Nick was riding his brand-new Suzumi bike—a sleek, expensive machine that matched his wealthy lifestyle. Unlike the usual reckless riders, he wasn't speeding. He was cruising at a steady pace, the engine humming softly beneath him. The street was unusually empty, almost too quiet, as he headed toward his tennis academy for evening practice.
But Nick wasn't really focused on the road. His mind was elsewhere—on Luna. What is she doing now? Studying again? Maybe laughing at one of her silly law notes? A small smile tugged at his lips.
Just then, Luna's name flashed on his phone. He didn't stop the bike; instead, he slipped the phone into the holder on his bike's stand and answered.
"Hey, Luna," he said, his voice light.
"Nick! Did you reach the academy yet?" she asked casually, her tone full of the easy warmth of best friends.
Nick chuckled. "Not yet, but don't worry, I'm on the way."
But his eyes weren't on the road. And he didn't see the danger coming.
A truck loaded with metal rods swerved down the opposite lane. The driver—half drunk, with bloodshot eyes hidden behind tinted glasses—was weaving left and right, struggling to control the heavy vehicle.
Nick kept listening to Luna, distracted by her playful scolding.
"Nick, seriously, you forgot your assignment here again! And your tennis kit! What am I supposed to do with you?"
Her voice was sweet but nagging, filling Nick's ears—so much so that he didn't notice the truck drifting into his path.
Then—impact.
The world shattered. The sound of steel crashing against steel. The violent twist of metal. Nick's body was thrown into the air, flipping before hitting the road with a sickening thud. His head struck the pavement, blood pooling fast around him. The once-silent street was now pierced by screams and screeching tires.
On the phone, Luna was still speaking, unaware of what had just happened.
"Nick? Why aren't you answering? Nick, are you pranking me? … Come on, say something!"
Then came her scream. "Nick!!"
Her voice echoed through the line, but Nick lay motionless, his phone cracked beside him.
Bystanders rushed over. A small boy, trembling, picked up Nick's phone as it continued to buzz with Luna's frantic voice.
"Hello? Nick? Why aren't you—"
The boy interrupted softly, "Sister… he… he had an accident. They're taking him to the hospital."
Luna froze. Her phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. For a moment, her world stopped. Then, without thinking, she grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, panic rising in her chest.
At the hospital, she burst into the emergency ward, her hands trembling so hard she could barely sign the admission papers. The doctor's words rattled her bones.
"He's losing blood fast. We have to operate immediately. If we delay… we won't be able to save him."
Luna's vision blurred with tears as she scribbled her signature.
Through the glass of the operation theater, she caught sight of Nick's pale face as they wheeled him inside. A thousand thoughts screamed in her mind: Why does God always give me people only to take them away too soon? Why him?
When the doctor asked, "What is your relation to the patient?" Luna hesitated.
"I'm… his best friend," she said.
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Best friend? Then why are you crying like this? Do you… love him?"
For a moment, silence. Then Luna whispered, almost to herself, "No… I don't. He's just my best friend." But her tears betrayed her.
Outside, Alex arrived, his face pale as he heard the news. Despite his jealousy, fear overwhelmed him. He sat beside Luna, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"We'll get through this," he murmured. "Nick's strong. He'll make it."
Hours dragged by like years. The night grew cold as Luna and Alex sat in the waiting room, sleepless, clinging to hope.
Finally, the surgeon stepped out, his mask lowered.
"The operation is done. The patient is alive… but his condition is critical. His body is weak. Normally, patients fight to live—but your friend…" The doctor sighed heavily. "…it's as if he has no will left. If this continues, he may slip into a coma."
Luna's heart clenched. She pressed her palms together, whispering a desperate prayer, while Alex sat in silence, realizing that, for the first time, he was afraid of losing Nick too.
And in the sterile hospital room, Nick lay unconscious, his face pale, his breaths shallow—caught between life and death.