—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)
—warnings/tags: angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension? lmao, slow burn, flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!
—words: 12k
—a/note: literally finding the courage to post this rn because yesterday i had an identity crisis and i wanted to delete everything!!! but i hope you like it more than me <3 feedback is very much appreciated, if you want to be on the taglist pls let me know!!
Four years ago.
In your almost twenty one years of life, you never had to spend the holidays without your eldest brother, you were never prepared for that. All the attention of your family was fixed on you now, making you feel like you were an only child for the first time. It felt weird, but nostalgic, like you were waiting for him to enter through the door at any moment. You supposed it was going to happen at some point, opening the gifts with just your mom, sitting on the front seat of the car for the first time while listening to christmas songs on the radio, only to arrive to your grandparents’ home and attempt to survive the questions of your future alone, that didn’t sound fun at all.
Simon, your eldest brother, didn’t die, by the way, he just got a girlfriend. A girlfriend? Yes, a girlfriend, that word wasn’t part of his vocabulary, or at least it wasn’t a few years ago when he left for college, but now all of a sudden he had a serious one, the kind who invited their boyfriends to spend the holidays with their families. Now Simon wore knitted sweaters, drank black coffee and listened to all the bands your uncle liked, he grew up, or something like that, but you didn’t think he grew up enough to get a girlfriend, to fall in love. Well, you hoped he was in love, you didn’t meet the girl yet but you hoped he was, at least that was what he said.
Yes, Christmas without your brother sounded a bit sad, but New Year’s eve on the other hand… didn’t sound so bad.
If your brother’s absence would’ve happened years ago, you would’ve planned this the same way as always, getting drunk with your highschool friends at the only decent party that there was in your hometown around that time, only this time he wasn’t going to be around to tell you to stop drinking or to take the joint off your mouth when you failed to hide from him to smoke weed. But this year you got sick of all that, you got sick of the same faces from highschool and all the girls who approached you just because they wanted to fuck your brother, or all the girls who fucked your brother’s best friend, maybe you got sick of the same music, the same party, the same people. This year you felt like you were seventeen again, too afraid to wish that something different could happen, maybe this time you weren’t coming home alone after watching Yoongi giving the first kiss of the year to some random girl, maybe this time your heart wasn’t going to hurt that much.
Yoongi, your brother’s best friend, was painfully always there in your life, you didn’t know how the mess that was your brother was able to have such a good friend, they knew each other even before you were born, when they were only four and met each other at basketball practice. Yoongi was always like your brother’s conscience, the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. He was sweet and kind with everybody, you wished you knew that when you were twelve so you could save yourself the eternal heartache that came along with being in love with a man who only saw you as your brother’s little sister.
Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have.
Maybe forgetting about him when he went away to college was the best thing that happened to you, you pretended he didn’t exist during the school year and made yourself believe you got over it, that your heart didn’t jump every time you called your brother and you heard his voice in the background, that you didn’t read every birthday message he sent you since you were sixteen until you memorized them, that you didn’t compare every guy to him and that you weren’t annoyed when you realized that none of them was half as intelligent as him. You were obligated to pretend you weren’t condemned to look for his face in every crowd ever since you were a teenager. All that mental effort was wasted away when you came back home for the holidays and saw him sitting on your couch again.
You repeated the cycle every year as you pretended that your heart wasn’t tired of it, like seeing him that morning in your kitchen didn’t make your heart drop like you were twelve years old again.
It began when you heard voices coming from the second floor, an outburst of laughter, your mother’s laughter, and then the laugh that echoed so many times in your dreams, were you still in a dream? You thought you might be in one when you entered the kitchen and saw the long figure of the man, the long figure of Yoongi, sitting on a stool as he peeled a tangerine and listened to your mother talk, but the minute they noticed your presence they fell silent.
Two pairs of eyes landed on your sleepy face, making you aware that you were wearing your old pajamas, the one that was pink and had a bunny pattern all over it. You locked eyes with him and it felt like it hadn't passed a day since the last time you saw him.
“What are you two gossiping about so early?” You wondered out loud, slowly approaching the aisle of the kitchen, slowly approaching Yoongi, whose hair was slightly shorter from the last time you saw him and whose cheeks were still red from the cold outside. You arrived three days ago, confidently thinking that even if your mind was a mess at least you didn't have to see your brother's best friend's face.
In your mind, you cursed your mom for always telling him that he will be forever welcomed in her house.
“Why do you care?” He spat at you, following your figure with his eyes as you sat in one of the stools beside him. “That’s between your mom and me.”
“Dude,” You said under your breath, grabbing a tangerine from the bowl of fruits in front of you “You have to get a fucking girlfriend.”
Your mother frowned, annoyed, but Yoongi is too used to you to do anything else but laugh.
“God, darling, you barely open your eyes and you’re already cursing.” She complained, shaking her head in disapproval. You shrugged, pretending to pay full attention to the tangerine in your hands.
“It’s fine, Lila. I can handle her.” He said, carefree as ever.
You scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” You played it cool, as if that didn’t make your heart just a little. “What are you doing here, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to come back for christmas?”
“Why?” He asked, “You want me gone?”
You saw a stupid smirk appear in his face, the same one you’ve seen countless times in the past. It seemed to be the only thing that could put out your cocky attitude.
“Don’t be stupid.” You managed to answer, running away from his eyes.
You heard him sigh “I finished early, I arrived last night.” He answered the question, reaching his hand under the counter to pinch your thigh, as if that could shake off your bad attitude, plot twists: it only made it worse. “That’s what I was talking about with your mom, I left Simon behind while he was still dealing with exams.”
“Such a good friend.” You joked.
“Maybe… But hey, he’s the one who ditched me for a girl after all.”
“Well, if it’s a pretty girl you can’t blame him so much.”
“If you say so…” He hissed, rolling his eyes “What about you, huh?” He changed the topic “What are you doing here two weeks early?”
“You see, this is my house.” You quickly replied, putting the first tangerine segment between your lips to avoid saying the truth. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.
Of course there was a coherent reason for why you weren’t in school right now, but since you arrived you couldn’t seem to quit the bad attitude, especially in the mornings, it was driving you crazy.
“You shouldn’t ask, dear.” Your mom intervened, turning around to wash her mug previously filled with coffee “Sensitive topic.”
Yoongi’s eyes shifted to you again, as well as his whole body, curiously raising his eyebrows.
“Sensitive topic.” You mocked your mother, annoyed that she used such words. She was quick to disappear from the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You wondered if she was already tired of hearing you whine.
“Don’t think I won’t ask you about it.” He smirked, stealing a segment of your tangerine just to annoy you.
Oh, you were sure he would want all the details.
“Whatever.” You gritted your teeth. “You only came to see Lila? I bet she would love to switch you with me.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Yoongi smugly said, ignoring the sudden annoyed look on your face, he was too used to it to be bothered by it. “But as much as I love your mom, I came to see you.”
You blinked, not sure what to say next. Now your angry expression turned into a surprised one, cursing yourself for feeling excited to hear that. You knew Yoongi finished early and was coming back home, you asked your brother about it last time he called you, you were just playing dumb when you asked, but when Simon told you he was going to be in town you didn’t expect to see him in your house the next day he arrived.
“Me?” You tried to confirm.
“Yeah, you.” He said, booping the tip of your nose “Simon told me you’ve been having trouble with your car, I thought I could help.”
You nodded, that made more sense than him just coming to see you.
“Simon is such a snitch.” You murmured.
“I can’t deny that…” He laughed, looking at you tearing apart your tangerine and putting another segment between your lips, “Do you… want me to help?”
“Maybe…” You murmured “Do I have to pay you?”
“Maybe…” Yoongi answered, imitating your tone “Or you can just tell me why you are here before the break, I don’t know.”
You squinted at him, knowing it was just a matter of time until everybody found out you dropped out of college, but there was certain relief in delivering the news to Yoongi, something inside you told you he would understand.
“Bold of you to blackmail me when I know you won’t fix my car properly.” You accused him, mentioning that time he tried to fix your brand new car when something happened to it and you had to take it to his uncle’s garage when he made it worse.
“C’mon, that was only once.”
“Let’s not make it twice, then.” You clapped your hands, getting off the stool to walk towards the stairs to your room again “Let me change first. And don’t try to seduce my mom while I’m gone, it won’t work.”
You heard his laugh from behind, and even if you thought about it, you didn’t dare to look back.
Not even five minutes later, you found yourself with him in your cold garage under the dim old light that provided you the tiny room. You supposed it was easier to open the garage door but you didn’t want your fingers to be frozen.
You sat on the old desk in the corner of your garage as you watched Yoongi open the hood of your car, trying not to stare when pulled the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.
He was wearing a beige sweater that tightened around his shoulders and his waist, Simon told you that he and Yoongi started going to gym lately and you could tell, his back was wider than you remember and you hated how different he was from the last time you saw him.
You hated to think there were people who saw him everyday and couldn’t tell the difference.
You looked at your feet hanging in the air, hearing him suck his breath just to let you know he was just about to start throwing questions at you.
“So?” He asked, persistent as always.
“So what?” You played dumb.
“So?” He emphasized, not willing to give up.
So? You didn’t know how to start. Serious talks weren’t your thing, and even if you knew that Yoongi wasn’t expecting that from you, you still felt a rush of nervousness when the absence of his voice filled the room, your cue to start talking.
