~ They should have known better than to fall.

The hospital canteen is loud and crowded although it doesn’t sour their mood, not in the least, especially when Younghyun finds a safe place in the middle of this chaos. The whole situation is so out of the ordinary since it’s almost nine o’clock and this hour is for those who couldn’t eat their dinner due to an important surgery. It’s supposed to be a deserted area, nothing like a funhouse. Therefore, if Bomi had had another choice, she would have rather spend her whole evening in bed, waiting for the musician to come, far away from her therapist and this carousel that makes her head dizzy. But life’s rarely fair and never gives presents for free. With these crazy flashes in her mind, she knows that this new life of hers has a price, too. A price she’s not willing to pay.

’Okay, I’m officially and completely full. There’s no way I can eat another mouthful of these,’ she says, fighting her diamondlike tears that keeps falling from her eyes. With a genuine smile, she leans against the wooden backrest and pushes away the fraught tray that is packed with cold fishcakes and steamed vegetables.

Playing this silly eating contest was a very, very lame idea.

Anyway, when Bomi’s leftover crashes into Younghyun’s meal, the musician lifts his head up and puts his chopsticks onto the table. He looks at the girl in disbelief, amused by the sight in front of him as the dancer leans onto her elbows, focusing on him, and him only. She seems nothing like her old self, when every personal answer was followed by an equally long silence. Like a phoenix, rising from the ashes, she’s more lively than ever. Therefore, her cheerful gaze, nothing more, is enough to melt Younghyun on the inside.

’Hah! I’m so sure that you’re going to regret this hasty statement,’ he says after he wipes his mouth and turns towards his backpack that rests on the back of his chair.

Bomi, sitting uneasily, raises one of her eyebrows.

’Oh, really? What makes you say that?’ She asks, with childish curiosity in her lovely voice. She doesn’t want to dream big, she has never dared to, but her chest’s like a volcano on the edge of eruption and her lovesick hopes are burning up her face. She looks like a full-blown rose before withering, all red and mesmerizing.

’It’s from Canada,’ Younghyun says, excited, as he puts the tasty maple syrup next to his abandoned chopsticks. The sweet taste of the golden brown syrup was the first thing that was able to unfreeze his icy heart after he moved abroad. That’s why he brought this to the girl; to make her last day a bit more sweeter and less lonelier. ’For the last night of imprisonment.’

Younhyun’s present leaves Bomi in awe therefore she needs a few minutes to pick up the pieces and decipher the confusion inside her mind. The pleasant warmth in her chest makes her sure that she is grateful even though she cannot decide how she truly feels about the fact that her crush brought her something other than flowers. She should be over the moon. She should be more than happy, right?

Yet, it’s like thorns poking her from the inside.

’Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have to,’ she replies quietly, focused on everything but the maple syrup as she tries to prolong time. She slows down her movements on purpose, idles over her messy bun, the last drop of her water and the leftovers on her plates.

’But I wanted to,’ he tells her, when her apparent struggling followed by deep silence becomes too heavy to bear. Although, he came by whenever he had time, three or four times a week, brought her lilies and kept her company, he’s still lack of comforting skills or words that could bring back the light atmosphere.

Bomi lowers her head and takes a breath, two, three. She thinks about the last ten months and the first time she saw him stepping out of the coffee shop. It happened on the second week of January, when everyone was so busy that no one noticed her in the crowd. She elbowed her way through the mass, steadily moving towards the bus stop, when a boastful woman pushed her and her stuff toppled over, scattered on the ground. No one helped her, no one stopped. Nobody, except one person with faint hair and a concerned smile on his handsome face.

’It’s funny,’ she says completely out of the blue. She sinks into her mind too suddenly, she doesn’t even realize that her hand touches the top of the maple syrup. All she can see is him and the tiny snowflakes that circulated in the air, dancing around their bodies. The way their fingers abuted and the hollowness inside her chest after he left. ’The fact that I almost had to die to be able to speak with you.’

Younghyun looks at the girl in disbelief as his gaze loiters over her petite figure, leaning against the chair. She seems perfectly fine; like a fairy. Yet, her bold statement scares the hell out of the musician. How could something so terrible be funny? How could a car crash ever be funny? He has absolutely no idea what’s the girl thinking but he definitely dislikes the road this whole conversation going down.

’Well, we clearly have different opinions on the word funny,’ he replies with his brows knitted to each other. For a little infinity, he faces with the dancer who stays still just the same. Then, he picks up his metal chopsticks and pushes his gift towards the girl whose rosy lips twitch before she lets her smile spread all over her face.

Younghyun bends over his soup with satisfaction and inhales the spicy smell of it with a wide smirk that playing on his mouth.

