✓ BECAUSE WE WERE YOUNG | NIKI

1 - Hope Haven

The car stops in front of a quaint, ivy-covered building with a welcoming sign that reads "Hope Haven Community Center." I let out a heavy sigh and look away from my father who adjusts his tie and clears his throat as if he's about to give a presentation. 

"Remember, Y/N, this is a great opportunity to meet people and maybe even find some new coping strategies," He says, his words carefully chosen. I've seen that look in his eyes before, the one that says he wishes he could do more to help me. But instead of making me feel better, it only makes me feel as if I'm a burden to him, as if my condition has robbed him of the carefree daughter he once had.

"I'm not depressed, Dad, I'm just sick," I mutter and open the door, carefully putting down the portable oxygen tank that keeps me breathing steadily. The scent of fresh flowers and a faint hint of coffee greet me as I step out of the car. "I don't even know why I need to be here. It's not like anyone can cure me." 

Dad's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently touch my shoulder. "I know, sweetheart. But sometimes, being around others who understand what you're going through can make a big difference."

I roll my eyes, not out of disrespect, but out of frustration. It's difficult to explain how it feels when your body betrays you, and people try to offer solutions that seem hopelessly out of reach. I don't respond, instead, I pick up my oxygen tank and walk toward the entrance of Hope Haven Community Center. 

My father follows suit, his polished shoes clicking against the pavement. He offers a gentle smile, the kind that's supposed to be reassuring, though it still feels like a heavy weight on my shoulders. I know he means well, but sometimes I wish he could understand that his optimism doesn't always match my reality.

We approach the front desk, where a friendly woman with a welcoming smile greets us. "Welcome to Hope Haven, you must be Y/N and Mr. Lee. We're so glad you could join us today," She says.

I take a deep breath, thankful for my portable oxygen supply, and follow the woman as she leads me to a room where people of all ages and backgrounds are engaged in various activities, from painting to knitting, and even a small group gathered around a table, singing joyfully. For a moment, I feel like I've stepped into a different world.

Pulling my oxygen tank through the door, I settle into a chair while my father waves at me from across the room, his smile never fading. He should be at work by now, but he still finds time to be here with me, and that realization warms my heart. I can't deny that his support means a lot to me, even if it sometimes feels like he's trying to fix something that can't be fixed.

I give him a faint smile and usher him to leave with a reassuring nod. He nods understandingly and mouths "I love you" before making his way to the exit. I sit there, feeling somewhat out of place while I stare at the piano that no one seems to be playing. The room is filled with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter, but it all feels distant to me, like I'm watching a movie of someone else's life.

Silently standing up, I make my way to the piano and sit down on the bench. My fingers hover over the keys, hesitating for a moment. I've always liked playing the piano, but after years of struggling with my health, I haven't had the chance to enjoy it as much. I miss the feeling of the smooth keys beneath my fingers and the melodies that used to flow effortlessly from my hands but I can't find it in me to start playing. Instead, I just sit there, lost in thought, my gaze fixed on the keys.

But my thoughts are interrupted when someone sits next to me, gently placing their fingers on the piano keys. Startled, I look to my side to find a stranger, a boy who makes my heart skip a beat. Or is it just my heart working a little too hard due to my condition?

His dark, tousled hair falls slightly over his eyes, and he wears a faded band t-shirt and worn jeans. He doesn't seem to notice my surprise as he begins to play a simple, haunting melody on the piano. The music flows from his fingers and fills the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. It's a beautiful song, one I've never heard before, and it feels as if he's been playing this song his whole life.

When the last note fades away, the room remains in hushed silence, as if everyone is waiting for something more. I watch as he opens his eyes and slowly withdraws his hands from the keys. "That was beautiful," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper, but he's already standing up and making his way out of the room. And I sit there, speechless, still caught in the lingering echoes of the haunting melody he had just played.

I'm not sure why he left so abruptly, but it's clear that he's not interested in conversation. And it's okay, I appreciate the music more than his words at this moment.

"Hey," I turn to look at whoever spoke and find three guys standing nearby, their faces filled with admiration for the pianist who had just left. "You're new here?"

"Yeah, I am," I reply, feeling a bit self-conscious as I adjust the tubing from my oxygen tank. "My dad thought it would be a good idea for me to come here, you know, meet people and stuff."

One of the guys smiles warmly. "Well, welcome to Hope Haven! I'm Jake, and these are my buddies, Sunghoon and Jay." They each offer a friendly wave. "It's a pretty chill place. Oh wow, I love this bag." He crouches down and points at the oxygen tank.

"Thank you. I actually made it myself. You know, to make it feel less medical." They smile at my words before my curiosity gets the best of me. "Who's the boy who was playing?" 

Sunghoon leans closer and whispers, "That's Niki. He's... well, he's deaf. Yeah, it's pretty incredible, right? He's been coming here for a while now. Man, he plays the piano like no one else."

"Deaf...?" I repeat, slightly frowning. 

"Yeah. No one talks to him because we don't know sign language so he always just plays the piano alone and spends his time in the garden. He's a bit of a loner, but we all respect his space," Sunghoon explains and I hesitantly nod. 

Maybe Dad is right. Maybe this place could be more fun than I initially thought.