✓ BECAUSE WE WERE YOUNG | NIKI

18 - You've Lit Your Cigarette

"Why didn't you tell me?" My father sits in the living room as I stand across from him, struggling to find the right words to explain why I kept the truth about my deteriorating health from him. I can tell he's angry and hurt and disappointed, but I don't find it in me to meet his gaze. Instead, I fidget with the hem of my shirt, my fingers tracing the familiar fabric. 

How can I explain to him the weight of the burden I've been carrying, the fear that's been gnawing at my insides like a relentless beast? How can I tell him that I didn't want to shatter the fragile peace he's found, that I didn't want to burden him with the knowledge that his only daughter is slowly slipping away? "Dad, I know you've been through so much already, losing Mom and all... I didn't want to add to your pain. I didn't want you to worry about me any more than you already do."

"You don't get to decide how much I worry about you, Y/N," He raises his voice but somehow his words are so full of warmth. "You're my daughter. Your well-being is my priority, regardless of how much it hurts me to see you struggling. If you wouldn't even tell me that you're in pain, what am I supposed to do? You shutting me out like this only makes things harder for both of us-"

"Then what do you want me to do?" It's my turn to raise my voice because I don't know any other way to tell him just how much I've been struggling. "Do you want me to burden you with the knowledge that I'm dying? Do you want to watch helplessly as I wither away, just like Mom did? Do you want to see the fear in my eyes every time I struggle to breathe? Because that's what I've been trying to hide from you!"

"Y/N, we're a family and we stick together-"

"I'm dying!" The words feel like knives stabbing into my chest as they escape my lips. "Why are we arguing about something that neither of us can change? Dad, I love you, but you can't fix this. No one can. Not even the doctors. I'm dying and no one can stop it." 

My father's shoulders sag, his expression weary as he stares at me. I don't expect him to respond immediately, knowing that my words have hit him hard. We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, my confession like a dark fog surrounding us. "I couldn't do anything to save your mother," He finally says, his voice more raspy than usual. "Don't make me go through that guilt again, Y/N. Don't let me lose you without being there for you." I don't know what to say to that. No, I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to apologize, to tell him about just how scared and terrified I am. But the words stick in my throat, choked back by the overwhelming fear and sadness that seem to haunt me like the most beautiful yet painful poem ever written. 

Without saying a word, I grab my oxygen tank and make my way outside, not really aware of where I'm heading. It's afternoon and the world is bathed in golden as the sun sets. I'm walking and walking, yet where? I don't know. All I know is that I need space, and the world around me is not nearly enough. 

The sun dips lower in the sky as I find myself next to a gas station, watching the cars come and go, life suddenly feeling like a movie that's about to end. I don't know what I'm supposed to do next, so I just sit there on the curb, the sound of engines humming and tires rolling on asphalt making me feel strangely detached from reality. "What are you doing here, kid?" The familiar voice pulls me out of my trance before I look to my side to find Heeseung standing there, staring at me like I'm some sort of lost soul. I hadn't even realized he was here until he spoke, and I find myself at a loss for words. 

"I... I needed some air," I reply lamely, not sure what else to say. Why is he even here? Isn't he supposed to be in Hope Haven, making his delicious ramen for the others? Yet, here he is, standing beside me at a random gas station, looking at me with both concern and curiosity. "What are you-"

"I work here." He simply days and pushes himself from the wall before he walks towards the car that approaches the station. "Good afte-"

"Full. Be quick," interrupts the driver even before Heeseung could greet me. The smile on his face almost drops and I watch as he quietly nods, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. Without another word, he turns to attend to the customer, his movements quick but lacking the usual warmth I've come to associate with him. When he's done, I hope that the customer at least thanks him or acknowledges his service only to watch the driver throw the money from the window and drive away. Heeseung stares at the car that moves away and then at the money that rests on the ground. For a moment, I think he won't pick it up. I think his pride is too bruised to stoop to such a level. But to my surprise, he bends down and picks up the money, his expression unreadable as he shoves it into his pocket. He doesn't meet my eyes as he returns to his spot against the wall, his posture tense and defensive.

"Don't look at me like that." He mutters and I give a small start, realizing I've been staring at him, lost in my own thoughts. "Like what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. He scoffs softly, his gaze fixed on the ground as if he's searching for answers in the cracks of the pavement.

"Like I'm some sort of charity case," He replies bitterly and my lips twitch into a bitter smile. 

"My doctor said I'm likely to die soon. My lungs are failing me and I guess I only have a few months left to live," I blurt out, surprising even myself with the sudden confession. Heeseung's head snaps up, his eyes widening in shock as he stares at me, his expression morphing into one of disbelief and concern. "Don't look at me like I'm some sort of charity case, Heeseung." When I repeat his earlier words, he seems to deflate. 

"Is that why you come to Hope Haven?" He whispers, his voice barely audible over the hum of passing cars. I nod hesitantly, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of him. "I'm sorry to... I'm just sorry. Can't they do something to help you? To... save you?"

"My mother died because of the same illness I have. I knew no one could save me the moment I was diagnosed with it. And I guess it's just a matter of time before it takes me too." 

"You sound like you've given up," When I glance at him, he's putting a cigarette between his lips. I almost scoff at the fact that I'm telling him about my lungs not functioning properly, while he smokes. I'm here struggling to breathe, and there he is, willingly inhaling smoke into his lungs. 

"Are you serious?" I hear myself ask incredulously, my voice barely above a whisper as I stare at Heeseung in disbelief. "That's disgusting. Do you think it's cool to willingly damage your own lungs? I'm telling you I'm going to die and you just... you just ruined the whole thing. Let me tell you, not being able to breathe really sucks." 

"I don't smoke, kid," Heeseung interrupts, holding up the unlit cigarette between his fingers. "It doesn't actually hurt you unless you light it. And I don't. Look, you put the thing that kills you right between your lips and don't give it the power to harm you. It's a metaphor, really. We all have our own cigarettes, our own ways of self-destructing. Mine just happens to be this." He gestures to the cigarette before tossing it aside, unlit. 

I blink, processing his words slowly. He's right, in a twisted sort of way, and I can't help but smile even though the last thing I feel like doing is smiling. "You're ridiculous. When did you learn this?"

Heeseung chuckles softly, a hint of self-deprecation in his laughter. "You pick up a thing or two when you spend enough time watching the world go by." The two of us are wrapped in silence for a moment as we watch the sun dip lower into the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant orange and pink.

"I have," I admit quietly, making Heeseung turn to me with a confused, yet curious expression. "You said I sound like I've given up. I have. It's hard not to when you know what's coming. I guess my cigarette is the knowledge that I'm dying."

"What about your friends?" He asks and I'm suddenly thinking of Niki, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. The four boys who stepped into my life and made it worth living. The four boys who, despite my impending ending, continue to bring light into my world. "Do they know you've already given up on life? Did you tell them that you're dying or are they going to learn the news when you're long gone and it's too late?" When I don't respond and just stare at the ground, Heeseung gently nudges me with his elbow. "You've lit your cigarette and it's burning the life out of you. Put it out before there's nothing left but ashes."