2093, 19th of April.
I walk back home, carrying the fresh bought groceries in my bags. I walk past the well-known musea, showing things from wars, like guns, bullets, outfits and medicines.
The way home is quite boring, so I start to hum softly. Thinking out a new tune. For those who care, I'm 20 years old, and I produce music.
I walk past an old warehouse, a really old one. From 1986, I can tell from the Numbers on the outside. That century was a golden for our country, a lot of money that time. Now this neighbourhood is rich, but probably the most criminal of all the states in this whole continent.
I can tell from the fact Taehyung got shot, without reasons.
I arrive home, and walk in, seeing some post on the doormat. I pick them up and put them on the kitchen table.
I put in all my groceries, and take a look at the letters.
There are 4 of them. 3 bills, I can tell from the collor of the letters.
One of them is collored bloodred. The stamp is formed in shape of a little gun, I believe. I stare at the letter for a while. A gun as stamp?
I open the letter, signed to my name, Jeon Jungkook. My street, Magnumstreet 27P. The paper is slightly yellow, like an old parchment. Better said, it is parchment.
I read my name, and then the date at the top of the letter.
16th of April, 1986.