Of course, they didn’t know.

How could they?; you’d made it your personal endeavour not to tell them, alert them of it, or even make them mildly aware of your predicament. This meant that you couldn’t ask them, your lifelong best friend, for help on the situation, but you’d figured that Noob never had been the best at handling such stressful situations; that fact alone leading you to consider the decision in the first place.

They were blissfully unaware; every day, the infection got worse, and every day, you couldn’t figure out a single reason why as to why or even how this was happening. It had begun to take a toll on you, but you couldn’t let it show. No, not around Noob. They couldn’t know.

Why? You weren’t so sure. What you were sure of, however, was that they were naive, and you were oh-too-aware of the many dangers and threats plaguing the world. You had always protected them from the dreaded news, only sharing the good parts of your day with them and only sharing good experiences with them. You wanted to keep their innocence for as long as possible; and you were succeeding.

But who was to take your place after you’d gone? — that was the thing. There would be no one else to keep the bad news away from them, to protect them from bad happenings and incidents, and knowing Noob, all that suddenly crashing down on them would be a burden. You weren’t even sure if you’d die in the first place; sure, the infection caused surges of intense pain at times with no explanation as to why or how, and no matter how many doctors or cardiologists, dermatologists or anaesthesiologists, they never had a solution or even an explanation to your condition.

If you died from this infection, which even you weren’t sure would happen — or even if it would happen soon — the sudden loss of you would definitely take a toll on them; no doubt of that. You knew how attached they were to you, and multiple times, more times than you could count, they had called you in the middle of the night because they had a bad dream, which often involved you getting killed in it. If they couldn’t handle a simple dream about a loved one getting killed, how could they deal with the actual loss of you?

You didn’t know — and sincerely hoped no one would find out the answer to that.

To the present day, Noob was still blissfully unaware of your condition, even if it was beginning to delve cracks into your already introverted personality; Noob had noticed the subtle changes in your persona, even if you had done your best to keep up that facade.

However, no mind; they hadn’t pondered over it too much, and decided that the best thing to get your spirits back up was to go to a party — you had always detested parties, but had always tolerated them at best for Noob. You weren’t so sure you could stick this one out, though, especially since it was being thrown by the most boisterous boy in your class.

Picking you up from your college dorm which they always hung out with you in since there was the lack of a second occupant, Noob had gleefully led you down to the college courtyard and out the front gate, cheering along as they dragged you behind their sprinting form to the location where the party was to be thrown; it just so happened to be taking place at the local disco, a place where none of the previous parties you had been forced to attend to had been thrown. Having already grown accustomed to the same place the parties from before were always thrown, this new location didn’t do much good to quell your sense of dread.

“Come on, Guest!”, Noob would exclaim, their usual bright and signature grin on their face present as they pulled you inside through the swinging double-doors — dressed all-out in party attire, that alone defined that this was going to be a long, long night.

Once inside, they’d pull you over to a somewhat secluded corner, still keeping their grip on your hand, practically bouncing up and down in elation.

“Don’t be so introverted this time, yeah? Come on, this’ll be something you can enjoy. I promise!”