“Mmm… It’s difficult to explain.” You trailed off. “I’m starting to think that I might be the black sheep of the family.”
Your words made him turn his head at you, curious to hear more.
“The black sheep?” He repeated.
“Yeah, I think so.” You confirmed, without saying anything else.
“Fine…” Yoongi scratched the back of his head, a bit confused, something that was normal when he was with you. “You’re not giving me a lot of context.”
You knew this, but making a joke was easier than telling the whole truth. You wished you could tell him jokes until he forgot what your mother told him. But no, your mother already opened her mouth and now you had to explain your life crisis to the man in front of you.
“Let’s just say.. I dropped out of the semester…” You mumbled, unsure of your own voice “but I’m thinking that it is not just the semester, maybe it’s the whole thing.”
Yoongi turned his whole body to you, paying full attention to your words “Really?” He asked, just in case you were joking, but by the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice he could tell that you weren’t playing. You just nodded “Why, though?”
“That’s something I’ve been asking myself.”
“You don’t know?” He chuckled, making you roll your eyes.
“Maybe I don’t know.” You tried to admit, but that was a lie.
“Mmm, but I think you do know, though.” He contradicted you, turning around to keep checking your car.
“Well, kind of… Do you want me to tell you half of the truth or a lie?” You offered him, leaving him without many options.
“Well, you are not very democratic, Pinky.” He scoffed, using the not-so-funny nickname he’s been calling you ever since you were kids. Only Yoongi could still be calling you like some character from an old cartoon that aired twenty years ago. “But I choose the half truth.”
“Wise decision, as always.” You commented, clicking your tongue. “The half truth is… that being a nurse is not my thing, I don’t want to be that predictable, being the bitch in highschool that ended up being a nurse. At least I want to be the bitch in high school who ended up being something else. And I was not happy at college, not even a bit. I don’t think that’s who I am”
Yoongi frowned, trying to process all the words you just vomited. If that was half the truth, what was the whole truth?
“Wait, wait. Let’s go for parts.” He stopped you. “So, now you were a bitch in high school?”
“You know I was.” You said, rolling your eyes.
Bitch was a strong word to call yourself, but to be fair you weren't being the nicest with yourself these past weeks. You stared at him, waiting for him to admit that yes, you were a bitch when you were seventeen years old, but that would be a lie. Yoongi would never have called you a bitch, you did have an attitude, you weren’t the friendliest in the mornings, you weren’t friends with everyone, you treated boys like shit, but you weren’t a bitch to him.
“Isn’t that too… harsh?” He asked softly.
“Isn’t it the truth?” You kept pushing it, but you were crazy if you think he’s going to agree with you.
Yoongi shook his head, taking a long step to break the small distance that was between the two of you so he could be in front of you. As a gentle gesture, he put his cold hands on your knees, it was not an unusual gesture, but it had been so long since you had him that close that you couldn’t help but shiver. “I know you don’t like me getting all sappy, but I hope you know that only you get to decide who you are, and if you don’t think that is a nurse, then it’s not.” He rubbed his palms on your clothed skin, searching for his last words. “But, I must say, I don’t think a bitch is who you are either.”
The cold room suddenly turned warm under his gaze, catching you with your guard down once again. You hated when he turned conversations into something like this, and worse, you hated when you bumped into the ugly reality that surrounded you when his eyes stopped looking at yours. This was not easier than last year, you wondered if it will ever be easy.
“Well, the boys in my class might disagree.” You said, looking straight into his eyes.
He laughed. “Well boys at that age are dumb.”
“Boys are always dumb.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Even me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes at you like he was a little girl.
“Especially you, I bet you don’t know what the hell are you doing right now with my car.”
Yoongi reached out to try to pinch your knees, but you escaped from his fingers. “God, you’re so mean.” He complained
“So mean?” You questioned, moving closer to him and pretending to be annoyed.
“Yeah, so mean” He repeated “But not a bitch.”
You rolled your eyes, watching him turn around again to come back to your car. You can’t help but feel disappointed when he moved away. “So… If you are not a nurse, what are you?”
You tilted your head, thinking about it. What were you? Well, in your room you were a dancer and in your dreams a mermaid, but in reality you were too embarrassed and too afraid, too insecure to admit what “you were”.
“I don’t know.” You hesitated to answer. You loved Yoongi, in more ways that you could ever allow yourself to love him, but you could not tell him all your dreams just like that.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He sang, mocking you, but from your position you could only resist pushing him into your car. “You don’t have to say it, I already know.”
You quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Do you?” A smirk appeared on your face, but he couldn’t see it, he was still working on God knows what.
“Kind of…” He laughed “I don’t know exactly, but I do know that you are too bright to just be a nurse, with all due respect to the nurses, of course.”
You stared at his back until he turned his head to find your eyes, offering you a soft smile. You mentally cursed him, if he hadn’t turned around you could blush like a teenager without care, but now your cheeks were red and your heart was jumping, the only thing you could hope for was that he couldn’t hear it from where he was standing.
“That isn’t very respectful to nurses.” You simply said, and he shook his head, laughing.
“Maybe, but I still stand by what I said.”
“Well, whatever I might be,” You started saying, trying to keep talking with all your feelings still swirling around inside your chest, “I still don’t want to disappoint any more people by making the wrong decision and coming back to live with my mom in six months.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, not because he was mocking you, but because he couldn’t believe how you couldn’t be at least a little positive, how you were only twenty one and you felt like there was no turning back.
“Who don't you want to disappoint?” He chuckled, “I really thought you didn’t care about that stuff.”
“I thought so too!” You exclaimed, just as surprised as him. “But I already disappointed my mom, Simon will be disappointed too when he finds out, I’m sure.”
“God, you’re so wrong, I don’t even know who I’m talking to right now.” He tried to joke, but the feeling of emptiness that had been living in your stomach for the past months didn’t go away just like that. “Do you really think that about your mom?”
“I don’t know!” You said, throwing your arms in the air to be just a little more dramatic that you were already being “But when I told her she made that face that she does when she’s annoyed or upset, now she wants to talk to me about the future every time we sit down to eat, she looks at me like that all the time, like she’s mad with me or something.”
For the past few days you tried to understand your mom, but you failed when you tried to understand yourself. After Simon followed Yoongi to law school, your mom expected you to do something similar, and when you decided to be a nurse she was content enough, both of her kids were off to college now, nothing could go wrong.
Your mom always bragged that she knew you like the palm of her hand, the only conclusion she could reach when you appeared at your house with the news was that you were never happy with what you had, you always had to have something else, something you couldn’t have. And even if you were about to be mature enough to admit she was right, you knew she wasn’t completely. Yes, you were a brat, but you felt in your heart this time was different.
“C’mon, Pinky. I don’t think your mom is disappointed, I’m sure she is just confused. You were two years into college, she must think this came out of nowhere, she’ll have time to understand that it didn’t.” He turned around a pointed a tool hanging on the wall, you didn’t knew the name of it, or what the fuck he was doing with your car, but you handed it to him anyway. “And, she’ll have even more time to understand that you’re not Simon and that her children are two completely different people.”
“Do you think?” You murmured.
“Yes, dummy. And you’re crazy if you think your brother would ever be disappointed in you for something like that, he is the first person that supports you no matter what, he’ll understand that dropping out of college is not the end of the world.”
You stayed in silence, not daring to say a single word after what he said. You wanted to say that you were tired of all of that, how predictable Yoongi was, how terribly annoying it was for him to always be right. How was it that he always knew what to say? Was it so hard for him to be wrong at least once so you could argue with him? So you could correct him and tell him that he was saying nonsense? Yes, it was. You just rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t watching you.
“You’re insufferable.” You said, when what you really wanted to say was just “thank you”, but he understood.
“Maybe I am.” He laughed, “But at least I’m not the one trying to find excuses to be miserable.”
You watched him put the tools aside and closed the hood of your car, but you were too focused on something else to ask if your car was okay or not. He grabbed a piece of cloth lying next to you and wiped his hands, “What about my grandma?” You wondered out loud, like he knew what to do about that as well.
“You’re seriously not thinking about your grandma right now.” He leaned over your car, with his arms crossed over his chest while shaking his head disapprovingly. If it was any other guy doing that, you would have told him to get the fuck away from your car, but Yoongi still had his sleeves rolled up, which made you think it was okay for now.
“But I am.” You answered “I can already picture her face when she finds out, I can already hear the comments of her neighbor’s daughter, how she’s on her fourth year of medicine and I’m going back to square one again or some shit like that. The worst thing is that Simon is not here, so I’ll have to endure all of that alone.”
Yoongi was run by logic most of the time, so it was hard for him to understand how fast your imagination flew, but he knew that was part of your very theatrical self. It wouldn’t hurt him to become a little more like you, maybe being a rational person made him more intelligent, but sometimes made him more of a fool.
“And since when do you care what your grandma thinks?” He laughed, “She will always have something to complain about, to impress her you would have to be born again, but this time blonde and with blue eyes. Do I need to remind you again, that woman doesn’t have a loving bone in her body?”
“God, stop.” You sighed, fully knowing he was right.
“You stop.” He laughed, “Stop trying to make everyone happy but yourself.”
“Well, maybe that’s the hardest thing to do.” You murmured.
