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“See you in the morning, my wonderful Yoongi.” His mother kissed his forehead with love. “I hope you had a great birthday.”
“I did, Mom, thank you so much,” he whispered back. The two smiled at each other.
Once Yoongi’s mother exited the room and closed the door shut, Yoongi got up from his bed quietly. He suspected that his parents knew about this tradition of his, but it was something he liked to do. Every birthday, Yoongi would get up from his bed to look out his window and wish on a star for something to change before his next birthday. Whether it was to get a girlfriend, change his hair, or to get better grades, it always differed. They would always somehow come true. Maybe it was because Yoongi did it as tradition, or looked to find the closest constellation.
Yoongi grabbed his desk chair and pulled it close to the window. He opened the window to reveal the temperate March air. It made him smile. He looked up out at the moon, which spilled into his young eyes. Yoongi would remember that day for the rest of his life.
Yoongi wasn’t religious. His parents weren’t, so they didn’t bother pushing it onto him. They had asked him before if he believed in anything, but he just shrugged and said he believed in music. Yoongi noticed how his two parents looked at each other with a knowing smile, but never figuring out what that realization was.
But there was something special about clapping his hands together in a prayer position and closing his eyes. Yoongi did exactly that, and thoughts clouded his mind. What could he wish for?
Yoongi had thought about it over the last year: what he could wish for. Since he was turning 10 years old this year, that made him an adult. At least in his eyes it did. His parents begged to differ, since Yoongi still ran off for hours to play with his friends without telling them. That was something adults did, he’d told them. They didn’t seem to understand his logic.
Pulling out a list from his backpack, Yoongi decided on something. “Hello Birthday Fairy,” that's what he called the thing that granted his birthday wishes. “This year may be a stretch. But since I’m an adult now, I’ve got to start thinking about my future now. I don’t know about college, but I know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a rapper. And all the coolest rappers live in America. Mostly Los Angeles. In 15 years, I want to be a successful rapper in Los Angeles. I want to have thousands of fans.
“I want to do something that makes me happy. Writing poems makes me happy! But Dad says you can’t make any money for writing poems, so I asked him about writing songs. He seemed pretty cool with that, so doing that would make me happy. It would be really amazing if that happened, Birthday Fairy.” Yoongi quietly kissed the tip of his hands and scurried back into bed.
That night he slept with peaceful, happy dreams in his mind.
-10 years later-
Yoongi looked to his side. A boy he didn’t know. Passed out and naked. Great. The ideal night for his birthday. He quickly cursed Hoseok and Namjoon for taking him out drinking. Yoongi still felt his head pounding, but it didn’t bother him all that much.
Yoongi got out of his bed to retrieve some underwear. He put on a pair of boxers (not fully knowing if they were his or not) and a sweatshirt, not caring if he woke the person or not.
Yoongi checked the time on his phone. 11:38 pm. He was surprised he made it back to his apartment before midnight. Usually he was back around 3:00 am. The boy next to him probably wasn’t any fun then, if he was passed out by that time. But it was Yoongi’s birthday, and he had planned to be in his apartment before the clock struck midnight. Yoongi might’ve always felt a bit like Cinderella, but he definitely didn’t tell anyone that.
Like every March 9th night, he pulled up one of his living room chairs up to his window by the door. He clasped his hands together and said something he’d thought about throughout the year. “Birthday Fairy, if you’re even a fairy or a god or whatever, I’ve turned 25 tonight, and all I wish for through the next year is a little bit more cash flow. I’m on the edge of being kicked out for not turning in the rent on time the past 3 months. Just a few more songs to sell, or a few more concerts will do.”
Yoongi opened his eyes and untangled his hands. He quickly got a bottled water out of his kitchen and took a swig. No way he could sleep for the rest of the night, he decided. Yoongi sat on his couch and pulled up his laptop. He scrolled on Twitter for a while, keeping up with all his favorite artists, before falling asleep on the couch.
* * * * * * * *
The next morning Yoongi wake up with a jolt. His phone was going off with an alarm that read: “ rehearsal in 3 hours. get tf up. ” When had he started getting up 8 am? And what was his rehearsal for? Yoongi had no recollection of any rehearsals he had to attend. And when had he changed his phone case? It had always been that one picture of Kendrick Lamar that he took himself when he held a concert in Korea.
And what happened to the couch he fell asleep on? Now he was on perfect, silky sheets he could never afford. Had he left his apartment in a drunken haze and broken into some rich person’s house? But he remembered falling fast asleep on his couch.
