(Prior to the underground subway scene)

Yoongi was standing in the middle of an abandoned basketball court. The sun, warm and mellow, was slowly setting, irradiating the court with bright orange. He was alone.

He dribbled his basketball and ran across the court. He jumped up to slam dunk the ball into the basket, but the ball missed the hoop by centimeters and bounced to the ground. He grabbed the ball and turned around to try again.

Today, of all days, the rims looked far away. Standing atop of the court, sigh forms, and he frowns, thoughts wandering in the quietness.

If a boy who's afraid of the present throws the ball, it's only his heart throwing a ball. The one that I'm throwing towards the rim is countless troubles, causes of worry in life. I pretend to know the world but I don't. My playground is only a simple court, but the world never ceases to show me horrors.

Something along those lines was the words of a verse he had written, thoughts put into cohesive, melodious lyrics. He wondered how long he had to go living with such thoughts... grim thoughts about throwing his future, about how the world always disqualified his successes and painted horoscopes he could not fulfill, making him terrified of his own true image. He wondered why he was forced to continue dribbling with these kinds of thoughts while paddling through life and pretending that he was fine.

His mother was dead. His best friend destroyed the one thing that reminded him of her: the piano. His grades were failing, but he was about to graduate from school. He was about to 'enter the real world' and become an adult. He felt that he was behind in everything.

At first, he had thought that he was alone with his thoughts. He had always felt that his friends were ahead of him, excited for the future, thrilled about adulthood. But that was not the case.

His friends seemed to be suffering from the entry of adulthood, psalms no one wanted to sing, as well. Taehyung was suffering from his not adult-like father, Namjoon from poverty and stubbornness, and Jin from unrequited love and wealth, and Jimin and Hoseok, from their own very selves. They were suffering but trying very hard to hide it, just like he was.

It was only a matter of time before the world would sweep them off their feet, away from school life, and into the hands of adulthood where none of their futures were bright.

Why was he still here? Breathing. Like the sun setting on the court, the sun will set on his life.

And this moment, this youth. It will never come again. It won't come to me again.

Most importantly... his matches. His beautiful, wonderful matches. They kept disappearing because that stupid girl kept stealing them. He never saw her steal them but he knew it was her. He had to keep buying new ones.

He grabbed the basketball and chugged it to the side. The sunlight was getting to his head. He hated scholarly thoughts. They were too classy and mature for his boiled dumpling existence.

Screw it. Imma go blow up something. Maybe burn some shopping carts.