Autumn Leaves / Park Jimin fanfiction

61. Yoongi

1 week since Taehyung's death

I found myself walking down the streets I had become accustomed too since my disappearance. A sigh leaving my lips at the comforting familiarity of them. Bright umbrellas protect passerby's from the rain that hadn't halted for days. Happy couples linked arms and shot smiles of love and appreciation at each other. My eyes moved from person to person, people watching being one of my favourite pass times. What I saw next however, sent my heart into a frenzy. Without another thought to stop myself I grabbed hold of her arm, twisting her body to face me. She drops her umbrella with a thud, but it doesn't hit the ground as hard as my heart does when I realise I'm mistaken.

"Do I know you?" She questions, reaching to pick up her umbrella off the floor to cover her now semi-wet hair. I study her face closely; her eyes don't shine as brightly and her cheeks not as rosy. Her lips upturn at a different angle and her hair falls loosely around her face rather than framing it.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I mumble before walking off at an incredible speed out of embarrassment. "Get a fucking grip, Yoongi," I whisper shout to myself when I was sure she was out of earshot. I left her because I couldn't stand to see her any longer, so why was I hoping she'd come back into my life again. Ever since I'd turned my back on Autumn I hadn't been able to get her out of my mind. My mind wanted to forget her but my heart just didn't have the strength to do it. This was the third time I thought I'd seen her in a week, and it was the third time I'd embarrassed myself by believing she'd gone looking for me again.

She had him now. She's happy.

I shake the thoughts from my head, continuing to aimlessly walk further into the shopping streets. Large crowds form around street performers, a variety of singers, dancers and circus acts. What catches my attention though is a boy sat uncomfortably behind a small keyboard. There isn't a huge crowd around him, in fact to be more precise, no one.

I silently and slowly make my way over to him as his fingers hit the keys. I wince at the bland and unimaginative tune that comes out. His fingers stumble over each other, hitting the wrong keys in the wrong order. I could just walk away but something was stopping me. Finally it came to an end and he lifted his eyes to make eye contact with mine.

"How was it?" He asked enthusiastically seemingly unfazed by my lack of attention.

"Honestly?" I raised an eyebrow. He gave a small nod. "Dreadful," I deadpanned, shoving my hands into the long coat I wore. He seems taken aback, unable to formulate an answer.

"You think you can do better?" It was his turn to lift an eyebrow.

"No," I gave a small smirk before continuing, "I know I can." Clearly amused by my answer, he shifted off his seat and beckoned me over to sit on it. Slight panic entered my system. "I'm not going to perform," I answered, not moving from my place.

"Why? Can't live up to your words?" He tilted his head slightly to the side in a mocking stance. That was enough to start the anger blazing inside of me. I made my way over to the keyboard and sat behind it. I was a pianist by trade but it looked like the keyboard would have to do. It didn't have the same elegance and grace as the piano but nonetheless the music fills the air without effort.

My fingers dance over the keys in melodic trance as I feel myself slip away from reality. There was something about the vibrations that it created in the air that made me feel as though I was in heaven. It's as though the rhythm I'm creating is my external heartbeat, the rhythm of my soul. Perhaps that's why I had learnt to play the piano in the first place, it expressed my emotions better than any words I could muster up. Then after the crescendo was the same muffled silence that had been there at the beginning. Looking up I see what must be around a hundred people. Nerves took over my body as a tsunami of applause waved through the streets.

A smile overcomes me as there are a few cheers from the sea of faces. I take a bow like a professional, allowing my bangs to fall over my eyes. I look up and I'm met with Jungkook's auburn eyes. He wears a smile as broad as mine and a tear trickles down his cheek in proudness.

"A talent like that shouldn't go to waste," he repeats my words to me.