"Give me one good reason why I should never make a change?"
She understood.
This was a cry from deep within her heart: For the sake of her dream, she could give up a house in Budapest, treasures tucked away in chests, and even relinquish the golden piano and a castle. For the sake of her dream, she could let go of handcrafted treasures, expansive lands, and even her family and friends...
For the sake of her dream, she could forfeit her right to survival. It was better to live a day with abandon than like a walking corpse for ten years. She could abandon the delusion of struggling against the illness, not merely standing still, not merely resigning herself. Instead, she could break free from restraints and make a daring attempt. She could even surrender all efforts and struggles, just to live true to herself, to persevere through each day, even if just for a single day.
"Give me one good reason why I should never make a change?"
She understood. She understood it all. As hot tears surged forth, like a dam breaking, impossible to contain, she didn't want to stop them either. She just allowed the tears to flow freely. But a smile couldn't help but grace her lips, and then she began to laugh freely, to laugh uninhibitedly.
To cut off one's nose to spite one's face—how foolish an act that was. No one avoids drinking water just because they fear choking. But in real life, people often remain stagnant out of fear of failure, refusing to try, even negating outcomes before they begin. Then they live aimlessly. "Anyway, I won't live past twenty. Anyway, my illness is incurable. Anyway, I can never be a singer. Anyway, my dream is impossible..."
Anyway, I can't become a professional athlete. Anyway, being a mathematician won't make money. Anyway, whoever I marry, life will be mediocre. Anyway, any job is just scraping by. Anyway, even if I work hard, my boss won't appreciate it. Anyway, society won't change because of one person...
People are always like this, steadfast in believing they won't cut off their nose to spite their face, yet they make that very decision when faced with choices each day. Fear of failure, fear of change, aversion to hurt—all these lead them to remain still, even unwilling to attempt. Then they console themselves, "This is actually for the best."
If that's the case, then a cold is humanity's greatest killer, and no one can find a cure. If that's the case, life's destination is ultimately death, all the same for everyone. So why start at all?
For the first time, Hazel realized how foolish she had been. Trapped in her world of self-pity, it was as if the whole world owed her, as if the whole world had let her down, as if the whole world had betrayed her. How foolish! How absurd! How laughable!
What reasons, ultimately, had led her to give up change? What reasons led her to abandon effort? What reasons led her to forsake her dream? What reasons led her to relinquish life? What reasons prompted her to flee the entire world?
Laughter overflowed like a bubbling spring, spilling out in tears of such fervor that their scalding warmth singed her palms. But that heat was so palpably real that she couldn't help but lift her palms to gaze at them. She continued to laugh heartily.
Yet, her excitement caused her to break into a fit of violent coughing. It hurt her lungs, but this pain was a distinct reminder of reality—she could still feel, she still had a chance.
The captivating voice in her ears continued to hum, as if carried by a wandering bard strumming a guitar on a journey, singing about life while roaming the streets. The life of taking each day as it comes was like a flowing feast—each day different, encompassing happiness, sadness, joy, pain, hope, and disappointment. Life's colors were as vibrant as a rainbow.
Listen, it was the world's most moving song.
[
My house in Budapest, my
My hidden treasure chest
Golden grand piano
My beautiful castillo
You, ooh, you, ooh
I'd leave it all
]
The music concluded, and Hazel raised her hands, wiping away the disheveled tears on her cheeks, but her smile continued to bloom without reservation.
Looking up, through the haze of tears, Hazel gazed quietly at the man before her. His brows were always so clear, a hint of gentleness amidst his refinement, yet they concealed a sharpness that eluded casual observation. His eyes were deep and profound, a hint of brightness within their depths, hiding stories that people could never read. The serene and tumultuous, the fleeting and eternal radiance held within him made time linger within the smile on his lips.
Her heart began to beat in a way it never had before—one beat, then another—so real that it was as if she could hear the sound of her heart pounding against her chest. She couldn't help but want to listen closely.
"I told you, you can become a great singer," Hazel said, her voice somewhat husky.
Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that beneath Renly's seemingly carefree, indifferent elegance and nonchalance, lay a power that touched her soul. Whether it was the melody, the lyrics, or the singing itself, that formidable power almost made resistance impossible, easily ensnaring her and rendering her helpless.
Renly chuckled softly. "I believe you're the one embracing the dream of becoming a singer."
