Chapter Text
Over the past few years yoongi has talked to his growing platform about his struggles on his depression and social anxiety. He featured it in songs and albums, it was received with caring smiles of army's. And the Listeners of his songs could relate to his story, He was happy, especially when Korean media platforms celebrated his strength in coming forward about his problems.
However its now 2020. He thought he had it all figured out, happiness, acceptance, wealth and family. But he felt off, his heart twisted in an unusual way. His brain turned against him spitting sour words.
Yoongi sat at his desk, carefully tracing the spirals of wood. Right hand following the colours of the wood. While the other held his heavy head up. "I'm so tired" yoongi complained, to himself. He's been feeling a lot more down lately. He's tired, stressed and overworked, beforehand rm had helped him with his problems however he feels guilty offloading his inner demons and thoughts on an already stressed out leader.
Growing in popularity meant more stress for everyone. And the last thing yoongi wanted was to be a burden... Yoongi wasn't the best with expressing his emotions out loud to people, often using a creative outlet such as song writing to help him, however the tiredness that settled in his bones left a Chilling empty feeling preventing him from working and facing the world. He feels.. Hollow. "I knew you would never leave me" he sadly chuckled to himself oh how foolish he has been. How blind he has been.
One day, two days, five days.. He can't remeber how long exactly he's been in his studio. Sat awkwardly in his chair. No windows to tell him when the night ended and the day started. His phone was tossed aside on the couch running low on battery and many unread messages and unanswered calls decorated his lock screen. Yoongi didnt work as well when he was in his head.He made beats that didn't work to the theme. Wrote lyrics which didn't fit into the songs. But it still occupied his brain. What do you bring to bts huh? , you call yourself a producer yet you haven't made any progress to black Swan. Pathetic. Yoongi signed and sank into his chair rubbing his temples "I know ok". Killing yourself would be easier, you are just a walking embarrassment now.
And Recently Yoongi had been dancing between real life and space a lot more then usual. He can't remeber the last time he ate. But he can work out the taste on his tounge.. Black coffee, iced, no sugar. He can remeber the beat he made. But can't remeber when he last slept or had a shower.
He was supposed to be normal now. Fame fixes things right. Money.. Food.. His dream had come true but sadly making music had become tiresom to yoongi. His lifeline was slipping. His hobby was a long endless tiresom job. It became a chore. And yoongi, well he died long time ago with his passion for making music but suga is beginning too fade too. It's harder to hold his head up.
Your parents where right. You'll never make it with music.