The someone was knocking on his (no, not his) door. “Yoongi, Yoongi!” They called out to him. How had they known he was in there? Was he in trouble?
The person broke into the room and rolled their eyes. It was Hoseok. How had Hoseok found him? “C’mon, Yoongi, I know you had an alarm on. Now get dressed, we’re going to breakfast,” Hoseok said, absolutely exhausted. But, Yoongi wondered, why was he speaking English? Yoongi was somewhat okay at understanding and speaking the language, but he didn’t know why Hoseok was speaking in such tongues all of the sudden.
The younger went over to the drapes to reveal the morning sun. Yoongi winced at the sight and looked another direction. “What are you talking about, Hoseok?” Yoongi said, with his thick Korean words.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok sighed. “You gotta stop talking in Korean. I know it’s hard for you to transition into English as you’ve repeated during your debut, but it’ll help to always talk in English.”
What the fuck was Hoseok on about?
“What the fuck is happening,” Yoongi said one of the only proper statements he knows in English.
“You might still be drunk from last night, but get showered in the next 10 minutes.” Yoongi realized Hoseok had never been this harsh with him before.
Before Yoongi could say a word to him, Hoseok was out the door. Yoongi figured he could decipher what rehearsal he would have to go and why Hoseok was acting like his boss with Twitter, a platform he often used to connect with his favorite artists and friends.
He opened his phone and tapped on the blue app. Instantly he was brought to a timeline with political matters and promotions, and Yoongi also noticed that everything was English. He knew he couldn’t understand it all, but somehow he found himself realizing he could? Like it just ran through his brain easily? Interesting .
His profile was sure as hell different. Yoongi had about a million followers than he had the night before. His biography read something along the lines of “Rapper based in L.A” which confused him because, last night, he was in Seoul and was an amateur underground rapper with about 14,000 followers.
Yoongi went to put his phone back on the charger and close it, to just think for a bit. But that’s when a green envelope caught his eye. It was small, couldn’t hold more than three pieces of folded paper. But it had his name on it. In both Hangul and English.
He opened the letter hesitantly:
“I want to be a rapper. And all the coolest rappers live in America. Mostly Los Angeles. In 15 years, I want to be a successful rapper in Los Angeles. I want to have thousands of fans.”
Those are words you said to me, Min Yoongi, exactly 15 years ago. When you were 10 years old you wished that on the Birthday Fairy. Well here the Birthday Fairy is, granting your wish.
The date is March 10th. You’re in Los Angeles, California, America. You’re a rapper with an EP starting your debut that came out about a few days ago. You’re having a promotional concert later today, and then a meet-n-greet.
Don’t worry about knowing the songs. Listen to the tracks on your phone while you’re getting ready for today and try to remember every line. It won’t be hard, trust me.
My only rule is to not fuck up everything this universe’s you has made for himself.
The way to get back will, most likely, not be easy. You need to find something. Something in this world that you haven't realized you needed in your own world. Once you find that thing, I’ll meet you and send you back.
Take care, and soon I will come to collect you to take you back to your world!
-The Birthday Fairy
This left Yoongi confused. He remembers wishing this, but how would it have been granted? There’s no possible way. There shouldn't be a way.
But apparently there is. Because according to this letter from the supposed Birthday Fairy, he's in LA as a rapper. How convenient.
Yoongi got up and into the shower. He noticed took out his phone and played the tracks on his supposed ‘EP’. He’d have to look up what an EP was anyway.
He stepped into the shower, which started the first song. It was one he recognized, Agust D Intro. He was always a fan of that one.
Then it played into Agust D. A work of his he deemed as one of his favorites. He also noticed that most of the words were in English. It was different from recording in Korea, because most words were in Korean. But now, there's only a couple words in Korean.
Yoongi figured that he’d probably have to rap in English for the concert, so deciphering what he said would probably make it easier. He knew the Korean lyrics, and the English ones were probably just translated easier.
When he stepped out of the shower, Give It To Me was ending. Yoongi turned the music a bit louder and got dressed.
Later, when he stumbled downstairs into ‘his’ kitchen for breakfast, Yoongi noticed that Hoseok had already got breakfast.
“I ordered in,” he said, taking a bite out of a strip of bacon.
“Thanks,” Yoongi replied. English rolled off his tongue much easier now for some reason. His accent went away a little, but it was still distinguishable that he wasn't from America. He figured that if it's crazy enough he could be in another world, it could be crazy enough that he could speak and understand English a lot better, “so tell me more about this concert tonight.” Yoongi realized he needed an excuse. “Still hungover.”
