Well you did it. You made me pee my pants....jkjk I don't do that anymore I swear. I did when I was like, 5. BUT OVER 300 READS SOFJRISJSKCOD
I can't sleep. Poop. I seriously need to go back to Dr. Min to see about this. It's getting too much for me. I check my phone and see that it's around 2AM (I need to listen to their music 🎶). I slip on my old pair of sneakers and quietly make my way to the front door, trying not to disturb my roommate. I successfully leave the place without causing any trouble and I sit on the steps of the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. We live on the second floor out of four floors. I let myself go into a daydream. I feel like time is just zooming bye so quickly. It feels just like yesterday when I got on that plane that lead me to my dream. I sometimes wish I my dad approved of my dream and supported me on and came with me, but he stayed back in Gwangju as a dentist. I was so in thought, that I didn't even realize that I was being flicked in the forehead.
Why does this guy keep showing up everywhere?!
"What are you out here for, red head?" Yoongi asks, sitting next to me. He was wearing black ripped jeans and punk looking shirt along with a leather jacket. And a bandana around his head (like in Mic Drop not uhh...N.O.?). I was in my jammies :3 "Can't sleep," I mumbled, rubbing my face with my cold hand. I didn't want to tell him why. He might tell his mom or tease me or even jump me. "Hmm, I see. Wanna cig?" He offers me while getting one for himself. "No!" I yell in a hushed tone. "Those are bad for you!" "Meh. I'm gonna die anyway, so why not get it done and over with," he says leaning against the wall, now facing me with his legs spread apart in a guy like manner. I was sitting over here all prime and proper in cross cross applesauce. "Yoongi, are you-" "Suicidal? No. I don't want to die, but I'm not gonna be scared or sad or anything. I accept death, I accept the fact that I'll die, but that doesn't make me want to die," he says looking me straight in the eye. "Then why all the cigarettes?" "They're addicting as hell. What nicotine does to a person," he puffs more smoke. I finally have a good look of this man. Pale, fragile skin, covered in a few tattoos here and there. What skin isn't covered in ink, it's proudly shining in the moonlight. His deep brown eyes, filled with perseverance, courage, love, but also many struggles and heartbreak. That's what life does to a person. Gives some good but snatches it away in an instant. "How many times have you died your hair?" I ask, trying to make this situation less sad. "Weird question but okay. Um, lets see," Yoongi sighs softly and closes his eyes. "About...11 times maybe? I dunno," he shrugs. "What was your favorite color that you had?" I ask, a bite more interested in this man's hair (same Hobi same). "Black. It was easiest to take care of," Yoongi chuckles. I nod. We continues to talk throughout the night. We just talked about our lives and backstories mostly, but we also joked around. I made Yoongi smile! Barely, but I did! The sun was finally rising and wow, was it blocked by all them buildings. "Huh, I guess that's my cue to leave then," Yoongi stands up and stretches, letting out a yawn. "Here's my number if you wanna talk some more," he yawns again and throws a small price of paper at me and just starts walking down the sidewalk.
Hobi is happy.
A/N: 2018.03.23
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