Our Summer || SOOBIN TXT

Song Of A Broken Record: Intro

I open the door to my bedroom. The sunlight pours through the open window, basking the room in light. It has been two weeks since I woke up from the coma. A long two weeks. I look at my bed, it was neatly made and empty for more than a month. The thought lingers in my mind, I have been gone for a month. So much must have happened around me.

"Mia."

I turn around. My father stands in the doorway, a somber expression clouding his face.

"I've notified my employer that I would be taking a week's leave, so that I could look after you during your recovery."

I shake my head. "You don't have to dad, you might miss out on important work."

"Nonsense, you are my first priority. Your health and safety is more important to me than my work."

I nod. "Thank you dad."

He is about to leave but hesitates. "Your friend, Jeff, wanted to know if he could come to visit tomorrow, to see how you're doing."

How I'm doing. I look at my hands, still fully cast in bandages.

"I'm a bit tired." I say.

"Yes, of course. I'll let you get some rest then." He closes the door.

Silence fills my bedroom. I sigh heavily and sit down on my bed. As I look out of the window I catch a dove flying by. The sight surfaces a memory. Wings. The image of a boy with large white wings like an angel. Where did that memory come from? The thought causes me to scoff. If guardian angels truly do exist I would not have been in this situation right now. I would not have lost the only ability to sooth the rising anxiety and depression, the only escape. My hands feel limp against my sides, useless tools. If I was not already broken before, I sure am shattered now.

•••

I jolt awake. Sleeping is no good. I thought it could be a way to pass time so that I do not have to live this nightmare.

"Wow, you've looked worse."

I look to my doorway where Jeff stands, casually leaning against the door frame.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he walks towards my study and takes a seat. "Your dad let me in."

"Oh."

"So, I applied at a university," he leans forward. "I guess I'll be staying here for longer than I thought."

"Good for you," I nod.

"He said you'd be grouchy."

"What?"

"Nothing," Jeff shakes his head. "Let's watch a movie?"

"I'm not in the mood," I mummer.

He sighs. "Mia." I look at him. "You shouldn't be doing this to yourself."

"Doing what Jeff?" I ask.

"Giving up," he moves closer. "You. . . survived Mia, by some miracle you survived that accident. You have to keep going, keep living."

"What do you think I'm doing?" I say, my voice venomously dripping with sarcasm.

"Since you've woken up, you've been backbiting everyone," he frowns. "I know it was something tragic that happened to you but you shouldn't push away those who care for you Mia. You should be happy you're still alive."

"Happy?" I laugh. "What is there to be happy about Jeff? I lost myself in that accident." I raise my hands. "I lost the reason I breath! What is the use of still being alive if I won't be able to play any damn instrument!" The tears fall.

He moves over to my bed, enclosing me in a hug. "What's the use?" I whimper.

The hug feels familiar, this comfort. I have felt it before.

I would make it my mission to always keep you safe and happy.

The angel, the boy from my dreams. Why did I dream of that? What was its meaning? I close my eyes. I do not care, I want the dream back, I want that world back. Jeff gently lays me down and I feel him brush a hand across my hair.

"If only you knew how much I worry about you," he whispers.

I hear him get up and walk away.

"I'm sorry Jeff," my father apologises.

"That's okay Mr Park, we all knew this might be how she'd react," Jeff sighs. "We just have to be patient."

"I suppose so, yes."

The bedroom door closes and silence engulfs my room once again. I breath, three heartbeats, and sit up. I am so sick and tired of these worthless tears. My heart squeezes at the memory of the boy I promised to forget. Soobin. I was right, falling for a celebrity is just a bad omen. I am so stupid, I should have learned from what my mother did. I should have shielded off my heart completely.

He did not even run after me.

The pain clogs my throat. Of course he would not Mia. He would not risk his entire career and fame to run after you, a sobbing heartbroken mess. The feeling is new to me, being heartbroken by a boy. I look at my hands, their broken state. Loving is cruel, it is completely sinister. I lay back down against my pillow. I do not need anyone if I have him. I am his mission, his happiness.

My Night Angel.

I close my eyes. Please meet me there, in the garden where we first met.