CYPHER | BTS

18: DEAR LIFE, I MISS YOU

[i've made a short little trailer for cypher! watch it up there ^ i've also uploaded it to the intro chapter!]

- E I G H T E E N -

May 10, 2020
Sunday

📍Dallas, Texas

༺❀༻

Choi June

It's two in the morning.

The sheets are crumpled and the air is so cold, it eerily touches my skin from beneath the comforter. A light illuminates on my face: the city skyline from the floor-to-ceiling window in my penthouse bedroom. Dallas looks the same from here as it did on that tower crane, but lonelier. Less alive.

Or maybe it's because I'm alone. Maybe.

The guys came back from their mission this afternoon. We went to soundcheck right after they cleaned themselves up. I did Yoongi's makeup like usual, and then they performed for their first show in Dallas. It went well, as do all of their shows. But perhaps no one noticed how distracted Yoongi was on that stage, because no one pointed it out.

He was playing that guitar like a true rock star. He always did. But it didn't necessarily mean his entire head was in the music, like it usually was.

When the show finished, I wanted to talk to him about it. I wanted to understand his demons, and I wanted to sit with him in the dark.

But he and the guys left the stadium quickly, so I thought I'd ask once we got to the penthouse. When I swiped my key and walked inside, half of the Cypher members were getting ready to sleep, or asleep already. Including Yoongi, and so I went to my room and tried to do the same. I figured I could talk to him tomorrow.

But it's hard to sleep now, with all the thoughts roaming in my mind. I found that I'm quite the over-thinker—something I didn't figure out about myself until this tour. Or maybe overthinking was always something that was in me, I just haven't acknowledged it until now.

Still, I'm not going to categorize this as overthinking. I'm just worried. I haven't talked to him since this morning, and I hate how it is, but I want to spend time with him. I like him. Sue me.

He's easy to talk to—you know, when he isn't being a complete dick. He's got a secret heart of gold. He's writing a fucking song about me. He's opened up to me. Plus, he's a great kisser. And you could never go wrong with that.

But it's obvious as I lay in this empty bed, the penthouse eerily quiet, that he's avoiding me. There are a hundred different assumptions I could come up with. I've scared him off, he no longer wants me, I was just a hookup after all, or he came to a chilling conclusion that we're better off strangers.

Either way, the stress eats me up and I can't lay in bed and allow my thoughts to consume me anymore. I need to clear my head, and once upon a time, it was so easy to do that by pressing shuffle on my playlist and staring at the ceiling. But I think I need to punch something. For an hour. Alone.