the boy with the dragon tattoo - yoonmin

chapter one

Yoongi spins around in his studio chair, hoping that perhaps dizziness would knock some sort of inspiration into his stubbornly silent head. Writers block was surely to be the death of him, it was almost like it rendered him completely useless. Or at least it felt that way. Yoongi stops spinning to stare at his desktop, watches with a frown as it tilts and warps and then eventually goes back to normal. But unfortunately, it doesn't inspire anything in him. Not even a stupid little lyric or bar or chorus or anything. Well, it was worth a try anyway.

He stands, stretches his arms above his head like a cat waking up from a long rest, and smacks his lips. Exhaustion clings to him like a wet blanket, making his eyes feel as if they have sand bags weighing them down. After a quick glance at the clock — and realising he'd been in the studio now for over seven hours, fruitlessly writing lyrics that were as quickly disposed of as they had been written, and composing beats that were deleted almost immediately after — he concludes that today had been a bust, one of many, and he'd really achieve nothing but a headache by staying any longer. Yoongi had learnt long ago that forcing himself to write music was like trying to get a snail to sprint, it was just ineffective and tiresome in all areas, and for everyone involved.

Yoongi turns towards the door but no sooner does he take a step forwards, does he quickly taking a startled step back as said door forcefully swings open and a disgruntled seokjin stands in his doorway, looking displeased as he takes in yoongis appearance in a quick up down.

"I've been sent to tell you that we're going out for dinner," seokjin announces, crossing his arms. "And you can't say no because you've been in here far too long already and I know you haven't eaten anything yet,"

"I was just about to leave anyways," yoongi answers, despite it seeming as if the other man wasn't looking for an answer, but more like he was demanding an agreement.

Then seokjin steps forward so quickly yoongi doesn't have the thought to take a step back, grasping yoongis cheeks in his palms so that they bunch up like a dumpling. "Jesus, yoongs, you're pale as a sheet of paper, try and get some sun would you?" Seokjin looks around the room. "I hate that the studios have no windows, a little bit of natural light can really go a long—"

Yoongi swats seokjins hands away with really very little strength — he's too tired to put much energy in it. "I like working in the dark."

Seokjin scowls and opens his mouth to reply but is once again cut off when two figures scramble into the room.

"Hurry up," taehyung whines, falling into Jimin who bustles in beside him. "My insides are eating themselves,"

"We're having Chinese hotpot, hyung," jimin smiles at yoongi with pearly whites. "I said we should have your favourite so you would join us—"

"He compared it to luring out a—"

"No I did not!" Jimin swats at a laughing taehyung, looking back at yoongi with quickly reddening cheeks. "I didn't! I swear!"

Yoongi groans, covering his eyes. "You're all so fucking loud, good god, I'm going to go deaf,"

There's laughter and then seokjin says something along the lines of okay time to leave, and Yoongi feels himself getting pushed and shoved out of the confines of his small studio and back into the cold hallway of the BigHit building. He doesn't resist, having people help him put in half the effort when it comes to exerting himself — even if 'exerting himself' was just merely walking — was always one of yoongis a favourite things to do. Besides, being forcefully removed from his studio was a common occurrence. Half the time it was yoongi sluggishly leaving by his own means, and the other half was this exact scenario, yoongi being bribed out like a creature from a very dark, music equipment filled den and back into society with the promise of food, a warm bed and... well, that was it really. Food and sleep, yoongis dearest companions.