practitioner although I have always been problems with names.’ Younghyun scratches his forehead with his index finger and tilts his head to right in the same way he did when Jae advised him this nonsense detour. He still cannot decide whether telling the truth to his friend was the best idea of the century or the other way around. The biggest mistake of all time.

’Sorry, but I can’t…’

’You can’t help me, yeah, I heard that one before,’ he rolls his eyes while a dramatic sigh leaves his narrow lips. As matter of fact, he should have expected an answer like this. Then, he could have prepared for it with a logical explanation. Something silly like I saw this beautiful creature last week and I felt in love at first sight. Still, I was too shy and couldn’t ask her name. As far as he concerns, women like these kind of lovesick stuff. ’She’s like hmm… this tall,’ he says when the receptionist turns towards the person standing behind him. He lifts his right hand in front of his forehead while he desperately raises his raspy voice. ’She has brown hair, snub nose and mellow lips. I mean, she looks like a fairy from a tale parents always tell their kids.’

It’s a lost cause, he knows it. He knew it from the very beginning, from the moment he got out of the cab and faced with the enormous building. Yet, he had to give it a try.

He lowers his head with a resigned grimace on his face and walks towards the glowing exit sign. He sinks into his mind, recalls his last memories of the daddy’s princess who doesn’t have to fight for anything in her life and almost crosses the threshold when a soft voice forces him to halt.

’How nice! Is it a compliment?’ the young woman asks and curiosity settles in her starry eyes brightening them even more glitteringly. Her innocent gaze takes a nap on the bass guitarist’s masculine figure and glides onto his thunderstruck features at the moment he turns towards the source of his shock.

He looks so young and fragile. One who doesn’t dare to believe his own eyes or who can’t distinguish truth from untruth. Someone who is lost in a fantasy land, trapped in his haunting dreams. Like a boy who wishes nothing more than to wake up yet is unable to return to his everyday life.

’Thank God, it’s you,’ he whispers under his nose in a tone so faint no one is capable of hearing it. As soon as his mind processes his luck, the unnoticed tension leaves his body and his hands start to shake in a sick way that fills the practitioner’s heart with anxiety. She steps close to Younghyun without a second thought and escorts him to the nearest bench. She lets him put his weight onto her shoulders and stops whenever someone dedicates a bit too much attention to them.

’Why are you looking for me?’ she ask while she pulls the musician's dark hoodie onto his shaggy head. She doesn’t understand how an idol can act so stupidly reckless.

But she doesn’t waste her time on thinking, she turns her back on the boy, walks towards a water dispenser and comes back with a tiny, plastic cup filled with cool refreshment. Younghyun takes it with a shy smile before he drops his hands between his legs. He cannot make himself to drink it therefore his tired gaze loiters over the transparent liquid’s wavy surface as if it was the most mesmerizing thing in the world.

’Is she okay? I heard that she needs a new heart. Did that doctor find a donor?’ he ask as he finds the power in himself to do so. These questions scratched his throat ever since he revealed his fears of being a murderer to Jae.

As if the practitioner could read his mind, she’s taken aback. The lack of her closeness feels like the unforgiving cold of winter air or judgement by the goddamn universe. Younghyun snorts as he puts the cup onto the ground.

’First, where did you hear that?’ the practitioner asks while she shakes her head in disapproval. Her beautiful mouth becomes as white as the first snow in the nightfall of November or her perfect skin that doesn’t bear any scars or ugly wounds. She is curious and angry although she’s aware of the fact that she has to hold back one emotion or the other. If she yells at the musician and forces him to take care of his health, she will never get her answers.

With her faint question, she fails her profession. And the realization hits her like a train as bitterness blossoms in her lungs leaving sharp spikes behind.

’I was in the restroom and…’

’I changed my mind. Don’t tell a word!’ she orders while her hands make an impossible attempt and form a fragile shield in front of her chest. Due to her exaggerated motions, her dark, brown locks fall out of her strict bun right into her shocked face that becomes carmine and ruby within a single heartbeat. Her embarrassment reflects on her features.

Although, Younghyun doesn’t seem to care. The only thing he wants is freedom; a life without nightmares, guilt and his own, sick mind. He wants his odd and complex thief to be alive so he can look into a mirror without feeling those disgusting moths in his stomach.

’So?’ he questions without looking into the practitioner’s dark eyes. He watches his boots before his bored sight slides onto the tiny plastic cup full of warm water. His hands still shake as if they would try to beat down his wounded heart that pulls its weight into his ribcage with a twice as fast speed as it’s normal.