“Getting your shit together is the hardest thing to do, but I’m sure you’ll get there.”
Believing Yoongi surely is not the hardest thing to do for you, but when it comes to believing in yourself is a whole different thing.
“Says the man who always has his shit together.” You snorted “Difficult to believe you.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, moving from your car to sit next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk “That’s not true.” He tried to deny it.
“Yeah, sure.” You bumped his shoulder “Name one time you couldn’t balance your personal life with your academic life.”
Yoongi straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending to think about it.
“Mmm… Right now?” He murmured.
“Right now?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.
“Yeah, look at me.” He pointed at himself. “I don’t think I have a personal life at this point, all I could think about was finishing early to come home to my mom so I could take care of her, and guess what?”
“What?” You asked, curiously.
“She told me she already planned a trip with my aunt for both Christmas and new years. She ditched me, and now? I’m alone, I’m starting to think my personal life was just my mom.”
You covered your mouth, not being able to hold yourself back before bursting in laughter. “She ditched you?” You laughed, but he nodded, annoyed that you’re laughing at him. “Oh my God, she got rid of you.”
“She got rid of me.” He affirmed.
“Lucky her, honestly.” You teased him “Isn’t that proof enough that you have to relax with her? You’re in college worrying about her health and she’s here organizing trips with her sister.”
Yoongi shook his head, still in denial, “Maybe, but she can’t do things like this without letting me know first.”
“Why not?” You scoffed “She’s an adult, isn’t she?”
“She’s an adult, but I’m her son.” He huffed “And that’s all I’ve ever known to do, care for her.”
“Well, you can take care of her at the same time you take care of yourself.” You reminded him “I’m sure that’s what your mom wants as well, she would be pissed to know you’re forgetting about your own life being busy worrying about her.”
Yoongi knew you were right, he knew that more than anyone but still couldn’t help but worry about his mom. She had her siblings, who always knew how to take care of her, but he always felt like it was his responsibility as her son to do it, no one could take that thought off his mind. The only reason he brought it up was because you asked, but it was not a thing he wanted to discuss right now, he could put his social life on pause if that meant his mom was going to be okay.
He turned his head at you, offering you an amused grin as he ruffled your hair with his hand, willing to change the topic. “Why are you scolding me? I’m supposed to scold you.”
You pushed his hand off you, “I don’t need you to scold me, I have enough with my mom.” You sighed “Besides, if it were a competition, I would win. At least you have a future, I’m more fucked than you.”
“No, yeah. I’m sure of that.” He teased you back “You just have to make up your mind, I know it’s a mess inside there but I believe you can do it.”
“I hope so.” You said, and this time your words are sincere. “But for now the plan is to survive the holidays, then I can get my shit together.”
Yoongi laughed, sitting next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He agreed. “And you know, about christmas…”
“What about christmas?” You asked, at the risk of looking so visibly lost in his eyes.
“I was thinking… Since I don’t have any plans for Christmas…” He hesitated to say, lengthening the syllables of his words. “I was thinking… If you want to, I can go with you in place of your brother. You know, so you won’t be alone.”
The offering took you off guard, among all the things Yoongi could tell you, (the realistic ones, not the ones that only happened in your dreams) that was the most surprising. You had spent Christmas with Yoongi in the past, but your heart jumped at the thought of him spending Christmas with you, and not with your brother. Was he serious?
“Really?” You asked, afraid that he could see the excitement in your eyes “Would you do that?”
“Of course.” He smiled, “We can talk shit about your grandma together.”
You can hardly hide the smile on your face, you have to suppress the immense urge you have to hug him. “In that case, I would love it if you come.” You dared to admit “I mean, you owe me that for fucking up my car again.” You pointed at your car, already knowing that he couldn’t fix it.
He closed his eyes shut, throwing his head back “God, I’m sorry.”
Present
You had been wishing to sleep in your childhood bedroom for the past two months. You had been wishing to lay under the baby blue covers, have your mom kiss you goodnight and sleep a nap long enough to heal your heart.
You had been feeling like you were thirteen again for the whole year, thirteen and completely clueless, thirteen and scared, running home because you just saw your brother’s best friend kissing a girl at the bus stop, hiding under the covers and trying to forget that you were thirteen and there was no way he could ever see you the same way as that girl.
The last time that you visited your mom’s house was a year ago. You texted her every week, sent her and your brother gifts and tickets so they could see you in the current play you were in, but visiting her house was harder than it looked for you. You managed to come once every few years for thanksgiving, telling your mom that you were busy and that theater life was like that, but the truth was that after so many years you still couldn’t find the courage to spend more than two days in the town you grew up in, not after everything, not after Yoongi.
After so long, you were back where you started, running home after hitting a wall. The life you built with your own hands, the life that was supposed to be your dream turned out to be a lie, the boyfriend of three years you thought you loved was now gone, and the only person who ended up breaking your heart was yourself.
When was the moment you stopped calling you brother every three days? Or when you stopped showing up at every birthday? When was the moment you got so far from the person you used to be? You weren’t thirteen anymore, you were twenty five and just now you realized that no matter how many shiny people you have around, you are still alone and far from home.
Now you were headed home, with a bag full of clothes in the trunk of your car, prepared to install yourself in your mom’s house for the rest of the winter, determined to get your shit together, just like you thought you did a few years ago. Oh, how you wished you didn’t have to do this, how you wished you weren’t a complete mess. You wished you could enter your mother’s home and ignore the fact that you didn’t remember when was the last time you told her I love you, but to be fair with yourself, you didn’t remember the last time someone told you I love you either.
Your mom knew you were coming, she was the first one who knew about your break up with Ian, your boyfriend, so she was assuming that you were sad and heart broken, and even if that was true, it wasn’t because of the break up, you were the one who left him.
You didn’t know why, but you assumed that Ian understood what your relationship was, a sad pact that benefited both of your acting careers, a good image for the media, both of the most successful young actors being allegedly in love, and for you, just an arrangement to avoid being alone. How surprised you were when he got down on one knee and proposed, with his mom’s ring on one hand and a bunch of your so-called friends hiding in the distance, preparing to celebrate when you were supposed to say ‘yes’. He had a smile on his face, convinced that wasn’t the worst idea that ever crossed his mind. You thought it was clear that you never wanted to marry him, you believed you found someone who loved you enough not to leave you alone but not enough to marry you. God, you sounded crazy, but that was what you became, a superficial celebrity whose whole life was calculated enough so people thought it was perfect.
You felt like shit when you had to say no to Ian, but you had no other option. Everything was so fake it made you want to throw up, and on top of that, he was the asshole who didn’t even bother to invite your family to, what was supposed to be, your engagement party. If you were to say yes, where was your mom to hug you? Or to tell you that you were being mental for marrying someone you didn’t love? That was the moment when you knew you were about to lose it, that’s when you knew that if you stayed there you would’ve lost your mind, and you were so close to doing it, the only thing that finally woke you up was a marriage proposal.
You turned right, immediately recognizing you were close to home. You had to start doing things right, but where do you begin?
Four years ago
When you arrived home, the realization that almost every person in your life had found someone except you hit you. It started when your best friend, Emma, finally got a girlfriend last summer, then it followed with your brother spending the holidays with his new girlfriend, and now, to your complete surprise, you had to find out that even your mother was seeing someone for the first time in years.
Yes, at first you thought it was going be to weird to see your mother leaving you every afternoon to have dinner with her new boyfriend, -whom she refused to present to you just yet-, but after the first week of cooking for yourself to sit in the kitchen island and eating while watching a random youtube video, you realized it was not weird, but it was making you feel extremely lonely. Love seemed to be everywhere around you, but not for you.
That afternoon you helped her do the groceries, but she had already warned you that, once again, you were going to have to cook for yourself since she was not going to be around tonight.
All your friends from home were still away and they weren’t coming back for another two weeks, so you were almost completely alone in your hometown. And without you wanting it, only one particular name swirled in your mind, wondering if he was as lonely as you were, which he probably was, but you didn’t want any part of it. You were still trying not to look around too much in the grocery line hoping to see a familiar face, forcing yourself not to look up when you knew you were passing his street. You promised that you weren’t going to wait to see him again, as if that way you could prove something to yourself.
You expected Yoongi to disappear only to see him again the day before Christmas, you were sure he wasn’t going to appear at your doorstep like that morning, it wasn’t going to happen, you convinced yourself of it. Because of that, on the way home when you were riding in your mom’s car as you came back from the store, you thought that maybe you were just hallucinating when you saw him waiting in your driveway.
Your mom got down from the car first, you watched her giving him a hug and then observed them talking, you were sure he was going to offer to help with the bags and you were sure your mom was going to smile and accept his help. Your mom loved Yoongi, and Yoongi loved your mom, you could see it. When Yoongi was a kid and his mother had to spend long days at the hospital your mom always opened the doors of your house so he wouldn’t be alone. Like you, Yoongi grew up without a dad, so his mom was lucky to have your mom to look out for him when she wasn’t around.
You mustered courage and got down, surrounding the car to get to the trunk where the bags were and finding him with his arms already busy.
“Hi, Pinky.” He let out and in the cold you could see his breath. His nose was red and his eyes crystallized from the weather.
You barely got to open your mouth to greet him before your mom spoke. “Yoongi was looking for you.” She told you as she headed to the porch.
“Really?” You wanted to know, just in case your mom was lying, for some reason.
