ALTRUISTIC | myg. [COMPLETED]

Chapter Thirty-Two

Everything looked wrong.

Everything seemed wrong.

He sat before the piano, his tears dry as he pressed his hands on the keys. He started playing an ever so familiar tune. As he did, he couldn't help but stare at the letter in front of him.

"It's for you," Minjun had said days before. "From Ayumi."

He scoffed and closed his eyes, continuing to play to get his mind off of things. As he did, he felt the bracelet on his hand move. And every little thing bothered him. He opened his eyes, and suddenly, everything sounded wrong.

Every note he played sounded wrong. Out of anger, he smashed his hands on the keys and frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair, cursing as he did so.

She got to many opportunities. And she turned all of them down to be with him.

He stood up, shoving everything on top of the piano. All his lyrics.. all his notes.. all her photos, her letter..

Everything was dark.

His thoughts.

His room.

His intentions.

He yelled out his aggravation and made his way to the drawer, feeling the urge to destroy as he pushes everything from the table and stared at his reflection.

What did he see?

He saw a broken man.

He opened the drawer, finding himself face to face with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Pursing his lips and feeling his pulse slow down, he grabs it and moves it closer to him.

'Please don't hurt yourself,'

He kept recalling the look in her eyes. And out of frustration, he threw it on the ground, not even caring anymore. His room became messy - but he didn't care. He raised his hand, seeing the bracelet around his wrist.

He felt so bitter.

So bitter, that he took it off of his wrist and threw it. And eventually, out of exhaustion and devastation, he collapsed on the ground, feeling the tears sting his eyes again.

They seemed so familiar.

He knew what they tasted now. He knew what they felt as they slid down his face. He knew what they felt when it dried up because he would never wipe them from being so.. spiteful.

He didn't reply to any messages. All he could do was go to his photos to see her. To see her smiling, to see her so.. happy.

He rested his hand on top of his forehead, closing his eyes to try and stop the tears, but all they did was flow down. He took a deep breath, turning to the side, seeing her photos, and coincidentally, the bracelet beside it.

Swallowing his pride, he slowly grabbed the letter and unfolded it.

And it reminded him of her.

It was falling in love all over again.

It feels weird writing a letter to someone you were just with...

The first time I ever saw you, it was in a music room. A beautiful music room. It was just out of pure curiosity to actually do it. If you think about it, our meeting was just a pure accident. A beautiful accident. I don't regret it. I don't regret meeting.. a beautiful person.

The sound was comforting, like a 24-colour palette. The feeling was great - our talents seemed to be meant to be.

I could never communicate well.. but we effortlessly got closer to each other so easily. I'm so thankful. For you and the others.