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circle room talk
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A distant voice roars inside my heavy head, getting closer and louder as every second passes.

I feel someone grabbing and shaking my shoulders lightly, my subconsciousness processing the sudden intruder of my state. The voice is now loud and clear.

"Hey? Are you okay? Oh f— . . . Please open your eyes."

I groan and to the strangers satisfaction he gasps, realizing I'm not a freaking road-kill.

My eyelids flutter before the sun blinds me as I lie on the cold pavement.

When my eyes adjusts, the figure above me also becomes more clear. I squint my eyes, putting my hand in front of my face to shield from the sun, getting a better view of him.

Within an instant my mouth goes dry and my body freezes. What I'm staring up at is no stranger at all — he just looks slightly different.

His black outfit stands in contrast to his milky-white skin, that's almost glistening in the burning September-sun. His hair short and a little spikey, the dark-brown locks capturing his face with a small choppy bang. His brows still marked, but this time they're high on his forehead, a surprised look striking his gorgeous features. His small eyes dark and worried, the same cat-eye shaped ones I've admired for so long and drew countless times. His button nose slightly scrunched up, his pink lips soft and pouty.

"What the—" is the first thing that comes out of my mouth, as I wince my eyes together, still determined that this can't be real.

"I—I'm so sorry that I hit you! You just popped up out of no where."

His voice trembles a tiny bit — the familiar voice that I've been listening to in numerous songs, videos, concerts.

I slowly sit up, my eyes not leaving his face. I shake my head at him, my eyes turning big as I raise my brows in disbelief.

He chuckles, his familiar gummy-smile appearing, making his eyes scrunch up, at the same time that my heart softens witnessing this.

"I'm Min Yoongi."
He says, reaching his hand out for me to grab.

I swallow, staring at his fair, veiny hand before taking a deep breath and grab onto it. He smiles and pulls me up from the pavement, before releasing my hand again.

I dust off my trousers, feeling my cheeks getting warm, before looking him in the eyes. I'm fangirling more than ever on the inside, seeing my freaking bias standing in front of me, all calm and natural.

I bite my bottom lip, a small smile forming on my lips.

"I'm Kang Jia."

"Are you okay? You seemed quite out of it before I uhm. . . hit you." He coughs, rolling his lips against each other.

I breathe in, wondering if I should tell him about what happened or just keep quiet.

"I'm okay, I guess. But— could you perhaps tell me what year we're in?"

A frown occurs on his delicate features, a small chuckle leaving his throat. He tilts his head, biting his lower lip making me scream inside of my head.

"Sure. . . It's 2010. You sure you're okay?"

"Fuck. . ." I sigh unintended, my hand reaching my mouth within an instant, realizing I just cursed out loud in front of him.
"Sorry. Rough day."

His smile reaches his lips again, revealing his white teeth, before he bows down and lifts his bicycle up that was thrown on the ground.

"Don't worry. I get that."

I notice his bike has a basket on each sides, filled with papers and advertisements, almost bursting to the brim.

My eyes lands on the ground around us, where several papers are scattered. I quickly bow down, collecting them alongside with Yoongi, before handing him the pile in my hands, receiving a thankful nod in return.

I glance at the paper on top, filled with scribbles and rhymes. I gasp a little, making sure he doesn't notice.

They're lyrics. Beautiful lyrics.

"You write?" I point at the paper, my voice low and careful not to step across any lines with him. I try to sound as calm as possible.

He sighs, shaking his head a little.

"Yeah. . . Or well, I try to. I'm a rapper, if you could say that." He says, his eyes avoiding mine.

He's embarrassed.

"A good one it seems like. These lyrics are beautiful."

He shrugs his shoulders at my compliment, not knowing what to say next, as he plops in the papers to the basket, the one with lyrics carefully placed in his back pocket of his black jeans.

"Well, you can judge for yourself if you'd like. I'm having a show tonight with my group in the inner city," he shyly hands me a poster that's crumbled from the crash, "We're called D-Town."

I swallow as I look down on the poster. I can't believe this is happening.

I'm in Daegu, the year is 2010.
Yoongi is in front of me.
Min freaking Yoongi is in D-town, not BTS. They haven't even debuted yet.

"I'd love to," I say my eyes brightening up, forgetting about my current situation — "But I don't really know Daegu. I'm not from here."

We start walking side by side down the sidewalk, the soft wind blowing my dark hair in front of my face. His eyes darts to me, his eyes scrunching up, as he spots me desperately trying to remove the locks from my eyes. He rolls his lips together before speaking up once more.

"Where are you from then?"

"I'm from Seoul."

"Ah. A big—city girl, huh?" He slyly says, his confidence building up more as time passes.

I raise my brows, pursing my lips out.
"Daegu is a big city as well, if you haven't noticed." I cock up an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle.

I put my cold hands in the pockets of my oversized black denim-jacket, placing my AirPods in their case. Yoongi shuffles beside me, his gaze fixing on the small headphones.

"Wow— what are those?"

I snort, "Yah, what do you mea—"
But then I realize that he really doesn't know yet.

My lips part, staring at the little white items in my palm. He reaches out, a questioning look on his face, asking for permission to grab them. I nod at him, watching his eyes light up as he admires the technical thingy in his hands. He turns them around, watching them carefully.

I can't help but smile at his fascination, the one I know he have for stuff like this.

"Apple made these? But how come I haven't seen them anywhere?" His voice is high-pitched, as he scratches his head in wonder.

"It's because. . . They're not out yet. These are a sample." I say, hesitating to make up any further explanation.

"So you're that kind of special," He says, his brown eyes fixed on mine making my cheeks warm up, "But what exactly do they do?"

"You listen to music with them. Hear, listen."
I reach for my phone in my pocket, quickly diverting from my home screen that's an OT7 picture, before connecting the two divices, as I signal for Yoongi to place them in his ears.

He does as I please, before I press the play-botton. His face lights up, his mouth parting in amusement.

"Wah— That's so cool. They look all futuristic." He smiles, taking out the Pods and place them in my palm once again.

I feel a chill form on my body, making goosebumps rise on my neck as he speaks. I just swallow and put on a smile for him, but it fades just as fast when I look ahead.

Oh he should know. . .

He suddenly stops in his tracks, making me hold back as well.

"Just a minute and I'll be back." He looks at me, taking his bike with him.

I stay still, having no idea where I am. I glance around at the surrounding houses, some of them small and somehow lacking the home-feeling. The neighborhood we're currently in seem to be poor.

I swallow, knowing that Yoongi comes from a poor background, struggling with money. It must be his home.

The cold wind blows around leafs on the ground, the orangey and red colors whirling up in the air as I hear footsteps nearing me once again.

I glance up, my eyes landing on Yoongi now in a new outfit — still black jeans, but he threw on a bright red t-shirt to match his flustered cheeks. His hair is styled a bit more, the brown hair now in little spikes. A big golden chain glistens around his neck, alongside a golden wrist-watch placed on his thin arm.

I smile to myself, knowing how 2019 Yoongi would've disliked that outfit.

"You look nice." I say genuinely, watching his gummy-smile appear once more.

"I have to — I have a performance to nail and a pretty girl to impress." His eyes narrows at my figure, a little smirk following his words.

I look to my feet and giggle nervously feeling my cheeks burn, the scenario still unreal to me.

Is this really happening?

He nudges at my sleeve, making me dart up my eyes once more, seeing him throwing a backpack over his shoulder as he signals for me to follow him.

"I'll show you how we do things in Daegu, Jia."

I scream. On the inside of course.

Oh my god.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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