time diplomat | kim taehyung ✔

| Excuses |

Taehyung put down his laptop, ignoring the chimes from his mobile about a few replies to a silly comment he posted and went straight to his Dad's bedroom. His bed was unmade the morning he left for work, but Taehyung's natural habit of fixing it pushed him forward, making sure to tuck the comforter completely under the pillows, as he preferred it. 

The boy sat on his side of the bed—the right side since his mother apparently always favoured the left, and even with her gone, he still lived his life in two sides, never writing her out— and Taehyung picked up the framed photo of Dad helping him blow out the candles of his cake on his sixth birthday. Well, Dad did all the work. Taehyung was laughing at him. 

He said the gleeful look on his son's face was why he kept that picture so close.

Taehyung knew it was sort of strange, but Dad was just as much his best friend. He could never admit that out loud without someone making fun of him, he was sure, but they've always had a great relationship. Not perfect, but he was sure every two people out there—in his school, in this city, on the other side of the world—struggle with dumb and important things, and the closest pairs just find a way to get over them. 

Taehyung and his dad would never have one of those relationships where they had a falling out and never talked to each other again. Taehyung slipped the photo out of the frame, folded it, and put it in his pocket—the creases won't bother Dad, he didn't think—and got up, making his mind up to meet a friend. A friend he'll miss dearly.

He left his dad's room, pumped to go out and do that, and this was when he saw the stack of dishes in the sink. 

I should clean those up so Dad doesn't wake up to dirty plates and mugs with impossible stains from all the hot chocolate I've been drinking.

I swear this isn't an excuse not to go outside.

Seriously.

_ _ _ _ _

Taehyung was ALMOST ready to go.

He did the dishes, swept dust and candy wrappers out from underneath the couch, mopped the living room floor, wiped the bathroom sink clean of his toothpaste smears, and even made his bed. He sat in front of his notepad and pencil, holding it steadily with a weird thought; How can I sum up my life in eight words?

He Lived In Prison, Died In Prison: Life

"That's a nice album name, huh."

Sucks To Be Him. L M A O

Children Take More Risks Than Him. Say Sike.

No. He shook his head. Taehyung lifted the corners of his lips, trying to produce a smile, and nodded.

Here Lies Taehyung: He Lived for Everyone.

He scribbled it onto the piece of paper, leaving it under the table as he did with all the other stuff he didn't want at that particular moment.

There was no going back. 

He knew it was early in the day, but his chest squeezed because it was also getting late—he was slowly losing all hope in his heart. He wanted to do something but, he didn't know what.

Early winter air pushed through the curtains, brushing against his cheeks. The golden cast of the rising sun painted the city and added a twinkle to the green leaves covered with dewdrops. Taehyung's eyes lit up as they scanned the beautiful city he has nearly spent his entire life in. 

He had made his mind up—he was going to tour around the city—just him and himself.