The Language of the Soul

Part 3

Between their different schedules and studio times, Yoongi hasn't seen Jimin in a couple of days. He had heard the other building was open again and that he could go back to his original studio, but he always found himself drawn back to the new one. He knew he was going to have to go back eventually, these studios didn't have all the equipment he was going to need, but he just couldn't yet. Something kept pulling him back.

At the moment, he was hunched over the desk, headphones in place, trying to record the melody that had make itself at home in his mind the last couple of days. He was frustrated because it wasn't sounding right, he couldn't figure out what was missing. He had been at it all day, never leaving the little room unless it was for a restroom or coffee break. One reason he couldn't concentrate was because of his soul mate. 

Jimin had also taken up residence in his mind. He wondered what the younger boy doing. He heard the music from down the hall. He knew he was practicing, Yoongi had noticed a poster about the dance major's competition posted on the door as he came in, and had wondered if that was why Jimin was dancing so much. 

Jimin has been, in deed, practicing all day. During a short break he had taken a moment to check his messages. There weren't many, just a couple in fact. 

He listened to short one from his best friend, Tae. A reminder that he would be there at 10:30 to pick him up as well as another reminder that he was bringing his soul mate, Kookie. He wanted to introduce him to Jimin as well as an offer to go to coffee so they could get to know each other more.

A quick check of the time told him that he had about an hour before they got there, more than enough time to listen to the music his dance instructor had sent him in the second message and still have a quick shower as he mentally prepared himself to meet a new person, not something he particularly enjoyed. 

But Tae had asked him a about a week ago, and gave him time to be comfortable. And for Tae, he would do it. That didn't mean that the anxiety wasn't already tickling at the back of his mind and starting to prickle down his spine. 

He took a deep breath and opened the music file his teacher had sent. His assignment, according to the message that accompanied the file, was apparently to listen, develop the choreography, and perform his dance at the up coming competition. It was something he was confident he could handle.

As he pushed play and the music flooded the room as well as his senses, his breathing started to stutter and grow shallow. His hands started shaking and he felt them grow clammy. He looked up in time to watch his beloved imaginary friend completely fade away completely. Just as his vision went blurry from the panicked tears flooded his eyes, he watched his favorite smile fade away just as his knees finally gave out and he hit the floor hard.

The song that haunted Jimin since he was that small child in the back of his parents' car that faithful evening, seemed to be screaming at him from the phone. Demanding him to listen. Demanding to him to feel, to see, to relive the nightmare that he has tried to desperately to run from. Without his faithful friend there to catch him and chase away the monsters this time, the biggest panic attack Jimin had ever suffered crashed on him like a enormous wave, successfully dragging him down and stealing his breath away. 

Meanwhile, Yoongi was in the middle of trying to finish the lyrics that had been haunting him all week. Hounding him until he could write them down and give them life. Just as he just turn the page of his well loved notebook, a bubble of panic started raising in his chest. He started absent mindedly rubbing at it to relieve some of the pressure as he tried to finish the verse. 

He was just laying down his pen to look over what he had written, when he realized the panic wasn't his own, it was coming from his soul mate, down the hall. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he was slammed with a suffocating wave of panic, laced with terror and pain. Had he not still been in his chair, he was certain he would be on the floor.