Missing Halo | bts + k.th

Muse

Some people aren't meant for this world.

      Some people are only put here so that the word "perfect" can continue to be nonexistent and meaningless. Those people hold no purpose. They walk down a path that leads to a cliff. They fall. They die. They're gone. Another fuck up is reborn.

      The people who are meant for this world? They're all angels who refuse to interact with us. We were angels once, too. We're just missing our halo's.

I believe that in life, everyone gets a chance. A chance to find their halo's. A chance to get their wings. Not everyone takes that chance. It is a chance, after all.

And chances are risky.

      Take this boy for example. He doesn't talk much. He's lonely. He's depressed. I can see it in his eyes. He longs for comfort, but no one seems to like him. He's just another fuck up who's destined to fall. He burned his halo. He chose to give up. He's simply hopeless, and there's nothing he can do.

Jin closed his notebook and leaned back in his chair. The library was quiet as usual. No one ever came to the library in the mornings. No one liked quiet.

Jin was new. He transferred from Gwangju after his father died. He hated high school. He hated people. But he enjoyed writing. He loved reading poetry, it was like reading a person's thoughts without confronting them. He avoided any human interaction.

Did he mention that he hated people?

Though, right now, he found himself staring at a boy who was reading a book on the other side of the room. The boy wasn't new. He had been at the high school since freshman year.

They were juniors, now.

      What was his name? Was it... T-Tay? T-Taehy- oh, whatever. It wasn't important, at least not to Jin. Though, he referred to him as the "Fallen Angel," in his mind.

Although Jin hated people, he found something oddly interesting about the lonely boy. In English class, they had to write a paper about a person, but they had to leave that person's identity anonymous. Jin chose the Fallen Angel as his subject. As his person. As his muse. He didn't know why, there was just something... Special, about him. Jin sensed something dark, something bad.

He liked it.

      He could almost see the storm brewing in the fallen boy's mind. He picked up his pencil and continued to write.