Hobi's Demands • JHS

Thirty Seven

You already knew you weren't going to his apartment, not after work, not at all. So he knew how you felt for him, and chose to treat you badly anyway? It would have felt less harsh if he hadn't known he was jerking your emotions around.

You didn't bother texting, you were done with Mr Egotistical and his games. He was high on his importance and casually messed around with the people around him. Seeing him kissing that back up dancer should have ended everything. It should have painted the picture for you that Jung Hoseok was always going to get pleasure wherever he wanted.

Why were you so hell bent on keeping the idea that he was J-Hope? Why couldn't you accept that the personas Bang PD curated for the boys were just that? He wasn't the public figure everyone thought he was, none of them were. He was gorgeous and talented, and probably even caring and thoughtful, but that didn't make him a model figure that you had to be so damned forgiving toward.

Ji-woo's mother arrived shortly after six and you helped her get Nabi settled into the carseat before heading back to your apartment. You'd already broken a major boundary, you'd already told him it was over, at least you'd done it on the phone instead of with silence.

Back in your apartment you sat down at your keyboard, slipping the headphones over your ears. You weren't going to play, just listen to the two trash pieces of music you'd already written. After that you'd erase them and make quick work of shoving everything under your bed. You placed the headphone back on their stand and knelt on the floor.

To prove to yourself that your really intended to be finished you slid the keyboard case toward you. The latches popped open beneath your fingers and you lifted the lid, black velvet interior exposed. Nestled in the indentation was an envelope with your name neatly penned on the front. You didn't recognize the handwriting which made your stomach clench, that meant it hadn't been left by your father. You did recognize the stationary, it was yours from your bookshelf.

Timidly you picked it up and turned it over. It was sealed and written across the seam where the glue held it shut was a simple message in small letters; 'read when you feel like giving up'. A warm tear ran down your face, you'd not even felt yourself begin to cry.

You ripped it open with a fingernail but hesitated when you went to pull out the note. You wanted to be angry at Hobi, you wanted to think only the very worst things about him. If you read what he wrote, could you keep being upset with him?

'Y/N,

I promised I wouldn't ask you about your music. I'm keeping my promise, but if you're reading this, you're probably thinking about quitting. I don't know why you gave up on it the first time. Maybe someday you'll tell me, and I'll understand, but today, don't walk away. If it's a song that's made you angry, write a different one. If it's someone that's made you frustrated, write a diss track. If it's me that's made you upset, punch me. If you need some inspiration I can lock you into a studio with Yoongi. But don't take it out on something that you're amazing at, because you really are meant for music.

-Jung Hoseok'

You were crying hard, the rough shaky breaths of someone who'd lost control, but you stood up and stomped to your front door. You almost paused to change your mind but instead yanked it open. You heard it slam shut behind loud enough to disturb your neighbors you as you made your way to the elevator. You pushed the up button too harshly with one stabbing finger and grimaced at the pain.

When it opened there were already people inside and they looked at you oddly, probably because your face was streaked with tears. If it wasn't that your nose was also red and runny, your cheeks ruddy, eyes puffy. You pressed 21, and you wondered if they were looking at you as if you were a maid or personal assistant. Clearly you were slightly unhinged, clutching a piece of crumbled paper in your hand, if you had been them it might have unnerved you.