AFF Poster / Logo Credit to the best and #1 Yongshin writer:  EmotionalStar

The door flies open, slamming hard against the wall. I nearly jump out of my skin as I whip around to see what’s happened. My mouth falls open as I spot a motley crew of unwashed hooligans streaming into the hospital room. I recognize these people. They’re the ones I kicked out of the way when Yong Hwa first got here. I should have known they’d be back.

“Looking good, Yong Hwa!” howls the short, somewhat jowly man I spoke with in the waiting room while Yong Hwa was being admitted.

“You’re the manager, right?” I ask.

“That’s me,” he says, offering his hand to me, “Han Dae Jin, pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Shin Hye,” I say, shaking his proffered hand, “I’m Yong Hwa’s night nurse.”

“He’s a lucky guy, to be taken care of by someone as lovely as you,” Dae Jin grins, holding onto my hand for longer than is necessary.

“I’m rather good at my job, if that’s what you mean,” I say coolly.

“Sure,” Dae Jin says with a wink. He crosses the room to Yong Hwa and leans over the hospital bed. “So what’s the story, big guy?” he asks, “You fixed yet or what?”

“Who knows?” Yong Hwa shrugs.

A man steps up earnestly. “What about the show in two days?” he asks, “Are they going to let you play? The fans are going to kill us if we miss another show.”

“This is Jong Hyun,” Yong Hwa tells me, nodding toward the man, “Our guitarist. And something of an alarmist, as it would happen.”

“Do you blame him?” says a thick, shaggy man beside me. I recognize him from the waiting room as well. “We’ve all been worried about you.”

“Jung Shin, I’m fine,” Yong Hwa insists. “Tell them I’m fine, Shin Hye.”

“He’s fine,” I confirm, “A royal pain in the , but he’s going to be out of here soon I think.”

“Sounds like our boy,” says the young man. I assume that this is Min Hyuk, the drummer of CN BLUE.  I can’t help but give a long once-over to the girl behind him. Her named is Han Hae Ju.  She’s got a good three inches on me, and probably about ten fewer pounds. She looks like some kind of nymph—with long, jet black hair and bright eyes. The features of her face are almost impossibly delicate, and even the simple cotton dress she’s wearing looks elegant on her.

I give my head a little shake, trying to dislodge the judgmental thoughts from my mind. Why am I comparing myself to this woman I’ve never met? It’s not like I have anything to prove to these people.

The five visitors take over the hospital room, perching on chairs and equipment, wherever they land on first. They’re chattering up a storm, filling Yong Hwa in on the buzz that’s been happening since his hospitalization. Apparently, some fan managed to get a video of the whole fight, and Yong Hwa’s brave defense of some young audience member against a few big thugs. The video had gone viral overnight, 50,000 views in 3 hours, and the few remaining tickets for the band’s world tour started selling out like crazy.

“Now you know what to do if ticket sales ever start to slump,” I say “Just get beat up and hospitalized, and you’ll be back on track in no time.”

“I wasn’t beat up,” Yong Hwa says, “I was overwhelmed.”

“I thought we could celebrate our sold out tour a little early,” Dae Jin says, grinning. He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a small bottle of booze. The band mates cheer and clap excitedly, but I lunge forward and snatch the bottle out of his hand. “Hey!” he cries, “That’s mine!”

“What is the matter with you people?” I demand, all but wagging my finger at them, “Yong Hwa’s recovering from internal bleeding. The last thing he needs is a shot.”

“Don’t be such a hard !” groans Jung Shin, the thickset bassist. “Just a little sip of this sweet bourbon is just what the doc…”

“No, that’s—hey!” I cry, as the guitarist Jong Hyun pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What, you’re telling me we can’t smoke in here, either?” he asks.

“Of course that’s what I’m telling you!” I cry, snatching the cigarette out of his hand and putting it out in the sink. “What planet do you people come from? There’s concentrated oxygen in these rooms, and it’s extremely flammable. Have you never been in a hospital before?”

“Not while I’ve been conscious,” a woman smiles, crossing her thin arms.

“I think you guys had better go,” Yong Hwa says, “Shin Hye’s getting all steamed.”

“I’m not steamed,” I snap, “I am at a loss.”

“We’ll hit the road,” Dae Jin says, “We just wanted to tell you the good news.”

“Get better as fast as you can,” Jong Hyun says, “We don’t want to cancel on the fans again if we don’t have to!” added by the drummer.

“Don’t count on him being out by tomorrow,” I warn.

“Nothing wrong with hoping,” Hae Ju says. She leans over Yong Hwa and gives him a kiss on the forehead. A hot rush of jealousy courses through my veins. I’m taken aback by the sensation, and for a moment I find it hard to breathe. What the hell is the matter with me?

The band members file out of the room, waving to Yong Hwa over their shoulders. I look around the room at the displaced equipment and tools, marveling at how much room a mere four people can take up in the world. I guess that’s what you get with musicians—larger than life personalities. Jung Yong Hwa is pretty good proof of that. He looks up at me with his hands folded across his chest. His eyes are gleaming with excitement.

“This’ll be our first sold out world tour,” he tells me. I can’t help but smile at how happy he sounds. Like a little boy who got everything he wanted for his birthday.

“It’s kind of cute how stoked you are,” I tell him.

“Oh?” he says, “I’m cute to you, now?”

“Sure,” I saw, sitting down on the side of his bed, “You could say that.”

“Well I’ll be damned if this isn’t the best day in recent memory,” he says.

“You’re in the hospital,” I remind him.

“Still,” he says, reaching for my hand. Our fingers entwine on the bed sheet, and again I’m overcome by the warm sensation that gushes through me at our slightest contact. “Thanks for taking such good care of me,” he says.

“It’s...nothing,” I say, my words staggered. “I mean...It’s my job. To take care of people.”

“But st