I See Colors | Taegi

twenty-three

I denied Hoseok's request to eat with them again.
Although I feel bad,
I also feel bad for leaving Yoongi
for the past two days.

   There's some mumbles
   inside the music room,
   and I open the door.

   "-but he's pretty much just dumb,
   you know..."

   The first thing I see
   is that same girl
who decided to use her dare on me yesterday
   sitting on the chair
   I usually sit at.

The next thing I see
is Yoongi sitting next to her.
He looks
tired.

   "Oh.
   Hi."
   She waves at me.
   "Yoongi was just helping me with math.
   I'll leave now."

   She stands from the seat
   and walks towards me.

   "Frickin' weirdo."

The door shuts behind me.

   I stare at the tile floor,
   not wanting to look back at Yoongi.
   Though she whispered,
   I can tell she didn't only want me to hear it.

   "Is this how people treat you?"

   I keep my head down
   while I walk to the chair,
   drop my bag next to it,
   and sit.
My speed is slow
so that I can look more relaxed
than I actually am.

   "Sort of."

   I hear some sort of movement next to me,
   but I force my curious eyes
   not to observe,
   like how a kid forces themself to look away
   from the sun.

   "Did you do something
   bad?"

   I shrug
   because I don't have an answer.

   "I tried being myself,
   but no one seems to care about
   originality."

   The buzzing of the lights
   takes over my voice
   and I no longer want to speak.

   Some part of me wishes that
   I never acted as myself.

   I know that I have another argument in me,
   but I can't find it
   in all of my other thoughts
that are arguing with each other.

   Gossiping is like a void.
   It's close to nothing,
   yet people are interested in it
   because of the one or two faint galaxies
   it does have.

   "Can I rest on your shoulder?"

   I zone back in
   and get back to Earth.

   "Um...
   Sure...?"

   I hear a groan from the chair next to me.

   A warm yet heavy head
   touches my shoulder.
He's distant at first,
but every five seconds,
his head relaxes
a little more.

This goes on
until he seems to have no muscles left
to ease.

   I fiddle with my damp fingers,
   as my mind wants to go back to seeing the universe
   instead of a single planet.

   "Everyone's a freak.
   Some freaks are just afraid
   to see the hate."

   The voice near my ear
   reaches my heart
   in a way that I'm not used to.

   "...Thank you,
   Yoongi."

   The response is a soft snore
   from the pianist who tastes like
   mint vanilla.