"How have you been?”

"I´m okay.” “Sure? How do you feel, going back to work again?” “Fine. It´s just another job in another country,” I reply. Therapy sessions have been rather boring lately. I guess it´s a good sign for my recovery. I am not afraid of going abroad again. And the image of an airplane isn´t giving me anxiety.

The doc nods. I can read on his face, that he´s thinking otherwise, but he´s not complaining either.

"I wish you the best of luck. I hope for you, history won´t repeat,” he tells me and gathers his documents.

"Thanks. I appreciate it.” “Will you call me if you get too stressed?” “I doubt it. We´ve got eight hours of time difference. I wouldn´t like to wake you up at three a.m.,” I smile.

"Call me either way. I wouldn´t want you to get back to the beginning all over again.”

He gently pats my shoulder while we get up and leave the therapy room.

I´ll miss it anyway. I´ll miss the rooms with their warm colors and the staff with their kind smiles and comforting words. I´ll even miss the smell of disinfectant and the room spray.

"I´ll miss you, too,” I say while leaving.

"Call me from time to time. Where do you go again?” “South Korea.” “Seoul?” “Yep.”

"Do you speak some Korean?”

I grin awkwardly, ´cause I´ve had the same thoughts before and it´s making me a little worried.

"Not a single word.”

"Stay safe, boy. We´ll miss you.”

Mom hugs me tight, and I feel her tremble a little in my arms.

We´re standing in front of the doors to the departures of the international airport. My dad says nothing, just stares at me with this indifferent expression. The expression is written on his face ever since I left for military school and has never been any different.

"I´ll be safe. Don´t worry. It´s just a bunch of kids.” “You said, they were some kind of stars?” “Some kind of, mom. I bet they´ll become the next Backstreet Boys.” “For real? You`ll be around superstars? That´s GREAT!" "Mom," I sigh and pull away. “I´ve never heard of them before. It´ll be a chill job, believe me. The doc said I should start easy. No stress.” Her smiling face even gets brighter. “You´ll do great, I´m sure," I hear my dad huff. “Honey, let the boy go. He´s already late.”

She lets go of me and tries lifting my bag. I take it and wave at them.

"Call you.”