01

The Royal Palace, 19:24 

Jongin was standing at the foot of the bed in his parents' room, watching his father cough uncontrollably. He doesn't know what happened, but when he had returned from his university classes, his mother had called him upstairs immediately. All he knows was that something was very, very wrong. 

"Oh, dear.. You really do not look well," his mother had stated the obvious. The lips of his father were stripped of colour and his eyes were gaunt and almost lifeless. He was alive, but he didn't look like it. At all. 

"The doctor is here," one of the royal servants had entered the room, a doctor with two nurses following behind him. 

Jongin watched the doctor and nurses observe his father for the next 20 minutes, which felt like they just wouldn't end. His father was in pain, that much was certain, but why? What had happened that he got sick so suddenly? 

"We need to get him to the hospital and have him checked there. It's not looking too well," the doctor had said, the nurses already calling for an ambulance. "Your Majesty, you may come with us in the ambulance or follow behind us," he told his mother, the queen. 

She looked at Jongin with tears in her eyes. "What about my son? Can he come too?" she asked but the doctor shook his head. "There isn't enough room for that many people in the ambulance."

"Don't worry, mother. I'll follow behind you by car," he reassured her, although he couldn't help but feel absolutely helpless. For once, power or money didn't matter. There was really nothing he could do. 

 

St. Mary's hospital, Seoul, 21:34

Time seemed to go by even slower than it did before while Jongin was waiting for the results. Only one person was allowed to join, and he had let his mother go instead of him, but not knowing what was happening was slowly killing him. 

Suddenly, the door opened and his crying mother walked out, a doctor following behind her. 

"He has terminal lung cancer."

His world had just collapsed on top of him.

"So.. He won't get better?" he asked, fearing the answer. 

"The odds are very unlikely, nearing impossible. We can slow down the process by giving treatment, although the prognosis is that he has about 10 months left to live."

10 months. 

"That's so short.." he muttered, tears welling in his eyes before falling onto his lap. He held his head low, facing the floor. He couldn't bear seeing anyone for a moment, he needed to process this.

His father would die soon, and he could already feel the crushing pressure of responsibility weighing him down. 

"Can I go see him?" Jongin asked the doctor. 

"Yes, but I have to add that he is attached to a ventilator, so he might sound different than you are used to."

He could care less, as long as he could just talk with his father while it was still possible, he didn't care. 

He entered the room and saw his father, the king, lying on a hospital bed.

IV attached, ventilator besides him, and a heart monitor constantly reminding him that he was still there. 

"My son... Come here.." his father said in a hoarse and raspy voice. Jongin sat down in a chair next to the bed, holding his father's cold hand in his. 

"I hate seeing you like this. It's not fair," Jongin sobbed. His father wasn't even that old, only in his mid 50s. Jongin had barely turned 21, he wasn't ready for this to happen.

"I know. But there is no point in arguing about fairness. I know I will not be here for that long anymore, and you already know what is awaiting you," his father reminded him. Jongin blinked away more tears, holding his father's hand tighter in the process. 

"But, a king cannot rule on his own."

Jongin looked his father in his eyes. What was he talking about? 

"The queen compliments the king.The king creates the base and the queen finishes it. Before you can become king, you must find yourself a queen. That is all I ask of you, that is my last wish. Please, Jongin. Find yourself a lovely girl, one who will remain by your side through your reign and even long after it. Once you have brought her to me, you can marry her, and you can become king."

Marriage.

Great, another thing to worry about. 

"I will not let you down, father. I promise."

 

Yonsei University, Seoul, 10:12 

"Seoyeon!" a familiar voice called out, causing her to turn around. It was her boyfriend, Sehun, who was sprinting towards her with open arms. "Stop, stop, stop! I have hot coffee in my hands!" she yelled before he could jump her and ruin her white sweatshirt. His sprint came to a sudden stop and he bursted out into a laughing fit. 

"Track star athlete Oh Sehun does it again. You keep thinking I would actually run right into you while you have something in your hands. Plus, you're too short to catch me anyway," he said, ruffling her hair much to her annoyance. 

"Why do I even date you, Christ."

"Because you love me and because I am h-o-t!"

Seoyeon scoffs, patting her hair down back into place.

"More like n-o-t."

Her boyfriend pouts like a small child but she pays him no mind. He always does this. 

"You're lucky you're so cute, else my feelings would be so hurt right now," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

Eventhough Seoyeon likes to pretend she's annoyed by Sehun's playful antics, she really isn't. It's what makes him Sehun, and she loves him for it. 

She just wishes he wouldn't do it this early in the morning when she has hot liquid in her hands. 

"So, what's my little design student girlfriend doing today? Hm? Coming to photograph me during practice? Please, print them, I'd love to sign them," Sehun says, channeling his inner diva and throwing a dramatic pose. 

"Okay, Mariah Carey, calm down," Seoyeon laughs. 

"I have this new assignment, and it's literally perfect. I have to design an original magazine, genre of own choice. So guess what I'm doing?"

Sehun gasps excitedly.

"I'm going to photograph Kris Wu from the basketball team and put him on the cover," Seoyeon teases, trying to hold in her laugh when she sees Sehun's face fall.

"You joke too much. Say sike right now."

She enters a laughing fit, unable to recover for a mome