Piano Boy

14

• Jimin •

"It won't be awkward, will it?"

I shrug, reaching for my hat, pulling it over my blonde locks. "I'm going to respect that he doesn't want me, but it's not going to ruin our friendship."

"You say that, but - " Taehyung let's out a breath. "You okay, Jimin?"

I shrug slightly, flashing him a smile. "I will be. It's one confession, what can I do?"

"Confess again."

I laugh lightly, shaking my head. "If Yoongi didn't want someone in his life twenty-four hours ago when I confessed, it's not going to have changed since then."

"You never know." Taehyung grins at me from the sofa. "Yoongi likes you, Jimin, I know it."

"Then why would he have said no?" I counter, glancing at the mirror to straighten my scarf.

"Ask him, not me."

I grin at Taehyung, shaking my head. "Thanks for listening to me, Tae."

"I'm always here to listen when cute guys reject you."

"Ow. Too soon," I ignore the slight pang in my chest, grimacing slightly, and Taehyung makes an apologetic face.

"Sorry."

"You should be."

I close the door behind me, setting off down the street toward Blue Sky, letting out a breath visible in the air as I steel myself for tonight.

Yes, it's going to hurt, but I'm not letting myself lose Yoongi, even as a friend, unless that's what he wants.

The thought hurts. But I'll deal with as much pain as needed if I can stay with him, even if only platonically.

I push open the door to the bar, greeted by the now-familiar dimly lit tables, the slight shine of glass bottles under the lights, and Hoseok pauses where he's setting out chairs.

"Hey, Jimin," he flashes me a smile, his eyes slightly softer then normal, and I let out a breath, knowing that he's pitying me. Why did I have to confess to the one man whose best friend is dating mine?

"Hey, Hoseok!" I flash him a brighter smile than usual, making my way behind the bar, and I glance toward the small piano. He's not here yet.

I reach under the bar for a cloth, straightening up to spray the wood with polish, rubbing it in with the rag, and the bell on the door jingles as another employee walks in.

My eyes wander from the wood bar, to the slim figure walking in the door, and all my breath leaves my lungs at the simple, black, slim-cut clothing he's wearing, leather pants with a slim button down tucked into the waistband, several thin silver chains glittering around his neck, his eyes rimmed with a piercing black that makes my chest contract as his eyes meet mine, and I know how starstruck I look right now but he always manages to take my breath away.

Yoongi walks toward the piano quietly, sitting down, and I let out a shaky breath, reaching under the bar for a glass, filling it with ice to splash tequila over.

The piano starts softly in the corner, a simple melody that I find myself humming along to softly as I prepare his drink, a smile tugging at my lips because he's playing the Script, and everything must be okay between us if he's playing my favorite band.

Yoongi's fingers slow on the keys as I walk toward him hesitantly, setting the glass on a napkin atop the piano. "That song is so amazing."

Yoongi's fingers still, and it's a long moment of his dark eyes on the keys before he's nodding slightly, looking up at me, eyes skimming my face.

"I brought your drink. Tequila on the rocks." I give him a smile, and he nods slightly, taking the drink from me carefully.

"Thanks," he murmurs, and I nod.

"Any time, Yoon."

His shoulder stiffen slightly, and he lets out a breath, looking away. I stand there for another moment, watching the way he's avoiding my eyes, and the pain in my chest increases until I let out a breath, turning away, my throat tight.

"I'll see you at your break, then." My breath catches in my throat on the last word, the sinking feeling in my chest making my eyes blur slightly, and Yoongi glances up at me but I'm turning away already, walking slowly toward the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind me as I lean against the wall.

It hurts. Why does it hurt so much?

A week ago, I thought he was a nice guy. I thought he was an enigma, someone to solve, and I wanted to get him to open up, to talk to me safely.

And now I'm crying in the bathroom, over this man who has managed to wrap me completely around his finger, ply to his every whim.

We were getting close. I knew that. Then I ruined it.

Why couldn't I have just accepted friendship?

I let out a slow breath, turning to the sink, rinsing my hands to press the cool water against my cheeks, looking at myself in the mirror.

I'm okay.

This is something small, something from which I can move on, something that is only a passing moment in the blur of life.

I'll get over him.

I exhale shakily, pushing away the prickle of tears behind my eyes at the though.

It's fine. Everything's fine.

It's a few minutes before I feel safe to emerge from the restroom, my red eyes surely still slightly visible, and I can feel Yoongi's gaze on me as I make my way to the bar slowly, refusing to look toward him as I wipe down the polished oak.

I'm fine.

Yoongi doesn't take a break today.

~

Don't hate me?