I have to miss BTS's movie because my stupid work took away my weekend off.

...

Dear Chanyeol,

Sorry for not replying for a couple weeks. Contrary to popular belief, I am not purposely ignoring you. I've been sick. One thing they never mention right away is simple childhood diseases suddenly turn life threatening. Someone brought a cold with them. It felt like my insides were rotting for several days.

On a happier note, my dad paid a visit this week. He looked pretty funny dressed in half a hazmat suit, but my nurse wasn't taking any chances. Couldn't let me get any sicker. He smuggled in my old 3DS. While I have plenty to do here, having a little taste of home always makes this more bearable.

You probably think my room is white and pristine and completely devoid of life don't you? Not exactly. It's clean. But my walls are light blue. My ceiling is white though. I have many plush things on my bed. Stuffed animals and blankets and pillows. There's a small rocking chair by the window where I can sit and look at the traffic passing by. Or look out at the moon on a clear night. I have pictures hanging up. Photos and drawn ones. Pictures from other kids in my wing. My window has curtains with clouds on them. It's kind of nice. It's not home. Not by any means. But it's enough.

Sorry to unload all this emotional baggage on you. I'm sure this is exactly what you want to hear. But whereas you don't have a way with words, I tend to spew them out like my mouth has no filter. And I don't really get to talk with people my own age much. Most of them are too... Let's say sad about their situation. It's hard to make friends when your outcome in life is a six foot hole.

I'll think about your proposal, but remember, we hardly know each other. I don't even know what you look like. I have guesses in my head obviously, but it's all speculation right now. Maybe some day we can meet up. But not now. I... I want to feel a bit better first. I don't want your first impression of me to be sickly. Granted, these days it's hard to "feel better" but if I don't at least try to fight what's the point? The doctors are doing all they can. It would be a shame if I just gave up on myself.

Well. I guess that's all I got for you this time. I'd better get going. Chemo starts soon and all that. Talk to you later.

Sincerely, Byun Baekhyun.

...

Baekhyun gazed at his reflection in the mirror, tears streaming down his gaunt cheeks. His hair... The last remaining thing he really had of his life before and it was finally gone. Rotted away and falling off in great chunks. He pulled the cap low over his ears, wishing, not for the first time, that he could just disappear and forget this nightmare was even happening.

He sat in the rocking chair next to the window, his DS in one hand and his favorite stuffed bear in the other. All comforts from home, a place that felt farther away than ever. He wanted his mom and dad here. He wanted Baekyeom. But both his parents had to keep working in order to pay off medical bills they were so far behind on. So a lot of days it was Baekhyun by himself, experiencing things all alone. He dabbed at his eyes, opening his DS and starting a round of Smash Bros. But he found it hard to concentrate.

Chanyeol went to high school. What was it like? Baekhyun hadn't even graduated middle school yet. It was hard to keep up on school work when your daily battle was inside yourself. At first he'd tried. He didn't want to leave his friends behind. But soon he fell farther and farther behind, as treatment picked up and his energy faded faster and faster. Was Chanyeol in any clubs? Did he have hobbies? Baekhyun himself always loved singing, and wanted to participate in the singing club as he got older. But that kind of took a back seat to everything going on now.

"Baekhyun sweetie?" a warm voice called. A familiar one. Baekhyun squeezed his eyes shut and rocked a little harder. "I know you hate this," Nurse Choi said, crouching besides his chair. "But you're still severely dehydrated. We have to give it to you."

"Hurts..." Baekhyun whispered, already feeling the dull ache where the needle would pierce his flesh. Both his arms were covered in ugly, dark splotches where they poked and prodded him day in and day out, his once tanned skin now a hauntingly white color. His nurse sighed.

"I know sweetie," she replied. "But this will make you feel better. I promise." Lies. All lies. It never made him feel better. Any of it. All it did was remind him that something was so wrong with him that it would never be right. It reminded him that he probably wouldn't live to see his eighteenth birthday. He gasped as the needle was inserted, blinking away tears and biting his lip. "Good boy," his nurse praised. "Call if you need anything, okay?" Baekhyun nodded, watching as she walked off, probably having a million other things to worry about.

He set his DS aside, instead picking up the two letters from Chanyeol, skimming them again and again. This was the closest he'd allowed himself to get to someone in awhile. The thought kind of terrified him. He'd raised his walls for a reason. He didn't want their sympathy. He didn't want their pity. He wanted someone who would look at him and not see anything different or wrong. Was that too much to ask?

He abadoned the rocking chair in favor of walking around, dragging the IV with him. He paused at his mirror once again, his fingers flying up to touch the place his hair once occupied. He sighed, moving on instead of dwelling on it any longer. Crying about it wouldn't bring his hair back. It wouldn't bring his family back. It wouldn't return his life to the way it was before. Nothing would.

He thought over Chanyeol's offer. It was the first time someone said they wanted to meet him since he arrived at the hospital, and honestly it felt kind of good. Made him feel at least a little normal. It was tempting. But he really didn't know this kid. He was also older. He didn't want to disappoint himself. He didn't want to disappoint Chanyeol when he didn't live up to expectations. He couldn't bring himself to do it. At least not yet. Not when he was feeling weak and wrong and not himself.

...

These chapters really do vary. I predict they'll get longer as the story goes on.