Hoseok sighed and rolled his eyes. “Basically this is your first concert of this ‘EP’ and you’re to rap almost every song from it. With a few exceptions,” he explained. “After the concert, there will be a meet-n-greet with a few fans that won a radio contest. Easy enough.”
Easy. Right.
Yoongi flew through the concert rehearsal with much struggle. He relied on Hoseok to tell him what to do next and where to be. It eventually came natural to him, about three-quarters through the rehearsal.
In South Korea, he knew that idol groups usually got extensive makeup done complete with full foundation and eyeshadow. In America, Yoongi noticed, that there’s only one makeup artist just to cover up some flaws with some concealer. It was nice to know that they were given the choice in America.
Before the concert started, Yoongi was greeted by a few people he did not recognize. Apparently they had helped him with his mini album. Although Yoongi didn’t know exactly who they were, he was most likely eternally grateful to them.
Yoongi couldn’t say that the concert didn’t go on without a hitch. Of course it did. Yoongi learned after that it was impossible that a concert was flawless. He fudged a few lines in which he left up to the background vocals, went to the wrong part of the stage in which left the lights to miss the mark, and was very awkward during the talking parts of the concert.
Yoongi, honestly, could’ve be fucked with those mistakes however. He felt like he was on Cloud Nine. In his element. Nothing could rip him down from where he was.
Except when Hoseok busted into his room and broke his flow. “Remember about the two fans that won the radio contest will be coming here soon,” Hoseok said while slipping into his room.
Yoongi grunted in agreement and hastily grabbed a bag of whatever chips the venue offered. A couple minutes rolled by and a boy entered Yoongi’s dressing room standing next to Hoseok. He put away his phone and stood up. “Hi, I’m Agust D, nice to meet you,” he introduced in English. Yoongi noticed the boy was a lot taller than him, and that he was Korean.
“Hi! I’m Taehyung Kim, I’m here with my friend Jimin Park who’s in the bathroom right now but he’s a lot bigger fan of yours. I mean - don’t get me wrong, I love your music. He just knows a shit more about you than I do,” the boy, Taehyung, explained.
Yoongi chuckled. Hoseok stepped in, “I’ll go get him. Yoongi, offer Taehyung something to eat.”
Yoongi did as he was told while Hoseok was retrieving the other boy. Taehyung took a pack of Skittles. “So, you’re Korean?” Yoongi asked. “You and your friend both have Korean names.”
“Yeah, I was born and raised here. Jimin was born and lived in Busan until he was 5 years old. We both speak it pretty well, but he has a bigger advantage on me,” Taehyung answered. “Actually how we won this contest was because we both said we liked how a Korean artist that rapped in both English and Korean could make it this far in America.”
“That’s actually really cool,” Yoongi breathed.
“Yoongi?” Hoseok poked his head through the door, and the younger looked to the side. “You can go in now.” He left, and another boy stepped in. Yoongi guessed it was the “Jimin” boy.
“H-Hi, Agust D, I’m Jimin. Nice to meet you,” Jimin said. Yoongi saw he looked very nervous. He was perspiring and looked a bit flushed.
“Jimin! I was just telling Agust D how we won the contest,” Taehyung called.
“Please, just call me Yoongi,” he spoke. “Hi, Jimin, I’m glad you enjoy my music.”
Jimin reached into a small backpack he had and brought out an album cover that had “Agust D” written on it. Yoongi, in all his 15 hours mentally in California, never saw his own album cover. “Would you sign this, please, Yoongi?” Jimin looked at Yoongi as he stepped a little closer.
Jimin was quite good looking, Yoongi noticed.
“Of course,” Yoongi said just as he realized he has never signed his autograph before. The only signatures he’s produced were on his bills and those were ugly and illegible. Yoongi decided, for his first autograph, he was going to make it better than ever. The A was larger than the rest of the letters and everything else was smushed together. It looked like a real celebrity signature. Yoongi decided that he would also write a small note. Once he finished, he handed the album back to Jimin.
Jimin took a look at it and exclaimed, “in Hangul too, how cool! Thanks, Yoongi. It really means a lot.” Yoongi smiled at Jimin.
“No problem, kid.” Yoongi offered the snack selection to Jimin where he refused because of a diet he was on.
“I’m a dancer and I need to be in shape always,” he explained. That’s why his thighs looked so damn good in those jeans.
“Jimin, Taehyung, I would love to let Yoongi stay with you two more, but he’s got to leave,” Hoseok stepped into the room.
