Young Forever
->Synopsis: Yoongi after PTDLA
->Word Count: 579
->Warnings/tags: SFW, some angst, loneliness, I can't really think of any others.
It had been too long. They all felt that, they all said that. But now, as he sat in his room in the wee hours of the morning Yoongi felt it deeper in his bones. Two years had been too long without performing in front of a live audience. He’d forgotten what came after the performance.
It wasn’t until he was left alone that he remembered how loneliness felt like emptiness. It was different from when Yoongi chose to be alone, because when it’s his decision to leave others, to be isolated, not to participate, that was in his control. This though, this was being left. He had watched from back stage as people walked away from them, from him. He watched as the people that had just been cheering, screaming, and singing along with him collected their things, packed up their memories and photographs, and walked away.
The stadium still held the echo of “forever” and the promise seemed to be thrown in his face.
It had been long enough that he’d forgotten the rush of performing in front of sixty-thousand people; and that meant that it had also been long enough that he had forgotten how quickly a crowd of sixty-thousand can turn into one. Just him, alone, in his hotel room.
He’d forgotten that he would have to prepare for the fact that no matter how many hours these people waited in line, no matter how far they’d come, and how much money they’d spent, in the end it was for a finite experience.
A two and a half hour dream.
That what concerts were. If it weren’t for those droves then posting their videos, photos, and newfound friendships on various social media platforms then he would have been able to convince himself that none of it actually happened. Well, that and for the ache in his muscles.
Yoongi stared again at the keyboard in front of him. The drive to work, to create, pushing him even now. All that came across his mind though were questions of “did I do enough?” And “were they really happy?”
“Hyung?”
Yoongi turned toward the door in time to hear a timid knock once again. He looked again at the keyboard, then at the glass of whisky next to it, before getting up to open the door for his friend.
Taehyung was standing on the other side, his oversized clothes and barely blow-dried hair making him look younger than he was.
“Taehyung-ah, you’re not sleeping?” Yoongi asked.
“No, I can’t sleep. Hyung. I forgot how it feels to be alone again.” Tae’s eyes barely were able to meet his hyung’s. “We’ll get to do it again though. Right?”
Yoongi didn’t say anything, only opened the door wider so that neither of them would be alone for the time being.
The others eventually joined them, as if some sort of bat signal had been seen and they knew where to go. So they talked, they relived the memories of the night, if only to reassure themselves that it was real, that it did happen. They talked about doing it again, they were excited as they began to plan what they could do differently, better. About how to make it last longer.
And as they talked Yoongi did his best to remind himself that no one can have that forever, the screaming crowds and cheering fans. That only last as long as the concert. It doesn’t last forever. And they'd all be okay when it ends. It would just take some time.