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αη∂ ι єη∂ υρ тєℓℓιηg ℓιєѕ

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__

Any words that would've passed through our vocal cords were communicated with our eyes instead. Maybe it was because both of us were afraid the other was a mirage that the mere vibration of sound could shatter it.

And, though unsuitable for the situation, I started thinking of all the kids who went to the schools I went to and ate alone during lunch, played alone during recess, and walked home alone, having their shadow as their only friend. It's been years since I've last seen them, and I wondered if they've found a friend yet. If they have during the past seven years, are they still friends? Did they have a friend who wiped away their tears and repaired their wings while also telling them not to fly too close to the sun?

Did that friend become something more?

And if they did, did they have them get ripped away from them?

"Minami...don't look at me..." Hoseok attempted to cover his face with his arms, only to discover they were semi-translucent.

And then, I thought, after the universe tore them away, did they remain lonely? Afraid to befriend another person to ensue another heartbreak when they leave? Willingly or not?

"Hoseok..."

"...Minami..."

Fighting back tears, I managed a small smile.

"...Tell me a story..."

"Wha--Minami?"

I lowered my head, fists clenching by my sides, "Please...tell me your story..."

The tips of his fingers were almost invisible now.

"But...it'll make this feel like a goodbye..." He said, hair falling into his eyes.

"But it won't be! You said you'd tell yours once everyone else's were told! Our agreement never stated that it would be the last story you would tell!"

Another phrase lingered at the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down. Then, Hoseok spoke it.

"Only, we both know it will be, won't it?"

No words could've been said to alleviate the grief coursing through the air after that. And so, no other words of alleviation were exchanged.

"Alright," he said, sitting down, "you've waited long enough...Let's make the finale strong, shall we?"

I could only let tears fall at that.

__

He started off how he would usually begin a story, setting the stage and exposition, waiting for the imagination to take over for the listeners.

"Once...there was a boy...who wanted to be loved by millions..." the words left unhurriedly despite knowing we only had a couple hours left as the clock read 1:24am.

"His dream was wanting to become a dancer, or a singer, maybe even an idol...He practiced for hours, days at a time, making his poor mother work multiple part-time jobs to support it. His father never batted an eye at his dream. In fact...the boy's father frequently beat his mother for it..."

Each word took great effort and concentration to be voiced and heard. And when they did finally slipped past Hoseok's lips, it only stabbed through both our hearts just the same.

"...She still continued to work hard...Of course, she did...But she shouldn't have. Her long hours of toiling away from one job to the next decreased both her mental and her physical health...until she couldn't take it anymore. I...I hadn't been making much success in turning my dreams into reality, and whenever I told her I'd gotten 3rd place at a dance competition, the wrinkles on her face increased ten-fold.

"One day...she took me to a local amusement park and took me on all the rides I wanted to go on...and after we were all done, she gave me a candy bar and told me we were going to play hide and seek. And she would hide. So I did, and then counted to ten, but when I opened my eyes and went out to find her, I couldn't find her anywhere. A security guard told me...she left the park. And after that, the police couldn't trace her or my father anywhere..."

It didn't slip past me that Hoseok gradually stopped referring to himself anonymously by third-person perspective.

"I...I was sent to an orphanage. But my foolish self kept believing that if I worked hard enough, that if I just kept dancing and singing...my face would be shown all over on tv, and my mom would see how far I'd come and then come back to get me. But as I grew older and only won a handful of competitions...I couldn't even imagine that in dreams anymore..."

"Hoseok...I'm-"

"Please," he cuts me off, "...let me finish...if I don't right now, I'm afraid I won't be able to."

I look down, and his fingers have disappeared down to the first joint.

He continued, "...One day, the person in charge of attending to my group told me something: my mother had another child and divorced my father while in Japan. Of course, you know this person...It was only a year...after that incident.

"So I continued to work harder, throwing myself into dancing and singing, while working part-time jobs to pay for competition entries. I got a permit at twelve and won my first competition at thirteen. Two years later, I auditioned for three companies to debut me in a group. The least popular one and the least financially well-off one was the one who accepted me.

"I...no, we as BTS suffered a lot. No money, no awards, no sense of accomplishment whatsoever. The only thing we had were our fans, each other, and our music. Oh, and the other members had their family too...Suga-hyung's weren't too supportive until the end, though. It seemed...it seemed like those three things were the only things keeping me from just shutting myself in the dorm every day."