’She is strong. She had multiple surgeries yet she’s still here,’ the practitioner answers with infinite ease. She leans back onto the backrest and crosses her legs like a princess. The sudden superiority is so out of her character that her lips twitches as she, on purpose, tries to avoid Younghyun’s dark eyes full of silver dots and desperate hope. ’But no, there’s no proper donor.’

Younghyun’s long fingers clench around the end of the bench. His mouth opens, woefully looking for air.

’How much time does she have?’ There are questions people shouldn’t dare to put into words. Questions with answers so cruel everyone should fear. Questions that implies unbearable tragedies lack of greek gods and mythical creatures.

The practitioner her lips. It’s an annoying habit of hers that she took up at a very young age yet couldn’t bury with growing up.

’Do you want to see her?’ she asks with a lame attempt to divert the topic. Now, she cannot stop looking at Younghyun who seems so out of reach yet approachable at the very same time. Like a cool nerd from your class with the perfect amount of cuteness who has a crush on you but no courage to confess. A broken eye-candy who is always nice when it comes to protecting you but rude whenever you tries to appreciate his presence. Like the sky for a bird who cannot fly because of its injured wings and missing feathers.

The faint laughter that leaves the man’s mouth sends a shiver down the practitioner’s spine. It sounds like something that doesn’t belong to this world.

’Is that you really want to ask?’

No, it’s not. Yet, she swallows the itching questions that chew her from the inside and bends down so that her fingers can pick up the abandoned plastic cup. She pushes it in front of Younghyun’s face and doesn’t say a word until he drinks it up to the last transparent drop. She knows that he won’t be capable of doing that after she gives him the information he craves for.

’Weeks. At most.’

Time freezes, seconds prolong and the whole world turns upside down. Like, literally. The ceiling becomes the floor and the floor is the ceiling and Younghyun suddenly cannot find a ing strong point in his messy reality so he grasps the edge of the bench even more desperately than a single moment before.

’I don’t know her if that’s what you are curious about. She stole my bag and then she just took a step backward,’ he confesses out of the blue. The words pop out of his mouth without a second thought and free his shoulders from their heavy burdens. It brings him relief. But on the other hand, it gives the power to the young woman to destroy everything that Younghyun cares about and the realization clenches his heart. ’You can tell this to the press. But then the JYP Entertainment will sue you.’

It’s not a lie. The agency would tear the practitioner apart and Younghyun’s head would be the cherry on the top of the cake. If the practitioner beside the musician told the truth to the press, it would bury Day6 alive. Even if they could stop the fire, it would burn them and leave them with some nasty scars. With reminders that shout out: if you intend to avoid your doom, don’t trust Kang Younghyung.

’I don’t intend to tell it anyone,’ she promises before she stands up and pats the young man’s bladebone. Her fiery eyes know literally no personal space, empathy or rejection as their stubborn glimmer forces the bass guitarist to follow her movements.

By the time she halts in front of the elevator, Younghyun gets rid of the plastic cup and catches up with her. They step into its crowded inside silently, and remain voiceless until they reach the right level.

It’s nothing like the second floor where Younghyun saw the girl’s parents a few days ago. Here, the corridor is painted pure white instead of that sick shade of green that’s supposed to calm every single terrified or hysterical relative down. The light bulbs are like tiny candles all over the upper part of the walls and the benches appear to be so damn comfortable that their presence only is enough to make the musician unsure. Is he dreaming?

As they pass by a few doors with small name plates on their perfect surfaces, the practitioner slows down then stops. She turns towards a medium sized window but doesn’t say a word. Younghyun looks at the young woman’s delicate face full of unreadable emotions and his lower lips. He knows it very well, he knows that the other brought him here on purpose. He knows whose door they standing in front of. But he needs a little infinity before he turns towards the window as well.

It’s her, his dirty hoodlum with smoky eyes and ripped jeans. Her pale skin melts into the white blanket as she laying there, still unconscious. She looks like an angel, surrounded by loving people from all around the world.

’Who are they?’ he asks with his eager gaze focused on the sleeping princess’ restless subjects. One of them, a barely twenty years old girl with red curls, dark moles and European features sits by her side with a sorrowful expression on her face, while another with chocolate skin cries her eyes out in the corner. A boy, younger than anyone in the room, stands still. Diamondlike tears run down on his chubby face.

’Her friends. They come every single day,’ the practitioner answers quietly as if the volume of her voice could hide the fact that she breaks the rules once again just because of  a beautiful pair of eyes. She shouldn’t have told him a single detail about the wealthy casino owner’s precious daughter, the heir of the gambling empire.

’She must be popular. The rich girl with ethereal beauty,’ the musician says as he puts his palm onto the window, his nails playing on the wooden frame. Uneasiness overflows in his system.