Jimin shot a saddened look at Taehyung but plastered a smile on his face, “it was great talking to you, Yoongi. I hope we can meet again!”
“Same here. Thanks for your time, Yoongi,” Taehyung finished.
The two left the room with Hoseok and Yoongi was left to his own devices once again. He was sad to see them go, they seemed like people he would get along with.
Two weeks passed by, filled with interviews and promotions for his EP, and Yoongi barely had time to himself. Hoseok had informed Yoongi he’d get about three days off during promotions to do whatever he wanted, because it’s what his record label had requested for him.
Yoongi figured, with the time on his hands that, he’d go out to discover L.A more thoroughly. He’d never been to the destination in his world so, besides the places he had to go for promotions, he’d never seen it.
He decided to walk around some places around his apartment. Yoongi realized he should know what's around, in case of emergency or if he just wanted to get a coffee late at night. So that's what he did, he went to the coffee shop across from his apartment building. It wasn’t a “Starbucks”. No, Seoul had Starbucks. But this place was smaller and more quant.
Yoongi entered the small shop with his heart beating from nerves. Butterflies danced in his stomach.
There was somewhat of a line in the coffee shop, which was good because it gave him time to look at his options. Yoongi decided on an iced coffee and a pastry.
When he got to the front of the cash register, he almost couldn’t comprehend what happened. “Oh, Y-Yoongi!” It was Jimin.
Yoongi felt like he was hit by a truck when he was taken by Jimin in his blue apron stating the cafe’s name on it. It was really cute .
“Hey, uh, Jimin,” he gave a weak smile. “What’s good here?” Yoongi looked warily around the cafe.
“Um, if you’re in the tea mood, maybe a hibiscus blend? But if you’re wanting coffee, then definitely try the iced americano,” Jimin stated.
“I’ll have that, then,” Yoongi responded.
“Great!” Jimin punched something into the register while Yoongi got out his wallet. “Oh, no need. It’s on the house.”
“Really? Isn’t that bad business, though?” Yoongi said skeptically.
Jimin waved his hand. “I’m friends with the owner.”
Yoongi awkwardly smiled and said his thanks, and moved to make room for the next customer. He thought about how he got accustomed to this world so easily . It wasn’t like his life in Seoul at all. Better? Maybe. Different? Definitely.
Over the next few weeks, the cycled continued. Though his break ended on the third day, Yoongi still demanded to Hoseok that he make his rounds at the coffee shop. Yoongi would go to the cafe every morning before going to his studio. He would talk with Jimin for about 10 minutes, while he would tip about $20 with a “make sure you get all of this”.
There conversations at the register were pretty quick with a simple “how was your morning?”. While Jimin was making Yoongi’s drink, however, was when they would discuss deeper things. They would talk about good music, living in Los Angeles, and sometimes even their hopes and dreams.
“You’re already achieving yours, Yoongi,” Jimin would comment with a small chuckle as he added a few caffeine to the drink.
“Trust me, I’ve still got a long way to go,” Yoongi answered back. “What about you?”
“Hm?” Jimin hummed in question.
“Your dreams?”
“Oh,” Jimin lightly laughed. “Well when I was in highschool I was dead-set on becoming a professional dancer. God, I loved dancing.”
“What happened?”
“I grew up. Realized you couldn’t really making a stable living on it.”
“And you can on making coffee?”
Jimin laughed. “You’re a good tipper.”
A pause. Jimin handed Yoongi his drink. “Well when I make it big, Jimin, I’ll be sure to get your well-deserved spot as a dance instructor or something. Something you’ll enjoy.”
Jimin’s cheeks flared and he looked down, “thank you, Yoongi.”
One the fourth day of the third week, Hoseok barged into Yoongi’s room. “You have a meeting with the label at 7:00 this morning. You can’t be there late, no matter what.”
“What time is it?” Yoongi said groggily.
“6:30. I’ll drive you to the office, but you have to be ready in 10 minutes.” That woke Yoongi up.
“B-but I have to go to Jimin’s cafe.”
“Firstly, you know it’s not Jimin’s cafe, right? He just works there. Second, you don’t have time. It takes like 15 minutes to get to the office, you have no time,” Hoseok explained.
Yoongi’s heart raced in fear. He imaged Jimin’s pouty face that he didn’t show up, yet still sad. But, Yoongi wondered, why was he so affected by this? Why did it make him so mad he couldn’t see Jimin?
