Days never ended fast enough and always ended too quickly for Yoongi. Taehyung would take Jungkook back to wherever it was they hung out and Yoongi would drag out any extracurriculars as long as he dared. Except they weren't really extracurriculars because he wasn't a part of any clubs or anything like that. He just picked a place to spend his time before he went home.

Today he chose the music room as his hideaway. The other times he'd hidden here, another boy named Chae Hyungwon would be in the sound booth. They weren't exactly friends, but there was a mutual respect between them for their shared love of music production. Hyungwon had actually asked for his help on some tracks he wrote. But today, the music room was deserted. Yoongi had the room to himself to play around with some saved tracks. Before long an upbeat melody issued forth from the speakers and Yoongi was caught up in it for the next couple of hours. He added his lyrics in hopes of one day singing the song to his soulmate.

No. He would.

Yoongi packed up his things and jogged through the halls to his house. He needed to make his dad dinner.

He was setting the table when a lavender front of his soulmate's pain took up residence in his brain. Why was he upset? He hadn't been hit. Who was making him sad?

Yoongi cleaned the mess from making dinner and sat down to wait. He didn't start his homework, he didn't text Tae or Kook, he basically did the opposite of what a kid would do after school.

His dad liked things uniform. He liked things in place and he liked things to be practical. If it wasn't he'd get upset. That was never fun.

Yoongi listened patiently for the sound of his dad's car pulling into the drive way and when it finally did, he put the warm food on the plates, hurrying to open the door. He opened his mouth to speak, but his dad grabbed a fistful of his hair pushing him harshly away.

"Not a word."

And Yoongi's mouth sealed itself shut.

They ate in silence for a while. Yoongi wished dinners were different, like Taehyung's dinners. They had conversations, they shared. Yoongi wanted someone to confide in about his soulmate. But his dad wasn't that type of man. Yoongi's mother wasn't even his dad's soulmate.

"Have you met your soulmate yet?"

The question was so close to Yoongi's train of thought he was afraid he'd imagined it. But his father was regarding him with something that resembled interest.

"No," He began carefully. "I do know that sometimes he's closer than other times."

"He?"

"She." Yoongi corrected himself.

His father was also a raging homophobe.

Ew.