"The chances are high," the doctor said answering Kazimir's inquiries, "The likelihood of you having Sjögren's is a given considering you have Rheumatoid Arthritis, they both almost always co-exist together in the same body."

"So what does that mean? I can't cry anymore?" Kazimir asked looking her doctor in the eye. She hated looking at anything other than her doctor and her hands whenever she was in that vast room. Everything from the charts to the bone models to the X-Ray machine in the middle of the room gave her nauseating feelings.

"I said the chances are high. It doesn't mean you might have the syndrome right now. It takes time to develop and may take up to three years maximum. For now, you have to take a few tests so that I can give you proper consulting," The older answered Kazimir avoiding her real question.

"Tests for what?"

"Look Kazimir, yes there is a possibility you might have Sjögren's, a syndrome characterized by insufficient moisture production in glands of the body, primarily in the eyes and the mouth. But there is also a possibility, though small, that it isn't Sjögren's. So we need to run some tests to rule out every other cause that might have caused dry itchy eyes after you cried."

"But you said that these two go together. Rheumatoid Arthritis and Sjögren's are concurrent. Are the tests necessary?" Kazimir asked. She didn't want to take any tests, especially when they included a lip biopsy test according to her internet search.

"Yes. I can't prescribe any medication without the official test-based diagnosis. There are twelve blood tests total, one Schirmer's eye test to see tear production rate, and one lip biopsy test to see the saliva production rate in the salivary glands. One of the blood tests needs to be done during your period though."

"Oh," Kazimir uttered clutching her right hand with the left. The strange sensation was still there, though faint now. "So there are going to be several visits to the hospital?"

"Not necessarily. You can make an appointment on the second day of your next period and go through all the tests on the same day. The period wouldn't affect the other tests. When is it due?"

Kazimir looked down at her hands again and started to recall the last time her body fought the crimson war. In reality, she never kept track of it because there was nothing to track in the first place. When her body was too confused about everything else, the chances of keeping up its monthly job were its least priority and hence, Kazimir's least priority as well.

"I don't- I don't really know," She answered.

"That's okay. You can just phone in an appointment when the time comes," The doctor informed Kazimir turning to her computer screen and her fingers started typing away, "There are a few things I need to inform you about regarding the syndrome, a few disturbing things. I would have preferred it if you had come with someone else."

Kazimir looked up at her, her mind already steadying itself for the various symptoms about to be spewed in her direction but she wasn't at all prepared to be called out for showing up alone.

"I don't think there is anyone I want here with me. No one needs to know just how badly I am losing this battle."

Her doctor cut her eyes from the screen and looked at her briefly before looking back at the screen. "Have you been going to therapy?" She asked.

Kazimir shook her head and her hand came up run through her hair. "I couldn't take out time for it yet," She lied.

Therapy was another thing lined up side by side with her medication, something she refused to let herself take.

"Kazimir dear, chronic illness is not an easy thing to live with, it not only takes a toll on your physical health but emotional and mental health as well. It's not a question of why you should seek therapy, it's that you need therapy. If you're not well in the head, how do you expect to take care of your body? And with chronic pain, I know you're not well in the head."

"I'll- I'll try. I'll try to take out time for it." Kazimir lied and tears pricked at her eyes so she looked down at her feet to avoid her doctor's gaze.

"Kazimir look at me, look up," the doctor ordered and Kazimir reluctantly raised her gaze to meet her eyes.

"I am sorry that you have to go through this," her doctor apologized and there was sincerity in her tone.

Kazimir nodded but she didn't know that her doctor wasn't apologizing for what she was already going through. She was apologizing in advance for what she was about to tell her.

"Don't cry. Save up your tears, dear. There won't be much left for you to waste from now on. You should learn how to express pain through words because a point will come when your eyes will not produce any more tears. You could still cry, there will be pressure behind your eyes, a choked up feeling in your throat, basically everything related to crying, minus the tears."

Kazimir nodded but strangely enough, she had a sudden urge to laugh at the words. Learning to express pain through words was already useless for her when no one listened anyway.

"There will be some over-the-counter eye drops prescribed to you to keep your eyes moist so don't worry about that. The same goes for your mouth. There will be some measures you will have to take so that your mouth always has sufficient saliva, things like mouth sprays and lozenges and frequent sips of water."

Kazimir nodded again. At this point, she wouldn't be surprised if the doctor produced a death certificate from her drawer and handed it to her.