’I mean…’ she starts, persuaded by an itching urge from the inside. All embarrassed, she fidgets with her fingers, desperately trying to find out the reasons behind her rashly words. She should have shut up and let the topic go, shouldn’t she? Gosh, would remaining in silence be more suspicious? ’I waited for you to step out of the café whenever I was nearby. You know, I didn’t have the courage to go to the inside, so I brought some fishcakes at a stall on the opposite side of the road and waited. It’s a really nice stall, actually…’

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Bomi her lips and closes her eyes with shame. Her heart, that pumps like crazy, is in while her whole world is on fire. Her blood, like liquid sunshine, runs through her system, leaving crimson patches behind. She cannot breath, she cannot think. Those flames, that kissed her gently, are now choking her like a beast that woke up from his dreams.

’Sorry, I sounded much worse than a crazy fan,’ she whispers without strength. Her pleasant voice is hoarse and raspy as if those metaphorical fists around her neck would be real and deadly.

Younghyun chuckles lightly as Bomi’s mumbling reaches his ears. Day6 isn’t his first band nor his first chance to make music. Therefore, the fact that his fairy likes him doesn’t bother him at all. As a matter of fact, it just makes his heart flutter in a wonderful way he couldn’t experience before.

’It’s okay,’ he answers gently between two loud sips. ’It seems that she was right after all. You knew me and that’s why you got involved in the street mugging.’

Talking about Yoo Soonhee is as easy as talking about a friend even though thinking of her alone is enough to make the musician sorrowful. Truth to say, since he got his special permission to come by the private area regardless of the strict rules or the visiting hours, he didn’t look for the young practitioner, not in the least. It seems money indeed solves every problem, making other’s help useless.

’Who are you talking about?’ Bomi’s innocent question catches the man off guard therefore he needs an ephemeral moment before he swallows the last piece of vegetable in his mouth and phrases a coherent answer. Although, he hasn’t got much experience with women and Bomi doesn’t seem like a jealous person, he knows that the truth would upset the dancer. He cannot tell her that Soonhee is his informant, the only one in this damn hospital who didn’t turn their backs on him in the hour of need. He cannot tell her that he knew her name weeks before their first conversation or her destiny to be the future ruler of their gambling empire.

So, he puts up a mask and shoos away the delicate topic

’It’s not important. The only thing that matters is you being okay,’ he says from the bottom of his heart. Younghyun’s smiling eyes and cheeky smirk make the girl blush, forcing her face to give up its pale colour.

’Don’t be cheesy!’ she begs, lifting her hands in front of her head.

Finishing his meal, Younghyun leans back on his chair and lets out a light yawn. His tears that hid in the corner of his eyes now run down on his cheeks, drawing thin lines onto his skin. For the first time in a very long time, he feels like he could sleep with his hands crossed on the table.

’Me? You’re the one who just admitted of having a massive crush on me,’ he replies, preoccupied. Of course, hearing a beautiful girl’s confession isn’t a new thing for him. He is a bass guitarist, after all. But the warmth that follows her words, well, it’s something out of ordinary. And it’s surprisingly nice.

He observes her quietly, without moving. He doesn’t say anything nor force her to do so. He dives into her presence and let the sight take away the burdens of his soul.

Younghyun’s body trembles as the harsh sound of Bomi’s tray reaches his ears.

’Here! You should eat these, too,’ the girl orders, putting her leftovers onto the musician’s plate. Her determined features know literally no antagonism as she packs the cold fishcakes one after the other. ’You look too skinny to have anyone who has a crush on you.’

Bomi sweeps an unexisting mop of hair behind her ear to hide her uneasiness. To Younghyun, she looks extremely cute when she feels ill at ease.

’Hah! As you wish,’ he obeys before he eats up everything. ‘Thank you.’

After they finish their late dinner, they exchange small talks about their dreams, high hopes for the future and how music became an important part of their lives. It doesn’t take a minute, they both lost in each other therefore the next thing they pick up on is the security guard who asks them to leave.

It’s quarter past eleven, when Younghyun escorts the dancer to her room and kisses her forehead as a gentle goodbye.

The natural light of the burning Sun is blinding. It draws shadows around the abandoned bed, the empty bedside table and the withered flowers in the trash. It feels strange, leaving this place behind.

Bomi stands in front of the double window, watching the parking area quietly while her gaze loiters over a black Ssangyong Rexton with an uneasy woman inside. She watches her mother getting in and out of the vehicle, walking around the jeep, shouting at the driver when he asks her to stop. The whole situation is so familiar, it makes her heart ache, feeling completely homesick.

'Are you ready, baby girl?' a raspy voice asks her, pulling her back to reality, far away from her ever so pleasant daydream. With a sweet smile on her face and a bitter sigh that even Younghyun would be proud of, she turns towards her father then takes a deep bow as a sign of her unconditional love and respect for the man, standing on her threshold. She still feels embarrassed because of the car accident that turned her family's life upside down, therefore she doesn't look directly into her father's eyes. She avoids them on purpose, trying to beat down her demons who constantly whispering her ears. You put your parents to shame. How dare you? You deserve nothing but exclusion.

