Yoongi woke up to the sound of his alarm, signalling the start of another day he would dread.

The speechless boy walked into the bathroom, attached to his dorm room, after he managed to drag himself out of bed. The small boy then stripped and turned the shower on, flinching at the cold water.

Showers have some sort of magic to them, they pull you into a little trance, trapping you inside your own head, tempting you to think through your life, only showing you both the good and bad times.

Unless you had no good memories.

Yoongi wasn't always a mute, he could still talk, he just chose not to. A voice in his head told him the same thing over and over again: that no one would want to hear his words.

He massaged the bubbly shampoo into his mint green hair, listening to the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the floor and glancing over to the steam fogging up the windows. Yoongi relaxed as he felt the bubbles fall from his head and slide down his milky white skin with the warm water, sending chills up his spine.

Yoongi was never one to think too much of something, he could only feel what was there, so he didn't think much of the bruises on his wrists from being man handled the day before. Reminding him a little of his past.

~~~

9 years ago

"Haha, look! The shrimp fell over!" The boy's laughed as the small, brown haired boy struggled to recover from his fall, fighting the urge to burst out in tears.

No one had stopped the older boy's from further harming the younger, his fragile body trembling in fear, though, he managed to get his shaky legs to pick himself up and run away.

"Ha! Cowered! Fat pig! Ugly whore!" The leader of the bullies watched in amusement as the crying boy stumbled in his escape and smirked to himself as he relished in his victory.

'That's 43-2, little bitch...'

~~~

Yoongi quickly got dressed after hopping out of the shower and drying himself off, continuing to lock his room and walk down to the cafeteria located at the bottom of the boys' dormitory in his college. He picked up two pieces of toast and some beans before going to sit alone on a table for two in the corner of the massive room.

A small, secluded corner for a small, secluded boy.

He wouldn't pay attention to anyone around him, and in return, no one would pay attention to him.

As usual.

He ate the buttery bread whilst his thoughts lingered on the sweet sound of piano notes playing repeatedly in his head.

Those clear notes where enough to lead him into his own wonderland where there were no words to contaminate pure feelings.

The strong longing of touching the smooth, black and white keys was enough to pull him out of the cafeteria, leaving his half finished bread unattended, to travel to the main school building where his sanctuary lay...

The music room.