How Could They

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Reliving the same memory always left Suga in distress. He felt pity for himself and hated the fact that for half of his life, his father had complete control over him. Many people have probably been in the same predicament as him and wished for change.

He knew that he wasn't the only one. And this feeling of acknowledgement needed to be heard. It needed to be listened to by those who wanted a way to escape reality. That was all Suga wished for when he lived with his father. He just wanted acceptance.
Perhaps that's why he wrote until he couldn't. Maybe that's why he felt obligated to make relatable music. His pain could be thier pain...and their pain could be just like his.

Suga sat in his bed with his eyes closed; wishing that the memories of his father would disappear. But of course they didn't. They only persisted in his mind leaving him to wonder why.
He reached up to grip his hair in frustration. With his mind continuing to taunt him, there was no way he could sleep. His eyes began to water as he sighed tiredly; mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted.
He replayed the memory of being in his studio over again.

Suga POV
We were finally given a break from work. I can't lie and say that I'm not tired because I am. But, do I have the privilege of relaxing?

"Lazing around isn't how a man makes a living. You need to grow up and stop being such a weakling. Stand up straight. Nobody would want such a weak BOY like you to do anything for them."

Ah, good old dad. Really knew how to make me feel... What's the word?
Oh yeah, underappreciated, useless, lazy etc.
It's funny how I resent him yet I still care for his opinion. I still want him to be proud of me; it's annoying.
Anyway, back to ideas for the my mixtape. Should it be something unexpected? I wondered.
Well of course it should. We don't Army to get bored with the same things. But how could I switch it up? Maybe-

*ring*
*ring*

'Who's calling me?' I thought as I picked up my phone.
"An unknown number?" I questioned aloud.
Pressing the green answer button, I placed my phone up to my ear. I didn't expect to hear who I did.

"Yoongi."

I immediately froze. That voice. That annoyingly silky voice. It couldn't be him could it? We haven't spoken in years. How did he get my number?
Why is he calling me after all this time?

"...... Father." I said; glaring at my computer screen.
"I've heard that your a big shot now...that's great. Guess you aren't that much of a weakling anymore huh?"
"What the hell do you want?" I asked angrily.
"Got yourself a temper now Yoongi. Guess all of my lessons paid off." He said; his voice barely above a whisper.
"I said what do you want?"

I wondered how he looked now. Even when I was younger he looked too old for his age. His skin was pale; same as mine. He was bigger than me, much bigger. With broad shoulders and an enormous belly. His face always stone with the same black t-shirt and blue jeans. He always wore boots; said he didn't like gym shoes. Apparently they weren't sturdy enough.
Never smiled, although he never frowned either; he was expressionless. Except for that one night.

"Just wanted to say hi. I noticed that we haven't spoken in years. Wanted to catch up."

Catch up? Was this man going to sit here and pretend that he didn't abuse me when I was younger? He was joking right? He really expected me to pretend that I didn't resent him even when he knew I did. This man was a joke. A real piece of work.

"I don't want to reminisce with you old man. Either tell me what you really want or get the hell off of my line." I growled.

"... Your mother said hi."

My mother? What the hell was this bastard saying. Mom died in a car crash. She couldn't be talking to him. What game was he getting at?

"The hell are you talking about bastard?"
"You heard me, SON." He said. He purposely emphasized the word; knowing that I hated when he called me that.

"Don't call me that."
"Why son? I am your father right?"
"You aren't any father to me and you know it."
"Mmm, well your mother know it."

There he goes again. Why does he keep talking about mom? This sick fucker is getting on my nerves.

"Talk about her one more time and I'm gonna-"
"Your gonna do what son?"

I sat in silence. He was right. I couldn't do anything. I didn't know where he was, hell I didn't even know how he got my number. Again, I was left powerless against him

"See son, you can't DO anything. Now as I was saying, your mother says hi and that she misses you."

With my voice shaking I said,
"Mom's dead."

"She never was son. She just had to leave for a short period of tim-"
"What do you mean she's alive? M-mom's dead right?"
"Are you listening Yoongi? This was always a problem with you: you never listened when I was speaking to you."

I dropped my phone on my desk. I couldn't hear him anymore, I could only hear my rapid heartbeat. With my eyes wide, I used my hands to cover my mouth. A scream threatened to come out of my mouth but I refused to let it out.
My mom was alive? But he told me that she was gone. I thought I was the reason for her death. All these years... She was alive? But she never called. Never visited. She left me with her sorry excuse for a husband.
Both of them were playing with my emotions.
Was I game to my parents? They aren't even REAL parents. My own FATHER let me believe that because of my own laziness, my mother DIED. DIED!
Silently I picked up my phone and ended the call. I didn't give a damn about what he had to say anymore. I felt numb and tired. I just needed to escape. How could she? HOW COULD SHE?
I let out an dry chuckle and felt the tears gathering in my eyes. What the hell?
I needed to escape just .... Escape.
I needed to work. Anything to help revert my mind. I didn't want to think about it anymore. My heart hurt too much.
I was disgusted with my parents and I was ashamed of myself. Why? I don't know but the more I thought the harder it was to breathe.
Suga Pov END

Suga needed to drown himself with work. It was the only to distract himself from his own sorrow. But instead he was in his bed with nothing to do. Without a distraction, he couldn't help but think about it.

He wanted to tell his members; he really did but why trouble them? This was something he needed to handle on his own.

He'd never cried before. And if he did, it was only for a short while. But today, he cried like there was no tomorrow. All the pain and sadness that he kept to himself began to arise. It made his entire body shake and his head ache.
He used his hands to hug his body as he cried.

"How could they?" He whispered brokenly to himself.

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