Collision

Chapter 45

"Of course," Namjoon replies, straightening from his chair. He pulls out his phone, tapping away at something. He connects a wire, headphones if Jeongguk recalls, and then places the buds in his ears.

Music starts to play.

There a beat, then familiar breathing that was a bit exaggerated, before he heard the rasp of a voice that sent his blood on fire. Jeongguk withheld a shiver, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

There was something melancholy about the tone, a hint of anger that gave his voice something deeper. Something almost painful but determined. A rage that was barely contained.

Min Yoongi is dead (I killed him)

Jeongguk bit his lip, eyes darting down to the table as he listened to Yoongi's raw anger. The bitter acid that fell from his mouth in sharpened barbs shaped like words.

The way Yoongi spoke of his past, of the hatred for himself, and how the success he was building was seeming to swallow him as the green-eyed monster became his companion.

And Jeongguk understood. Because he knew that he was never like his brother. That his parents pretended he didn't exist. The success that he wanted was what he needed to feel validated.

The words morphed, changing to determination to be better, that he wasn't going to let his mental state ruin him. That he was going to be better, that everything was okay.

Jeongguk's lips twitched into a smile, feeling the passion behind his words, the desire to step further into the spotlight and feed not his ego, but his pride in knowing that he wants to be better for himself.

When the song was done, he removed his earbuds, raising his head to meet Namjoon's steady gaze. He took it back. "That song is the last song he ever produced, released a week before the incident in Daegu." A bitter smile touched his lips. "Ironic that the title of it is "The Last"."

"Before he stopped," Jeongguk concluded, the sadness returned. He could feel the talent, even if he didn't fully understand it, and he ached for Yoongi. He wished he could see him play the piano, to hear him.

Namjoon's face saddened further. "He told me once that he feels like music has taken too much of him, that he could make his pain and suffering into something beautiful, but in the end he couldn't." A bitterness tinged his words. "He said he couldn't make it beautiful, but honestly? I think he was talking more about himself rather than his music."

Jeongguk frowns, cocking his head to the side curiously. "You think that he thinks he is broken? That he isn't beautiful?"

"I don't know what he thinks. If I had to guess, I would say he is scared to let music get close to him, in fear that it can be taken away."

Soaking in the words, Jeongguk flickered his eyes back towards the bedroom door where Yoongi was still nestled. There were times when Yoongi would get this look on his face, withdrawn and unsure, and he wondered if what Namjoon said was right.

He forces a smile. "Thank you for sharing with me, Namjoon."

Namjoon smiles, brightening, and his cheeks a hint pink. "Anytime. Do you need anything else?"

"I- I don't... I can't really, um, read?" Jeongguk felt embarrassment burn hot in his system as he turned away. "Yoongi couldn't really teach me, because of, um, his eyes, but I want to be helpful to him. I wanted to learn...I think."

"Oh, of course," Namjoon said, bounding up from his chair and hurrying to his bag where he pulled out a sketchbook. He handed it to Jeongguk with a shy smile. "Here; I bought this for Jin since he likes to doodle sometimes, but I think you should have it. I will teach you the basics of Hangul."