Hoseok's hand held his in a firm yet gentle hold as the younger walked a few steps ahead of Yoongi, guiding him to the secret place.
The bitterly cold wind howls in Yoongi's ears, his eyes tearing up slightly as he feels his nose getting numbed. He struggles to breathe slightly, the sudden rush of air fills his lungs which had previously been consumed by the stale air from being locked up in his studio. The sudden drop in temperature had caused his exposed skin to turn a blush red, clearly visible on his pale skin. Similar to those formed from the scars on his thighs, except these didn't hurt- not in the way he craved.
Yoongi had begun to pant slightly, struggling to intake all the fresh air which blew in his face as his misty eyes glanced around the isolated street Hoseok was pulling him through. They had moved more inwards in the city, the commercial lights from buildings and billboards had dimmed down, being replaced by the neon street lights and other small lights outside closed shops.
Yoongi had never been to that part of the city before; since he had moved from Daegu, he had been too caught up in practice and writing songs and work in general that he had forgotten to live- his state of being merely being that of a plain existence. Perhaps that would be his biggest regret, when he'd finally die, that his memories were simple of a glaring screen, harsh words and gone-by moments- that he'd only remember a reflection of what his life could have been if, only for a moment, he could silence his thoughts and actually live without having to constantly try and look into the future.
Yoongi barely registered the change of pale yellow lights to neon bright lights, nor did he notice the slight thumping sound of the bass and unintelligible noises which he would later realize was party music. Hoseok's grip on his hand remained stable, leading his wondering mind and body through the labyrinth of the city Yoongi barely knew.
It wasn't until the usual well atmosphere was replaced by the dark and damp setting of the seemingly abandoned building that Yoongi noticed where Hoseok was leading him to.
His steps staggered slightly, reluctant as his eyes raced around the empty building. It was old, with remains what he supposed was a lobby or a seating area of some sort. Certainly, it was seen better days, the once white walls (at least Yoongi thought they were white) were a sickly grey with green undertones. There was some sort of fungus growing on the edges of the walls and the large wooden table in the center of the room had odd red stains on it. A marble top counter lined the left wall- small chips breaking off. The room had a few dying plants littered around the room, dead leaves decorating the floor. It was clear the building had been vacant for a while now. A small white light seemed to be the only thing which was maintained, managing to provide sufficient light to see everything whilst being small and right at the center of the ceiling. The air was stale and dust (a bit like his studio) but at least there weren't any bugs (hopefully).
"Seok-ah... what is this place?"
Yoongi turned to look at Hoseok who was already making his way to another door across the room, Yoongi followed his suit.
Surprisingly, the door opened to those elevators which required the doors to be closed manually. It had been a while since Yoongi had seen those, the modern city of Seoul updated itself every day, technology and ideas being dropped every day as new innovations and trends overtook them- only to be eventually replaced again. Maybe that's what made it so hard to pursue a career of an idol- what people wanted changed every day. To maintain and live up the ideal expectations held by fans and potential business partners involved constantly changing oneself to fit into the fantasy everyone wanted. It was hard to fake a new personality and pretend to be the perfect person to be someone's idol for it had reached the point at which many forget their real personalities and had even replaced by what the people wanted them to be.
He'd seen many idols and celebrities alike who were a striking contrast to the people they used to be when they were in school, some becoming more outgoing and friendly- others rude and arrogant. He'd also seen many idols change drastically when the cameras stopped rolling; their gentle and soft personalities were drowned out by egoistic and brash. But perhaps it wasn't just the entertainment industry where this was witnessed, people were changing every day; the way they behaved and reacted to certain antics always managed to differ from what they would have done had they found themselves in that situation a while back, and sometimes that while is as small as a month. To suffice, people change; sometimes perhaps morphing into the person they pretend to be- Yoongi has morphed into a person he would have pitifully shaken his head at if he were still 18 and naive.
The elevator lets out a deep, low rumble before beginning to trudge upwards. Hoseok's eyes pry the upward part of the elevator as the numbers slow change with each passing floor. Yoongi's eyes stay trained on his worn down shoes; he's had them since he turned 16- he's not really grown much. quite obviously.
The elevator lets out a slight ding as it halts to a stop. Hoseo immediately opens to door, quick on his feet while the only thing Yoongi moves are his eyes as the scan Hoseok's movements cautiously as if the younger were about to pull out a knife on him. Hoseok finally manages to open the first barrier of the lift and quickly pushes open the outer door, stepping out and taking a deep breath. Yoongi follows him quickly, noticing the cool air which now surrounds them. It is colder than when they were down on the street due to the fact that they were now on a higher altitude.
