It was a misty summer afternoon. The rains plucked right into the large windowpanes as it trickles down, completely covering up the vast views of the skyscrapers.
A heart monitor beeps in motion. A sick elderly man in his 70's was laying down on the bed with two huge tubes that were attached to his nose, breathing hoarsely while still clinging in to the possible signs of life. That was Gary Met, whom he had gotten himself lung cancer that was in the fourth stage.
Jack was laying his hand onto his father's. He looks at him idly as he patiently watched him deteriorate before his very own eyes. He silently reeled on the possible consequences that might be happening next; although he'd somehow reigned on the hope that he'll might be better.
In the other corner of the room, his brothers was standing by the door, reasonably talking to a doctor whom they kindly explains what goes on to some planned operation that could somehow save their father's life. Their talk has gone on for almost a minute, or possibly even more longer than what he'd expected.
The speaker mildly rang out from the corridors, while other nurses walk up past them, carrying and pulling over things that he'll might never bother.
"Come on, Dad." Jack thought, as if he was winging in on a unbiased prayer.
He glanced up to see his eldest brother, Adam, whom he was slowly tearing up from the endless choices that he'll might have to make. His eyes were staring at the doctor, carefully processing out the words they said to him. He could probably tell that he was stressed out, not just because he was obtaining himself from saying anything other than just to absorb every given word stated in the papers. If he would've just wished that he would instantly cure cancer.
Beside him was his second eldest brother, Ryan. The erratically-smart man who barely knows everything in music (or at least he claimed himself to be). Usually he'd rather immerse his mind into making some music for their upcoming album. But instead, he fondly found himself in the room with his father being surrounded by the tubes that was attached to him.
Armed with his cellphone, he messaged his bandmates over as he gives out an update on whatever the state of his father's illness was now while rambing out a tweet that could somehow explain all of mess happening in their lives.
Jack sighed at the sight of them, barely witnessing his brothers' expressions on their faces. And from the way he had seen it, Jack could never tell if the doctors had just gave them a second to let them decide on the possible procedures. Unless if they suddenly had given a word about his father's sickness being too incurable.
Leaving those horrid thoughts behind, he trailed his eyes back to his father. For a moment, he tried to reel himself back onto the same hope he'd had. And with a silent prayer, he generously prayed for a miracle that would somehow help his father get through the sickness.
As time passed on, the monitor continuously beeps over as Jack heavily watched the lines bounce in-sync to his fatal heartbeat. He heavily counted them in his mind, slowly observing how the lines had spiked throughout the screen while managing to keep his emotions from bursting out.
"Get better soon, Dad." he sadly thought, gently rubbed his father's hand as a way that he'd somehow calm himself upon his touch.
He stared back at him, frowning at the horrendous sight of him. Jack couldn't almost imagine how his father looked now than what he has before. Not to mention his skin was almost as pale as his own, and his face looks all dampened up from the past chemotherapy sessions he'd took.
