208

That was the numbers the golden plaque displayed proudly on its chest as it hung from the door.

A grin crawls your lips, the sign a nuisance and a friendly reminder that once again this room was unlike any other.

Oh no.

It was his room. 

The same room that belonged to the tenant which just so coincidentally happened to be the man that Coco just had pee on in her 2 minutes of freedom the one time you tried to walk her. 

"Great." You grumble, sweeping the strands of hair from your face in an effort to appear presentable and business-like. A smile plasters itself to your lips, your fist coming into the contact with the mahogany wood, the sing-song of your knock awaking the man within the room from his deep slumber. 

Yoongi groans, the sun shinning rays of disappointment on his face, a sharp pain striking his head as he shadowed his eyes with his palm. 

Another wordless night had passed.

His gaze wandered to the glass bottle laying carelessly on the floor, lips pursing.

And another night of pain had passed too.

His slender fingers follow the sharp turns of the wooden frame, dust coating his fingers with each centimeter he moved. An irritated grin twists his lips as he considers the picture through the glass. 

A time when everything was right. 

Dry laughter drains his chapped lips as a hand rakes through his obsidian locks.

Wasn't it ironic — That over time, more and more, he was molding into the people he hated most in this world?

He sure thought so.

As time went on, season by season, year after year, he had felt himself grow numb, detached —lifeless.

The more he looked in the mirror, the less he could recognize and the more he felt he was pretending.

The piercings.

The clothes.

His conscience.

He couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. He didn't even know who he was anymore because he had lost himself in a complex labyrinth twisted with tricks and lies.

Instead of feeling like a person, he had transformed into the doll, a lifeless creature controlled by the strings it was attached to.

The universe had moved on his behalf, made his life decisions for him — planned his happiness.

A dry chuckle spills from his lips. "What a joke."

What happiness could this universe provide anyways?

As Yoongi grew distant with the reflection he could once call himself, he deluded himself that he'd become the person he'd always hated.

The same person he was trained to be.

The figure that sat in a corner and cried. The weak and pathetic person that watched in horror and remained motionless as everything happened. The same person that was a useless child from the start.

This was not what he wanted.

He didn't ask to become this way — a man with harsh words and menacing thoughts. He became this way because of what was expected of him.

All Yoongi really wanted in this life, was change.

He wanted to rid of it all, abandon the life he had called his until now, run away without a single regret. He wished to vanish into the horizon and lead a life he could proudly call his.

Become a person he could like.

But where was the starting point? He had none. No dot, no arrow, nothing.

Sometimes he had felt himself wondering... If it had even already been to late...

To change?

At some point in time he'd looked more at the ground than the sky — the bad more than the good. Like standing alone on the edge of a cliff, he could be saved or fall at any moment.

And though Yoongi had a lot concerns and problems, he'd always wanted to feel the sensation of the wind blowing through his hair.

He wasn't afraid of the fall more than he was the landing.

He desperately wanted to part from all he'd ever known, but he was afraid of what would become of him.

He was afraid to love. 

He was afraid of love.

He lies motionless, stiff on the soft mattress, eyes still heavy from fatigue as he tried to make sense of the source of the bothersome noise ringing his ears. 

"Who is it?" His husky voice echoes. 

You remain frozen — stunned. Your heart soars to the sound of his scratchy voice, a noticeable crimson staining your cheeks as you hung your head low in embarrassment. "Cleaning service." You manage, your words muttered. 

Rising to his feet upon the voice that summoned him, the messy-haired man stumbles to the door, mind full in a haze of chaos and feelings conflicted. 

The door props open, a gap just enough space to expose half of his face into the light. His dark orbs lock onto yours, a forest of melancholy deep within a vast sea of black. A white shirt clinging to his chest, putting his toned body onto full display for your eyes to feast upon. His hair matched the colour of his clouded eyes, a striking ebony, and appeared to have a certain softness from the way it lapped over itself, certain strands of hair standing out. 