Hazel lightly laughed. Renly's response wasn't surprising. She nodded gently. "Yes, I am." Open and sincere, she confessed her deepest dream, "I want to be a singer." The words were simple, devoid of deliberate fluctuations, yet they resounded powerfully, ringing true.
A smile tugged at the corners of Renly's lips as he nodded towards Hazel. He didn't speak, but the affirmation and approval glimmering in his eyes were crystal clear.
"The song you just played, what's its name?" Hazel inquired curiously.
Renly pursed his lips and offered an unconventional answer, "I guess it should be "Budapest"."
"Budapest," Hazel repeated the word. "The capital of Hungary, Budapest?"
Renly shrugged. "I own a castle there."
This sentence tickled Hazel's funny bone, and she giggled, "And a golden grand piano." Renly earnestly nodded to confirm, which made Hazel even happier. She couldn't recall the last time she had been this joyful. "I really like this song."
"Lucky," Renly remarked with a relieved expression, a faint touch of humor in his words. "Did you catch on to something?"
"This is my story, isn't it?" Hazel playfully blinked her eyes, sidestepping the question.
Renly spread his hands, indicating his innocence. "Yes, it's your interpretation."
Simply from the literal meaning of the lyrics, "Budapest" was a tender serenade a man sang to a woman, a romantic and persistent declaration that he would forsake everything for love. But Hazel discerned another layer of meaning in the lyrics—a madness and purity of dreams, the wildness and beauty of freedom, the extravagance and indulgence of life.
Seeking oneself, becoming oneself, persisting as oneself—throwing oneself into these pursuits recklessly. This, Hazel could imagine, was the most beautiful and romantic thing in the world.
Gradually, Hazel restrained her smile, trying to decipher from Renly's eyes some hint as to why he had composed this song. Why did he craft these lyrics? Why choose this moment to perform the song? And further, how could he so empathize with her situation?
Could it be that within Renly's heart, there was also a Budapest hidden away, preserving his own golden grand piano?
"I read in the newspapers that you've been doing well in Toronto," Hazel lowered her gaze, changing the subject. "So, when will the movie be released in New York? If I get the chance, I'd like to go to the cinema to watch it."
This was an unexpected surprise. Since her interactions with Renly began, Hazel had never left Sinai Hospital. She seemed cut off from the world, severed from all external connections. Yet now, Hazel was bringing up the idea of going to the movies? This was a good sign.
"I don't know yet," Renly suppressed his thoughts and calmly replied, "But we've secured a distribution company, and they'll schedule the release. Probably November? Or maybe December? Once I have news, I'll let you know. But are you sure? Do you really want to watch "Buried"?"
Hazel initially thought Renly was asking, "Are you sure you want to go to the cinema?" Unexpectedly, the question had a different flavor. She couldn't contain her astonishment, widening her eyes, only to be met by Renly's smug smile. Hazel rolled her eyes in speechless frustration. "What? Do I look like someone without courage? Do you think, given my current health, I can't handle a thriller?"
Renly's smile brightened further. He waved his hand. "No, I just thought "Buried" is likely to be rated R."
Once again, a surprising answer left Hazel gaping in disbelief. In simple terms, an R-rated movie was restricted, intended for viewers aged seventeen and above. In other words, Hazel didn't meet the age requirement and couldn't watch it.
Hazel was genuinely taken aback. She blurted out, "What, are you in it, full-frontal nudity?"
"Huh?" This time, it was Renly who was taken aback. Hazel's uproarious laughter at his disheveled appearance allowed her to finally let off steam.
As Kelly Patton entered the recreation room, this was the scene that greeted her—a carefree Hazel, who looked… brimming with vitality. This was a demeanor Kelly had never seen before. Her face was full of question marks as she hesitated before walking in. "Uh… I don't want to interrupt, but, Hazel, it's time for your physical therapy."
"Really? No problem." Hazel agreed straightforwardly, causing Kelly to be amazed once again. Every time Hazel underwent physical therapy, she would resist vehemently, even if she eventually participated, her expression would be filled with gloom. Today, what in the world had happened?
Kelly glanced at Renly with an inquisitive look. Renly shrugged, spreading his hands to indicate his bewilderment. But the smile at the corners of his lips couldn't help but lift.
This was a positive sign.