Yoongi side steps Hoseok (who busies himself with stretching his arms above his head). The roof - where Yoongi assumes they are- is wide and seems to have multiple sides. The side where the elevator opens up to faces a dark alley, likely to be the one they came from. The wind blows stronger where they stand and it isn't long until he's covered with goosebumps. The sight beneath him isn't really something to behold, an empty lane with a single street lamp lighting up a small patch under which a stray cat naps. He hasn't seen a stray cat since he moved to Seoul, unlike the countless dogs he's seen just lying around.
Hoseok taps his shoulder and as Yoongi turns to face him, Hoseok has already managed to rotate his body 270 degrees and motions for Yoongi to follow him, who does so without a voice of complaint. He watches Hoseok's back, spotting the corner of a pain relief patch which peaks out of his shirt. A pang of guilt fills him up, his members have been working so hard, Hoseok and Jimin stay at the practice room almost every second it is available polishing their choreographies and improving their own skills. Jungkook always follows whatever the other members tell him willfully, spending hours in the vocal with Seokjin and Taehyung, trying to expand his vocal range. Namjoon spends hours splayed over his notes, notebooks filled with lyrics and different rhythms. Sometimes (read: most of the times) Yoongi finds himself lacking, it just doesn't seem to him that his efforts may be satisfactory. A little bit more - it has become his mantra, a little bit more time in the studio and the songs will be catchy. A little bit more time staring at the mirror and his flaws will miraculously disappear. A little bit more time while hunger pangs in his stomach threaten to collapse his entire body system and he'll be considered one of the good-looking members. A little bit more cuts on his thighs, because it is what he deserves. When a little bit more cynicism turned into a too self-critical mindset that refused to see his own worth, he didn't know. He just woke up one day and realized that every time he looked at himself in the mirror, it was only disgust and abhorrence which greeted him.
Hoseok leaned against the dirty railing, least bothered by what that rusted metal skeleton had seen. Yoongi follows him, his sweater sleeves a barrier to the rust. He looks down on the scene beneath him and it's quite a contrast from the one he had previously seen. There are lights, city lights decorating the entire landscape. Mixtures of blues and reds, swirls of yellows and random lines of bright white lines drawn across the canvas the city holds. At a distance, skyscrapers emerge from a crowd of small two-storeyed houses and seem to surround the whole city, a protective barrier of sorts. Cars flash by at a distance, neon lights glare back at the quaint residential sides as the wild nightlife of the city merges with the silent housing area. There's a park at a distance, the swing sways slightly in the wind. There's a rush of water somewhere nearby, someone's screaming - a playful scream followed by laughter. The sound is far away yet clear against the heavy silence which drapes over the houses. The treetops have a layer of snow covering them, glittering under the streetlights and the moonlight. It is a full moon, Yoongi notices. The moon, bright and large against the black abyss of the cloudless sky. Yoongi's breath catches in his throat. He's never seen Seoul like this. So alive yet so dead, a paradoxical existence Yoongi would have never guessed resides on the same planet he has been living on his entire life. Clouds of steam leave his mouth with each breath and he sees Hoseok cackle at him slightly as his mouth hangs open.
"It's pretty, huh?"
"Try gorgeous."
The words leave Yoongi's mouth before he is even aware of what he has whispered into the air.
Hoseok laughs again, a low rumble; like a trusty yet old motorbike starting up. He shakes his head slightly, fondness evident in his eyes. He turns to look the city staring at him, a smile on his lips.
It feels as if they could be the only two people in the world left if it weren't the echoes of inaudible words ringing in the air from drunks who truly have no care left in the world. It feels oddly intimate, to hear such private information slurred out by the compromised judgment o people he has never met. In a sad sense of irony, it feels as if this is the closest Yoongi has ever gotten to a person.
"How did you find this place, Seok?"
His voice holds pure curiosity, never having taken Hoseok for the particularly adventurous type.
"Just...some random day, I was walking by and..."
The way Hoseok speaks makes it clear to Yoongi that he is carding through his words carefully, his mind churning into producing coherent content sufficient to dispel Yoongi's curiosity without giving away too much.
Hoseok sighs, turning to look at Yoongi.
"I was alone, lonely and kinda sad. This building was the only one which looked abandoned, I tried the door and here I was."
"Why were you looking for an abandoned building in the first place?"
"What can you possibly do at an abandoned building?"
"Hunt for ghosts?"
"No silly! I just...wanted to be alone."
Hoseok's voice is barely a whisper towards the end of the sentence, there's something Hoseok is withholding. He wants to tell Yoongi, but he is holding himself back. Yoongi knows, only a little prying will lead to Hoseok spilling everything.
"Why here?"
"I don't know...it was just the best place i found."
Yoongi places his hand on his shoulder, " You don't have to be alone, Hoseok-ah."
Yoongi could have laughed at the irony.
Hoseok lets out a half-hearted smile, "It's...it's not that simple, hyung."