You couldn't help but notice that his sharp features resembled closely to that of a cat, eyes slanted upwards and jaw strong, predominant. His lips, thin, curved upwards creating an allusion of mischief in his grin. 

His head falls to the right, lips parting ever-so-slightly. 

"Can I help you?" He asks. 

You remain silent, throat falling dry as your mind runs in circles trying to think of the proper words to formulate to excuse yourself for your last encounter with a certain degree of politeness. 

Because being rude was the last thing you needed to do. 

A puff releases from his lips, posture arrogant as he rests against the door frame, eyes turning to you once again but this time in annoyance. 

"If you're going to waste my time, I'll leave." 

"N-no that's not-!" 

Your eyes cross as you come dangerously close to startling contact with the door slamming on its hinges. Yoongi pushes the door far enough to create an audible click only to further rub the salt in your wounds. 

He made his message clear.

Very clear.

"I just wanted to apologize..." You mumble.

❈

The bass had pounded through the floors, a sea of hot and sweaty bodies swimming together, moving to each beat that crawled through their veins. Flashes of neon dazzled the best dancers in the room, focusing them into the spotlight for the others to cheer. 

Clammy bodies smashed together, their feverish touch colliding, lips carrying large smiles as the spiteful vixens continued to press against the hormone-driven men  further driving them into their foolish and perverted fantasies.

A hand snakes around the shoulder of the ebony-haired man, his undefined reaction and blank gaze displeasing the woman attempting to lace herself in his arms. Her striking rouge lips near his ear, "Let me make you feel good." She purrs, hands weaving underneath his dress-shirt, fingers tickling his skin.

He allows a low chuckle, orbs growing hooded.

Just like a tattoo, the woman had planted herself onto Yoongi, a smile gracing her lips as her hips danced on his lap, attempting to arouse.

And just like a tattoo she'd become bothersome.

Her brows furrow upon the man's hand resting on the small of her back, his hot breath stinging her ear, "Why don't I show you to the door?" He grins.

The woman turns to him, expression utterly horrified and jaw hanging wide open. She scoffs, gathering her things "Asshole." She curses before storming off, swaying her hips angrily as a form of revenge. 

Yoongi's friends had mixed reactions, some musing over the situation and others disappointed that he had herded off yet another woman with such beauty. 

Not that it mattered though. 

All of the club's regulars were notorious for being shallow anyways. 

The youngest musters the courage to speak to his elder, "Yoongi relax. Let yourself go." The brunette grins, handing the elder a shot glass rimmed with a honey liquid as he wrapped his arm around Yoongi's shoulder. 

Yoongi shakes his head, the alcohol presented in his friend's palms bringing back the bitter memories. 

Jungkook shrugs, frowning briefly before raising the shot glass to his lips, the acidic drink pouring down his throat. He thrashes his head back, a smile tugging his lips as he continued conversing with the others. 

Hoseok nudges Yoongi, his signature heart shaped smile beaming as he spoke, "Aye Yoongi, just take it easy for a day. You're always so tense." Hoseok, slaps his hand on Yoongi's shoulder.

And just like that, Yoongi snapped. 

His eye twitches, ears growing sick of the disgusting music blasting from the speakers. His stoic expression had now contorted into one of disgust at the mere suggestion of even slipping from reality for a few moments. 

Had no one really understood? 

Even if he tried his best, there was no way for Yoongi to relax from suffocating on the lies that all the people around him spooned. 

Besides, for all Yoongi could've known they could've been lying too.

Because no one is trustworthy.

His tongue runs over his bottom lips in irritation, pulling his arm away aggressively, "Don't tell me what to fucking do." He growls, Hoseok's eyes growing fearful as the older rose from his seat, slipping away into the shadows of the night without another word. 

Namjoon spares Hoseok a sympathetic glance, "What's wrong with him today?" 

"He's normally moody." Jin, the eldest of the group, reminded. 