But she judged the symptoms too fast. There was still one last thing the doctor had to inform her and Kazimir could tell this was going to be the death blow by the way the older woman turned to face her properly and took a deep breath.

Kazimir mentally braced herself but she didn't know just how much worse it could get. Every time she was pushed to a new low in her life, she thought of it as her rock bottom and thought the only way left for her then was to go up. But she had even lost count of her rock bottoms.

"Look dear, being a doctor you should know I have no filter. So if what I am about to tell you makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable in any way then I am sorry but you need to hear it."

Kazimir nodded again and looked up at her but the doctor looked down, avoiding her gaze. It broke her heart having young patients like Kazimir with ailments like chronic arthritis or even Sjogren's but it didn't help matters at all when Kazimir not only appeared to be young, but beautiful as well. Doctor Amber almost felt like keeping her words to herself when Kazimir's hand came up to brush her hair aside and she glimpsed a fading love bite.

"Are you sexually active Kazimir?"

"Uh- I guess yeah, I mean-"

"If you could rate your most recent sexual encounter on a scale of how much pleasure you got out of it, how much would it be?"

Kazimir shifted in her chair slightly because true to her words, the question was an uncomfortable one.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Sjogren's is going to greatly affect your sexual life is what I mean. What you think of pleasure would soon turn to sexual dysfunction accompanied with pain."

"Huh?" Kazimir blurted. She wasn't understanding at all.

"You will have difficulty engaging in sex, including arousal, lubrication, orgasm, and satisfaction. Any type of sexual intimacy would be affected by vaginal dryness, which is caused by Sjögren's and will ultimately lead to painful experiences, even if the interaction was consensual. Are you understanding what I am trying to say?"

Kazimir shook her head.

"I am saying don't take sex for granted. You will not have many pleasurable experiences in the future if the tests come back positive for Sjogren's. Not only for you but for your potential partner as well. It's such a turn off for a man when the woman doesn't show any physical signs of arousal. It makes them feel incompetent which in turn could possibly lead to other things, like no satisfaction. It forces them to start believing that it was against your will and that can never lead to a healthy relationship, both emotionally and sexually."

Just so you know, you won't be able to make me come even if you were in my bed with that crippled ass body of yours.

Do you mean to ask whether that's rape or not?

Kazimir looked away from her doctor and tried to take a deep breath without letting the tear dams break open and leaned her head back against the chair.

"I am going blind is what you're trying to say, right? That I need to see as much of the world as I can before that happens?"

"I am sorry dear."

I am too. So very fucking sorry, Kazimir thought hugging her arms around herself and closing her eyes.

"Is there something else?" Kazimir asked.

"Don't go looking for trouble. Get therapy, this is not the end of the world. There is so much out in the world waiting for you. You are not alone."

You are not alone, Kazimir hated this one phrase more than anything else in the world. She thought nothing was more degrading than being comforted by celebrating the existence of the same pain in other people out there. There was nothing worse than using someone else's daily deaths as a means to feel more alive. If anything, it made Kazimir lose hope in the world.

"I don't buy your diagnosis," Kazimir snapped opening her eyes and giving Dr. Amber a death stare.

"What?"

"According to Google, Rheumatoid Arthritis is easy to live with. Almost manageable. What you're saying contradicts that," Kazimir said standing up, "And I don't think Sjögren's can take away the one thing I was starting to look forward to. I don't believe a word you said."

"I don't think two internet searches can compensate my five years in medical school, Kazimir."

"I don't think one hour lecture on my condition can compensate my five years living with this bitch. Who the fuck is Sjögren's to tell me I can't fucking cry, or I can't fucking fuck, do you see my face? Men all over fantasize about having me and you tell me that this mere syndrome will take that away too? Well, you know exactly where to shove that little diagnosis of yours because I don't fucking want it," Kazimir yelled.

She turned around and stomped away and it took her all of six steps to get to the nearest ward and she walked right into its restroom and closed the door on herself before leaning against it and sliding down until she was crouched.

She balled her hand into a clenched fist and put it in her mouth. Her teeth bit into it to give her angry screams an outlet until the skin broke and she started tasting something metallic.

Kazimir's teeth nibbled at the straw while she occasionally sipped on the orange juice from the juice box placed in front of her on the table while both her hands were occupied with a paper in each one and her eyes were busy comparing them.

