ethereal | park jimin | ✓

chapter 5 panic! at the waffle station

The clatter of the wheelchair against the tile floors makes me feel like a train, screeching across the tracks. I feel the eyes of every passing person on me with looks of mild curiosity and sympathy. I shrink into myself to avoid their eyes and double-check my patient's gown to make sure it covers everything. Its thin white fabric makes me self-conscious and I wish I could change into my normal clothes.

Unfortunately, my normal clothes are covered with blood.

Even if I did have a change of clothes, I worry it may hurt too much to put on.

I wish I didn't have to use the wheelchair, but on account of my bruised rib, they decided to be safe rather than sorry. Not only that, my constant state of dizziness would make it difficult for me to walk anyway.

We come to the end of the hallway and wait for the elevator to arrive. I flip my phone over in my hand as I wait, already bored. I don't check for any notifications, worrying that the screen may worsen my headache. I have the phone set to full volume to avoid checking it over and over again out of nervous habit.

"So..." Namjoon begins, still holding onto the wheelchair handles, "you mentioned you are a college student. What's your major?"

The elevator finally arrives and he pushes me inside. "I'm a business major now," I answer with a note of pride. "I was undecided for a while but I kind of like business so I'm trying it out."

"That's cool, are you thinking about starting your own business or...?"

"I'm not sure yet," I admit. "I'm still working out the details."

"College is the best time to figure things out," Namjoon adds, reaching over to press the button. He stands beside the wheelchair and offers me a small smile. "I went to nursing school, and when I graduated I decided to adopt a hybrid."

I blink in surprise. "You adopted a hybrid?"

He nods though his expression is tense, a bit anxious. "Yeah. He's wonderful. His name is Seokjin, he's a sheep hybrid. Sometimes I bring him to the hospital to meet with the elderly patients during Free Time. He's a bit wild but he has a huge heart for helping people."

It takes a moment for me to realize he's being defensive because of the discrimination against hybrids. I see anti-hybrid protests on the news at all hours of the day. They claim hybrids are abominations. A symbol of scientists trying to play God and ruin human biology for their selfish and sexual desires.

It's sickening to watch them jeer and attack hybrids and their caregivers. Sometimes I wonder if the creation of hybrids was worth it in the end. For all of this political unrest and violence, was it worth revealing hybrids to the public?

Regardless of that, hybrids should be treated with utmost respect and love because they are breathing. It doesn't matter what the public thinks they are. They are alive and living on this earth with everybody else; they are not different from us aside from a pair of ears and a tail.

"He sounds lovely," I answer warmly. "How old is he?"

"Oh..." Namjoon's gaze softens, noting my encouragement, and he smiles awkwardly. "He's older than me, actually. But he certainly doesn't act like it. He's a ball of energy."

"That's so sweet."

"If you're here for a couple of days, I could bring him in and you could meet him," he suggests happily.

"That would be great!"

The elevator doors reopen and I am temporarily blinded by the sunlight shining through the large glass windows in the lobby. I drop my head in pain and shield my eyes against the head-splitting light. Namjoon pushes me out of the elevator and towards the cafeteria doors on the other side of the room.