BOSS | NCT

oo1

I practically only have seven days left to live.

That's equivalent to 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. Or let me be dramatic, 604,800 seconds.

Well, that's not even accurate anymore. 168 hours turned to 167.

I spent one hour washing my face, cleaning the kitchen, and eating breakfast with the rest of the Orphans.

We, Orphans, could hardly even consider this as food.

Jisung, our youngest, calls it something like dogshit.

I asked him what dogshit means but Renjun only silenced us, saying that it is inaccurate to talk about it while eating.

From the the other side of the table, I watch Donghyuck forking a huge piece of dry vegetable on his plate.

"Donghyuck, staring at the food won't make it transform into meat," I say.

Haechan drops his fork. His eyes are on me.

"Hell, Jeena. It tastes like decayed cheese"

"It tastes fucking normal to me, Donghyuck"

"You say 'fuck' a lot and don't even know what dogshit means," he replies, his face grumpy.

"Hey," Jaemin enters from upstairs, his eyes wet. I conclude that he just woke up. Among us, he's the heaviest sleeper and the most sickly one. I'm starting to suspect that he's also infected by the virus.

Oh, God, hopefully not.

"Breakfast is served?" when he asked that, I can see him rubbing his tummy. He's hungry, all right.

"Nah. This is not breakfast. This is who-finishes-the-dogshit-is-the-winner contest," Donghyuck says, looking at me. "And we have Jeena as the winner. As always,"

"Donghyuck, shut up," Jeno warns.

"No, I wouldn't shut up. Don't act blind, people," Donhyuck 'tsks', standing up from his seat.

He shouts at everyone in the table but his eyes are lasered on me.

Everyone stops eating.

"Jeena will be leaving us soon! She's fucking dying and will be leaving us in this hellhole!" he says, the bitter truth stinging us all. The rest of the Orphans stared downwards at the table, affected by Donghyuck's painful reminder.

"I am not leaving you, Donghyuck," I say, though I know it's a lie. Because I'll be leaving them very soon and there's no chance that I'll survive. "I'm trying my best to live. I am trying to find a way to be normal again. The cure can stop the virus. We can still be together---"

He snorts. Scratches his head.

"To hell with that," he points a finger at me. I've never felt so threatened and ashamed. "You," he says and every second is killing me. "You are accepting your death, Jeena. Finding a cure? Be together with us? Fuck that!" he slams the table. "You are not living, you're dying. But you act like there's nothing wrong. You live like a normal person. You still share the table with us. You eat more than we do. You take long baths like a teenage girl. You act human! You're accepting death like it's your fate! And it is fucking pissing me off!"