Hoseok shakes his head, guilt flooding his veins as the others all began speaking of Yoongi, criticizing him for his uncalled-for behaviour. "I should go after him." Hoseok mumbled, excusing himself from the table and exiting the building. He remains silent, observing his elder as he trailed behind the shadowed figure from a distance. 

Yoongi shivered as the summer breeze swept his hair, a chill running down his spine as the corners of his lips turned downwards. 

His teeth grasp his lip, the intense pressure turning them red and swollen. Once again, he'd found himself faced with the moonlight, its cold light shinning upon him, the wind howling in mockery. 

The scattered leaves crunched beneath his feet spiraled around him, trapping him within a pit of himself and his self-worth.  

"I hate it." Yoongi shouted, hands shaking as they neared his ears, their laughter ringing his ears and making his knees grow weak.

"What do you want?" She growls in disgust, red flooding down the bathroom sink, her brows furrowed. 

"I... Had a nightmare." The little boy admits, unsure as to why even though he had been scared, he still wanted her comfort — her arms to cradle him and hug him close. He wanted to hear that everything would be alright.

Even if it came from her. 

The woman grimaces, hands staining the towel as she dried them. She towered over the infant, a sadistic grin tugging her lips. "Do you think I care?" 

The little boy hangs his head low, teddy bear slipping from the grasp of his left hand. He strained to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I wanted someone to sleep with." The small infant whimpers, admitting his one selfish wish that he wanted in this universe. 

A person who could love him. 

"Then hold the bear close." The woman muttered , paying no attention to the boy in need as she busied herself with her own affairs. "He'll keep you safe." 

Little Yoongi shakes his head, clutching the hem of the woman's skirt with his small fists as he snuggled closer to her frame. "All I wanted was you." 

She chuckles, her fingers lacing his silky hair, dark orbs penetrating his. 

"Sometimes you don't get everything you want." 

"I HATE IT ALL!" His lips quivered as he swerved, nearly tripping over his feet as he neared the hotel within walking distance. The stabbing pain in his head was unbearable as he approached the front door, his vision vignetting. 

But he refused to back down. 

He had to keep pushing. 

He had to keep fighting. 

"Yoongi stop it! You're not walking straight!" Hoseok begs, grabbing onto the ebony-haired man's arm. A crooked grin follows his lips, "Fuck off!" He spits, swinging his fist towards the brunette. 

Yet Hoseok persisted, using his forearm to ward off the attacks from the ill man. "Stop it, you're going to hurt yourself." 

"Hurt?" He scoffs, "What more pain can I feel?" 

"Yoongi..." 

Hoseok uses the moment of vulnerability to approach the unstable man, eyes filled with concern as he reaches out. Yoongi's breathing turns heavy, adrenaline pumping through his muscles as he snapped out of his delusion, eyes narrowing in hate as Hoseok grew too close.

"Get lost!" The older barks, swallowing the painful lump in his throat as he climbed the steps. Hoseok yells after him, but Yoongi paid no attention to his needless crying. 

Instead he focused on relieving himself of the sharp pain shooting throughout his entire body, crushing him with every moment. 

We never know allies. 

And neither do we our enemies. 

And at the price of loneliness came the worst enemy. 

Yourself. 

Instead of having many targets, the one person to loathe becomes oneself, an internal battle that we all struggle with in the course of a lifetime. 

Yoongi was certainly no exception. 

He hated everything he saw in himself. 

He wished to be something more than what he has — something outstanding. 

Something he could be proud of. 

Yoongi gasps for breath at the front entrance to the hotel, within an instant, he'd known exactly what came over him.

He'd lost physical control of himself. 

With a thunderous clap the world came crashing down on him, his legs wobbling as the earth spiraled before him, his mind overtaken with a wave light-headedness. 

"Yoongi!" Hoseok yells, soaring towards the man collapsed on the sidewalk. He reached for his pocket, a wave of worry flooding in when coming to the sudden realization his phone had been with the others. 

"Someone call an ambulance!"

BTSgotJams_170 

2018 07 16

Seventeen's comeback ayeeeeeee