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Chapter 1

What's wrong?
You've been asking but I don't have an answer
How come?
I'm still thinking, let's pretend to fall asleep now
When we get old, will we regret this?
Too young to think about all that shit
And stallin' only goes so far when you've got a head start

Are you bored yet? - Wallows

"Yoongi-a, I think I'll have to buy the tickets first. The cinema seems full. We wouldn't be able to watch the movie tonight if we buy it later."

I nodded and Hoseok ran inside the cinema, leaving me outside so I won't have to wait inside with a swarm of people -couples, mostly- and get pushed around for standing. An americano would be nice, I thought. Hoseok would take some times to buy the tickets anyways. I should just go to the nearest cafe and wait for him there.

"A-annyeong."

There's a familiar scent. It somehow spiked up my heartbeat before I even get the chance to turn myself around to see the person greeting me. Before I could even begin to collect my thoughts with all the memories flooding inside me, 

I saw her

-----------------------------------

7 years ago, Daegu.

The bell rang. School is over. I could finally walk out of this hell-hole that is just a government excuse to build a uniform society and supress individual creativity. Hoseok isn't around today because he got a dance practice for the school festival. Me, on the other hand, is allergic to anything that would put me on display.

Which is ironic, because all I've ever done in my life is playing piano and writing songs. But that is for later.

Today isn't exactly the best day for me because of yesterday's incident. I can't even call it an incident anymore because it happens almost every week. But it still bums me out everytime it happens. 

I shouldn't do this though, but what the hell. I really need it now. 

I walk to the convenience store and there stood a mid 20s guy that I've known almost my whole life. "Ah, Yoongi-a! School's done already?"

"Oh, Hyung," I greet him. "Please ring me up."

"You know this isn't good, Yoongi. You gotta stop someday."

I nod at him and smile half-heartedly while paying for a pack of marlboro. "Sorry, Hyung. I really need it now."

"Rough time with your dad?"

A bitter smile is all I can give as an answer before walking out the store. Luckily, there's a very small passage beside the store that's almost always empty. I take out a cig and light it up while squatting against a wall. The taste of menthol fills my mouth and blunts my anxiety. I don't even like the smell of smoke, but without my occasional cigarette break, I think I would explode under the pressure.

"Hey, aren't you in my class?"

I jump and throw out my cig immediately from that word. Shit, shit, shit. I just don't have the mental capacity to get suspended from school because of smoking. Can my life get even worse? Yes, it can and I don't even want to try it out.