“Yeah, really.” He answered, watching you grab the last two bags and closing the trunk of the car. “Do you have any plans tonight?”
Your heels suddenly dug into the ground, making you stop dead to check if you heard that right. Yoongi didn’t notice, he started to walk backwards, heading towards the door as he looked at you and invited you to follow him. You took the first step, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to react. Did you have any plans tonight? For a second your mind went blank, completely forgetting you had a date with Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen in Breaking Dawn at nine pm.
You avoid his gaze, trying to come up with an answer. “Do you have any friends?” You asked. Classic you, insulting him in case he noticed your face was two seconds away from burning red. You heard your mom grunt as she entered through the door, but Yoongi just laughed.
“Do you?” He attacked back, smirking “Going to the store with your mom on a friday night, I thought you were popular in high school.”
“I was not, you must have confused me with my brother, we have the same nose.” You scoffed, walking with him to your house “And I do have friends, they’re just not around.”
“So you don’t have plans.” Yoongi confirmed for himself, letting you enter through the door first.
“No, not really.” You admitted, leading him to the kitchen to leave the bags on the counter. “Why? Did you want to take me out?”
The question was intended to come out as a joke, but it burned on your tongue. You often tortured yourself with those kinds of comments, but his answer was worse than any kind of cruel joke you could’ve made to yourself.
“Yes.” He said, leaving his bags next to yours. “That’s what I was thinking before you made fun of me for not having friends.”
You stayed quiet, pretending to look for something in the bags, pretending you weren’t screaming in your mind. Why on earth was he here? Why was he torturing you this way? You were enough of a mess, the last thing you needed was this, bringing you more torment than you already had.
You sighed, quickly coming up with another answer “Sorry I can’t retract myself.” You said. “But what were you thinking that was so important for you to come to my house instead of texting?”
“I was afraid that if I texted you would’ve said no.” He admitted.
You arched an eyebrow “Why?” You questioned.
“Because… I saw that the theater is doing a Christmas special, and they’re showing Home Alone tonight.”
“Which theater?” You asked, but you were fully aware which one was.
“You know, the one near the park with the weird fountains.” He said, confirming what you were thinking.
You wondered what to say next. There you had Yoongi, inviting you to watch a movie with him, ‒your favorite movie to be more specific‒ but at the place you used to secretly go to theater classes when you were thirteen until you finished highschool. You knew the place had those kinds of events where they showed old movies following a theme, as Christmas approached they never failed to show Home Alone as many times as they could.
Would it be so bad for him to find out that you used to be obsessed, maybe still were, with musicals? You never told him about that, let alone about the classes, that was something you used to keep to yourself and no one else, so going out with him meant to out yourself to him. It was inevitable for people to recognize you there, you knew a lot of your friends from back then were still very attached to the place, unlike you, who decided to leave everything behind once you left for college to be someone you didn’t want to be.
“I don’t know, I allow myself to watch Home Alone only once a year.” You tried to excuse yourself.
“I know that, that’s why I came here instead of texting” He said, “But I’ve come up with a solution, I tell you this, we can go and watch Home Alone tonight, and on Christmas we watch Home Alone 2.” He offered, but you felt offended he even dared to mention Home Alone 2.
“I don’t like Home Alone 2.” You reminded him. “I think it’s un-”
“Unrealistic that they lose Kevin twice, yeah, yeah, I know!” He interrupted you, stealing the words from your mouth. “But I like Home Alone 2, I think it’s still a good Christmas movie.” You stared at him with narrowed eyes, pretending to think about it, as if your heart was strong enough to even try to say no to him, even if that meant you had to go back to the place where you used to be a completely different person from who you were in school, and most importantly, even if that meant you would have to watch Home Alone 2. It was painful to admit that you already knew your answer when you saw him in your driveway. “Don’t be boring, Pinky. I’ve already got tickets.”
Just for a moment, while the dim lights of your kitchen lighted up his eyes as they begged you to go with him, you wished you had plans that evening already. You took a second to imagine a scenario where you told him that you weren’t free that night, that someone was going to pick you up later. You tried to imagine his face when you told him that you were in fact going out on a date with some other dude and pictured him heartbroken because you rejected him. But of course that wasn’t the case, your friends from college used to joke around and say that men ran away from you and only the brave ones were capable of asking you out, there was no way you were going out with someone who knew you in high school. And even if that were true, you lived in a reality where Yoongi wouldn’t flinch if you told him you were going out with someone else, a reality where you could never reject him. There was a part of you who enjoyed the pain of coming back to him, of being around him and living with the knowledge that at some point you'll have to get over him.
“Fine.” You finally gave in “I guess I could watch Home Alone 2 on Christmas”
He smiled victoriously, raising his fists in the air like he won some trophy.
You didn’t know what was worse, whether to have him around or not see him at all, you knew that the safest option was not seeing him, but your poor heart didn’t seem to understand that it was for the best.
Present
When you parked your car, you realized you didn’t have the keys to your house anymore. You were sure they were somewhere in your apartment back in the city, but even if you had remembered to look for them, you wouldn’t have found them, you had no idea where they were. It has been a long time since you thought about putting foot in your home, your real home, not the one back in the city, with countless empty rooms you had never used. They keys to your home, where were they? You bitterly laughed as you walked towards the porch, with your bags in your hands and your heart on your sleeve, that was how disconnected to the place where you grew up in you were.
The little pumpkins your mom put on the porch reminded you that the last time you were home was also october. The play you were in last fall was just about to end and you visited home for a weekend just to ask your mom to go and see you for your final performance. You remembered how angry you felt when she told you she and Phil, her boyfriend, had already planned a trip to Scotland for that same weekend. It took you a whole year ‒or even more‒ to realize that while you were busy living your life, your family was doing the same thing, you disappeared for months and they had no other choice but to keep going without you.
You stood in front of the big wood door for a few seconds, feeling like some prodigal daughter, until you decided to finally ring the bell.
As soon as your mom opened the door and you caught the surprised look on her face, you knew you weren’t supposed to be there, at least not yet.
“Darling! What…?” She breathed out as if she had seen a ghost, but to be fair you weren't far from looking like one, you didn’t remember the last time you had a proper sleep. “What are you doing here?”
You shrugged, not knowing if she was joking “I called you on the phone last month, don’t you remember?” You asked. The surprise on your mom’s face morphed into a confusion, and for some reason it made your chest hurt a little.
“You told me you were coming Friday the 5th.” She said, but she didn’t move from the door, as if you were about to turn around, leave and come back for the date she thought you were coming.
“That’s… today.” You reminded her.
She frowned, raising her left arm to check the apple watch on her wrist, the one you gave her as a present for mother’s day a few months ago, immediately realizing that you were right. “God, where’s my mind?” She exclaimed, cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing to grab one of your bags from your hand, finally leaning back to let you in. “Sorry darling, I don’t know what I was thinking when you called me.”
“It’s okay.” You said, more to yourself than to her, closing the door behind you “These days my mind is nowhere near, either.”
“No, it’s not okay. I can’t believe it flew over my head like that.” She kept complaining, taking off your coat for you to hang it on the coat rack “Do you have any more bags?”
You nodded “In the car.”
“Okay, let’s go grab them later.” She said, turning around to head towards the kitchen with a quick pace. “Follow me darling, I’m about to finish cooking, you arrived just in time for lunch.”
Well, your mom always seemed to be in a hurry, she was like every other mom after all, but today she looked more rushed than usual, making you wonder if your arrival was that unexpected, did you suddenly ruin her Friday just by appearing at her doorstep? The answer wasn’t clear to you, when she turned around you lost the chance to say that she shouldn’t worry since you were planning to spend the whole weekend in your room.. Now you were just trying not to look disappointed when she didn’t give you a hug as she disappeared into the kitchen.
You followed her, taking off your converse and throwing them somewhere in the hall. Your mom had enough energy for you both, it was like she forgot that you had been driving all morning to get there, maybe she thought you arrived on a jet, you didn’t know. You thought your tired face was sign enough that all you needed was a hot shower and a long nap.
“What am I gonna do?” She murmured to herself, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were there earlier. “Your room isn’t ready yet!”
You scowled, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. “What do you mean my room isn’t ready?”
“We’ve been using it as a storage room lately, until Phil adjusts himself.” She told you, but you didn’t understand a word she said. Storage room? Why was your mom’s boyfriend using your bedroom as a storage room?
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
“I’m sure I told you!”
You shook your head “Tell me what?”
She tilted her head with her mouth hanging open. You visibly saw her trying to remember something, filling the room with silence. Then, it hit her, her silence suddenly broke into laughter, she realized that, whatever was she was talking about, she didn’t tell you, you just didn’t know what. “Darling, Phil moved in september, how come we didn’t talk about this?” She let out, wondering out loud. “We are still getting the hang of it, he still has a lot of boxes, we decided to put it in your room for now.” She explained, like it was nothing, but you knew it wasn’t. It took her a long time before she introduced you to Phil, she always made it clear to him that her priority was her kids, so it was a big step for her to let Phil move in.
You shook your head, immediately avoiding her gaze when you felt a sudden rush of guilt washing over your body when you tried to remember when was the last time you spoke with your mom on the phone apart from last month, when you told her you were coming today.
