"Mr. Min! How exactly did you figure out the math theorem?"
"Mr. Min, how long did it take you to solve the theorem?"
"Mr. Min, was the theorem as hard as they say it was?"
"Mr. Min! I have a question!"
"Mr. Min!"
"This way please!"
"Mr. Min, over here please!"
"Min Yoongi, can we have a word please!"
"Mr. Yoongi, look this way please!"
"Mr. Min!"
"Mr. Min!"
"Mr. Min!"
"Mr. Min!"
Yoongi sat on the cold hard floor. He was currently backstage as he heard multiple journalists screaming his name, asking for him to come back out and answer their questions.
His hands were covering his ears, his eyes were closed shut as tears streamed down his face, and his knees were pulled up to his chest. He violently trembled as he silently pleaded, he begged, he prayed for the voices to stop.
He just wanted the journalist to simply shut up and leave.
How did it all come to this you may ask.
It all started when Yoongi was in his math class, learning about some century-old math theorem that was never solved, but somehow Yoongi knew the solution.
It was a fairly simple equation and the ebony haired male simply thought that all the mathematicians were overthinking the solution, so he did what any lazy person would do, he tried to solve it using only basic math because he was too lazy to come up with some over the top and extravagant equation.
But as it turns out, Yoongis laziness and his basic equation was the solution to the math theorem. Ever since the day he solved the theorem, he has appeared on news broadcasts, radio shows, conferences, and other public appearances.
But, Yoongi didn't want this kind of attention. He liked to stay home alone and write lyrics on his notebook or use his cheap equipment to produce beats and melodies. He didn't really enjoy going out and having social interactions, if anything, he hated the sunlight just as much as he hated social situations. He just wanted to be alone with his music. It was the only thing that could help him with his social phobia and anxiety.
Now, Yoongi is being dragged from state to state, from country to country, all of this just so some journalist could ask the same questions that were already previously answered at another interview.
Yoongi didn't like it, he didn't like all the attention he was receiving. He felt pressured and some odd responsibility to keep the image of a prodigy because that's what they called him. A teenage prodigy. The anxiety he held didn't help either.
And now, there he was, sitting down backstage after he just finished another press conference, holding himself and attempting to block out any traces of reality as he cried.
The screams and the please from the journalist that were begging Yoongi to come back out and answer their questions echoed all around him.
He didn't want all go these eyes staring at him, watching him, observing his every move, waiting to see if he will solve another great mystery.
Yoongi felt like he was being controlled, watched, he couldn't do what he could previously do. Every single move was being taken into account.
If Yoongi slipped up, it could cost him and his family a great deal of humiliation and loss of respect, so Yoongi just does what he thinks is best, he continues to act like a prodigy.
He attempts to answer every question in the most sophisticated and complicated way possible in an attempt to keep his image as a prodigy.
But it isn't easy.
Pretending to be someone you're not, pretending to be this amazing person who just solved one of the greatest mysteries ever, it was exhausting both mentally and physically.
Yoongi didn't know what to do.
He couldn't cope with all the pressure, the demand, the expectations, the attention, he just couldn't take it.
He couldn't handle it all, it was slowly breaking him apart, piece by piece.
So he did what any normal person would do, he tried to find a way to cope.
Yoongi stood up and quickly walked to the bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror.
Why are you so afraid of people damn it!
Yoongi yelled at himself through the mirror.
Stop being so anxious!
The black haired male couldn't help but feel hatred towards himself for having anxiety and social phobia. It wasn't a great match for someone who had to attend many interviews and conferences, surrounded by people who fought each other to get the teenagers attention.
He quickly turned on the faucet and splashed himself with water in an attempt to regain his composure, but ultimately failing in the end.
Yoongi stood there, staring at his reflection for what seemed like hours on end.
"Yoongi? Are you in there?" The sweet and caring voice suddenly snapped Yoongi out of his trance. He ripped his eyes away from the mirror in front of him before quickly drying his face and leaving the bathroom.
"Yoongi?" The younger didn't say anything but instead buried his face in the wide shoulder of the older.
"Jin, I wanna go home..." Yoongi said in a faint voice as he continued to nuzzle his face into the elder's shoulder.
"I know, but we have one more interview left, you can pull through, right?" Jin encouraged the younger as he affectionately ran his fingers through the teenager's soft black locks.
Seokjin was Yoongis manager, he was 26 years old and ever since Yoongi met him, he has been able to find warmth and comfort from the older in the midst of all the hysteria. He was almost like an older brother to him.
Yoongi lifted his head from Jin's shoulder and gave him a faint and tired nod before holding Jin's hand and walking out onto the set where the interview will take place.
Jin let go of Yoongi and walked behind the camera, he was standing beside Yoongis team.
Yoongi tried to keep his eyes open while at the same time trying to keep his nerves from getting out of hand.
The lights went on, the cameras started rolling, and a forced smile spread across Yoongis face.
Each and every question was answered enthusiastically. His smile never left his face and he didn't show any signs of being tired.
It was always like this.
Yoongi didn't even have the chance to be a normal school boy anymore.
It was always an interview after another, conference after conference, meetings after meetings.
He didn't have time to do anything anymore, he didn't go to school and he started to lose contact with some of his friends.
He didn't have time to produce beats, melodies, and lyrics anymore.
His time at his high school became almost nonexistent. He only attended school for about a week each month.
He didn't want any of this.
He wanted to be home, locked up in his room with his music. He wanted to go to school and be annoyed by Hoseoks lame jokes and be surrounded by his annoyingly bright personality.
He wanted to be yelled at by this teachers for falling asleep in class again. He wanted to write down song lyrics in his notebook instead of writing down notes about the periodic table.
He just wanted to be a normal high school student again.
~•📖•~
Thank you for reading!