So Yoongi complied. He went to the office, to his meeting, with Hoseok. He met with investors and deejays, people that worked on his album and people that will work on future albums. Yoongi did it all with a frown on his face, as he wondered what Jimin would be thinking as he didn’t come in the morning. Would he be mad? Would he be sad? Would he not even notice? Yoongi hoped none of the answer to those were yes.
Once 9:00 pm rolled around and, as per Hoseok’s instruction, he had gone through meeting-after-meeting and spent time working on a new song. Yoongi, once saving his progress on his computer, took his jacket from a hanger in the room and peeked out the door. No one worthy of telling him off for leaving was near - not Hoseok, not no one. Yoongi thought this is my time to see Jimin .
When had he gotten so enticed by Jimin’s life and seeing him? He’s only a fan. A boy who makes good Americanos.
But if he was only something simple, then why was Yoongi calling the closest taxi to take him to the cafe?
When Yoongi arrived at the cafe, he paid the cabbie and hopped out. The lights were still on. Through a small window, Yoongi couldn’t see much. Would Jimin even be there? He walked inside, the sound of the bell on top of the door ringing.
And Jimin swung his head around from his coffee to the door. “Yoongi.” He had waited. The whole cafe was empty, except for Jimin. He had waited .
He was beautiful. His eyes slightly puffy and red, he had been crying a while ago. Jimin’s hair was slicked back, and he was beautiful. His turtleneck sweater touched his chin, and he was so beautiful.
As Yoongi walked over to the table, the two never broke eye contact. He was only a few centimeters from Jimin’s face. He took the younger’s face in his hands and ran the pad of his thumb against his cheeks. Yoongi bent down and connected the two boys’ lips together. They molded together and it was, to Yoongi, wonderful. It was a romantic kiss, not sloppy or rushed or slutty. It was filled with passion and love.
Yoongi broke off and smiled. “You waited,” was all he could say.
“Yeah,” Jimin replied. “I couldn’t not see you today. It-it was weird.” He smiled brightly.
Yoongi took a seat. “I felt the same.” The younger put his hand on Yoongi’s and pushed his coffee to Yoongi using his other.
They talked the whole night. Eventually they separated and went their own ways, but not without a goodnight kiss. It was the start of something beautiful and it was perfect.
Their romantic, in-love relationship continued on for two more weeks. It was mainly texting and taking longer lunches than usual and sneaking Jimin into the studio. They usually talked, only sometimes would they would quickly make out behind closed doors. That was only after Yoongi found out about the lock on his studio, though.
Yoongi : meet me tomorrow at Spago
Sunshine : yoongi that place is hella expensive
Sunshine : you dont needa take me there…..
Yoongi : baby i made such good money for the last song i wrote lets go and celebrate i like treating you youre worth it
Sunshine : youre a highkey sugar daddy
Yoongi : no i just love treating u
Sunshine : im blushing
Yoongi : dress fancy for me baby
Yoongi got out of his taxi and was rounding a corner to go into the restaurants when he heard someone calling his name. He whipped his head around to see a man who was slightly older than him and incredibly good looking. “Do you know me?” Yoongi looked him up and down and stepped back a big. He shook his head. “I’m your birthday fairy, Yoongi.”
“My what ?” Yoongi spat, utterly confused.
The man laughed. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember?” Yoongi concentrated on the other’s face. “I’m Seokjin, your birthday fairy. And I’m here to take you back.”
“Take me back?” Yoongi questioned.
“To your world. You’ve found what you needed, now you what you need is to go back.”
“What do you mean ‘my world’? And what did I find?” Yoongi was stunned.
“Didn’t you get my note?”
“Yes, but it was confusing.”
Seokjin sighed. “This is an alternate dimension and, like I explained in the letter, in this world you’re a somewhat-famous rapper.”
Yoongi cursed. “So what did I find?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’ve found it, so think.”
Yoongi didn’t care for thinking. “Whatever. I’m not going back. Jimin is here, my career is here.”
“Really? You’re going to play that card?” Yoongi was silent. “Fine. I’ll visit you every weekend, then. To check in. See if you want to go back. Just keep in mind bad things will keep happening until you agree to go back.”
“What the fuck?” Yoongi spat, furious with the consequence.
“It’s the only way, Yoongi. The longer you stay here, the more your life goes back to what it was before.” Seokjin started to walk away. “See you next weekend, Yoongi.”
Yoongi decided he didn’t need to focus his attention on Seokjin and his negative endeavours. He didn’t really believe bad things would start happening, only a cheap trick Seokjin used to threaten him.
