“Jesus, he looks bad.”

“He’s a lucky man to still be alive....”

“You know, he’s pretty cute from his bio picture.”

“Doctor, will you please focus?”

Wait, who thinks I’m cute? The lavender lightning streak veins coursing through the delicate skin of Namjoon’s eyelids folded backwards to reveal curious brown irises.

“Doctor, he’s awake!”

From what he could decipher during the last few seconds of the unconsciousness that had somehow befallen him, there were three other people in the room. One female and two males. But before he could regain his senses and will his hands to move or voice to work in hopes of communicating his confusion to them, a blinding light shined in his eyes. It moved, like a metronome, from one pupil to the next, enlarging them. He remained silent, letting the fuzzy yet feminine silhouette of the doctor finish her diagnosis. The click of the flashlight dangling from a lanyard around her neck was heard soon enough, followed by the musical bells of her voice.

“Kim Namjoon, hello. I’m Dr. Han. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he croaked, craving the tingling elixir of life commonly referred to as “water”. He his lips, believing his saliva to be sufficient in sustaining the chapped surface until he received a tall glass of water. Even better, a tank of water.

Dr. Han tucked a section of her short brunette hair behind her ear, exposing an ostentatious diamond earring. She was sitting on the foot of his hospital cot, the tail of her white coat inches away from his bandaged feet, a shiny tablet resting on her lap. She was young, slender with a round face and even rounder eyes lined with a thick set of lashes. She seemed more like a hip fashion student than a doctor.

“Namjoon, I’d like you to meet two members of my staff.” She gestured to the two males behind her. “Jimin is your physical therapist, while Jin...actually I don’t know what Jin is doing here.”

“I belong here, Doctor. I’ve explained numerous times that I accidentally checked the box for 'Interested in working with children' when I applied here.” The broad-shouldered raven-haired one on the left said before turning to Namjoon and pasting a beaming smile on his face. An apple-shaped sticker attached to the pocket of his turquoise smock indicated that he was an intern. “Anyway, my name is Jin, and I’m happy to see you’ve been doing a lot better! Keep up the good work, soldier!”

“Jin, I’ll tell you what. If you take care of Namjoon well enough, I’ll sign your request of transfer,” Dr. Han stated.

“Really? This is the best day ever!” Jin jumped for joy and promised to grant any of Namjoon’s requests, to which the latter said: “A glass of water, please.”

Behind the curtain encapsulating Namjoon’s bed was a cart containing a pitcher of ice-cold water and various snacks, namely jello cups. The intern shakily poured the liquid into a paper cup and brought it to his first adult patient’s lips, squealing when it was drained almost instantly. Namjoon chuckled, deciding to revel in the ambition he displayed rather than pointing out how his dialogue was an obvious result of the time spent in the children's wing.

Come to think of it; Jin, Jimin, and Dr. Han all seemed to possess high levels of ambition despite being no more than their early twenties, not much older than Namjoon himself. Any other patient would have been concerned over this observation because with age comes experience, especially in the medical field, but not him because this just meant he would have a higher chance of befriending people during his stay here. But where was here exactly?

“Excuse me, what is the name of this hospital?” he asked.

“Seoul City Hospital, about ten minutes away from the new Seoul City University in Gangnam,” Jimin, the unnaturally ginger physical therapist dressed in a white T-shirt and trackpants opposite Jin answered enthusiastically.

Namjoon relayed his thanks, and Dr. Han proceeded to ask him a series of simple questions to jog his memory, recording his answers using the tablet.

“Could you please tell me what year it is?” she began.

“2015.”

“When is your birth date?”

“September 12, 1994.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from Seoul, but I was born in Goyang, north of Seoul.”

“Girlfriend?”

He quirked an eyebrow. This isn’t a question doctors usually asked patients. Right? “I...um don’t have one at the moment.”

“Interesting.” She didn’t bother typing the last response in and closed the leather cover to the tablet. “Kim Namjoon, you’ve been unconscious for three days due to the multitude of injuries you’ve sustained. Do you remember what happened to you? What kind of accident you had?”

“I...think I was at a park trying to sell my mixtapes. I’m working as a freelance rapper, you see.” He paused. “It’s kind of hard for me to remember.”

“Please try. We have a lot of time,” she replied, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. His heart leapt at the tender, intimate contact.

Jimin cleared his throat in disapproval. “Doctor…”

“Yes, Jimin?”

His eyes flickered to their interlocked hands, but Dr. Han only blinked at him. He slowly began to to retreat to the door. “I’ll give you two some space and will be back later to check on progress.” He yanked on Jin’s sleeve. “Come on, intern. Let’s go check on the two troublemakers in room 69.”

When they were gone, Namjoon tried his hardest to visualize