Bridge To My Heart

PART 18 - A day in the life of Min Yoongi

Yoongi - Saturday

Disappointment.

Was it possible to feel disappointed with one's self?

The SAA meetings were going great, for the most part. Until the last one. Yoongi hadn't spoken much at them, just listened to those who were going through things he'd related to. But when it was finally time for him to speak up, hearing himself talk about it felt absurd.

Life was unfair.

From the moment he was born to young parents - a mistake, as his father so lovingly told him more times than he cared to remember. His poor mother had to leave college, father needed to look for the first available job as a mechanic in a workshop that was on its way to shutting its doors. As a child, he remembered having to watch them both struggle through life - married only because of him, and conceiving Hoseok through a love which grew after marriage.

Love.

It didn't exist. Loss was a more fitting word, as experience had taught him.

Yoongi groans, waving over the pretty bartendress who seemed caught up in conversation with a far better looking man. He never considered himself bad looking, but today's get-up was as tacky as he was feeling inside; torn jeans which echoed his torn heart, a stained t-shirt from the pile of laundry which should have been washed a week ago, still as creased as the wrinkles on his face. Even the soles of his sneakers were worn out to the point his soul felt the rough path he stepped on.

She hasn't seen him yet, the bartendress. She's way too occupied in laughter that made him want to puke. Why did people fall in love? Why did they laugh? Why did they feign happiness just to have their hearts ripped out and torn to shreds?

"What can I get you?"

Her voice is cold, her jolly trajectory obviously wiped off by his outer appearance. She has a pretty mouth, lips swollen from what might be a long list of comedians whose dicks she's chewed on after work. Bitch.

Not her - just the reminder of the woman she looks so much like.

His secretary.

The woman across the counter has the same unnaturally blonde hair which was beginning to fade into her natural dark colour, her lips too reminded him of Chae-young's lips which gave the best blowjobs but turned dreams into nightmares whenever she snarled and barked her fantasies of a 'forever' with him. Having ruined his marriage, she was under the impression that it was solely for her. She thought too highly of herself, and he couldn't be happier to never have to see her again.

"I want you." Yoongi murmurs, the slur of too many drinks after a spree of sobriety evident in his voice.

"You'll have to try harder, mister," she scoffs and clears the empty glasses from the table, "Whiskey?"

Yoongi grunts in response, holding out his empty glass with closed eyes.

Fuck what Dr. Gwan had to say. The sorry excuse for a doctor would be lucky if he ever saw him again! What was so wrong with seeking pleasure, fulfillment? Nothing.

Absolutely nothing wrong with finding those few minutes of release between the thighs of any stranger. Pretty enough to get his dick hard, but never pretty enough to muddle his heart.

He lied, again. Something both you and him had grown used to. Of course you believed him when he said he never loved you - you always believed his lies, this time was no different.

What would he achieve in letting you know how he really felt? He lost you - he knew this. Seokjin won. Always fucking won. And the best part of that victory? The earnest man did it with nothing but lies.