As he walked into the restaurant, he was seated as soon as he stated the reservation name. It was exactly 8:00 pm as Jimin walked up to the maître d' and gave the reservation name. Yoongi watched as Jimin was guided to the table and the maître d' left. “You look absolutely stunning,” Yoongi complimented as his eyes raked over Jimin’s frame. His attention seemed focus on the black choker, however.
Jimin giggled. “You look handsome as well, Yoongi.” They talked a bit more before the waiter came up to them for their orders. Yoongi ordered both their meals, and Jimin was awed at his gentlemen-like behavior.
The night was filled with good food and good conversation. One could tell Jimin and Yoongi were made for each other. Nearing 11:00 pm, Yoongi asked if they should leave. Jimin agreed and they called for the bill. The waiter, however, was unprepared as he suddenly tripped but luckily caught himself. Unfortunately, an expensive wine flew and landed all over Yoongi’s nice suit.
“Fuck.” Typically, Yoongi would explode and demand the waiter to get his manager. He was, in fact, mad. Incredibly angry. However, he was with Jimin that night. It needed to be the best night, they needed to end on a good note. Yoongi exploding would not be a good note.
The waiter started to spout apologies, insisting on a free wine or their meal be paid for. Yoongi smiled, agreed with having their bill excused and fled the restaurant.
“You handled that quite nicely,” Jimin noted as they walked to the parking lot.
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that could be easily fixed,” Yoongi responded.
They stopped at Jimin’s car and Yoongi very low-key pushed Jimin up against the driver’s window. The younger smiled and looked down to Yoongi’s lips. “I had a very nice night,” Jimin said.
“I’m glad, baby. I did too,” Yoongi agreed.
“I like when you call me that,” Jimin commented.
“You do, baby?” Yoongi teased. He wrapped his hands around Jimin’s waist and kissed him. His lips slotted easily with Jimin’s as they start something they were very familiar with. Jimin arches his back to get closer to Yoongi’s body as the constant kissing gets heavier and hungrier. Jimin licked into Yoongi’s mouth as if he was feasting, but Yoongi backed away.
“You’re getting too worked up for a parking lot, baby,” Yoongi teased. Jimin looked down sheepishly and a blush flamed across his face.
“S-Sorry,” Jimin stuttered. Yoongi chuckled and kissed the younger once more on the cheek.
“Come back to my place,” Yoongi offered. Jimin agreed
“Fuck!” Yoongi yelled.
It had been about a month since that date and Jimin and Yoongi had gone on numerous dates ranging from fancy to casual after. They were obviously perfect for each other; made for each other. Yoongi felt as if he was in Heaven.
Seokjin had visited a few times; every weekend like he promised. It had been an annoyance to Yoongi: Seokjin would ask him to come back, Yoongi would refuse, Seokjin would threaten him, Yoongi would refuse again, Seokjin would leave. Simple as that. Yoongi decided that wasn’t too bad. Little things would go wrong, of course, like Yoongi misplacing his new expensive shoes, accidentally cutting his finger while cooking, or breaking his headphones.
But this took the cake. Yoongi hadn’t sold a song. They weren’t interested . The record label that had been buying this universe’s Yoongi’s songs for years. What had happened? Yoongi put as much heart and thought in this song as any other. It would’ve been a hit for whichever artist they would give the song to.
“Fucking cunt ass bitch,” Yoongi shouted profanity after profanity to his computer where the email rejecting his song had presented itself.
Yoongi took one of the cups that held his pens and shattered it on the floor. It had been there from before he entered this universe, but he didn’t care about sentiment at the moment. The sharp pieces of ceramic crunched under his shoes as he paced around the room.
He had completely lost it, and forgot he had a very pure, helpless Jimin sitting on the couch in the back of his production room. “Y-Yoongi?” A savage, out-of-control shot looked towards Jimin’s direction. The younger boy huddled himself against the corner of the couch farthest from Yoongi. Both boys’ eyes were bloodshot, but for two completely different reasons.
“Yoongi, sit down. Let me get you some water,” Jimin examined. He hesitantly stood from his position on the couch and walked a few meek steps toward his boyfriend.
Yoongi’s breath slowed and his features became softer as Jimin came in contact with him. The younger cupped his hands around Yoongi’s cheeks and looked into his eyes. “You need rest, lovey. Sleep, and think about this later,” Jimin said.
Yoongi, without any words, nodded his head slowly and took Jimin’s hand in his. He lead Jimin to the bed where they cuddled. Usually Yoongi was the big spoon, but given the circumstance, they switched for the night. Jimin felt as though he needed to care for Yoongi’s well-being as much Yoongi usually does for Jimin. As they were falling asleep, Jimin whispered about how much he loved Yoongi into his ear. Jimin knew that calmed him.