"Is anything simple?"
A half-hearted chuckle escapes Hoseok's lips, "You won't understand."
"Understand what? Feeling lonely? Everyone feels lonely once in a while, but that doesn't mean you really are alone you know- just know that you aren't alone hoseok. I know at least 5 people who would give up their entire lives to dedicate it to you, and you alone."
Hoseok smiles at his shoes, a sad smile as if Yoongi would never understand the sadness he feels.
"How do you do it hyung?"
Yoongi's taken back slightly the change in question, but he does his best to maintain a neutral tone.
"Do what?"
Hoseok fiddles with his hands, his gaze shifting upwards at the city.
"I don't know, everything?"
"Well, I wake up every morning and think about what I have to do, then I switch off my phone so I don't get distracted and-"
"Not that- how do you be so strong? How do you go through it all and still be so... I don't know, happy?"
Yoongi laughs at that, he doesn't mean to, but the illusion Hoseok holds of him just jolts him out of his neutral, helpful facade and catches him off guard.
Hoseok turns to look at him, at his sudden outburst, wide-eyed and startled.
Yoongi's eyes stay trained on the city.
"I'm not always strong, I have my downs too."
"Yeah but it's not like mine, it's not like- you know what, forget it...you won't understand."
"Why won't I?"
"You don't know how I feel, you don't really know what true sadness feels like, you are just always lost in your music to really see others around, to really look at them and know."
The way Hoseok says those words creates an illusion of malicious intent, Yoongi can't pinpoint if it really exists.
"I-"
"It's okay, just forget it. I don't expect you to understand, just don't drift so far away from reality."
And Yoongi can't help it, he doesn't know what triggers him; the way Hoseok's words sound like an accusation or the fact what Hoseok spews out cannot be further from the truth. He wants to be as how Hoseok described, he wants to a blissfully unaware friend; instead of being the withdrawn one constantly trapped in his own head. He wants to be the strong, bright fighter Hoseok thinks of him to be rather than the ragged, beaten down soldier trapped in a trench with the landmines of his own self-loathing surrounding him. The words leave his mouth faster than he can stop and rethink his words, be cautious and aware. Like a dam finally bursting open when the water overflows, his capacity to contain has been exceeded and the only thing which can be bought by that is destruction.
"Drift away from reality? Reality has bound me to the ground with shackles so heavy I cannot even move, I am stuck in this loop, going round and round and round and just smiling, just standing there stuck and smiling because that's all that has come of me. A sorry excuse of a man pretending that the world falling apart in his hand isn't is-I"
He draws a deep breath when he notices he's ranting, there is a burning in his throat and a headache, the pain in his chest reminds him of the reality of the situation and the hard wind of his face makes it harder to breathe. He feels tears pooling in his eyes, and fatigue- heavy rooted fatigue which has made a home in his bones finally take over him. He's just so tired, so tired of everything. Of standing, of trying, of staying awake, he craves to sleep all of a sudden. Sleep and never wake up, just let the darkness take over him, after all, it can't be that much different for he is already dead mentally. Min Yoongi died a long time ago and the man in front of Hoseok is the empty shell he forgot to take with him.
"I'm just so tired, Hoseok." He locks eyes with Hoseok, who is still recovering from Yoongi's words. "I've just been pretending for so long that everyone just assumes I'm strong but its a lie, I'm weak! I'm pathetic and I haven't felt fine in so long that I don't even remember a life without this-this stupid heaviness and I just, I don't know, everything hurts, Seok-ah, it really does."
Wordlessly, Hoseok reaches out to Yoongi, his movements slow and cautious. He doesn't know what to do, never had he ever expected Yoongi to crumple in his arms, the hyung who looked like he could carry the whole world on his shoulders- he would have never been able to imagine would have been so bruised and broken. There are tears streaming down Yoongi's face, his eyes glossy and tired, they look so defeated and Hoseok hates himself. For never noticing, for never asking, for letting Yoongi push himself into this endless gorge of loneliness and depression.
"It's been really hard, Hoseok, it's been a really tiring few months Hoseok, I've tried so hard but I just..."
Yoongi cuts himself off, allowing himself to cry after so long. It had been building up inside him for a while, in the form of frustration and fatigue and hatred and it was bound to boil over; just as it had previously. But this time, he wasn't crying quietly into his duvet or in his arms but inside surrounded by a warm body and a familiar smell. And in that moment, as Hoseok rubbed his arms down Yoongi's back, Yoongi forced himself that maybe, just maybe, Hoseok could help him.
That just maybe, Yoongi would remember again what happiness feels like.
I know i should have updated earlier, im sorry, i just had some personal issues. but anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter :) the story has finally picked up momentum, i hope you guys stick around for the end :) im sorry for any mistakes, and thank you so much for reading.