“Oh, mom, I had no idea.” You said as if you were apologizing, you kinda were. “I’m gonna start looking for somewhere else to crash, I still don’t know for how long I’m staying.”
She waved her hands, rushing to interrupt you “My God, sweetie, no! You know you can stay here for as long as you want, this is your house!” She said, but you struggled to believe her “But I really thought you were coming next Friday! When was your last show?”
God, the last thing you wanted to think about now was work.
“Just last week.” You replied, hoping that she wouldn't want to comment too much about it.
“How was it?” She continued to ask, going against your wishes.
Terrible, you wanted to say, you couldn’t wait to get off the stage. You did your job and you left, all your partners begged you to stay for the after party but you were exhausted, you left as soon as you could. That was supposed to be an important moment for you, the wrap up of your first main role, a clear achievement of your short career. After you did the first show of the season you went to bed wishing it could last forever, but last week you were just relieved that it finally ended.
You wouldn’t tell that to your mom, you didn’t want to worry her, so you just told her a little white lie.
“Oh, it was great.” You smiled, hoping that in that way it would be more believable. “I had a great time, but I needed to come back home for a while.”
“Well, you worked hard, now you deserve to rest” She said “And besides that… how have you been, huh?” She asked with a soft voice, making you raise your gaze to find her warm eyes and a warm smile. You failed to remember that you couldn’t lie to your mom, she always saw through you, and to be honest she would be a fool not to notice the tired look on your face. It bothered you just a bit that the main reason why she was asking about it was because of the breakup.
“Why, because of Ian?” You asked.
“No just because of him, just… how have you been about everything?”
“Well, fine, I think so.” You kept lying “Me and him… I don’t know, I don’t think I felt the same way about him anymore, I had to end it, I’m sure he deserves someone who feels the same, right?”
She hummed, not really convinced. “You deserve someone like that, too, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” You sighed “But that topic gives me headaches.”
Your mother snorted, “Well, don’t expect me to be satisfied with that answer, after you take a nap I’m gonna ask you all about that.”
“How nosy.” You chuckled. “You just want to talk shit about your ex son in law.”
“Of course, don’t act like you don’t want to do that too, I know you too well.” You rolled your eyes, but of course she was right. “Anyway, since I thought you were coming next week I planned a dinner for tonight with everyone, they’ll be so happy to see you, but you know, I understand if you want to skip it with everything that’s happening, I’m sure no one will ask about it, but still. You came here to be alone so I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed around a lot of people.”
“Ask about what? The news isn’t out yet” You asked, confused.
Your mom turned around again, looking as confused as you. “Haven’t you checked your phone today?” She asked cautiously.
“No, it died a few hours ago. I haven't had the chance to charge it in the car.” Your words made her confused expression fade into a concerned one.
“Darling, you might want to check it now.” She pointed to the charger that was connected next to the fridge. The look on her face could only mean that something wasn’t okay.
You slowly got off the stool, heading towards the other side of the room as you took your phone from your pocket to connect it to the charger. You knew it was just a matter of time until people found out that you and Ian broke up, but you thought the news would’ve be handled the same way as always, a statement from both you, the only reason why you didn’t do it yet was because you and Ian weren’t talking since the proposal happened.
When your phone finally turned on, a rush of anxiety ran down your body when a thousand notifications began to appear on the screen, including fifty missed calls from both your manager and publicist, you had a feeling that maybe the situation was worse than you thought. “What the fuck happened?” You murmured to yourself, looking at your mother in search of answers. “Did Sally call you?” You asked her, fully knowing that Sally, your manager, had strict orders not to bother anyone in your family with calls about anything related to work.
The room suddenly fell in silence, your mom hesitated to answer, you knew she didn’t want to be the one to give you bad news.
“No, but a friend of mine sent me an article.” She explained, her voice suddenly sounding small. “I didn’t read it, you know, I didn’t even open it, I don’t like gossip.”
Your mind tried to put two and two together; missed calls from your manager, an article about you, gossip, that didn’t sound fucking right.
“Fuck, I have to call her.” You gritted your teeth, wasting no time marking her number. You felt your head swirling just by imagining the sound of her voice yelling at you for not answering her calls.
Less than five seconds later, like she was waiting by the phone, she picked up. “Fucking finally.” Was the first thing you heard, “Where the fuck were you?”
The irritated tone on her voice took you by surprise, making you jump in you place “Driving, for four fucking hours.” You rushed to say “My phone was dead, what is going on?”
You heard her inhale, trying to keep her calm “Every single person in the world is trying to reach me right now except you. It’s a mess.”
“What?” You try not to yell “I just got home, I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Honey, it got leaked, has no one told you yet?”
Then, a beat of silence. The stress on her voice is enough to make you believe her, you didn’t have to think twice. Of course something like this was going to happen to you, you couldn’t run away from the city and pretend everything behind was going to stay as it was, your life from six hours ago was still there, and it was still a fucking mess.
“What part?” Was the only thing you could say. You felt yourself entering a cloud of uncertainty, your fist clenched on your lap and while you listened to her sighing, preparing you for the answer, you held your breath as if that way you could stop time.
“Everything.” She spat. “Listen, I didn’t want to freak you out with this, I tried to keep this situation on the low but it happened anyway. The story’s out, pictures are out, every fucking thing is out.”
You suddenly tense, feeling your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach
“What? What do you-?” You stuttered.
“I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about the proposal but it's the main headline, sweetie.”
Sally is not someone who’s known for sugarcoating her words, she was straightforward and didn’t mind being the person who delivers bad news, but today you could tell she was especially stressed, you were sure she was trying to handle this issue alone with you being gone for hours.
“Fuck.” You hissed “What about him, have you called his manager?”
“Of course I called his manager, but all of a sudden that prick doesn’t want to collaborate with me on this, apparently Ian doesn’t fucking care, how about that?”
“How come he doesn’t care?” You asked exasperatedly.
“That’s the idea that I got when his manager told me to manage this issue myself.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath as you took a moment to think about it. You knew Ian well enough, but you always held onto a kind version of him, the version of him who made you stay for so long, the version of him you chose to remember so your memories weren't all bad, but that version made you felt guilty for the question that was rotting on your mouth, waiting to be spat.
“Do you think it was him?” You asked her, but her bitter laugh on the other line made you realize it wasn’t a difficult question to answer.
“I mean, would that be so crazy?” She said “You and I are pretty sure who called the people to take those pictures. He's not happy, honey, to him this is just payback for what you did.”
That word echoed in your mind for longer than you would’ve wanted to, was that the way he decided to put this to an end? Payback?
Four weeks ago, you thought that was it. When you were at the backyard of the house of Ian’s grandparents and you saw him on his knees, asking you to marry him, you thought that was the moment when every bad decision you ever made caught up to you, when everything exploded in your face. Now you realized it didn’t end there, everything you’ve done still has consequences.
You closed your eyes, trying to ignore your mom’s eyes in the back of your neck. You left the room, coming back to the hall so you could be alone. You couldn’t just hang the phone and pretend none of that happened, as tempting as it sounded, you had to take care of it. “Okay, now what? Can you clean it?”
“I’ve been trying, but it can’t disappear, you know? It’s been up for a few hours.” She replied.
You nodded, as if she could see you “Okay, listen, it doesn’t matter. I can’t deal with this right now, I don’t care where it came from, I don’t care how the pictures look, what people are saying, I don’t want to know any of it. If people saw it, I don’t give a fuck, it’s me who doesn’t want to see it.” You firmly said “If the story’s out, fine, but I don’t want any major media posting the pictures, can you do that?”
You heard her humming “Mmm, are you sure you want to handle it in that way? No statement to the media? No post on instagram? Just radio silence?”
The thought of making a statement about your relationship in public made you want to throw up, “Are you kidding?” You laughed “There’s no way I’m making a statement about this if you can’t even get Ian’s manager on the phone for him to do the same. If I say anything about this and he stays quiet I’m going to look worse of a villain than I already am for rejecting him.”
“Honey, I don’t think you understand this.” She stopped you, “This isn’t just news that you broke up, this is news that he proposed to his girlfriend of three years and she said fucking no, a.k.a a scandal.”
You rolled your eyes, wanting to curse her for treating you like a five year old child. “No, hear me out, I’m not playing his game anymore.”
“You’re not the one who’s playing his game, he’s the one playing in yours.” She emphasized, “Let me be clear with this, and I’m trying to be nice even though I’ve been working all morning to get this to disappear just for you. You were the one who decided that the relationship was going to have this kind of publicity, you can’t back down now. This could harm your image, you need to make a statement whether he does the same or not.”
You stopped for a second, hating how right she was. Every bit of your relationship with Ian was out to the public, that was the whole point of it from the beginning. Your image as an actress wasn’t entirely constructed by your work, you took charge into making every piece of your private life part of it too, you sold it of your life to the public. After so many years of sharing everything with the media and fans, you knew it would be strange to stay in silence now, but in a matter of seconds the words piled up in your mind, making you see how ridiculously soulless a statement like that would look, lying about how much love and respect you held for Ian but at the end it didn’t work out, that you decided to stay as friends since you still loved each other so much, when the truth was that he was the one who leaked the pictures in the first place.
You were once again reminded to face the consequences, and that was what you were about to do.
