ultraviolet

twenty four

PURE

~

Taehyung's POV:

"JIMIN-AH, I RUINED IT with her," I sobbed, plopping myself down onto the leather couch.

"How so?" Jimin asked, rustling through the scattered music sheets on my desk. "Didn't you say she chose you over Jungkook?"

"She did," I sighed. I throw my hands onto my face. "But she said I didn't ask her to be my girlfriend, so it seems like it's fair game again."

"Why don't you just give her up then if it's causing you so much trouble?"

I let my left hand fall and dangle from the edge of the couch, the other now resting on my chest over my sunken heart. Staring up at the tufted red velvet ceiling, I run a marathon of thoughts around my mind. I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time, especially after what had happened with her, though I'm not sure if these feelings for (First Name) are quite as genuine as I'm convincing them to be. At first, I was devastated when she had moved away. It felt as if my whole world was crashing down on me. I had no other friends with the exception of Jungkook who I soon resented. However, over the past several years with her being gone, I gradually began to unconsciously push behind all those feelings for her as a result of pursuing my first love—music.

It was if I were addicted. Pressing down on a key on the piano was like a euthanizing hit of a cigar, the smoke searing my lungs with every inhale. Holding a chord was like swallowing down a long shot of vodka that burned the walls of my throat. Composing a line I've found to be well-written was like an ecstasy overdose, overwhelmingly heightening my sensations. Finally, finishing a self-composed piece was like a euphoric high, fulfilling my whole mind and body with an enhanced aesthetic appreciation of my surroundings. I was hooked, and (First Name) was just a catch I unconsciously let go of.

I allowed myself to adapt to my lone wolf status as the years flew by, learning that there was no need for me to become acquainted with anyone unnecessary. Nevertheless, I didn't expect to have to interact with a plethora of others on a day-to-day basis. Everyone was too much to handle: the athletes and jockeys were sweaty and obscene, the nerds and technology whiz kids were stuck-up and arrogant, and the art students were actually totally fine and normal to me, considering that they all were quiet and kept to themselves a majority of the time. Don't get me wrong, I had a crowd I caught a liking to—the performing arts students. Apparently, most of them already knew about me from past musical concours, and I found that I was quickly named as "the prosperous prodigy." Although I frequently kept to myself in large groups, one of the students peculiarly seemed to have latched onto me—Park Jimin.

Jimin came off as quite a cheeky boy. He'd automatically jump onto me wrap his arms around my torso whenever he saw me, and he would go beyond the limit just to steal a seat next to me during Fundamentals of Music class. He was like a leech, but to be honest, I didn't mind. To this day, I'm unsure of how he became so attached to me. Jimin never seemed to want to ask about my accomplishments as a pianist. I'd bring up one of my achievements every once in a while, but he'd just brush it off, giving no time to even acknowledge what I said. Instead, he would only fascinate himself with my skills whenever he wanted me to play a piece of his choosing for him. I willingly gave in though as a result of his never-ending pleading, and once again, I didn't mind. As long as others I don't cause trouble to others, everything would be fine.

Be that as it may, this statement deemed to be false in the coming year.

When it all finally felt sound and serene throughout the halls, a new transfer student was the talk of the whole school, and all of a sudden, she became a student of the fourth floor, the performing arts floor. Surprisingly, she didn't seem like she deserved all the hype. She was quiet and reserved, clasping her hands behind her as she introduced herself in front of all the performing arts students in the auditorium. "My name is Ahn Jieun, please take care of me," she greeted everyone. Her gentle, serene voice circle dmy ears, sending chills down my back, and for some outlandish reason, I became intrigued by her character. To be quite frank with you, she wasn't my ideal type—physically. While her hair was a shoulder length bob cut, I preferred a girl with long, flowing hair. She wore a pair of gold-rimmed circle eyeglasses, and I liked girls who didn't necessarily wear glasses. She was also quite clean-cut with her uniform, even wearing the knit sweater underneath her blazer, and I wasn't particularly fond of girls who styled themselves as such. I sigh, trying to configure why my mind was so puzzled at the fact that this girl was tugging at my heartstrings.

Shockingly, Jieun was a dancer—an amazing one too. I remember watching her through the one-way glass of her personal dance studio, dancing alone back and forth across the floor with the incandescent lights dimly lit. My mouth gaped slightly open in awe, and I truly could not pry my eyes off of her. The way her moves fluidly synchronized with the music. The way her body fit inside the outline of each note of the song. The way her form was absolutely perfect and detailed right down to the actual point decimal angles of her arms and legs when in mid air. Not a word left my mouth—not even a single syllable.

The day we met was quite cliche. After geometry class, I excruciatingly made my way up to the performing arts floor, climbing a whole two flights of stairs. Fortunately, it was lunch time and a majority of the students had deserted the hallways to fill up their stomachs. My arms were full with my textbooks, composition journals, and loose pieces of music, and at this point, you'd most likely assume that Jieun would bump into me and I'd drop all my belongings and they'd all be scattered everywhere on the floor and she would help me gather everything and we'd look into each other's eyes and fall in love. However, you'd only be half correct. Being the clumsy person that I am, my foot caught onto the ledge of the last step of the flight of stairs leading up to my desired floor. With a loud yell, I begin to plunge face first onto the floor. Landing on my stomach, I watch as most of my things flew toward the wall ahead of me due to my body accelerating forward during the fall. I groaned, hiding my face in my crossed arms as I lay there on the floor. Footsteps crescendoed from down the hallway toward my accident, and I knew I was doomed to a hell of embarrassment.

"Ah, are you okay?"

This voice—so soft and pure.

It had such a familiar ring.

I raised my head, and there she was.

AHN. JI. EUN.

~

Everyone was craving for an update, so I gave it my all and wrote this piece of crap. Haha. 😂

I hope it's okay. 😅

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Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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I love you and have an amazing day!

~ Kanzaki-chan ☆～（ゝ。∂）