A/N: Hi, guys! Here's the first chapter! Enjoy!

The hospital room was plain, with white walls and a white ceiling. The “sterile-hospital-smell” was unmistakable. The fluorescent lights were bright, in complete contrast to the room’s gloomy atmosphere. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the beeps of the monitors and soft crying.

A young man lay on the hospital bed. Dark hair, pointed chin, pouty lips. However, his good looks weren’t really noticeable at this point. His eyes were closed, his lips quite chapped, and his skin pallid, pale, and with an unhealthy grey tinge to it. His chest moved up and down mechanically, only breathing because of the respirator, the tube of which stuck into his mouth and down his throat. Numerous wires were attached to his chest, connecting him to monitors and machines that showed and recorded his heart’s quite erratic beating.

His family was around his bed, crying.

His father and his mother were in each other’s arms as they sobbed into each other’s shoulders. Their tight hold on each other seemed to be the only thing that was keeping them from collapsing. Collapsing at the fact that they were about to lose their son—their beloved first born. Despite their son being a legal adult already, he was still too young. It seemed only yesterday that they were in the hospital when their first born was born, welcoming his birth into the world. Now, they were in the hospital again, but this time for his passing. He was still too young.

His younger brother stood right beside his bed, holding onto one of his cold and lifeless hands. His younger brother had silent tears running down his cheeks. Even after all this time, even when it was still so close to the end, the younger brother still couldn’t completely wrap his head around what was happening. His hyung was leaving him. His older brother, his best friend, his idol.

Earlier that day, they had been told by the doctors that… that it wouldn’t be long now. it would be happening soon.

The young man’s time left on earth was very limited now, as the heart monitors clearly reflected. He would be gone soon. Only a few more hours at the most. Maybe even less.

The young man’s name was Kim Jongwoon. More commonly known to his family and friends as Yesung because of his art-like and heavenly voice when he sang. He had con heart disease. It was a birth defect, so he had been suffering from it ever since he was an infant. His schooling and eventually his work were often interrupted due to numerous hospital stays. He had undergone many treatments and surgeries over the years, attempts to correct the abnormalities of his heart and prolong his life.

However, he had reached the limit of what medications, procedures, and surgeries could do for him. All that the medical interventions had done was to buy him more time—they couldn’t completely fix his heart. They weren’t enough to save his life. His heart was really defective and was giving up to all the strain. He had lived on borrowed time, and his time was nearly up now.

Several months ago, when all the other medical interventions had been exhausted, the doctors had said that only a heart transplant could save Yesung at that point. But the waiting list was quite long, and many patients passed away before a heart even became available for them. And it seemed that Yesung would be meeting the same fate.

His family was now around him to say their final goodbyes.

But they just couldn’t seem to do it.

They knew that they should to do it soon. They knew that they didn’t have much time left. They