little space → yoonmin

twenty four

Yoongi's earliest memory of Jimin is one that took place in his junior year of high school, when Jimin was still a sophomore. Yoongi had a habit of just walking until he got lost, to clear his thoughts or just because, and one night around eleven he found himself in the middle of the park, the only light available coming from the moonlight reflecting off the pond to the right of him. It was the day after final exams, all of which he was sure he'd passed with no higher than a C-, and he needed to clear his mind.

So there he was, standing in the middle of a (n almost) pitch black park, when the sound of laughing caught his attention. He turned towards it and peered into the darkness. Of course he didn't see anything at first, but the longer he stared the easier it was to make out a figure sitting at the top of the slide, laughing down to his toes.

"Hello?" Yoongi called out, making his way towards the slide slowly. He wasn't sure if the person laughing was alone, or why exactly they were laughing, and he didn't want to walk into the middle of some weird exhibitionist act.

"Hi," came the voice again, and Yoongi thought it safe to climb the ladder to the top of the slide. He found a boy there, huddled in a heavy sweater and looking positively downtrodden, despite having been laughing a minute before. "How are you?"

Yoongi was taken aback, but found himself sitting down on the top rung, slotting his legs through the hole so he could swing them eight feet above the ground. "I'm good, how are you?" Yoongi wanted to ask why he was out so late, alone in a park laughing to himself, but Yoongi was also out late, alone in a park (albeit not laughing at seemingly nothing) and couldn't really be hypocritical.

"Oh you know, fine, because everyone's always fine, right? No one asks how are you looking for a genuine answer; because if you do – answer genuinely, I mean – you're labelled as an attention whore who makes up stories for sympathy. But then again, if you lie, you're also an attention whore who stays enigmatic to garner the attention of those who only want to get to know you to exploit your secrets." Yoongi nodded along, not expecting such a philosophical answer to a simple question. But Yoongi guessed the strange boy was right. There's no winning in the world, someone is always offended or upset, no matter what you say.

"Well then, from one attention whore to another, my day was awful. I think I failed all my exams and I might not be able to pass the grade. Want to tell me why you're in the park all alone laughing at nothing?" Yoongi asked, and he wanted to reach into his phone and turn on the flashlight – the lack of light was starting to make him anxious, he hated not being able to see things; know exactly where they are and what's happening around him – but he figured he needed to respect the boys privacy.

The boy laughed, but this time it was rueful and not at all like before - light and airy, almost to the point where Yoongi could convince himself that the boy was happy. (Of course, he's making assumptions, but who in their right, unclouded, happy mind, would go to the park thirty minutes to midnight and laugh into the void.) He looked over at Yoongi and the light caught on his cheekbone, illuminating the side of his face to the point that Yoongi could tell he was young, probably younger than him; and his heart ached. Someone so young shouldn't have to lose themselves in the darkness of the night to clear their head.

"'Laughter is wine for the soul - laughter soft, or loud and deep, tinged through with seriousness - the hilarious declaration made by man that life is worth living.' " The boy said, and Yoongi was confused but touched all the same. The boys head lolled to the side and he looked at Yoongi lazily. "Seán O' Casey said that, y'know? Laughter is a reason to keep on living, and tonight I think I need all the laughter I can get. Not because I'm suicidal by any means, but you know that feeling - the feeling of losing yourself to the point where it feels as if parts of yourself are dying off? That's how I feel tonight, good sir. That - is exactly how I feel."

Yoongi didn't ask why the boy felt that way. Instead, he pulled out his phone and decided to do the only thing he'd ever been good at - talking about music. He couldn't comfort people - no, he was shit at that - but he did know music, he could do music. So Yoongi unlocked his phone and pulled up a playlist he often listened to on his late night walks, it hadn't a name but it didn't matter, he knew what it was for and that's all that mattered.

"Did you know that Beethoven suffered from depression?" Yoongi asked, unraveling his headphones. Of course, he could play the music out loud but the playlist was intimate and it called for headphones, convenience be damned. "The doctors say that he wrote depending on his mood, since he was bipolar, and that's why some of his songs involve a lot of strings – happy times – and others involve a lot of brass – the sad times."

The stranger looked at him oddly, a small grin on his face at Yoongi slipped a headphone into his ear. Yoongi decided to elaborate a little as Beethoven's fifth symphony spilled out of the headphones and into their awaiting ears. "It just goes to show that, even though things may be bad right now, you can turn it into something beautiful later."

Usually, on nights like this, when Yoongi found himself on the balcony  near midnight, coffee in hand and unnamed playlist on blast, he thought back to the night he and Jimin met. He realized now that, even in the pitch black darkness of the night, Jimin had always been trusting of him. Even when he couldn't see him, couldn't see his intentions, he had opened up and let him in and there's something about that that makes Yoongi - even six years later - warm inside.

Of course, it was nights like this in which Yoongi had too much on his mind that he found himself worrying. Worrying more than usual, mostly about things out of his control. About the fact that Jimin didn't have a job, that his mom was supplying him with everything and one day it would run out when Jimin least expected it. He worried about Jimin's age regression, about the fact that he was't just having fun. He was making up for years and years of emotional abuse from his mother, from years and years of having to grow up too fast.

It was on nights like these that Yoongi wished he would have figured it out earlier, that Jimin wouldn't have had to struggle through the rest of high school and college bottling up his emotions to the point where he had to suck on a pacifier to save him from himself. It was on nights like these that Yoongi hated himself for being so blind to the signs.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around Yoongi's waist, tight and comforting and they pulled Yoongi back into his body - he'd let his mind wander too far. He was suddenly aware of the drowning darkness and Jimin moved to the side a little, just enough that Yoongi could see the hallway light out of his peripheral vision. He always hated not being able to see things - his hand in front of his face, incoming objects, signs he shouldn't have been ignoring for so long - and Jimin sighed, deep and heavy against his shoulder.

"You know, someone told me once, that Beethoven was depressed." Jimin said, his breath hitting Yoongi in the neck. He sighed and leant back into Jimin's touch. "And, that because he was bipolar, some of his songs sounded a lot happier than other songs because of the strings and the brass used. You know what else that guy told me?" Jimin asked, turning Yoongi around to face him. His hair was a mess and his eyes puffy, and Yoongi felt bad for waking him up.

"What did he tell you?" Yoongi asked, voice hoarse from disuse and holding back self-pity tears. Jimin grabbed ahold of his face and looked at him adoringly, and Yoongi wanted to cry.

"He told me that, even though things are bad right now, that they can be turned into something beautiful later." Jimin said, his thumb on Yoongi's chin. Yoongi sniffed. He wasn't a crier. "Right now things are really bad, but it's okay, you know? Because later, we'll be okay, Yoongi. We'll make something beautiful."

Yoongi couldn't help himself, he cried.

They were going to be okay. They were going to make something beautiful. Together.

-

the end.

thanks for everything my dudes. you're all rad. see you next time.