“Sorry, Sally, but I'm not making a statement.” You let out, nervously tapping your foot against the floor “I started it, you’re right, but now I’ve decided to end this here. This is my private life we’re talking about, let me keep this thing to myself. The only thing that they need to know is that we’re no longer together, and from now on the only information they’ll get of me is about my work, are we clear?”
Your whole body shook in anticipation, expecting her to yell at you and tell you to do whatever she said, because you knew she knew better. You hoped she somehow didn’t see through your mask, you weren’t as hard as you wanted to sound, you weren’t as confident as you wanted to be. For years working with her you trusted her advice against all odds, and you knew she always meant well, she was just doing her job, but at this exact moment in your life you needed to stay silent.
She hesitated to answer, battling with herself and the love she had for you. “Look kid,” She said “I’m going to let you do what you want, but if this doesn’t end well I’m going to look for you in whatever farm you’re staying in right now and I’m going to strangle you, now are we clear?” She asked, repeating your last words.
It took you a second to understand what she just said, you felt so anxious you didn’t understand if she was giving you a green light or not. When you snapped out of it, you realized it was the closest you’ve felt to be relieved.
“We are clear.” You confirmed.
“I sure hope so.” You heard her sighing once again “I’ll make it disappear and you make sure to keep your phone close in case something happens. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“It’s fine.” She brushed it off “At least you’re not dead, I would’ve felt guilty for cursing you so much.”
“God, maybe the news of my death would make the news about the proposal disappear.” You tried to joke, fighting against the horrible feeling you still had on your stomach.
“Okay, kid. I’m hanging up before you get more morbid. Take care, okay?”
You chuckled quietly, “Thank you, Sally” You said before she hung up “Really, I appreciate it.”
The call ended, leaving your ears ringing and your heart hammering against your chest. You stayed in the hall, sitting on the first steps of the stairs and trying to make sense of what just happened.
You were aware that Ian was angry at you, you couldn’t tell if you broke his heart but you knew that you hurt his ego, and somehow that was worse. You had to admit that your ego was as big as his, so you understood he had to do the same thing to you. Sally was right, you led yourself to this, you managed the circus that was your public life and you were the one who chose him to cover up how miserable you felt. You still felt your blood boiling just by thinking how cruel it was what he did, and at the same time you couldn’t allow yourself to be angry at him because you thought you had it coming.
You thought you were so stupid for thinking that once you got here you were going to be okay, as if you could run away from yourself, as this house was a bunker, protecting you from everything you ever did. Suddenly, you felt all your emotions stacking up your throat, you felt your eyes burning before your whole face was soaked with hot tears of regret, you didn’t even remember when was the last time you cried, that’s how fucked up you were.
You covered your face, sobbing against your palms as you tried to calm yourself, remembering your mom was waiting for you in the kitchen and you had to come back to be a functioning person, but before you could, you heard her steps approaching you, gasping when she found you crying.
“Darling, what happened?” She asked, the concern in her voice made your heart hurt.
You quickly wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater as you watched her kneel beside you. “Nothing, just…” You tried to lie, but what was the use of that? She would know, and you were still going to continue carrying the pain on your chest for the rest of the day. You shook your head, feeling her thumbs wiping your tears from your face.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” She whispered, like it was a secret between the two of you. “It’s about the article, right?” You nodded.
“It’s…” You inhaled, trying to catch your breath. “It’s about more than that.”
And then, the truth. As if you were a criminal caught in the scene of the crime, you had to tell the truth.
After you spent the whole afternoon trying to explain to your mom what was going on with your life, nothing could erase the worried look on her face, looking at you like you were thirteen and you had the flu, wanting to take care of you until it went away.
You felt ashamed, but you couldn’t keep lying to her, not completely at least. You had to tell her that you were never really in love but you felt so alone back in the city, you didn’t have anyone else. Most of your friends were fake, you were tired and sometimes overworked, not even your job was making up for the miserable life you were living anymore. You knew Ian was seeing other women and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to confront him about it, terrified that he’ll leave you in your big apartment alone. Your mom listened with a frown on her face, confused, asking why you never told her, asking why you never called, and you felt so embarrassed, so guilty for disappearing for so long.
“I’m sorry” was the only thing you could say, and even though she waved it off and said that you didn’t have to apologize for anything, you knew that wasn’t real. You had a bunch of this to apologize for, you didn’t even know where to begin.
After a shower, she offered her room for you to take a nap, and as you got into her bed, she sat next to you, hugging you for the first time in months.
You breathed out against her chest, feeling like a kid again around her arms. It was like she was trying to extract the sadness out of your body, and maybe it worked for now.
“You’re still invited to join us for dinner tonight, you know?” She murmured “I know you’re sad but it’s just us, maybe it’ll cheer you up.”
You nodded, “I’ll think about it, is that okay?”
“Of course, darling.” She smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up to leave.
Before she opened the door, you stopped her.
“Wait mom, who’s coming?” You asked before she disappeared from your sight.
She turned to you again, smiling. “Your brother, of course.” She said “He’s bringing Yoongi and his mom, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”
You snapped your eyes open, but before your mom could see your reaction she disappeared through the door, leaving you alone and with your heart clenched in your fist.
Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.
Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst
A/N - Please let me know in the comments what you think of the chapters and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, the posts are not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write.
Part 1 - Prologue
Part 2 - They Meet
Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.
Word Count: 4,541
Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst
Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder
Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4bts for the late-game encouragement and edits.
Playlist: All of the poetry has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.
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Tuk tuk tuk. Tuk tuk. Tuk tuk tuk.
The rhythmic knocking draws your attention from the holo-lecture you’re watching. It’s late, it’s been dark for a while, and you can tell it’s cold out based on the fog on the window. The knocking comes again, more insistent this time, and though you can’t see what’s causing it, you just know.
You push open the window, the panes sliding into the wall silently. A blast of cold air hits you in the face. It’s not even the snowy season yet, but you can tell that it’s on the horizon because the air is dry. A head of dark hair pops up into view, and even though you knew it was coming, it still surprises you.
“Are you insane?” you scold, as though this is not a normal occurrence. “You’re going to freeze.”
“Then let me in,” he says quietly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
He smiles at you, a wide, gum-filled thing that crinkles his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh and step aside. Yoongi climbs through the window with practiced ease, and you slide the window shut behind him, cutting off the chill.
“Another assignment?” he asks pointedly, shrugging off his warm, puffy coat. He nods toward the holocron on your bed, the projected image of the lecturer paused mid-word.
You shrug and pick up the disc, turning it off before placing it on a shelf. He watches you–you can feel his eyes on you as you move things around, setting your datapad beside the holocron and straightening the stuffed loth cat that sits on the shelf, too. You can tell he has opinions, can feel his disapproval practically dripping off him. But surprisingly, he says nothing.
You’ve had this conversation before. He hates how many assignments you’re given at the academy, hates how your parents signed you up for more on top of it. You’d joked once that his frustration was solely because you couldn’t spend more time with him, and he hadn’t given you a straight answer. But you make sure to make time for him now, even if that means sneaking into each others’ houses at all hours.
“I brought hot chocolate.” Carefully, he pulls a vacuum tube out of an inner pocket of his coat. “What’s your dumb lecture about?”
“History of comms.”
“Watch it together?”
“Are you going to make fun of the lecturer the whole time again?”
He laughs, his shoulders bouncing gleefully. You roll your eyes but grab the holocron anyway. You know he’s absolutely going to make fun of the lecturer, but you don’t mind at all. His commentary actually helps you remember things.
The two of you settle onto your bed, your backs against the wall. He’s close, close enough that his body heat staves away the bit of chill creeping through the wall. He sits with you through the whole rest of the lecture. And the next one. But by the end of the second lecture, Yoongi is drooping, his snarky commentary has basically ceased.
You nudge him gently, and he jumps, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. “You should go home,” you tell him. “Your dad’s probably home by now, anyway.”
“He knows where to find me if he needs me,” Yoongi shrugs and gestures to the holocron. “One more?”
“Personnel transport one-one-five-zero-nine-four, you are clear for landing on platform five-one-six.” The flight controller sounds young, you note, leaning back in your seat and letting Tee handle the landing procedure.
“Understood,” she responds, flipping a switch on the console.
It takes only a few seconds to enter the atmosphere of Bespin. Big, billowy clouds surround you on all sides, but they don’t reduce visibility. In front of you, a speck slowly gets larger. Cloud City, the capital of Bespin, floats in a narrow strip of inhabitable atmosphere above the gas giant’s core. More importantly, though, it floats above the unmanned Tibanna gas mines, which makes Cloud City and its refineries an important intelligence foothold. The gas is crucial in the creation of starship weaponry and hyperdrive parts, and anyone with information on what the gas would be used for is a great friend to have. Luckily, Major Kim has been on the inside, working in the refineries and creating relationships.
The ship touches down on a landing pad attached to one of the lower levels of the floating metropolis. You slip out of the co-pilot’s chair and tell Tee to wait with the ship. The droid lets out an affirmative beep that sounds vaguely like a hum and continues with the post-flight procedure for the ship. The cabin is silent, and for a moment, you think Yoongi is still on the bunk. But when you step out of the cockpit, he’s standing at the small mirror hanging in the corner, picking at his hair. He’s swept it back off his forehead, a couple strands falling effortlessly over his eyebrow, and you can see the hints of close-cropped hair at his temples.