His hands were only visible up until the second joint now.

"And then...2018 came," his translucent arms and hands shook when he got to this part, "We were scared...I...I was scared. We finally started seeing some progress with our budget...our music and message even started spreading to the United States. And then...and then...everyone got scared. We disbanded...The final decision came after listening to the last song we would write as BTS...Everyone broke down, and the contract we all signed seven years prior was ripped in half. We all went our separate ways after that...

"Namjoon...Namjoon's attention had already started gradually going to his other job. Jin-hyung went and became an actor. Yoongi-hyung, still with his passion for music, became a piano teacher. Jiminie opened a mochi shop alongside his parents. Taehyung...on behalf of my past, started a traveling carnival, making sure every kid was happy and with their parents. And Jungkook...oh, poor Jungkookie cried the most...He always was the most emotional one out of all of us, despite how buff he was on the outside. When I wanted to quit many years before that moment, if it hadn't been for Jungkook's cries and desperate pleas, I would've left. He started doing odd little side-jobs and became quite good at them. But he never touched a microphone again...A jack of all trades, yet master of none, I would say..."

Sunlight streamed through the windows behind him, so small it was only a glimmer of light. Hoseok's head was blocking it, and the only reason I could see it at all was that it passed through him as if he were a mere hologram.

He must've known this, yet he continued on, acutely aware of the time slipping past his fingers, much like the sun shining through him.

"I don't remember what happened to me after the disbandment. I don't have the slightest recollection of how I died or what I did. I remember sitting next to a river, contemplating on what I should do next, and the next thing I knew was waking up to my ex-members crying over a casket and that I could walk through walls."

Tears, round and glimmering like pearls, raced down his cheeks, competing to reach down his face before there wouldn't be a face to race on. Hoseok attempted to tug at the ends of his hair and realized that his fingers only went through himself.

"...Minami, I've tried. I've tried so hard to remember so Namjoon could figure out what my last hope was before I died...I can't remember. I can't remember! I-I can't disappear if I don't remember what my wish was...Why am I still here, Minami? What's my wish, Minami...?"

Seeing the person I looked up to and sought advice from break down and go into hysterics would've hurt. And it did. But what set me on fire internally was how I couldn't do anything to ease his pain as he did with mine. I could only whisper meaningless comforts and honeyed nothings as I tried to not break down myself.

"I...I don't know, Hoseok...I don't know..."

We sat there crying, drunk on salty liquor and melancholy. Somehow, this was the most solace we could give to each other.

My phone vibrated when a notification popped up, and both mine and Hoseok's eyes traced their way to the source.

'Who could it be at this hour?' I thought, 'It's two o' clock in the mor-'

Though it only felt like scant minutes since Hoseok started and ended his story, I knew my perception of time wouldn't be accurate to even the next hour.

It was Ayumi.

And the clock read 3:55am.

We only had five more minutes.

'NO!' I thought, 'This...this is too soon!'

I thought back to all our previous meetings and conversations. How much did I truly know about Hoseok? About Hope? I realized uselessly then that during our time together, he never exposed a single detail about him.

I didn't know anything: not his birthday, nor his favorite color, favorite food, or what subject of school he hated the most.

His fans were better than I was.

But, I was determined to change that.

"What's your favorite color...?" I feebly asked, head tilted down.

He whipped his head from my phone, surely questioning mentally why I wanted to spend our last moments together by asking filler questions everyone says on the first day of sixth grade.

Yet, his lips parted, and he gave an answer.

"...Green..."

"What's your favorite animal?"

His mouth formed a small smile, and I noticed that his smile, was in the shape of a heart.

"I like dogs..."

"What's your favorite food?"

"Kimchi fried rice..."

"...What was the exact moment you knew you wanted to be a musician?"

"When BTS performed and saw how much love we received from fans and that our music--what we do--could give hope to others."

I paused, the clock reading 3:58am.

"...I love you, Hoseok."

3:59am.

"The feelings, I assure you, are mutual," then, slightly averting eyes he softly said, "...I love you too."

And then, finally, four o'clock came.

__ 

Give these people love! 

@ninjakoko - "The Night of Horror"

@cherryficss - "0.1134"

@christinaxmorton - "Reason"

Don't feel pressured to read all of these in one sitting lol take ur time :] this story will always be here and I will personally fight God to ensure that