Wendy sighed as she left the elevator, recognizing the nurse she’s been seeing for the last couple of years. The nurse gave a weak smile, shaking her head as the usual unspoken question was asked. Wendy had a heartbroken expression practically yelling on her face as she grimly nodded, heading to the familiar room with a name she’s pondered years over, anxious over seeing the face she learned may not ever laugh again.

Seeing Henry Lau hooked up to tubes and machines was never easy to see when she opened the door, slipping in quietly; as if the coma patient would wake up from the sound of the lock clicking. The awkward feeling never went away as she teetered herself to the chair, finding that there was a fresh vase of flowers, the card opened on the desk. It reads: We miss you and can’t wait to hear you play those strings again! Signed, Mom, Dad, and Sis

Sighing, she closed it and tucked it between the hundreds of petals, setting her bag on her lap.

Henry Lau is a gifted violinist who was part of the city’s symphony and had stared in music videos for a few celebrities, making himself one. Wendy followed him through social media and met him once in high school when he was a guest speaker for the university, recruiting students for his alma mater. He was only a few years older than everyone, yet Wendy, as a teenager, couldn’t help but be smitten by him, earning an autograph and a handshake. Maybe it was her imagination at that age, and she still wonders about it from time to time, but she swore he looked at her with confusion and recognition for a minute before she was escorted away so he could pay attention to the other eagerly smitten fans.

Then the dreams started to happen, and shortly after, so did the car accident. Henry Lau was on his way to meet the symphony for practice when a drunk driver hit his car, causing such severe damage that it put him through a coma. Wendy remembered crying that day, locked in her room, sobbing. She remembered the heart wrenching pain she felt, like a piece of her was gone missing. She was mad to the entire world when it happened, but that was three years ago, when she was a junior in high school. She would tear up at any sound of violin or the mention of his name, and shortly she found herself lying to Jongdae that it was because he was her greatest celebrity crush.

Wendy reached out to hold his hand and putting it under the covers when she discovered it was cold. She bit her lip and sighed, staring at him with pain in her eyes.

“As I said a thousand times, I should have said something back then, but I’m pretty sure you knew it too. I wondered a lot what kind of memories of mine you dreamt?”

As always and not without the drop of hope, he was silent. Eyes closed, the machine helping him breath.

She couldn’t stop the tears prick her eyes. “Last time I was here, I told you life was unfair, as always. You didn’t need to be in a car accident, and yet you were…”

Silence again and she couldn’t stop the sobbing. This was her normal routine; one she often tried to prevent. She always cried for the fact that Henry Lau was temporarily taken from his life, rendering the world of his vibratos and chords. She cried for herself and all the lies she told her best friend; unsure of how to tell him the truth. She also cried for the parents and family that still kept hope, putting the violinist on life support, waiting for the day he’ll wake up and play once more.

Today, her tears were different as she took some tissue and blew her nose, feeling the headache come on. She held her cheeks in her hands, trying to calm herself down as she looked away to the outside city.

When she looked at him again, she gave another sigh. “I… stopped having dreams, Henry. I no longer see memories of yours. I used to, every night since that day you came to my high school… but I don’t know why I stopped having them… I want to say it’s because I think I’m falling in love with my best friend… but the other one is… Henry, you’ve been on support for th