'Yes, dad,' she answers politely when the silence becomes too deep. She walks to her bed and picks up her favourite denim jacket from the top of her sports bag full of clothes and useless gifts. Her diary, so as the maple syrup, is already in the car, waiting for her to check out.

Bomi sweeps a mop of hair behind her ear then lifts up the gray bag casually as if she would go home from one of her late night trainings and not from this institute that held her captured for almost five weeks.

'Great,' her father says, putting his right palm onto Bomi's bladebone. His features are nothing but pure kindness although his hand is strong that makes the girl worried. She feels so small and fragile like a child who cannot speak yet wants to scream. She wants to say thank you and sorry until becomes dry and wounded. 'I'll take care of the papers so all you have to do is waiting for me in the car. Okay?'

'Yeah.' She nods.

Her father pats her shoulder and pulls her close. Bomi's eyes brim with tears as the old man's tight embrace cuts the air out from her lungs.

'Your mom is already there, waiting for you,' he whispers, fondling his precious daughter's messy hair. His voice is strange, almost weak, and if Bomi didn't know him better, she would think that he's balancing on the verge of crying. Is he sorrowful, or the other way around, over the moon form the fact that she is okay? Is he that relieved? Whichever is the case, she doesn't want to see him cry, not even a single tear.

'I love you, dad,' she says quietly, drawing herself apart from him so that she can look him in the eye. She would like him to know that she loves him, that she's never wanted to hurt him or put him and her mother into a difficult situation.

They stand there, hugging each other for minutes before she picks up her sports bag and leaves the private room behind.

The girl waits for the elevator absentmindedly, completely lost in her thoughts therefore she doesn’t even realize when she steps onto the lift. Floor follows floor, people leave and come, yet the only thing that catches her attention is a familiar, masculine voice that echoes in the downstairs. Somehow, she cannot brush aside the vibe that she heard this peculiar tone before.

Somewhere in her dreams.

’It wasn’t her fault. I don’t care what the policeman said. It wasn’t,’ he shouts out loud, regardless of the crowd that gather around the reception. As if they were in a theatre, they watch the scene with awe, their mouth is open wide. No one takes an action, no one moves. They stay still, enjoying the trouble that diverts their attention of their own misery.

Clenching her hands around her bag, Bomi halts as well in a safe distance from the mess. She leans her head against the wall next to a wooden bench and tries to remember. Why is this young man so familiar? He doesn’t look like a professional dancer nor a student form her uni although anyone can be an university student hence her mind is simply lack of logical thoughts.

’I’m sorry, but I cannot give you her belongings,’ the receptionist’s voice tinkles out of the blue. She says that like she always does. She cannot and won’t help; it doesn’t surprises the girl at all. Yet, her answer definitely brings out the man’s temper. His ears turn into ruby red as his veins burn with the flames of rage.

He smacks the counter aggressively.

’I am… I was her damn boyfriend,’ he hails and a few drops of saliva fly out of his mouth while he tries to convince the elder to give him whatever he needs.

It takes two loud it, the system, the whole damn world, whereof the guards arrive and push the disturber’s left cheek onto the counter’s surface. They grab the man’s arms and turn him onto the exit with force. That’s when she recognizes his features.

And it catches her totally off guard.

She takes an insecure step backwards and let the guards go, getting out of their way. She cannot believe her own eyes, she refuses to. Yet, he looks just like him. The boy from her nightmares, the ghost who haunts her daytime. She definitely goes insane.

As the front door closes and opens up again, the security guards split up and try their best at dispelling the crowd. She doesn’t have to think twice, with a faint smile on her face, she leaves the building when they ask her to.

The weather is cold, almost wintery but that’s not what makes her stop. The pathetic sight of the disturber is. He stands near to the entrance, with his leather jacket on, acting like crazy. He kicks the wall, screaming and crying. It makes the girl’s heart ache.

She knows that she should go straight to his father’s jeep where her mother waits for her all anxious. She knows that this man could be dangerous. But the fact that she knows things, well, it doesn’t mean that she can betray her own heart. Therefore, she takes a deep breath, two, three and walks towards the broken man.

 ’Are you okay?’ she asks recklessly while she puts her shaking palm onto the man’s shoulder. She bends down to him, trembling. Meanwhile, her present becomes a strange mixture of dreams and hidden memories. She sees the man in front of her in a white shirt, laughing and cooking. He looks younger and much more relaxed.

Next, the picture changes, he is on the beach, playing with the sand. His tongue is out of his mouth, his lower lip. His gaze focuses on his castle, and the castle only while she sinks into the details, crooning the chords that echoes in her ears. Everything is just perfect until the man looks her in the eye with his owns, glimmering because of his sadness.

