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[ FLASHBACK ]

"Was my boy giving you a hard time?"

Maxen turned to the old man sitting on the hospital bed. The old man had his back against the headboard, eating some grapes that Maxen brought to him. Looking at the old man, the latter had more wrinkles on his face, but his smile was just as big and bright as ever.

"How many years has it been since the first time you came here?" the old man looked up and smiled, reminiscing the time his grandson brought this friend of his. "Five.. six…"

"Eight years," Maxen corrected, resting his leg over the other. He was sitting on the chair near the floor-to-length window; his usual spot whenever he would visit this old man. "It's been eight years."

"Eight years… haha! I lived a lot longer than I expected." The old man chuckled happily.

"You did." Maxen's eyes softened as he watched the old man clap. "I'm glad you did."

The old man let out a shallow breath as he gazed at the dashing man. "I remember that time you do not have those inks on your body. But now, even if you're wearing a suit, I can seek them peeking out of your collar and sleeves."

"Do I look terrible with them?"

"Definitely!" the old man huffed. "Each time you and Remo come, your tattoos are growing more and more. Now, you're just covered with them. There's no place for more anymore!"

"There is." Surprisingly, the short-tempered Maxen just laughed it off. He then pointed at his face. "My face is still safe."

"Mhm! This child! Do you want to give me a heart attack if you show up here with a tattoo on your face?!" the old man harrumphed. "Don't show up in front of me if you do that or Remo!"

"Why, old man?" Maxen cocked his head to the side. "Aren't you being a little too cocky now? What's wrong if I put some more tattoos on my face?"

"Hmph! Just don't!"

"Why?" Maxen frowned. "Do you think we're bad people just because we have tattoos?"

"No." The old man's frown deepened as he gazed at the dashing Maxen. "I am growing old, young lad. How will I recognize you if you will cover your dashing faces with inks?"

"Oh?"

The old man let out a shallow breath and shook his head mildly. "You boys… don't even think of your elders anymore. I'm already old and have terrible eyesight. I'm just glad to see you two become young fine men."

"I can now rest in peace," he added with a deep sigh of relief, but that somehow didn't sit well with Maxen.

"You can't die," said Maxen, watching the old fellow look back at him.

"I've lived for a long time. Don't you want this old man to rest!?"

"You can't rest just yet, grandpa. Remo had been very sensitive later, and I don't want to deal with his whiny ass for now."

"Hmph! This boy just thinks of himself!"

Maxen smiled playfully. "So, don't die just yet, alright?"

"Fine, fine. Goodness… this boy." The old man shook his head and peeked at Maxen. The moment he caught the mischievous and pleased smile on Maxen, his old heart softened.

This boy… from eight years ago looked truly dashing and successful. Remo said Maxen was an heir to a very rich family, so he could afford his medical expenses. The old man would always be forever grateful to this once young boy, but deep in his heart, he cherished Maxen just as much as he treasured his own grandson.

Maxen would constantly visit him, even without Remo, so the two of them eventually grew close. For the old man, this boy was a good man. Not because he shouldered his medical expenses, but Maxen truly had a big heart.

If only the old man knew that because Maxen had a big heart, no one wanted it. That was why people just kept taking a piece of that heart until there was nothing left. If only he knew… that whenever Maxen steps out of this hospital room, he wasn't the boy he thought he was.

"Maxen," called the old man, making Maxen's brows raise. "Remo can be quite a piece of work. I remember when he was just a boy, he used to get in trouble."

The old man looked away as he gazed up with a subtle smile. "He even got arrested because he was so fearless. I'm glad to witness how he matured and became a good man. It's all thanks to you." He set his eyes back to Maxen, his smile broadening.

"You realigned his life, and I'm forever grateful to you for taking care of us."

Maxen smiled subtly, but he didn't feel any guilt anymore. He had long accepted that he and Remo had to lie in front of his old man. After many years, Maxen had grown numb, so he didn't have the urge to correct anymore.

The truth would kill this man, for sure. It was better for him to think his grandson's boss and his grandson were just doing legal business.

"I know I said I won't die, but… take care of yourself, Maxen." The old man nodded weakly. "You're not getting any younger, too. You should eat and sleep in time, and don't overwork. If there's only one wish I have in this world is that… you and Remo will enjoy life. You two should be good and watch your temper."

How Maxen wished there was life to live.

Maxen remained silent as the old man began to turn sentimental. But he listened to his every word and felt the sincerity in his voice. Maxen kept his eyes on the old man, smiling subtly.

The past eight years of Maxen's life were just pure hell.

Out there… no one wanted him to live life to the fullest. They didn't want the good Maxen. All they wanted, and all they needed, was the cruel Maxen Devilsin, the man one shouldn't cross, and the man who was better off dead.

But this old man… Maxen was certain this old man was keen enough to understand there was something fishy in him. Yet, he pretended not to know a single thing and treated him kindly.

"Grandpa," called Maxen, putting a halt to the old man's sentiments. "I'm… glad you lasted this long."

The old man let out a weak chuckle as a reply, not knowing this would be the last time they would talk to each other.