'So, how did you and Jack met?' Corbyn asks the next day. We're sitting on the sofa. I'm reading a book, and he's just listening some music.

'We're childhood friends.' I say. 'I met him the first day I went to school. He was a few years older then me, but in lunch time, we always sat together and were talking. It was amazing. He was actually my only friend at that time. I was quite ugly. My hair was like rope, I had a ugly curl in my hair and I had a lot of freckles. Jack and I got along very well. When he went from elementary school to high school, I was extremely alone. But when I went to high school, he and I were always together. He always helped me with my homework and if we didn't have a school, we were always together.'

'That's so cute.' Corbyn smiles. I smile back to him.

℘

When I want to walk out the ladies room, I got pushed back. When I look up, I can see Jack. He locks the door and looks at me.

'W-What are you doing?' I stutter.

'Let's talk.' He says, turning his back to me. 'What are you doing here?'

'Well, when you're in the restroom, usually you have to-'

'That's not what I meant!' Jack hisses, slamming his hand on the wall beside my head, startling me. 'What. are. you. doing. here?'

'W-what?' I whimper. This boy in front of me, Is not the boy I used to know. The Jack I know, would never scare me like this.

'Why are you back? Why here? You're filthy rich! Your parents give you everything you want. You don't need to work. What are you doing here? You don't need to work here, you don't need to work at all!' I can't help to feel hurt because of those words. "Filthy rich." Are you serious?

'Maybe I don't want my parents money.' I say. 'I want to work by myself.''

'Still, why work here? You can look for a better job!' He says.

'You know. I-If you don't want me here, say it, instead of changing words.' I mumble.

'Why are you here, Nina?'

'Because you are here!' I say, with a shaky voice. Tears are forming in my eyes.

'What?' He asks in disbelief. I don't want to hold back anymore, I can't do this.

'I miss you.' I whisper. A tear rolls down my cheek. He steps backwards a few steps.

'Stop. Do not say that.' He says, shaking his head.

'Why?' I ask.

'Stop playing with my feelings. Everything is fine in my life now. Don't ruin it.' He says.

A stab in the hard. That hurts really bad.

'I'm sorry...' I whisper softly. 'I know I hurt you a lot. I left without explanation. B-but, let me make it right.'

'After two years you're coming back.' He says. 'Expecting that I will forgive you, but I won't Nina. It's to late now.' 

'Jack, please! I'm so-'

'You're two years late for that.'

I look in his eyes. He hates me. He hates me a lot. And I deserve that. I know I deserve that.

'Look I'm not here to ruin things for you. I'm here because I want to apologize. And I won't stop until you forgive me.' I pause. 'I just want to be with you.' He isn't saying anything. Just looking at me, how the tears are rolling over my cheeks.

'Stop crying.' He says after a while. I wipe the tears of my face, I'm not wearing any makeup today. 'You look paler then before.'

I smile bitterly. Yes Jack. I'll die soon. And I just want you to forgive me before I go. I'll make sure to earn that. After a few seconds, He turns around and leaves the room. I walk towards the mirror.

'I just want to spend my last moments with you.' I whimper.

I'm not going to ask him to get back together. It'll be a lot more painful for him. I don't want to see him in pain. I'm not even sure if he still loves me.

I broke up with him because of my illness. Leukemia at Stage 3. When we found out about it, my parents decided for us to move to New York. They want me to get better, so they thought going to New York is the best option.

I didn't want to tell him about it. I don't want him looking at me with pity. I don't want him to worry about me. Especially since he was beginning a band.

I went through chemotherapy the first year I was in New York. It was painful I tell you. I thought I was making progress when the doctor told us the cancer cells were slowly decreasing.

But a year later, it got worse. Well, I mean it went back. I was at Stage 3 then Stage 2. And I'm back at Stage 3 again. I was hopeless. I just gave up. I stopped taking chemotherapy.

Instead of spending my last moments in the Hospital, why not spend it with the person I love? At least I'll die happy.

I just want him to forgive me. That we can be together again.

'Give me a change, please...'