A story based on the love yourself era and theories for all the seven members
Seven love stories, will all get a happy ending or will it just be a memory of "Her"
To wash away blood is like washing away sins, but it never has it worked for me.
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I thought maybe if I drowned like Jimin I could forget what I did for her, maybe wash the mistakes and keep the memories, I kept the memories but never the mistakes.
In our youth we were like kids, never thinking of the mistakes, forgiving and forgetting.
Life is too bittersweet to love or hate.
It was because of her
I was like an angel, filled with the blood of demons, neither too good or bad.
I wanted to stay in my youth, in our youth, just so I can not worry about what I have to become so others can be happy, can't I be who I am, without needing to be someone else?
Maybe I can
Not maybe
But I can
Jimin, well he was just a lost soul, died because he couldn't take it anymore, he didn't get a chance you see. He had a mother , just never the love, but he did, everyone loved him, but that poor boy didn't know that.
I did, I loved him.
I remember the party, we all had fun, I remember we drowned Jimin as a joke, all laughing, but it wasn't the same when he did it to himself, the room was filled with angry cries, not the laughter of seven boys just living their life.
I remember the music stopping, the laughter was dead, for some reason we didn't do well, Jungkook starting a fight, Suga saying he didn't need help, I remember leaving with Namjoon, Jin standing here and there, I always wonder if he had the soul of a child, maybe he grew up.
I walked the streets of Seoul, the damp floor, the not too warm air, the sky bleeding in blue ink, like a blanket trying not to expose the moonlight, I remember spray painting the walls, Namjoon beside me, laughing as I beamed at him, it felt good to rebel, felt good to go against the laws and be a kid.
It wasn't until the sirens blasted, the red and blue bursting here and there like fireworks, didn't bring happiness but just fear.
We looked at each other and ran, ran away from responsibility, ran away from being caught, ran away from being a grown up.
But in the end, we all get caught, we lose the youth, lose the times in which we should of cherished not spend it with our heads in the books so we get a good grade, studying so we pass, studying so our parents feel happy, studying so we can become something so society accepts us, just to be judged when I am who I am.
Is it worth it?
I remember our hands being placed on our backs, as our body leaned against the car, the cool metal radiating the coldness through the thin fabric, the wind catching our hoodies and hair, the colours shadowing our faces, our smiles fading.
