Brown Piano

Brown Piano Part 1

Part One:

Yoongi's Perspective:

It all started on the the day I saw you sitting alone, desperate for a friend in the instrument shop. I was with Y/N that morning, at first glance, I already knew you were going to be mine that day. I went to visit you, parting ways in the instrument shop with Y/N, me to you, and her to the opposite direction. I went to see how you looked like from close up; the beautiful color and patterns on you. Everything about you made me want you even more, the more time I stayed there with you insight made me want you more, the more songs I played on you made me want you more. Every note I played on you sounded right, peaceful, and perfect for all my plans.

After several minutes that felt like eternity, I decided to go to the owner of you to ask about your cost. "Oh. This?" he asked. I nodded impatiently for his answer, "I just got it yesterday, and it's 12,000€." When I heard this five digit number, my mind went blank, with my jaw dropping over the ground. I thought about the things we could do together, perform beautifully written songs for the public to hear, we could grow together as famous musicians. "Sure. I'll take it." I opened my mouth not knowing what I was doing. While walking to the cashier, I was thinking about the ways I would have to pay you off, as I wouldn't have much money left after my purchase.

When I have finished paying with my three credit cards, I went looking for Y/N, who was looking at some guitars, which she would occasionally pick one up, and play it to hear its tunes, and put it back to where it was. While she was looking at a white guitar, I grabbed her wrist, rushing her back to my apartment studio to tell her the big news.

Y/N's Perspective:

After being rushed back to his studio, Yoongi sat me down, and told me what he had just done, "So... When we were down at the instrument store, I saw this brown piano... And I got it." he told me slowly, letting me take in all the information that was pouring out of his mouth. "I think you'll be mad but..." he continued, "It was 12,000€." When all the information he wanted to give me, I thought about what he loves doing. "It's okay." I replied, "I'm not mad at all! As long as it's something you love, I'm totally fine with it."

Ever since we met, Yoongi has been writing, and composing his own music. Some nights, when he feels passionate and inspired to write, he would stay up until 4am. writing lyrics and composing music. "I want to become a well known musician. Taking over the world with my music, and inspire millions of people around the world" I remember him telling me one day.

Yoongi's Perspective:

When the words It's okay came flowing out of her mouth like music notes, I knew she was meant to be with me, and that you were welcome into our little music band. Since the first day that we have been together, she has had always been supportive of my dreams, and love for music.

Baaaa! The doorbell screamed the next day into the half empty apartment studio. I immediately hopped onto my feet, desperate to see you again. The night before, after my purchase, I've been thinking of all the possibilities of songs that could be made with you. When I opened the door, the delivery man was carrying a huge brown cardboard box, which of course, carried you inside. "Oh, thanks Jimin." I told Jimin, who I was great friends with since the second grade. We both loved the same thing, which was music, but he was more into the dance, and singing parts, and I'm more into the writing, composing, and rapping parts. He was accepted into a university of arts, where he studies the art of modern dance, and does deliveries when he has time to burn in his hands. He was for sure a mood maker for me, as he was always happy, spreading positivity all around him with his big, kind smile.

After we caught up with each other's lives, and his various rejections at going inside my house to drink tea and talk, he handed me the box that carried you in, ending our conversation.

Y/N's Perspective:

Baaaa! I heard the doorbell ring, shaking me awake from my afternoon nap. When I got onto my feet, to check who was at the door, Yoongi was already there, talking to his old friend Jimin, so I went back to sleep, wishing that I could still dream the same great dream that I was dreaming a few seconds ago that was interrupted by Jimin.

When I woke up to the melody of Yoongi's latest song, I knew who was here already. I immediately stood up from where I was sleeping, which oddly, it was the balcony. I didn't do this often, not the part of sleeping in the balcony, but immediately waking up, and standing onto my feet, ready to go without still feeling sleepy. This time, it was special, as I wanted to meet the new member of our so called "band". Yoongi has had told me about how beautiful our new member was, and how it would be a perfect addition to our "band". I headed towards the direction the beautiful notes were coming from, which was the main room of the apartment, the studio. When I reached the half empty room, I saw a beautiful brown piano in the middle, slightly more towards the left, next to the column that was once lonely, and Yoongi playing on its keys playing the melody. I went closer to it, feeling its wooden material clothing, and its wooden jewelry it wore its two legs.

With the melody flowing inside me for a while, I went and pick up my guitar, to play along with him, and see how everything sounded, and to enjoy its presence and welcome it to its new home.

Yoongi's Perspective:

Month after month, I became more, and more worried about how Y/N and I would pay the upcoming month's rent, as I used up almost all our savings to get you to us. Many nights, we would fall asleep with an empty stomach, which wasn't that big of a problem for me, but was for her. On some nights, when we went to sleep without food, she would fall asleep next to a puddle of her own tears of hunger. After the first time I saw her fall asleep that way, I started to give her more and more of my food, as everything happening was my fault. The part that made me mad at myself the most especially, was our sales. I believed that with your help we would get our sales higher, but I was wrong. They weren't as high as before, only a couple hundred, or sometimes even just ten albums that would be sold altogether. Many markets didn't even want our albums to be sold in their market, as no one had interest in it. "What is this?" Hope told me one of his customers asked him once.

Hope, also known as The Flower Boy of the is the neighborhood, is the owner of the local supermarket in my block, always welcoming his customers with his happiness and energetic field he has. Whenever I have a new album, I would go to him, so he could rate how good it was. Never lower than 7 out of 10. We have had known each other even before I moved here, and have been friends for many years now, meeting in a dance class, my mom forced me in, so I would do something after school except for sleeping. As I didn't like dance, he would try to make me feel happy and comfortable there, even though he wouldn't dance well like me. He usually told me how great of a dancer he has become, and how he takes dance classes in his freetime. Even though he is younger than me, I don't believe he has become a great dancer. I don't even believe he can even dance well at all these years.

As I said earlier, our album sales weren't going well, but we also weren't getting any promotions either. Not even from some toilet paper brand. In the music industry, the more promotions you get, the more people can be introduced to your music. Without any promotions, only the people that already know us knows about us, and sometimes, they just lose interest in the music.

With all of these things added all together, it made me stressed, and really worried about things. Many times I have had thought of selling you, so that Y/Ns life, and my life would go back to normal like before. Me rapping, composing, writing. Y/N with her guitar, singing. I got the idea many times, but I always erased it away with the thought of things getting better. I have had faith in you since the day we have had met in the instrument store. Just because of these little problems won't make me lose you. This idea was what kept you safe from being sold to Hope, who would sell you to some other man or woman that would leave their half eaten apples on you, and not taking care of you the way you should be, like me.

Many people in my shoes might think that borrowing some money from friends and family, and giving it back would solve the problem, but it wouldn't. If I did such a thing, it would be a sign of weakness. A sign saying that you are poor, broke, penniless. Weak. Something I will not show. Weakness. Not even a hint of weakness will be used describing me. Not even until the end of the world.