She took one long sip emptying the box of the liquid but kept on sipping until the box shriveled into an airless deformity but little did she care as long as her tongue and teeth still had the straw to chew on.

Her eyes jumped from one paper to the second and back again because she was playing a game of Spot the difference she found in the waiting room earlier but the worry wrinkles forming on her forehead were indicating she was losing the game.

"Excuse me, would you like coffee or tea?" A waitress at the indoor cafe interrupted her and Kazimir looked up with lost eyes.

"Oh, I didn't want anything, thank you," she said putting the papers down. Her right hand was tired already and she was just holding a paper. In reality, she would loved a warm cup of tea right then but she had absolutely no money on her.

She spent all her loose change on the juice box from the vending machine and she was now sitting at the hospital's cafe trying to regain her composure.

"Let me know if you do," the waitress said, "It's on the house. Someone bought everyone one cup of coffee or tea depending on what they prefer."

"Is that so?" Kazimir asked awed at the generosity of the stranger.

The waitress nodded and waited for Kazimir to order.

"I'll have a cup of tea then. And by any chance whoever is doing this comes by again, let them know I am grateful for their generosity."

"You could do that yourself. He's right there," the waitress said gesturing behind Kazimir with her head while her hands got busy jotting down her order on her notepad.

Kazimir turned to look behind her and saw the free-phone-guy talking with a male nurse. The nurse was explaining something to him with grand hand gestures and he was nodding along to every word.

So far Kazimir knew one thing for sure. Whoever he was, he had mad dough. The way he was dressed and carried himself and the way he gave away a new phone and now he was paying for everyone's tea. Kazimir turned back to face forward but even though her heart squeezed in on itself because of jealousy, she couldn't really hate the guy.

He was kind, and she needed some of the good stuff right then. It was strange how she had never met anyone who was as keen as her towards mere kind acts but she cherished each act of kindness like it was a shining star on a dark night. Though small and far, but when accumulated, those small stars lit up the entire sky. And knowing her, it was the closest she ever got to a metaphor being real.

Shining star, she thought, he's a shining star.

The waitress placed her cup on the table with a smile and Kazimir got up stretching her arms subtly because fifteen minutes and they were already feeling heavy with rust.

She picked up her papers, the empty juice box and her cup of tea and started walking towards the exit.

Once out in the parking lot, her eyes scanned the perimeter while she sipped on the tea hoping for once Minho ate away at his pride and stayed. But he was gone for real and Kazimir couldn't even be disappointed anymore.

She made it back inside the cafe and sat down to decide who to call for a ride. Minho and Taehyung were not options anymore and Naomi didn't know how to drive. Mr. And Mrs. Kim were out of the question too because Mr. Kim wasn't allowed to drive and Mrs. Kim would most probably ask to borrow Minho's car which would eventually lead to him driving her back.

She scrolled through her contacts looking for any name that would be glad to help her but every name screamed you only call when you need something and so she closed her phone and leaned back against the chair.

Should I call Jimin? She wondered because technically, fake boyfriends always included driving the girl around but she dismissed the idea.

Everything in her life was a joke by then. Her engagement, her relationship, her friendships and even her non-existent skinship.

She sighed and picked up her tea and took a long sip and let the warm liquid warm its way down her throat, the only warmth she felt she was still entitled to.

Her eyes started scanning through the papers again when her phoned beeped signaling a text and Kazimir's whole body fell apart at the three words that lit up her screen.

Are you done?

She stared at the text for a second, their earlier conversation playing in her head but she found herself at the same dead-end she always ended up at. Helplessness.

Mr. Kim sat down on the chair that faced Taehyung's study desk and watched his younger son with curious eyes.

Taehyung was emptying his drawers into a cardboard box while simultaneously throwing little snippets of trash and things he either didn't need anymore or didn't use anymore into a trash bag.

"Have you talked to your mom about this?" His father asked turning to the table and running his finger over the spines of the books stacked on Taehyung's desk.

Mr. Kim had mastered a variety of things since he had gotten back from the war but making eye contact with his sons was still an act he fell short at, even when Minho made sure to look him right in the eye whenever he had something to say.

"About moving out or about Mir?" Taehyung asked but his throat constricted just the slightest at saying her name.

She had ruined their relationship with no regards to his emotions or where he stood when it came to her but he was going crazy reminding himself every second of the day that it was worth what he got in return; a life of his own. It was worth every moment he cringed in distaste when his lips tasted lidocaine on her skin.