They slept and, Jimin decided, when they woke up they would deal with the situation.
After one of their many fancy dates, the couple hopped into Yoongi’s car to go back to his place. Before he started the car, Yoongi reached over to take Jimin’s hand into his. “Jimin, baby,” Yoongi started. “You, no joke, spend every minute at my house. So I’ve been thinking.” Yoongi reached into the pocket of the driver’s door. “Why don’t you just live with me?” And he opened a small felt box with a key inside.
Jimin smiled brightly. “Oh, of course, Yoongi. I love you so much,” Jimin exclaimed.
“I love you too, baby,” Yoongi said as he started the car.
They rode to the sound of whatever song Jimin liked on the road. Once they got to Yoongi’s – their – home, Yoongi noticed something off. “Stay in the car, Jimin.”
“W-What?” Jimin looked where Yoongi’s attention was focused on and he saw the door slightly ajar with the lights on. “Yoongi, I’m going to come with you.”
“Jimin, stay in the fucking car. Call the police and lock the doors. I love you, baby, but you gotta stay in here,” Yoongi explained. Jimin agreed and locked the car doors as Yoongi exited. He worried for his love.
Yoongi carefully kicked open the door to his house. There were no noises, and from what he could tell the intruders were gone. Though they did leave a mess behind. Yoongi called Jimin out of the car as Jimin was finished with his call to the police.
The two stepped inside more; it looked as though a tornado has passed through. Yoongi’s couch was flipped upside down, all the drawers in every room were on the ground. Jimin grabbed Yoongi’s hand, “oh, Yoongi.”
Yoongi suddenly remembered something very important and treasured he had in his bedroom upstairs. “Stay put and wave down the police,” Yoongi commanded. Jimin complied and Yoongi fled upstairs.
He cursed to himself quietly as he went straight to his bedroom’s armoire’s bottom drawer. He specifically told Jimin to never look in there because all his work was in there and Jimin, being the wonderful boyfriend he was, always abided. Little did Jimin know there was something much more valuable in the little drawer. Unfortunately, however, the bottom drawer’s papers were all strewn about and he looked around until he found what he was looking for. Yes! , he thought to himself.
He picked up the black leather box and opened it. “Fucking shit,” he cursed to himself. The important content on the box was missing. Most likely taken by the intruders. That ring was more expensive than anything in his entire room.
Yoongi fell to his knees in defeat. He knew what this was. He felt a tear fall from his eyes onto the box. “Yoongi, the police– oh,” Jimin stopped as he saw what was in Yoongi’s hands. “ Yoongi. ”
“Jimin,” Yoongi sniffled. “We need to talk.”
As Yoongi talked to the police for what felt like hours. The police kept Jimin and Yoongi separate for questioning. Yoongi’s focus was on the table in front of him but sometimes he would look up to see Jimin staring at him. He didn’t know if it was good or bad; it was just, blank.
When the questioning was over, the police suggested the two stay at a hotel just in case the intruders would come back. They said they’d keep an officer in front over night. Yoongi nodded, thanked the officers, and Yoongi commanded Jimin to go the car. Jimin nodded. Yoongi grabbed a few shirts and pants that hadn’t been used in a while. All the good clothes were gone. No words were exchanged after Yoongi got into the car with a black trash bag full of clothes.
Once they got to the nearest hotel, they walked into the lobby. Yoongi pulled out his credit and asked for the best room they could give at such short notice. The concierge complied with a smile and gave Yoongi two key cards. The two walked up to the room and entered. Jimin sat on the bed while Yoongi set down the bag in the corner. “Yoongi–”
“I’m not really Yoongi,” the older blurted out.
“What?”
“I mean, um, I am really Yoongi. But I’m not really, uh, this Yoongi.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m-I’m the Yoongi from another universe? Like, alternate universes. I’m from a universe where Yoongi is a no-name rapper in Korea, not a fucking famous, rich rapper in Los Angeles.”
“You’re still not making any sense.”
So Yoongi explained it all. His birthday wishes, the alternate reality, Seokjin. And when they got to the night of the first fancy dinner, Jimin lost it. He started sobbing, rightly so.
“All this shit it happening because I’m not back to my universe,” Yoongi explained.
Jimin persisted, “so why don’t you go back, Yoongi?”
