HYYH The Notes Chronologically

Taehyung, 29 March, Year 22

The gas station worker spat on the ground when he left, and I sprawled my body on the ground again. I'd been caught spraying graffiti on the wall of the gas station, and the owner hit me while asking what I thought I was doing drawing on someone's wall. I rolled on the ground. Getting beaten was something I was used to.

I started graffiti a long time ago when I found a discarded spray can someone left behind. I think it was yellow. I sprayed it around and stared at the paint. It was a bright yellow against the grey wall. For a while, I mindlessly painted like that, and I only stopped when I ran out of paint. I threw it away and stepped back to examine my work. I felt out of breath at the sight.

I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know what the designs and colors stood for or what I'd done or why I did it. But I did it, and so I concluded that it was an expression of my feelings stained on the wall. I'd spewed my heart out, and at first, I thought the drawing was ugly. For a moment, I wanted to erase it from the wall. However, instead of erasing it I caked on other colors and other shapes and other designs. I sat against it when I was done. It didn't matter whether I liked it or not. It didn't matter whether it was beautiful or not. It was me.

I coughed when I rose to my feet. When I hunched over and spat out blood, I saw someone's hand reach down to pick up the spray can. It was Namjoon hyung. I chuckled. I thought he was some sort of ghost. He reached out his hand, and I simply looked back up at him. Hyung took my hand and helped me stand up properly. His hand was warm.