Time ➳ BTS

03 | Double-crossing

Waking up in the middle of the night, oh how wonderful.

You groaned, annoyed at the fact that you couldn't sleep peacefully through the night, and shifted in your bed under the fluffy, cream-colored blanket. The silence of the night was almost palpable, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves outside. Facing your balcony now, you looked through the glass doors at the black night sky adorned with countless beautiful stars. The sight was mesmerizing, a quiet symphony of light that seemed to dance just for you. You slowly sat up, feeling the cool night air on your skin, and draped the blanket over your shoulders to keep warm.

As you sat there, memories from your childhood flooded back. Growing up with your parents, you were never allowed to stay up late to stargaze. They were strict and practical, always emphasizing the importance of routine and discipline. You had often pleaded with them, wide-eyed and hopeful, to let you stay up just once to see the stars. But they had always refused, telling you it was a waste of time to look at the stars and dream instead of facing reality. They believed in hard work and tangible goals, not in the whimsical dreams that the night sky could inspire.

The idea of stargazing had come from your friends. You remembered their excited chatter, the way they would sit behind you in a circle during recess, sharing stories of late-night adventures under the stars. They spoke of the serene beauty of the night sky, of how countless stars would appear when the world was quiet and still. They described the feeling of being a small part of something vast and infinite, of how the stars seemed to tell stories if you looked closely enough. Their words had ignited a longing in you, a desire to experience that magic for yourself.

Yet, your parents had found the idea ridiculous. They couldn't understand why you would want to waste precious sleep time staring at distant balls of gas. "Dreams are for the day," they would say, urging you to focus on your studies and chores. "The night is for rest, not for fanciful distractions." Their practical mindset left little room for the wonder and curiosity that stargazing evoked in you.

Now, sitting in the quiet of the night, you finally had the freedom to indulge in that long-held desire. You stood up and walked to the balcony, opening the glass doors slowly to not disturb the peaceful silence. The cool breeze kissed your face as you stepped outside, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, you leaned against the railing and looked up.

The night sky was a canvas of twinkling lights, each star a tiny beacon of hope and wonder. The more you looked, the more you could see – constellations, shooting stars, and the faint glow of distant galaxies. It was as if the universe was putting on a show just for you, reminding you of the dreams you once had. The beauty of the moment was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the rigid reality your parents had always insisted on.

For the first time, you felt a deep sense of peace. The worries and stresses of daily life seemed to fade away, replaced by a profound connection to the universe. In that moment, you understood what your friends had meant. Stargazing wasn't just about looking at the stars; it was about finding a sense of wonder, of realizing that you were part of something much larger than yourself. It was about dreaming without boundaries, about letting your imagination soar.

Shifting your weight on the railing now, your eyes traveled down through Seoul, seeing that most of the people had their lights out in their apartments.

The view was breathtaking. More than the view inside your mind.

Your mind was filled with so many thoughts but you didn't have the time to organize them. Busy with work and other things, you didn't have the time to think about them. Sure, you sometimes had a chance to think even a little about them, but those thoughts would immediately fly out the window if something came up.