The Story Sings

Authors Note:

As a first short story, I'm proud of this. No, i don't think it's as good as a short story can get because it's too short and boring. But I'm proud that I finished an idea and used a writing style that I like. I write to eventually get better, so please leave comments and feedback. thank you for reading! 

The Story  Sings

Hyuk stood before the nostalgic song that took its form as the dilapidated building.

Bighit, it read.

He steadily glazed over the broken shards of glass encrypted into the walls of the aging milestone; reaching from every corner and spreading out like roots. Certainly, it was a benchmark in his life, in their lives.

The crooked window that had been permanently damaged from the upshot of violent interactions now whistled the tune of a neglected song. So eager to be heard, so eager to no longer be encoded into silence where the story of their lives would remain outcasted. So that the glass thrown in refuge, frustration, and vexation, the punches shot through empathy, compassion, and care, and the embracive squeeze that uncovered their matching heartthrobs would no longer be seen to the world as a meaningless fight, but the beginning of a song.

How juvenile the seven of them had been all those years back when the fountain of youth had contaminated their minds with endless hope, ambition, and dreams. Each aspiring to fade away singing, dancing, laughing before a zealous audience like they had once been themselves, only to realize they had fallen into a pit of childish demise.

Every day in the last thirteen years had been filled with regret for his cowardly actions. He had been the dull-witted glue between the six paper hearts of his friends. Hyuk would tell himself over and over to focus on the twenty years of happy memories rather than the two that struck out all that was constructed below. Before abuse replaced careless butterflies, before blood drowned musical notes to a flat line, before death became the friend they didn't mind.

Hyuk hadn't noticed the presence of the boys surrounding him as he stood afloat in his thoughts.

"Wait, for real?" A voice boomed with amuse.

A young boy, styled in a vibrant, velvet tracksuit with an ocean green-blue depth and a matching string bag pointed at Hyul, a relatively older man, and teased."You aren't going to cry over this crummy building are you?" He continuously laughed. Jay had just reached the end of his teenage years and began his soon to be known as, rigorous adult life. With his sunny character and sense of responsibility, Jay couldn't help but lighten the depressing mood.

Everyone felt it, the 7 boys and Hyuk himself could easily sense the dingy auras radiating from the building and from Hyuk's spiritless corps.

Hyuk felt guilty for selfishly glooming over the building. It was the safe haven for his life's story indeed, but it was also the home for the seven boys who lived, worked, and cherished life up until this very moment. Hyuk turned his eyes to face Jay, then the rest. Their eyes filled with purified water from the fountain of youth, meaningful desires, and barely attainable goals. But most of all, the seven boys resembled his past, but with a brighter future.

An older and much taller boy gently gripped the first boy's' shoulder.

"Stop pestering him!" he scolded, "leave Hyuk in peace." The respect for his boss, manifesting through his actions. Joon was like the king season above the other three seasons: winter, autumn, and summer. Resembling the warmth and righteousness of spring, Joon was a natural, quality leader among his group. Wise beyond his years, it was Joon who established the band and convinced Hyuk, with his enlightening actions, to mentor and manage the group as if they were his own kids. If philosophy was a man, Joon could wholeheartedly skip through a meadow and accidentally become him. Hyuk used to see Joon as a self-determined individual, but after working with him and the rest of the group, he could see that Joon was just an overgrown child.

Joon gestured the other boys to follow him, away from where Hyuk was desolately pondering in his own thoughts. Hyuk watched as the boys walked farther away and began their routined buffoonery. As if they grew up on the same roads, experienced identical hardships, and were raised by similar ideologies. Hyuk watched as Joon, the eldest, happily bickered along with John, the youngest. Just watching prompted a tug in Hyuk 's stomach, and formed a thick lump in the back of his throat. It reminded him of how his friends' in the past and the boys he watched over now, seemed to forget the meaningless worries in life, the struggles they all faced individually; the secrets they unwillingly buried within. But somehow, through some coincidence, they all united by the glimmering hope music exhibited for them.

Attachments, misunderstandings, and sacrifices all took place in the talisman cowering above, and  Hyuk knew that this time he would not be turning around, neglecting his abused and grieving friends. Instead, he would be abandoning his unyielded and weak mind. Surely, he will return to the building one day to chant the beat of his friends' lonely stories in an exploding stadium with raging audiences. He knew he had to complete the mission he and his friends had set their minds to so long ago, and not back down.

Hyuk silently smiled to himself. It was meaningless to blame himself now when there was nothing left to do about his past limitations. indeed, music told stories, but so did the building. Perhaps, being drowned in the melody of passionate, rhythmic piano chords and stomped on by dancers fueled with misjudgment guiding every abstract strike, had made the building inherit the traits of a melancholy song. The past failures between his friends setting the tone, the beat, the lyrics of the song.

If Hyuk hadn't realized it earlier, he definitely realized it now.

The music was overplayed.

In fact, it had aged exponentially in the years gone by. Now, it would stand no chance of being heard by the new generation of youth who needed it the most. Simply, old-fashioned.

Peering through the sky, ready to move on, ready for the change, Hyuk picked up the bag near his feet. Gazing upon the historical touchstone for one last time.

" Hyuk ." Joon has appeared from the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry, but we should start moving now." He spoke, almost apologetically. knowing how significant moving their studio was for him.

"No worries," Hyuk reassured him.

Walking with his young pupil, Hyuklet out a sigh of relief and concern, but mostly excitement.

He was ready to rewrite his song.  

So guys, how did you think of my first short story that I actually willingly posted? Did you like the au concept where the bts music theories are connected to Band PD's past? Please give me feedback or at least comment (oh and like!) Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!