People tend to forget that bad things can happen with anyone. There is no exception, it doesn’t matter if you’re a kind person with a golden heart and good intentions. You can make mistakes as well, mistakes that could destroy other’s future plans, relationships and lives. So as they can ruin your career, friendships and dreams. We all link to each other.

Younghyun takes a step backwards, two, three, four. He doesn’t stop until a padded bench forces him to do so. Then, he sits down and sinks his face into his icy palms.  

’But why would someone so wealthy steal from a stranger?’ he mumbles under his nose when he notices the familiar warmth of the practitioner’s body on his left side. His faint question is simply rhetorical, nothing more than a desperate method of progressing the buried guilt therefore his jaws drop onto the ground when the young woman’s sincere hum is followed by an equally sincere reply.

’Maybe she knows you,’ she says, looking straight towards the glass. Her tired breath is as deep as if it came from her soul.

’It just doesn’t make any sense,’ the musician protests while he recalls his dreadful memories from that certain night. Even though, everything happened so fast and the horrible amount of caffeine that he consumed didn’t help his memory either, he is one hundred percent sure that he put his hoodie on before he stepped out of the building. It’s impossible that she recognised him. How could she? They spent the whole day at the café because of his struggling with the birthday party, the lame lyrics he made last night and the deadline that was deadly close with the new date.

’You can ask her when she wakes up,’ the practitioner tells him when she notices the small valleys on the man’s forehead.

’If.’

The man’s stubborn correction builds a wall made of self-loathing around his heart and another between the two of them. Silence becomes deeper, darker, lonelier. Suddenly, it feels too hard to stay. Watching him suffering because of something that he never did.

He’s not a murderer.

’As much as I want to stay, I really have to go,’ the woman says as she stands up. The hidden grimace on her delicate face is highlighted by the candle shaped bulbs and the fact that no matter how hard she tries, she cannot help Younghyun. He will remain broken until the girl on the other side of the shining glass opens her eyes. ’Visiting hours ends at six.’

She turns her back on the bench but halts when a raspy voice shows her the man’s gratitude.

’Thank you.’

The practitioner bites her lower lip and sighs. He doesn’t even look into her eyes.

’Anyway, my name is Yoo Soonhee,’ she says quietly. Her heart breaks due to the lack of his reaction. ’In case, you need me.’

She disappears just like she appeared. Like a ghost or the invisible man from that movie Younghyun’s mother likes so much. No one gives a damn about it, and it feels like the hell in the Divine Comedy by Dante. So cold it burns your skin when you accidentally touch it.  

It’s half past six when the ear-splitting chaos pulls him out of his neverending nightmare about a girl who bleeds out on the streets. He rubs his eyes with an enormous yawn then looks around, his mouth opens wide. Doctors run right and left, nurses rush with clean, medical supplies in their hands. Everyone screams and shouts.

He stands up immediately although his limbs are stiff just like a stone that even nature itself cannot move. He elbows his way through the crowd, constantly analysing the scene that comes alive in front of his blurred eyes.

’What happened?’ he asks when he manages to grab a feminine arm out of nowhere. The nurse shoos him away with a rigid get out of the way then halts as she realizes that she cannot use the elevator because of the mass of people that is already in the inside.

Lack of a better idea, Younghyun walks to the giant window in the end of the corridor and looks down on the entrance. There are dozens of ambulance cars flickering in the dusk, people standing in a circle, watching and chatting. Dying patients with deformed limbs and broken bones. Blood slops and teardrops everywhere.

First, no one hears the silent bip. The monotonic noise that comes from her room, shadowing the inevitable out, the Grim Reaper himself. Then, it reaches his ears and clenches his heart. Her last breath that comes closer and closer with every single heartbeat that her injured one pounds.

‘Someone! Anyone! Help!’ he shouts out loud while he runs towards her room and opens up the damn door regardless of the visiting hours that ended thirty minutes ago. His messy hair falls into his face and sticks onto his sweaty forehead as he grabs the thief’s petite palm that’s so unbelievably cold the musician cannot do anything but let it go.

’Why did you steal that damn backpack when you have everything? A rich family, supportive friends,’ he asks desperately before an unfamiliar arm draws him away from Bomi’s body.

Younghyun leans against the white wall and watches the nurse and the doctor who try to save the daddy princess’ life for the third time this week. Her chest jumps in the air then falls back every time the defibrator touches her pale skin. Her beautiful, dark locks full of electricity.

’Just hold on until they get you a donor!’ Younghyun whispers under his nose as a faint prayer to God or a mighty deity in the infinite universe. ’Please.’

author's note
And yes! I came back! Well, it was a more enjoyable chapter, wasn't it? 
Thank you very much for everyone who is still here and for lyricalwritings, of course. Your comment just made my day. 
Have a nice day xx