Way Back Home

No More Dream

What is it the you that you've dreamed of?
Who do you see in the mirror?

Yoongi collapsed on the couch. He felt like he should cry but his eyes were dry, and they were fixed on the broken picture frame that sat on the coffee table. He'd been pacing around the apartment for days now, until the sun rose and the birds chirped outside, but still he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't figure out why Chaerin had left.

Was she depressed like him? Did she just need a break from everything? Or did she hate him? And most importantly, was she coming back?

Yoongi didn't know the answer to any of these questions. He wasn't sure he ever would. But all he knew was that he wanted Chaerin back. She was his best friend, his family, she was all he really had in this world. And she didn't even know how important she was to him, because Yoongi was too stupid and stubborn and caught up in his own darkness to tell his best friend that he loved and appreciated her presence in his life. Chaerin didn't know that her smile brightened his day, that her laugh felt like the sun breaking through the clouds, that her very existence was a gift he knew he didn't deserve, but one he clung to like a desperate child.

The thing about his depression was that no matter how low he got, he had always managed to crawl his way back up, thanks to Chaerin. But without her, Yoongi's world would descend into a permanent darkness. He didn't want that. He wanted Chaerin back. Yoongi wanted her home.

He needed to talk to his best friend, but she wasn't there, and he had to talk to someone. Before Yoongi knew it, his phone was pressed to his ear and the dial tone was ringing. His leg bounced up and down with nervousness. These calls were always the hardest for him to make.

The dial tone clicked and a light static sounded on the line.

"Hello?" A gruff, tired voice answered his call.

"Hi dad."

"Yoongi, hey. We're we supposed to talk today? Did I forget? Oh man, I'm sorry—"

"No, no dad, we weren't supposed to talk today. It just that I—I needed to talk to someone." Yoongi's face fell into his free hand and he rubbed his exhausted eyes.

"What's wrong?" The genuine concern in his dad's voice was something Yoongi missed hearing in person.

"I don't...she just...I'm..." Yoongi's voice cracked. He didn't know how to phrase the words that he didn't want to admit as his reality. So he settled for not talking about it at all.

Yoongi sighed. "Is mom there?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." There was some shuffling and barely audible words exchanged on the line before his mother's soothing voice spoke through the phone.

"Yoongi?"

"Hi mom."

"Hey, my little man," although he wasn't at all in the mood to smile, hearing the grin in his moms voice made Yoongi's own lips quirk upwards just a bit.

"Mom, I'm a grown man now," he chuckled.

"Oh hush, I don't care how old you are, you'll always be my little man."

Despite himself, Yoongi smiled. The smile and the teasing tone in his moms voice somehow made his heart lighter. He knew she was still in the hospital, but he hoped she was better. She sounded better.