bloom → yk

one → first love.

O N E  →  F I R S T   L O V E
—

yoongi had learned the definition of love when he was the ripe age of ten years old. prior to that he wasn't sure any love existed, aside from the parental adoration he wasn't quite experienced with.

however, a new type of adoration had been found in the house of an estranged aunt in Busan. there, yoongi had found love embedded in ivory keys, and worn wood; in pristine sounds and slightly creaking pedals; he'd discovered it in pieces by Chopin, Vivaldi and Schuman. yoongi had seen love in the way his deft fingers explored the keys of the piano, trailing as he created little medley's in his head.

his aunt had gifted yoongi the piano as a belated birthday present, and that's when everything took off. he would caress her keys, touch her frame and indulge in her music.

most of the time his little medleys were barely two bars long, but still yoongi recorded them on sheets of staff paper. he'd taught himself the piano by the time his twelfth birthday came around and that was the year he was finally able to play 'Clair De Lune' without looking at the sheet music.

yoongi went through most of his childhood playing the piano, even when he would, eventually, turn to rap music he never fought the way the piano called to him. it was a whisper of some sort, a sweet invitation that never failed to draw him back to where everything began; the beaten piano in his childhood home with no one to play with.

it all changed when he finished elementary. now he was the one who towered over the frame, he who looked down upon her. this was around the time he knew he wanted to do music. school was boring to him, he'd sit in class and write lyrics in his notebook instead of actual notes.

he'd mentioned it to his parents; casual, nonchalant. he thinks the conversation went exactly like this:

"you know, yoongi, your mother and i were hoping you'd pursue law, there's many schools in the country that you can apply to, even if your grades are lacking. perhaps after you get your degree you can come work with me at the firm." yoongi knew his father wasn't suggesting anything, he was stating yoongi's life, planning his son's life when it wasn't his.

it wasn't that big of a deal to yoongi, what he had said. really, it was a soft rebuttal, a small sentence of protest that rarely fell from yoongi's lips.

"that'd be lovely... if i wanted to pursue law." he'd muttered without realizing as he picked at his food. lately he hadn't been eating much and yoongi only noticed the effects after he'd taken a shower and saw the way the dips and ridges of his ribs were visible. protruding, actually.

yoongi decided he liked the way it looked, liked the way he looked. it made the bruises from his father leave quicker and the canvas of dark hues on his skin darker, prettier.

granted, yoongi still ate, but it was more chewing gum and water than actual food. yoongi had zoned out and was brought back when he saw his father's head whip up to gaze at his son, expression dark with brown eyes nearly black as he spoke in an annoyed tone.

"with your grades you think you'll be able to do anything else? the firm will be your lifesaver, it'll keep you from being homeless. what else would you rather do?" he spat, voice gradually rising as he glared at his son.

yoongi had shrugged, gaze lowered as he muttered. "d'know, music maybe? songwriter? Pianist? not interested in law, that's for sure." yoongi neglected to say that it'd been weeks since he sat down at the bench as piano would make it seem 'better' to his parents.