Jinyoung would sometimes text me. It was never frequent or consistent, but there were some texts here or there about how he was doing or what he was doing. Our conversations were never long either. I guess there was really nothing to talk about. He was off dealing with a family problem and I was just living like how I had done before. But that day changed everything.

          It was about five weeks after Jinyoung had left, almost a month and a half. I was just living my life as I always did, the way I did before I met him, the way I kind of did after I had.

          The day was bright and sunny. Spring was already underway and in the blink of an eye it would be summer and then another year will pass. I didn’t know where the time had went, what had happened to it. The time that I had known Jinyoung seemed to be short, but it was long. I didn’t feel like I had known him for almost seven months. Almost an entire year with Jinyoung.

          I walked into the hospital that day not knowing anything, not expecting anything. I just went there with the purpose of visiting my mother whose health report I had received last week. The doctor told me that my mother was weak and growing weaker by the day and he wasn’t very certain on how much time she actually had left. Therefore I had taken more time out of my days to spend time with her. No matter how much I hated her ways of living and my childhood, she was my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, she would always be important.

          “Where is that boyfriend of yours?” she asked that day.

          “He said that he had some family issues going on and that he had to head to England for a bit to visit with his sister,” I told her. It was the story he told me. The story that I believed.

          “Ah, that’s a shame, he’s such a nice boy,” she said with a faint smile. I had noticed that her voice was weaker than before and it seemed that she got tired quicker.

          “He is,” I sighed in agreement.  I didn’t stay for long after that since I had picked up an extra shift at the restaurant and I had to go home and change into my uniform before making my way out.

          I passed through the lobby with all of the people walking back and forth, doctors and nurses with places to be, worried family members, and the occasional patient. I heard it right as soon as I walked out of the front doors. I heard the faint guitar melody and while it didn’t register at first that I had heard that same melody before, it drew me in. I found myself following the sound to see where it was coming from. It was probably just curiosity. The guitar sounded nice and I was curious as to who was playing it, why they were playing it. The answer turned out to be something I would have never imagined because it was him.

          He was sitting on a bench with children sitting around him intently watching him as he played like I had done so many times before. He wore a hospital gown with a blue beanie situated on top of his head and the guitar placed gently in his lap. His thin fingers plucked at the strings and he had a smile on his face as he looked at the children that were enjoying his playing.

          I don’t know how long I stood there and I don’t entirely know what I was thinking, but I was probably confused and it was probably written all over my face. He didn’t see me, though, for a long while. I may have been standing there for two minutes or I may have been standing there for five, I wasn’t sure. But before he started playing again he slowly looked up and saw me staring right at him. It looked like he was starting to make an effort to stand up, but I immediately started to run and ran all the way back home.

          I breathlessly reached the front door and leaned against the outside wall as I thought about what I just saw. Jinyoung wasn’t in England, he was in Korea. He was in a hospital gown, wearing a hat, something he never wore, and was in Korea. That meant that he lied to me, but why would he lie? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to spend time figuring it out.

          That afternoon, the entire time I was at work, I kept busy in order to ignore the sight that I saw at the hospital, to ignore the guitar melody that I heard. I didn’t want to think about it, but the more I tried not to, the more I did, but that was probably a given.

          When I returned home that night I discovered that it wasn’t the fact that Jinyoung was in the hospital that bothered me, it was the fact that he lied to me. It probably hurt me and I probably felt hurt inside, but I didn’t really register it. Was betrayal something common to feel? I felt betrayed by Jinyoung for not telling me the truth, for me trusting him with my past and the story about my mother and he not finding the same trust in me. Did that mean that I was the one who was deeper in the relationship then? Did that mean that I was the one who liked him more? Who trusted him more?

          But then I remembered the look on his face when he saw me. It was one of shock, of horror and maybe he was making a move to come over and explain it to me, but I didn’t want to hear it. I was the one who ran away.

          There was not much sleep to be had that night and for the following nights. I felt just like I had when I first met Jinyoung and I was confused by his words. I was confused by his actions, confused by his presence at the hospital, and wanted answers, but I didn’t want to go there again. Maybe he would try to seek me out knowing that I would visit my mother, but then there was also the possibility of him hiding now because I saw him.

          It was a night full of studying, of trying to make my brain concentrate on something else. That was when there was a knock at my door. I ignored it for a long time, though. No one ever knocked on my door, no one ever came to visit me. I didn’t have friends and no one knew where I lived anyway, no one but Jinyoung.

          The knocking persisted, though, but this time there was a voice calling my name. A familiar voice. Shinwoo’s voice. “Minyoung! Minyoung! Please open the door!” he called between knocks.

          I dropped my pencil on my books and stared the printed words that didn’t make any sense as my mind wondered how Shinwoo knew where I lived. Only one name popped into my mind. Jinyoung told him. Did that mean that Shinwoo already knew everything about Jinyoung? Did the other guys know what was up with him? As if out of the blue one of the sentences that Shinwoo said entered my brain. It was the night that the other guys were told of Jinyoung and my relationship. That night Shinwoo asked if Jinyoung was sure about it, about our relationship. Shinwoo knew whatever was going on with Jinyoung.

          I cautiously got up off of the chair at my desk and went to the front door. I didn’t see Shinwoo at first, I noticed him after I looked around. His head lifted when he heard the door creek open some more and he looked at me with a faint smile on his lips.

          I wanted to ask him why he was there, I wanted to ask him all about Jinyoung, but I couldn’t find my voice. I didn’t have the courage to ask those questions that I desperately wanted to know the answers to, but didn’t want to, at the same time. He must have felt my hesitation, my need to want answers because he spoke first. “Jinyoung doesn’t know I’m here,” was all he said and that was enough for me to confirm what I had known, that was definitely Jinyoung at the hospital.

          Moments of silence passed between us before Shinwoo asked me to join him on the wooden platform, but I declined. It was more comfortable to stand, to keep my distance. Maybe I thought that keeping a distance would help to keep a distance from the reality that I was about to come face to face with.

          “How did you find out where I lived?” I cautiously asked.

          “I got the information out of Jinyoung.”

          “But he doesn’t know that you’re here.”

          “He doesn’t,” Shinwoo said shaking his head. “Look, Minyoung, I want to talk with you for a couple of minutes. Do you have the time?”

          I looked into the door and saw my open book on the desk and then I looked over to see Shinwoo sitting on the wooden platform. As much as I didn’t want to hear what Shinwoo might say, I wanted to hear it. I wanted to know what he wanted to tell me. It had to be about Jinyoung, I was certain of it. Was I ready to hear about it, though?

          I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. “Give me a minute,” I finally said and went inside to turn off the light, grab my eyes, and close the door. When I returned outside I sat down next to Shinwoo and looked at him. “Alright. I have some time.”