Last Carnival – Norihiro Tsuru (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMUhjDeEPfA)         ------------------------- Your P.O.V:       Two lovers were about to perform gracefully on a pure, white stage.   The couple was very focused on the song they were going to perform, and as a result, the man’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration.   The woman caught the man’s gaze and sent a clear message.   ‘Relax.’   He understood, and sent an appreciative smile her way.   The woman smiled back whilst placing her thin fingers on the snowy white keys of a piano. She took in a breath and started to push the keys downwards, creating the soft and melodious intro of the song.   The man patiently waited for his cue, holding his smooth brown violin under his chin and raising his long bow over the strings.   As the woman glanced quickly at her partner, he began to play his instrument, playing forcefully but also with an unexplainable gentleness that the woman melted at.   The audience was quiet, careful not to distract or interrupt the beautiful melody that lingered in the air, captivating their hearts and eventually bringing them to tears.   The sadness in the song was unmistakable; however, it had a certain bittersweet sound of faint happiness and melancholy love.   The violin and the piano’s voices complimented each other; their voices reminiscing about the sweet memories of passion, regret, and longing.   The man’s violin gradually came to a close, giving the woman’s piano a small solo.   Afterwards, the violin and piano both played as one.   It seemed as if they were lovingly embracing each other’s differences and similarities, and helping their weaknesses change into confident and carefree characteristics.   While listening to the composition, the audience knew that the song explained the man and woman’s bittersweet story.   It was a lullaby for their souls as much as it was the couple’s.   As the song closed, they both performed their notes precisely and with strong emotion.   The audience merely sat in their seats quietly.   The woman bit her lip, worried by the fact that their performance wasn’t as good as she had thought.   The man sighed, thinking that they didn’t succeed in the performance either.   A moment of silence ensued, and the performers grew wary.   Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers and shouts of an encore stage. They clapped as hard as they could and stood up from their seats, greatly acknowledging the violinist and pianist.   The two were stunned for a while.   They glanced at each other, and soon broke out into a happy smile.   Graciously, they laughed and took hold of their instruments again, more than ready to play an encore stage.   They realized that this was their personal sanctuary. Their paradise. Their everlasting carnival.   Yes, this was my lifelong dream.   My dream…   Chunji Oppa’s dream…   Our dream.   But this dream soon shattered into a million pieces…   All because God decided to take me back into the skies.       ____________________     “You’re dying.”   I stared rigidly at the doctor sitting in front of me.   He kept looking through my scans and hospital forms again.
“E-Excuse me?” I finally snapped out of my daze, looking at the doctor with a serious expression.   “You have brain cancer. I’m sorry, but you’re dying.” He replied with his head down.   “B-But that can’t be. Stop lying, doctor.” I pleaded, my eyes blurry from incoming tears.   The doctor soon looked up at me, his gaze apologetic. “It’s true.”   I fell from my chair and collapsed onto the floor, covering my face and sobbing loudly.   That explained all my painful headaches, and major drowsiness. I was really dying.   How could I ever tell Chunji Oppa?   As if on cue, he burst into the room, analyzing the situation.   “No, no, no, no…. Doctor, please. It’s not true, right? _______ isn’t dying.” I heard his urgent tone of voice.   There was a moment of silence. I was guessing that the doctor nodded.   I remained there on the floor, continuously letting my tears flow down my cheeks.   I suddenly felt a warm embrace.   “Chunji Oppa…” was all I could say.   “I’m sorry… Mianhae…” Chunji Oppa apologized numerous times, hugging my limp body tight.   “What do you have to apologize for?” I asked, hiccupping between sobs.   “Everything.” He whispered, patting my back in consolation as he shed a few tears as well.   Together, we stayed in that position, crying together.   That memory was the most painful one I ever experienced.   That memory took me to where I was now; sitting in my hospital bed, looking emotionlessly outside.   I heard a knock on the door.   “Come in.” I said, barely audible.   Chunji Oppa cheerfully came in the door. In his arms, he had a bouque