He’s filled out, even in the six years apart, and he’s no longer the skinny, lanky young adult of your memories. His cheeks are still full, but they’ve lost the dewey baby fat. You remember his mother fighting him to get haircuts until she’d finally chase him down with shears, trimming his hair until it brushed his ears, shaggy because he wouldn’t sit still, even as a teen.
He’s certainly a far cry from the boy you used to know.
He notices you almost right away–you catch his eyes flicking to your reflection briefly–but he only turns around when he’s good and ready. It only takes a second, but he finally steps away from the mirror and you step out onto the gangplank together.
You’re met at the bottom by a smartly dressed man. A name tag sparkles under his rank emblems on the left breast of his green-grey tunic; you aren’t close enough to read it. But he’s holding a datapad, and he forces you and Yoongi to halt in front of him.
“Welcome to Cloud City,” he greets. His voice is cheery, but you detect an edge to it, like he’s prepared for some sort of fight. “How can I direct you today?”
“We need to see Crim Orem.” You school your face into something soft, innocent, worried. Beside you, Yoongi steps closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “It’s urgent.”
“Name?”
“Lumiya Orem,” you lie easily, meeting the man’s eyes briefly. “Crim is my brother.”
“And him?” He nods to Yoongi.
“Sion Anren,” Yoongi answers coolly.
“That supposed to mean something to me?”
Quickly, you offer, “He’s a family friend. I’m not used to traveling so far. Sion graciously offered to come with me.”
The officer hums. “I’ll need to see your ids before I let you into the refineries.”
Your heart races as you reach into your pocket. If anything could go wrong on this mission, it’s this part right here. Unfortunately, Yoongi had, of course, been late, which meant that you hadn’t had time to get him a fake id with his alias. You weren’t without options, but you weren’t a fan of reacting in situations like this. Ideally, you would be a step ahead.
You hand the officer your id chip. The steadiness of your hand is a little surprising given how your heart rate has skyrocketed. Failure is not an option.
“Shit,” Yoongi says softly behind you. And for a moment, your stomach sinks.
This is part of the plan, you remind yourself.
Yoongi sighs. “I knew I was forgetting something.”
You watch as the officer scans your id, his expression neutral. He glances back and forth between his datapad and your face, as if verifying information. It’s a perfectly passable forgery, the tech that created it was stolen directly from the Empire. After a few moments, he nods and hands the chip back to you.
“No id for you, then?” he asks drily, turning to Yoongi.
“Must’ve forgotten it at home.” He turns to you, dark eyes meeting yours for the first time in six years. “Will you be okay? If I just wait with the ship?”
You sigh and shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I have to be.”
The officer grunts, scrubs a hand along his jaw, scratching just below his ear. You can feel his eyes on you. You lay it on thick.
“I’ll be okay,” you tell Yoongi, allowing a bit of waver to peek through your voice. “It shouldn’t take too long to find Crim, right, sir?” You turn to the officer. “I just… our mother is sick and we don’t think she’ll be around for much longer. And-”
The officer holds up his hand, tucking his datapad between his elbow and his side. “Do you swear you aren’t smuggling anyone into Cloud City?” he asks you pointedly.
“Yes?”
He nods. “Follow me to the visitor’s center.”
He begins to walk away, the soles of his shined shoes making a ‘click click click click’ against the landing pad. You and Yoongi exchange a look. His eyebrow quirks. You shrug. And then you follow the officer.
The halls are surprisingly nice, despite the fact that you’ve landed on a lower level of the city. The walls are stark white, and in some areas, the mechanics of the building come through, allowing access to various pipes and panels. They’re pretty, in a strange way, and no two sections of wall look alike. There are no windows on this level, and the only light comes from the pillar-like statues jutting into the air in the center of the hallway.
Yoongi walks beside you quietly, so close that his hand brushes yours every so often. Eventually, you feel him clasp your fingers. Your thoughts slow, your heart rate calms, your stomach flutters. But you pull away, disguising the action as you turn to follow the officer into an elevator.
Now was not the time to dwell on confusion.
The elevator dumps you out into a large, open room. It’s white, like the halls above, and there are different reliefs built into the walls that offer something interesting to look at. There are tables all around, and people–mostly human, but some alien, too–mill about. This room must be connected to their mess hall, because a good portion of them are carrying trays or individual plates around from table to table.
“Stay here,” the officer tells you sharply before he turns away, approaching another man in a similar uniform.
Standing there, beside you but in complete silence, is awkward as hell. You don’t even look at him, just stare ahead, your eyes scanning the various lifeforms milling around the room. There’s a group of humans gathered around a table off to his left, and Yoongi suspects that one of them might be Major Kim.
But then the guard that escorted you in leaves, and the other barks “Orem!” in that harsh way that men with too much power do. In a corner of the room, a head shoots up from where it was bent over looking at something. The man stands, and in a few long, purposeful strides, he’s in front of the guard.
“Crim!” You surge forward.
Yoongi watches silently, attempting to keep his expression neutral as you throw your arms around the man’s neck and pull him close. You turn your head subtly and whisper something in Major Kim’s ear. His arms wrap around you tightly.
The guy is big. Yoongi isn’t sure what he looked like before he got stationed in the gas refineries. But he’s tall–he looks as though the top of Yoongi’s head would barely be eye-level–and his arms look like tree trunks as he hugs you.
Yoongi looks away, his focus shifting back to the group of people at the table to his left. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, shoves his hands in his pockets.
“What are you doing here?” Major Kim asks, pulling away and holding you at arm’s length.
“Eomma…”
“Your mother is very sick,” Yoongi says quietly, stepping forward. Major Kim’s eyes focus on him, and suddenly, he feels very much like he’s being judged.
You nod. “I need help with the bar.” Your voice wavers, and you duck your head, and something strange jolts through Yoongi. He takes a step closer to you, and his fingers twitch. “Eomma needs someone there all the time, and I can’t do both.”
“Yeah. Yeah okay. I…” Major Kim lets out a heavy breath and squeezes your shoulders. “We’ll figure this out. Let me go talk to the overseer. Wait here.”
And like that, he’s gone. For a moment, you look conflicted, but then you reach out, take a step toward Yoongi, and then mold yourself into his side. Yoongi freezes, his brain short circuits. It takes him a second to realize that if you really were childhood friends, he’d be comforting you right now.
If you really were childhood friends. The irony is not lost on him. But even as he stiffly drapes an arm over your shoulders, something sinks inside him knowing that this is all pretend.
The door beside where the two of you are waiting hisses open. Yoongi pays it no mind–people have started to file out of the large room and some of them are leaving through the door you entered from. But when you tense and turn your face into his shoulder, he steals a glance in that direction.
An Imperial officer stands just in front of the door flanked by two troopers. One of the Cloud City officers has approached them and is talking to the Imp.
“Commodore Grafner.” Your voice is venomous in his ear. “Pretentious jackass.”
Yoongi turns his head into yours and whispers, “You know him?”
“I’ve run into him a couple times.”
“He know you?”
“Don’t think so.”
“So we just act normal and hope nothing else goes wrong?”
“Yup.”
“Perfect.”
Yoongi watches Grafner and the troopers out of the corner of his eye, observing them as they observe the mine workers. You keep your face hidden in his shoulder the whole time, and Yoongi suspects that you’re more worried than you let on that the Imperial officer knows who you are. So he keeps an eye on them, watches their body language.
The troopers are on-edge. But that’s nothing new. Troopers are always keyed up nowadays. They’re poorly trained and even more poorly chosen–children from impoverished families across the galaxy, taken from their homeworlds by a system that promises them success and schooling and purpose.
Grafner, however, is relaxed. He’s facing away from Yoongi for the moment, but he can tell that the commodore is simply observing. The Empire probably buys the gas from the refineries, Yoongi assumes. Grafner’s probably here to secure a contract.
Major Kim returns quickly. Unfortunately, so does the officer that escorted you in. You detangle yourself from Yoongi’s side immediately.
“Tig says that since I didn’t sign the updated contract, I can leave whenever,” Major Kim says.
At the same time, the officer mumbles, “Excuse me, ma’am? Your id…”
You tilt your head toward the door. Major Kim nods. Silently, you make eye contact with Yoongi. It doesn’t take much to know what you’re thinking.
Back to the ship. Now.
The three of you turn together and make your way to the door. You’re able to slip behind the troopers, the door hissing open mechanically, before the Cloud City officer speaks again.
“Madam, wait! Your id!”
“Is there a problem?” Commodore Grafner’s attention turns to you. Yoongi senses you stiffen.
“No, no problem,” the Cloud City officer says. “But your id expires tomorrow. I wanted to make sure you knew.”
“Oh.” You visibly relax. “No. I didn’t. Thank you for telling me. I’ll take care of it as soon as we’re home.”
The officer nods. “Shall I escort you back to your ship?”
“I can get us back,” Namjoon says, waving him off.
Grafner frowns, and there’s something in the way that he’s staring at you that Yoongi doesn’t like.
“I know you,” Grafner says pointedly, eyes not leaving you.
“I work in a bar,” you say simply. Your voice is steady, almost uncaring. But your hand brushes against Yoongi’s, and you grab two of his fingers. “Maybe we’ve run into each other there.”
The commodore hums. “Perhaps.”
“We should get going. Our mother is sick.” And with that, you turn and exit the room, Major Kim and Yoongi hot on your heels.
None of you say a word until you’re back at the ship.