’Do I look okay? Because I’m definitely not,’ he replies with anger, pulling Bomi back to reality. He brushes the dancer’s palm off of his shoulder then draws himself apart from her unwanted company.

’Can I help you somehow?’ It starts as an innocent question, nothing more than a weak attempt at helping. Yet, it is followed by a hurricane; something between pure hatred and desperation.

’Well, if you cannot tell them to give me back my dead girlfriend’s belongings, then I’m afraid, you’re just as useless as I am,’ he answers with irony. His words have edge on purpose. He tries to hurt everyone around him because if he didn’t, he would hurt himself instead. And losing their beloved daughter-in-law was already a harrowing tragedy for his parents. They cannot lose their son, too.

'What was your girlfriend's name?' Bomi asks, chewing her lips. Sadly, she is fully aware of the fact that she's not her father hence her power isn't that mighty she wants it to be. She cannot move mountains nor force anyone to do as she pleases. Yet, she wants to find a way to help. It's something she is one hundred percent sure of.

When the girl's soft question fondles his ears, the man lifts his head, his sight sticking on the dancer. He doesn't know why, maybe because of the determination in her almond-shaped eyes or the kindness in her voice, but he find himself talking. Forming the name of the love of his life.

'Han Jiyoung,' he says quietly while he sits down on a bench a few steps from the entrance. It still rips his heart out, thinking of her and the plans they made, plans that remained undone. He wanted to show her the world, the waves of the Pacific Ocean, the shores of Italy, the sunsets in California. He wanted to give her everything she deserved and so much more. He wanted to be a good husband, her escape, her shelter. He wanted to make her happy.

Bomi takes a step backwards, her brows knitted. It is not just the man who seems extremely familiar but the name that leaves his mouth.

She turns her back on him without a second thought or a proper goodbye and elbows her way through the mass of people still chatting about the incident. They call the man insane and mock his actions, laughing. Therefore, a bitter grimace settles onto her features whereof she reaches the reception and the rigid woman behind the counter.

'Excuse me! Why does the hospital hold back Han Jiyoung's belongings?' she questions immediately. She doesn't waste her time on being polite therefore her straightforwardness catches both her and the receptionist off guard. The woman's dull eyes open wide in dismay, her anger is more than obvious. Yet, she swallows her indignation as she recognizes the young heir of the Korean gambling empire.

'It's in the police station,' she says, lowering her head. Truth to tell, being questioned by a girl so young is something that hurts her pride and she was never good at hiding her feelings. The last thing she wants is to get fired because of a little slip of a thing, a queasy nosey parker who gets everything she desires.

Bomi looks at the woman, confused. No matter how hard she tries, she is unable to decipher the reasons behind the woman's actions. It's a bunch of crap.

'Why didn't you tell it to the guy who just left?' She asks, looking at the exit from above her shoulder. She thinks about the man, sitting on the bench, completely broken. Then, she thinks about those crazy flashes about him happily smiling. It sends stone cold shivers down her spine and makes her feel miserable.

'Sorry, miss Nam. He seemed unstable and dangerous,' the receptionist replies, avoiding the girl's disapproving gaze. She really cannot stand when someone puts all the blame on her for something she has to do. How could she possibly give that disrespectful rascal anything after he shouted right into her face? He didn't deserve these informations.

And speaking of which, how dares this sassy brat talking her like this?

'He's just desperate. He lost his girlfriend and...' the dancer corrects the receptionist boldly, with her fingers knocking on the counter's surface. Yet, before she could finish her sentence, the woman's cheeky comment outplaces the end of her statement.

'Well, that young woman actually saved your life with her death. You should be thankful,' she says with a broad smile, acting all innocent. Then, she turns her gaze towards the old man behind Bomi and asks whether she could help him with something.

Time stops for a minute, prolongs. Meanwhile, the floor slips out of the dancer's feet, making her feel dizzy. She cannot breath. She cannot think. She cannot believe her own mind.

Is it possible? Remembering the smell of the rain in Busan when she's never been there. Remembering the taste of a kiss when she's never kissed before. Is it possible? Possessing something that once belonged to another person. Caring about a death woman's boyfriend.

Is it possible? Or she's just losing her mind?

author's note
First, I have to tell you that the dead girl and the man from Bomi's dreams were not a married couple. I used the phrase daughter-in-law because of the very same reason a Korean person calls his girlfriend's mother 'mom'. Second, I am really sorry but I cannot finish the whole story in time so there is a huge chance that the last chapter won't be posted on Sunday. Anyway, I will definitely upload it until Tuesday. It's a promise I do not intend to break! 
And again, thanks for everyone who read these lines. It means a lot, especially your cheerful comments lyricalwritings! <3
Love you all xx