“Because I love you, Jimin! And I don’t know what I’d do without you. I mean you–you saw the fucking box. I was ready to marry you.” Another tear slipped out of Jimin’s eye.
“You need to go back. You don’t know what could happen tomorrow, or the next day. You can’t live everyday like it’s going to ruin you.”
“I know.”
A pause.
“What day is it?” Jimin asks. Yoongi doesn’t know, doesn’t care. He sees Jimin look at a calendar on a wall. “Friday. Seokjin comes tomorrow.”
“Fuck.” Yoongi started to cry.
Eventually, after sob after sob, they ended up in each other’s arms. Tears still present, but dried. Eyelids heavy with sleep. “You know,” Jimin said. “I would’ve said yes.”
“I love you so much, baby,” Yoongi added.
There was a pause. “Do you think the Yoongi of this world will remember everything?” Jimin asked.
“Hopefully, yes. Realistically, probably not.”
Jimin chuckled a little. “Guess I’ll just have to woo you one more time.”
Yoongi looked at Jimin and reciprocated the laugh. “That should be easy. You’re so damn beautiful.”
They traded compliments for the rest of the night and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
When Yoongi woke up, he heard two voices. They both sounded soft, yet one sounded more assertive and harsher than the other. He concluded it was Seokjin’s.
“Ah, Yoongi, you’re awake,” Seokjin said as he noticed Yoongi seated up on his spot from the bed. He noticed Jimin’s head was down. “Jimin and I were just discussing your departure.”
“When would I have to leave?” Yoongi asked.
“Now would be the prefered time,” Seokjin answered. Yoongi noticed a tear fall from Jimin’s covered eyes.
“Jimin, come here,” Yoongi directed. Jimin slid into bed with Yoongi and cuddled with him. “Seokjin, can you give Jimin and I a few minutes?” Seokjin nodded and left through the door.
“Jiminie,” Yoongi reached around to the bedside stand. “Keep this.” He showed the empty ring box to the boy cuddled up against him. “Remember me when we were together. Promise me you’ll make every effort to be close to this universe’s Yoongi.”
The two sat up in the bed. “I promise you, Min Yoongi.”
The two were heartbroken as they stood up from the bed and walked to the door for Seokjin to take Yoongi.
Seokjin quietly entered the room and asked Jimin to step into the bathroom. He explained softly that when the occurrence took place, a light so bright it would blind any human’s eyes would shine. Jimin kissed Yoongi hardly and whispered an “I love you” as he stepped into the bathroom.
Yoongi’s mind raced. Part of him wanted to push Seokjin away, tell him to go to hell, and run away with Jimin. But another part of him knew this was the only option to make things right with the universe. Something terribly bad could happen to him in this universe and who the hell knows what that would mean for the other universe’s Yoongi.
Seokjin told Yoongi to keep his eyes shut until he felt a harsh prick to his head. He would know when he was in his universe.
So Yoongi did as he told and shut his eyes.
Yoongi jolted up from his spot on the couch. He looked at the digital clock on his glowing laptop screen and saw it was close to 2 am. Almost no time had passed. Was it all a dream? No, it couldn’t have been. His emotions were still there, still fresh. He could start sobbing because of Jimin at any second.
Yoongi, to take his mind off things, got up to get something to eat from his kitchen. His eyes wandered to something white on the table. It was a folded piece of paper labeled with his name. Yoongi picked up the paper and heard something fall to the ground.
As he bent down to pick up the dropped item, Yoongi notice a sparkle. The ring. That was the first day Yoongi felt alone.
Yoongi was, in the bluntest way, miserable. He forwent routine; everything seemed grey now. He missed Jimin. He missed talking with someone for hours about the most random thing to the deepest thing and end up cuddling after it all.
Was there a Taehyung and a Namjoon in this world? Was there a Jimin? Would they have the same personality or would this universe’s Jimin be horrible and rude and, well, the opposite of the other Jimin?
Yoongi walked into the closest coffee shop he could find as he strolled along a random street he didn’t care to look at the street sign for. He was close to breaking down. His sensories were overloading. The bell when he entered became his main focus, but when it stopped he became distraught. He then focused his attention on the audience before him: the people in the shop. Mostly young, about one or two elderly people. There was a few kids that looked like they biked down from the houses near the shop, some moms with their babies looking overly exhausted, then there was a puff of blonde. Somewhat odd in South Korea, but dying one’s hair becoming more common amongst young people.
Then he heard it. That laugh. The smiles it produced from the people around it. It couldn’t be, he was in Los Angeles. California. The United fucking States! , Yoongi thought.
“Jimin?”