With the possibility of a seizure striking within 48 hours, Talia nad two final wishes.
The first was…
“Obviously, I have to go to prom!”
Her graduation dance.
“The more I think about it, dying without ever going to prom would feel like such a waste. So I figured I should just throw one myself! To be honest, the only reason I was going to skip it before was because I didn’t have the money—but that’s not a problem now, right?”
Bold as always.
It was strange how her audacity never ca off as annoying.
“I’m going to make it huge and glamorous!”
She excitedly laid out her plans, then suddenly paused and studied my face before asking carefully.
“You’re okay with that, right?”
“Do whatever you want—doesn’t matter to .”
“Really? No backing out later, okay?”
The truth was, it didn’t exactly not matter.
Lately, Talia’s fearless spending had been causing so abnormal reactions in my body.
My heart would pound like a jackhamr, my breathing would turn ragged, and I’d find myself ducking into bathroom stalls multiple tis a day just to breathe into a paper bag.
Cold sweat soaked through my shirt so often I had to change five tis a day.
And yet—oddly enough—this physical agony brought a strange sense of relief.
Like proof that I wasn’t just standing by, letting a kid march toward death with my hands in my pockets.
Like a warped form of absolution.
'No… am I the shaless one here?'
Probably.
Because all I’m enduring are panic attacks and ruined shirts.
“Really, no budget limit at all?”
“……Right.”
“Then first things first—we need people!”
Talia whipped out her phone and started scrolling through her contacts.
Then she froze, realization crumpling her expression.
“But wait… we only have tomorrow, right? If I contact people now, how many will even be able to make it…”
With a seizure possibly hitting within 48 hours, the window for prom was essentially just one day.
There was another problem too—Talia was from Chicago.
She had co all the way to Philadelphia for treatnt.
All of her friends were back in Chicago.
But that problem was solved quickly.
“Sean, you obviously have a private jet, right? Can we use it?”
That was how my jet beca a Chicago–Philadelphia shuttle.
“We need to fit at least 150 people.”
“Max capacity is 19 per trip.”
“So… what, eight trips? And we need round trips too!”
If the pilots skipped their breaks, it was technically doable.
And surprisingly, once they heard the situation, they agreed without hesitation.
Still, Talia looked unsatisfied.
“But… 150 people is kinda empty for prom, isn’t it?”
It was sumr break, everyone scattered, and it was one-day notice. Gathering 150 people already felt impressive to —but apparently not to her.
Regardless.
She imdiately wheeled her wheelchair down the hospital corridor on a recruiting spree.
“Hi! I’m having my graduation party tomorrow—wanna co?”
She invited literally everyone she saw.
Grandmas, grandpas, night-shift residents, interns.
“Well, we’re all stuck in the hospital anyway! Might as well have so fun together, right?”
The whole ward ca alive.
To people worn down by monotonous hospital life, this party felt like rain after drought.
The prom venue was the hospital event hall.
Booking it was shockingly easy.
Normally it required weeks of advance notice, but the mont the coordinator heard Talia’s na, approval was granted instantly.
Transforming it into a ballroom overnight wasn’t exactly simple—but even that proceeded without resistance.
“For Talia? Of course we’ll make it happen.”
Catering, florists, DJs—every vendor said the sa thing.
Talia’s bucket list was already national news.
Local news ntioned her almost daily.
In Philadelphia, everyone knew her story.
More than a million people were following her journey online.
“She’s getting treatnt for others, not herself. It’s her last wish—how could we say no?”
The expressions were complicated.
A mix of awe for her bravery and heartbreak that a 17-year-old was preparing to face death.
And so—prom day arrived.
Volunteers flooded in.
Florists decorated the entrance with hundreds of roses and lilies.
Lighting teams draped fairy lights across the ceiling.
Hospital staff hauled tables and lined up chairs.
It felt like an entire city was moving for one girl.
By afternoon, the event hall was unrecognizable.
A DJ booth stood at one side.
A lavish photo backdrop shone at the other.
And then—the star of the show herself—
“My dress…”
She stared at the silver gown hanging on the wall, eyes glistening.
She had bought it months ago, back when she was healthy.
Of course, it wouldn’t fit her swollen fra now.
“Should we try finding a new one?”
“No! It has to be this one!”
Talia shut down Rachel imdiately.
“I went to six stores, tried on twelve dresses, and fought with my mom three tis over this one! Changing it now is like picking a wedding dress on the day of your wedding!”
She examined it carefully, then lit up with a solution.
“I’ll be in a wheelchair anyway, right? So only the front needs to look good! If we pin it in the front…”
It wasn’t perfect—but she was satisfied.
A nurse secured the dress with dical tape.
Then Talia turned to .
“Sean, you need to go change into a tux too.”
“A tux?”
“Obviously! You’re my date! I need to make the most dramatic entrance in school history!”
And just like that—prom began.
A red carpet stretched from her room to the hall.
When we arrived, the host announced us.
“Talia and Ha Si-heon!”
It was like an 18th-century royal ball.
