“And…that’s it. See you guys tomorrow,” our choreographer said before leaving the practice room. Once the door slammed shut, everyone dropped to the ground with their heads down, panting. Everyone except Yixing, who was still on his two feet, wiping the sweat on his forehead with a face towel.

“All of you are extremely out of shape,” he said, earning a scoff from Baekhyun. Yixing rolled his eyes and threw the face towel in Baekhyun’s direction, causing him to jump to his feet.

“Hey!” Yixing chuckled before taking a seat next to Minseok, who was currently in a heated discussion with Jongdae. I didn’t bother to ask what the discussion was about so I turned to my right to see Luhan laying on his back, occupied with his phone. His eyes were dilated and I lowered my head down to see what he was so focused on. It was a stupid game. I shook my head at the 23 year old who still acted like he was in pre-school. To be fair, all of us had the tendency of not acting our own age. Maybe that was the reason so many people found us relatable in a sense. At least that’s what we’re told during fan signings.

“Kris? What are you staring at?” I was snapped back into reality by Junmyeon’s voice. I hadn’t realized that I had been staring at the ground for a while. Everyone was looking at me, even Luhan who was taking his eyes off of his phone screen for a few seconds before returning his attention to his phone.

“Nothing.” I said whilst shaking my head, earning a few strange looks. I smiled wearily before getting up and making my way over to the practise room door. Maybe I had to take a walk outside for a while before we went back to the dorms. I was about to step outside the room before I realized an oversized bag that was placed by the door frame. Leaning down, I rummaged through the bag and noticed that they were all letters.

“Those are from the fans. You can read some if you want.” I turned to see Junmyeon looking at me, a slight smile on his face. I returned my attention back to the black leather bag and picked out some letters that were written for me.

“You’re amazing! You’re such an inspiration to me. Thank you SO much for everything. ^_^”

I couldn’t help but smile, reading all these letters. They were all written for me, each and every one of them containing words of encouragement and support. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t happy doing what I was doing. This was what I’ve always wanted, right? Why should I be unhappy?

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear before unfolding the last letter. This one seemed like it was longer than the rest and it was written in English. The rest of the members usually had a hard time whenever they received a letter in English. They tried their best understanding the words but most of the time they asked for my help.

“Dear Kris,

Hello. Firstly, I would like to tell you beforehand that I will not mention my name in this letter. I will, although, tell you that I am a 19 year old girl who isn’t in the best condition. I’m currently writing this letter on my hospital bed, waiting for my mum to visit me.

You see, I’m quite sick. Cancer, actually. I don’t want to go on and on about that since this letter wasn’t meant for me to gain your sympathy but in case you were wondering, I’m doing fine. Well, as fine as a sick girl can be.

I want to tell you about the first time I saw you all perform live. It was last year. My mum wasn’t too crazy with the idea of me going to a concert all by myself when I was supposed to be resting since I wasn’t feeling so well. But the doctors reassured her that she should let me live a little. The irony, huh?

I didn’t regret it though. I wasn’t very close to the stage but I didn’t need to be. I was there and that was what really mattered to me. Having a life threatening disease, I’ve learned, makes you appreciate everything more. Well, at least to me. From where I stood, I could still see you all on stage. I could hear the music, see the lights changing, the air filled with screams. It was a kick of adrenaline; a sense of excitement. I needed that. So, thank you.”

I checked my wristwatch and it was a quarter past midnight. We had to leave soon and that meant that I had to finish this letter. I could just finish this back at the dorms but I didn’t want to stop reading. Not just yet.

“Anyway, that wasn’t the reason I wrote to you this letter and that wasn’t the reason I sent this specific letter to you. The reason I wrote this very letter was to tell you how lucky you are. Not because you aren’t stuck in the hospital like poor old me-god no- but because you are able.

You are able to live, knowing you’ve reached your dreams. Unless this isn’t you dream then I don’t know what you’re doing…. haha” oddly, I could hear her laugh. I had no idea whatsoever of who this girl was and somehow, I can hear her laugh.

“I watch you on stage and see the look in your eyes. I can see your eyes shining so bright, practically glowing like the stars that paint the sky at night. They are so filled with joy. I can see it in your smile too.

I am so happy for you. I am so happy that you are happy and I hope you always are. I don’t know you personally and I could be completely wrong but from my perspective, you seem like you hold back a lot. Like you have certain things on your mind that you don’t bother telling anyone else. It’s not that you don’t want to but it’s just that you feel as if it’s best if you kept it to yourself. No matter if it’s good or bad, they’re just your personal thoughts that float through your mind from time to time.

Like I said, I could be completely wrong but that’s just my view of you. And if my perception is correct, it strengthens my reasoning of sending you this.

Because I know you might not tell the others about this letter. That you might never tell anyone about the words that I have said to you. If that’s the case then I made the right choice. I look at this letter as if it’s my dying wish (I don’t take it in a morbid manner though so no need to worry).

You know how much you are adored, don’t you? You know the amount of people around the world who look at you and go, “Wow, that’s my dream. I want to be like that. I want to perform.” You know all of this and you don’t take it for granted because you know how easily you can lose it all. So you hold on; tightening your grip. You don’t let go. And I’m telling you not to let go.

Don’t let go for yourself because you have worked too hard. Don’t let go because you know there are 11 other people who are right beside you, helping you through it all. That they’re going through the exact same thing you are. Don’t let go for your fans who look at you as a source of hope and happiness. This might all sound tremendously cliché and cheesy but when you’re hooked to an IV drip, being cliché becomes the least of your problems.

I don’t want to deem myself as special or anything but there’s one more thing. Don’t let go for me. I am indeed telling you to not let go for a complete stranger and I have no shame on doing so. Because I wish I was able. I wish I was lucky enough to have fulfilled my dreams. I wish I could have lived life, knowing I had made such an impact on so many people’s lives.

Sadly, here I am. I’m still stuck in this crappy hospital room, waiting for my next session with my doctor. I end my days, wondering whether I would wake up the next morning. Living life on the edge between life and death. I won’t lie and tell you that it’s not scary but the world gets less scary when you realize all the monsters under your bed have always been in your head. That it is possible for those monsters to go away because angels walk the earth. They are like lights, glimmering. Your eyes glimmer, you know?

I am not able, yes. But you are. Never forget that.”

That was the end of the letter. No “Thank you” or “I love you” at the end of the letter. The only thing visible at the bottom of the page was a single “E” next to two X’s.

“E?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Kris? Are you out here? We’re leaving now.” I heard Sehun’s voice, calling out for me. I gathered up all the letters and ran back inside, joining the rest.

~*~*~

2:07a.m.

Everyone was sound asleep. I, on the other hand, kept on thinking about the letter. The same words kept on playing in my head. “You are able” and she was right.

I feel lucky, indeed. I feel lucky that I get to wake up. Lucky that I get to see the sun rise and the sun set every day. I am privileged to be able to even breathe. I can lay in bed every night and know that I am doing what I love and I couldn’t be happier with where I am.

There are those days where I want to stop and leave everything behind. Where I’d want to stop in the middle of practising and just leave the room without looking back. I’ve had those days where all I would wish for was for all of this to have never happened. But my first dream was to be something great, like the stars in the sky. To shine so bright in someone’s eyes. Knowing that I do, I can’t let go. I need to hold on for myself. I need to hold on for the others. I need to hold on for her. I owe her that much.

“I am not able, yes. But you are. Never forget that.”  I reread this sentence over and over again before folding the letter and placing it in my dresser.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”