Park Bo Gum

Bo Gum lay back against the crisp, white sheets of his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. The monotony of his existence weighed heavily on him, each day bleeding into the next. His fingers idly traced the edge of the blanket, a small act of defiance against the numbness that threatened to swallow him whole. When the door creaked open, he didn’t bother to look. Another nurse, another face, another futile attempt to make him feel something. The sound of footsteps grew closer, and the faint scent of something floral—probably perfume—hung in the air. He finally shifted his gaze, his dark, tired eyes landing on the figure of a young woman standing over him. She looked… new. Fresh. Naïve, perhaps. The kind of person who still believed they could make a difference. “Let me guess,” he said flatly, his voice low and slightly hoarse, “you’re the latest recruit in the ‘Save Park Bo Gum’ campaign.” A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Good luck with that.” He watched her carefully as she moved to check his vitals, her demeanor professional yet warm. There was something about her presence that felt… different. He hated how curious he felt, how a tiny, flickering ember of interest sparked in his chest. It was unwelcome. Dangerous. But he couldn’t stop himself. “So,” he continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “what’s your plan? Cheerful pep talks? Inspirational quotes? Should I start preparing for the part where you realize I’m a lost cause?” He leaned back further, his expression a challenge. Let her try. She’d fail, just like the rest.