When the doors opened, cheers from over 300 people erupted.
Talia’s friends from Chicago whistled, and the patients applauded enthusiastically.
“Photos! We need photos first!”
Talia pointed straight to the photo booth.
Inside, banners perfectly fitting her personality were hung.
Even in her wheelchair, Talia posed like a pro.
Chin up, shoulders angled, eyes past the cara lens—she looked like she belonged on a runway.
After exiting the booth, a ballot box awaited.
The voting sheet had only one na for each category.
King: Ha Si-heon.
Queen: Talia.
“Not very democratic. Hard to call this a fair election.”
“Democracy is overrated!”
Then ca the dance.
Dancing in a wheelchair had its limits, but Talia moved to the rhythm with her upper body.
Her friends ford a circle around her, and when soone spun her wheelchair around, she let out a thrilled scream.
And then—prom’s highlight.
The announcent of King and Queen.
“Your 2017 Pennsylvania Hospital Prom King and Queen are… Ha Si-heon and Talia!”
The outco was obvious, but the crowd roared anyway.
Talia placed a tiara on her head and grabbed the mic.
“Thank you! As your Prom Queen, I vow to donate my body for the future of science… for all of mankind!”
She paused dramatically.
“However—returns and exchanges are not accepted!”
The hall exploded with laughter.
Her ability to joke about death so casually made people uneasy—yet they laughed anyway.
“And let’s hear it for my prom date! Who needs the Forbes list when you have my bucket list! Autographs later—right now, we dance!”
As the night wore on, the prom slowly approached its end.
It was ti for her Chicago friends to return.
One by one, they lined up to say goodbye.
“Talia… about last year, I was kind of cold to you—”
A girl began, guilt written all over her face.
Talia instantly raised her palm.
“Stop! No regret, no apologies today! Instead, tell one funny mory about .”
She scanned the room and declared:
“New rule! No goodbyes. Share your favorite Talia mont. Funniest ones only!”
Her friends hesitated at first, then began one by one.
“You always asked the wildest questions in class. Watching teachers short-circuit was the best!”
“Last year at the talent show when you ran on stage and yelled ‘This song goes out to Jake Miller who dumped !’ — unforgettable!”
Finally, a boy spoke, awkward at first.
“You were always loud and shaless. Honestly… sotis a lot to handle. But now that I think about it… school would’ve been way too quiet without you.”
Talia gasped, delighted.
“Ooh! Perfect! I found my tombstone line! ‘Talia lies here. Finally, it’s quiet.’”
Laughter burst again.
Even friends who’d been wiping tears doubled over laughing.
And so—her graduation party ca to an end.
Back in her hospital room.
“I guess normally there would be an after-party right now…”
Most proms continued into soone’s house or a hotel room with drinks.
But that was impossible for a girl in the ICU.
“So let’s move on to my final wish…”
She announced dramatically.
“Movie night!”
Of all things—movie night.
Simple, unexpected.
The movie she picked was…
“Armageddon!”
A film about oil drillers sent to space to stop an asteroid—famous for Bruce Willis sacrificing himself at the end.
“I haven’t seen it yet. It was on my classics marathon list, but I missed it. Figured it’s your generation’s thing too, Sean. We good?”
The movie began.
At first, she giggled at the ridiculous montage of astronauts-turned-drillers.
But as the story progressed, she grew quieter.
And then—the climax.
Bruce Willis saying goodbye to his daughter through the monitor.
I have to go now. But you’re the greatest thing I ever made.
The mont those words left the speakers, Talia’s shoulders began to shake.
Tears stread down her face.
She tried wiping them with the back of her hands—but they wouldn’t stop.
“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I’m crying because… because the movie is sad!”
She gave up, leaned her head back, and bawled—with full noise.
Sniffling, sobbing, and absolutely unapologetic.
She grabbed tissues one by one, then just hugged the entire box to her face.
For ten minutes straight.
Only when the tissues were nearly empty did she finally breathe again.
“Phew… yeah. A classic really hits different. I feel cleansed.”
Eyes swollen, she abruptly sat up.
“Oh! Right! Do you guys have a karaoke machine?”
“It’s 3 a.m.”
“I can’t wait until morning! It’s my real last wish!”
No one bothered to count how many “last wishes” that made.
A mini karaoke system was rolled into the lounge.
Without hesitation, she chose Armageddon’s the song.
'I don't wanna close my eyes'
'I don't wanna fall asleep'
''Cause I'd miss you baby'
'And I don't wanna miss a thing…'
She sang with everything she had.
Like soone who truly didn’t want to fall asleep.
Pitch was shaky.
Timing was chaos.
But the emotion—rawer than any recording could ever be.
By the ti dawn streaked across the windows, she finally collapsed into her bed.
“Okay… that’s it. Prom… movie… all of it…”
She murmured, eyes closed.
“Best night… ever.”
A few hours later.
During morning rounds, Talia sat up bright and alert.
No trace of last night’s tears.
No trace of weakness.
Just the sa audacious girl as always.
“I’m ready. Let’s begin.”
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