You go straight to the cockpit and settle into the co-pilot’s seat. Major Kim follows, taking the jump seat behind your droid. Yoongi hesitates, unsure of where to go. Before landing in Cloud City, things had been tense. He feels badly for grilling you. He’d been harsh–in the moment, it felt justified–and now, he isn’t sure how to move forward.
In the cockpit, he can barely hear Major Kim say something. You laugh, deeply and loudly, and something in Yoongi breaks at knowing that he hadn’t heard you laugh in six years. He sighs and crawls into one of the bunks. He would probably just ruin things again otherwise.
Late at night, it’s almost prohibitively cold. You know it’s just because they’re performing routine maintenance on the thermal heating systems, prioritizing the living quarters and the late night work areas, but that doesn’t make it suck less. The metal of the door in front of you is freezing–you can feel it even as you quickly rap your knuckles against it.
It takes a few moments, but the door slides open. Namjoon is on the other side in a cozy woolen tunic, his hair mussed. He’s wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, and behind him, a lamp is on beside a comfortable-looking chair. So he wasn’t asleep. Good.
You reach into your jacket and pull out the bottle of red wine you have safely tucked between your arm and your body. Drinking on-base is not explicitly prohibited, but you aren’t about to test the generosity of senior leadership. You’re only a major. You’re replaceable. So smuggling the wine seems better than the alternative.
“Ah.” Namjoon ducks his head and steps aside, allowing you into his quarters.
He takes your coat and you settle onto his couch, a glass of Canto Bight Cab Sauv in each of your hands.
“I have to admit,” Namjoon says, tucking his feet under himself. “I’m curious why you’re here.”
“I can’t come see a friend who has been off-planet for a year?”
He shoots you a look, complete with raised eyebrow, and sips his wine in silence.
“I wanted to warn you before I submit my report,” you finally concede. “I plan on recommending Yoongi to your command.”
“The one who joined you on Bespin? Why not keep him?”
“You know I work better alone-”
“-I know you say that you work better alone-”
“-and anyway, I think he would probably rather stick his head out an airlock than work with me.”
Namjoon frowns and tilts his head in confusion. His hair–shorter now than it was a few hours ago–falls across his forehead. “You seemed close. I assumed you were close.”
You shrug. Suddenly, the deep red wine in your glass is much more interesting. You’d gone into this conversation knowing it was going to be difficult, that it would bring up things that you didn’t want to talk about. But fuck this sucks. This pit that’s in your stomach hurts.
“We used to be,” you admit softly. “But I… I fucked up. And I don’t think it’s something we can come back from.”
He must hear the crack in your voice, because his expression softens. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It was the first decision I’d ever made for myself.” You sigh deeply. “I realized that, up to that point, I did everything for my parents, or because it was expected of me, or for Yoongi. I put so much pressure on myself to make sure everyone was happy.”
“But you weren’t?”
“I didn’t know what I was. So I left. And in the process, I nuked the only relationship that meant anything to me.”
“You were together?”
You laugh. “No. No, I… We… We were not together.”
“But…?”
“We were not together,” you repeat. You take a sip of your wine. Things go quiet.
Finally, Namjoon nods. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“There’s something else?”
You aren’t sure how he can tell, but when you make eye contact with him, his brown eyes bore into you. Namjoon has always been good at reading people and their body language. Someday, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made general or took over for Mon Mothma.
“I’d like you to sign-off on my request to transfer.”
“Ah.”
“It’ll be easier on him if-”
“-You aren’t around?” You nod, focus falling to your wine. Unfortunately, your glass is almost empty. “And what about you?”
It’ll be easier on me to not have to see how much he hates me. But instead of saying that, you shrug.
He watches you for a moment, brown eyes studying you. You feel a little foolish, and a lot pathetic, but you resist the urge to shrink under his gaze. He’s not judging you. He’s observing. Weighing his options. Considering the future.
“Fine,” he says finally, downing the rest of his wine. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”
Lying on the roof of your building, you can hear the sounds from the factory on the other side of town. It’s quiet otherwise, the bugs and small mammals went silent hours ago. It’s late, and the academy is on a short break, so your workload is lighter. Normally, you would be watching some lecture by some scientist or engineer or other genius in their field–and you have a few you should be watching–but you gave in and decided to do nothing.
It was not hard to convince you.
Yoongi lays on the roof beside you. He’s the one that managed to get you to take a break. He’s the only one who could, but he’s also the only one that ever tries. You don’t know how to explain to him that you need to study as hard as you do, that your future success depends on it. You’ve tried before, but he always just says something like ‘You don’t need to know everything about everything to be successful.’
He sighs deeply beside you. “I cannot wait to get off this fucking planet.”
It’s not a new statement. Yoongi almost always has the same lament every time something goes wrong. It’s a shared sentiment, though, and you’ve spent far too many nights to count laying right here, staring up at the stars, dreaming of what lies on the other side of the atmosphere.
“First chance I get, I’m finding some barely habited planet and I’m making my own life there. No family, no Empire. Just me.”
It stings a little, the way he says it. But instead of commenting on it, you hum.
“It might be cool to travel,” you say, stretching your arms out above you. You watch as the stars disappear and reappear behind your hands as you wiggle your fingers. There are constellations up there, Yoongi’s brother had taught you some when you were little, but you don’t remember them. “See someplace warm for a change.”
Yoongi’s hum mirrors your own, but if he has thoughts, he doesn’t voice them. Part of you wants him to argue, to at least tell you he thought you were silly for wanting to travel. You’d never admit it to him, but sometimes, when he gets like this, you suggest the opposite, just to see if he reacts. But he doesn’t–you know he’d never put down your ideas, even if he disagreed.
Your arms fall to your sides with a thud. You feel him brush against your hand as he shifts and readjusts, and briefly, he squeezes your fingers. It’s subtle, a reassurance for something that goes unspoken.
You sit in the bed of a cargo tram, one arm resting against your bent knee. Your head rests against the metal edge of the tram’s walls. Tee tutters about around you, playing a soft tune. One of her hands rests against your forehead, her components cooling the metal just enough that it’s soothing, despite the fact that the hangar bay is naturally colder. It gives you something to focus on.
“I recommend an oxygen treatment,” the droid tells you. “My sensors are still indicating that your breathing is more shallow than normal.”
“I’ll be okay,” you say, though you aren’t sure you believe it yourself.
You feel like shit. Your heart rate is still fast, though it was much worse a few minutes ago. You’d wanted to just get on the ship and deal with whatever is wrong once you got into hyperspace, but your lungs had other ideas. Tee had forced you to sit in the tram while she monitored you and a member of the flight crew finished the preparations on the ship.
“Are you experiencing any nausea?” Tee asks, shining a light from her finger into your eyes.
It’s bright and you bat her away. “No. I’m fine. Let’s just go.”
“Go where?” A voice behind you makes you freeze before you can even get up from the tram.
Tee hums. “I’m detecting a spike in your heart rate. Is everything okay?”
“You’re leaving?” Yoongi watches as you try to get up, struggling against Tee. There’s something different about him today. He looks…. lighter, somehow. For a moment, he almost looks happy to see you. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that takes you back to the young man on Fest.
Finally, you’re able to escape from Tee enough to stand and step off the cargo tram. “I’ve been reassigned.”
“Reassigned? What-?” He pauses, and you can see the moment something clicks in his mind. “You were just going to leave?”
“Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than you intended, but quite frankly, you’re confused and you’re tired of the games. You don’t feel well. You just want to leave.
He scoffs. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please sit down,” Tee begs. A cold, metal hand lands on your shoulder.
“Leaving again without telling anyone.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“I thought you’d be overjoyed,” you spit. “You get the two things you wanted. You’re back in the field and you never have to see me again.”
“Well, good fucking riddance, then.”
“Go to hell.” You shrug out of Tee’s hold and turn your back on Yoongi.
The droid follows you up the ramp into the ship, twittering away about how you should sit and rest, but you don’t stop. You collapse into the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit, your breathing ragged, your heart beating a sharp rhythm into your chest. You can still see Yoongi through the cockpit windscreen. Gone is the lightness he had earlier. Now, he looks pissed.
Your hand trembles as you press the button to begin the flight sequence.
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hmmm the drama is drama-ing. I'm so excited to see what y'all think! as always, my ask box is open and I cannot wait to hear from you!
apologies to anyone who ever thought i was cool and reached out to me only to discover i am just a weird little hermit who can't carry on a conversation to save my life
Learn to love being out of touch. Haven't heard of the newest pop star? No problem! Ignorant of Netflix or Hulu's new hit series? Good on ya! Haven't seen a Marvel movie since Sam Raimi's Spiderman? You're doing great!
Pop culture isn't always good culture, nor is it a prerequisite to social interaction or friendship. You're not lacking for pursuing your interests.
They’re pop stars. They’re the people in the pop star form that we have in mind,
the ones we saw growing up. But they were just human beings. I know that the gazes pointed towards us aren’t all pleasant. We’re a boy band. And the things that we’ve done so far… It could be a given. We’re still very much active right now. But things like that, they totally removed that, sympathized with it, and acknowledged it. She was one of the people who did that. We were just human beings. Although our languages are different, there’s a thing called the heart.
dededos
kianamaiart
stormborns
pixelskylines
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
annaxmalina
janainaart
blakekathryn
discoholicmusic
