Author's POV
The sterile confines of the hospital room felt like a tomb. Wonwoo stared at the rhythmic rise and fall of Melody's chest, the machine monitoring her vital signs his only solace. Sleep had become a stranger, replaced by a relentless replay of the scene that had shattered their world. The screech of brakes, the sickening thud, Melody's lifeless form sprawled on the asphalt – it played on a loop in his mind, a constant torment.
The guilt was a physical weight, a suffocating shroud that choked the air from his lungs. Every flicker of the monitor felt like a silent accusation. Had he checked his phone more often? Had he noticed the subtle changes in Melody's demeanor? The questions gnawed at him, each unanswered one a fresh wave of self-loathing.
His bandmates became a blur of worried faces and hushed whispers. Dino, who looked like a shadow of himself, his eyes red-rimmed from silent tears. S.Coups, the ever-stoic leader, offered a hand on the shoulder or a sympathetic glance, but the words of comfort seemed hollow, unable to penetrate the thick wall of guilt that imprisoned Wonwoo.
One afternoon, amidst the monotonous hum of the hospital machinery, a memory surfaced. It was a snippet from their first year of dating, a playful argument over who loved the other more. Melody, eyes sparkling with mischief, had declared, "If something ever happened to me, you'd blame yourself, wouldn't you?" He'd scoffed at the time, brushing it off as her silly dramatics. But now, the weight of her words settled on him with crushing force.
A sob escaped his lips, a raw sound that startled the dozing Dino awake. Wonwoo slumped in his chair, burying his face in his hands. "It's all my fault," he rasped, the words thick with despair. "If I hadn't been... if I'd just..."
Dino shuffled closer, placing a hesitant hand on Wonwoo's back. "Hyung," he said softly, "it's not your fault. It was an accident."
But the words rang hollow. Wonwoo knew better. The accident was a culmination of his own deceit, his selfish actions. He had broken her trust, shattered the fragile world they'd built together, and now, she lay here, a victim of his mistakes.
Days bled into weeks, each one marked by the tick-tock of the clock and the unwavering rhythm of the monitor. Wonwoo spent his days by Melody's bedside, pouring out his heart in whispered apologies that fell on deaf ears. He spoke of their plans for the future, of the song he'd been writing for her, a desperate attempt to connect with the woman he'd taken for granted.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, a tremor ran through Melody's hand. Wonwoo's heart leaped into his throat. Was it a sign? Was she coming back to him?
He grasped her hand, his touch light as a feather. Her eyes remained closed, but the tremor ceased. Tears welled up in his eyes, a flicker of hope battling against the ever-present guilt. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a second chance.
But even with the faint hope flickering within him, Wonwoo knew one thing for certain: the melody of their love, once sweet and carefree, would forever be tinged with the discordant notes of regret.
The tremor in Melody's hand offered a fragile lifeline, a flicker of hope in the suffocating darkness Wonwoo had been drowning in. As he sat vigil, his mind wandered, seeking solace in memories, both joyful and agonizing.
A flashback struck, vivid and unexpected. It was their first anniversary, a picnic under the cherry blossoms in a hidden park. Melody, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of sunshine, giggled as they chased each other through the falling pink petals. He remembered the warmth of her hand in his, the nervous flutter in his stomach as he confessed his love. It had been a simple yet perfect day, a testament to the pure joy their relationship had once brought them.
The memory dissipated, replaced by another, more recent and far less comforting. It was a week before the accident. Wonwoo, engrossed in composing a new rap verse, had barely glanced up when Melody entered the apartment. Her usual bright smile had been absent, replaced by a forced cheer that didn't reach her eyes. He'd brushed it off, attributing it to stress from work.
Shame washed over him in a bitter wave. How blind had he been? Now, with the cruel clarity of hindsight, he saw the subtle signs he'd missed – the way her smile faltered when he mentioned work, the lingering scent of another woman's perfume on his clothes, the way she seemed to withdraw into herself.
He squeezed Melody's hand, willing himself to transmit the apology trapped within him. In his head, he replayed a thousand scenarios where he confessed his infidelity, where they worked things out, where their love emerged stronger. But the reality of the situation mocked him.
Another memory surfaced, this one raw and painful. It was the afternoon he'd met the model in the coffee shop, a chance encounter that spiraled into a careless betrayal. He remembered the fleeting thrill of forbidden attraction, a stark contrast to the deep, abiding love he shared with Melody. Now, that thrill tasted like ashes in his mouth.
The guilt gnawed at him, a relentless monster devouring his sanity. He replayed the scene of the accident on a continuous loop. The image of Melody, a crumpled figure on the asphalt, haunted him. He should have been there, holding her hand, protecting her. Instead, he'd been consumed by his own selfish desires, leaving her vulnerable, exposed.
The night deepened, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the machines. Exhaustion tugged at him, but sleep offered no escape. The weight of his actions, the fear gripping his heart, kept him tethered to the chair beside Melody's bed. As dawn painted the sky a pale grey, a single tear escaped his eye, a silent testament to the symphony of regret now playing on repeat within him.
