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There’s no light, saved for the pendants hanging over the tall wooden bar counter, their green shields gleaming. They remind Yoongi of the kitchen lights from his family’s old house. He pads towards them, feeling the pull.
A tall silhouette stands behind the bar, head dipped, hands busying with a rag and a clear glass. Smoke shrouds the bar like a white gossamer cloud, or maybe he’s just tired. Yoongi blinks hard, and it’s gone.
Yoongi pauses when his waist hits the edge of the leather bar stool. He licks his lips and hesitates.
The figure looks up and sweeps drooping blonde curls away from his eyes, “Want a drink?”
“Um, sure.”
“What would you like?”
Yoongi shrugs his shoulders and draws a blank.
“Don’t know what you want?”
“No idea.”
“Hmm.” The figure eyes him thoughtfully, and replies, “What do you like? Sweet, bitter, or maybe something more fun, more exciting?”
“I - I honestly can’t tell you. I’ve never had a drink before.”
“Not a problem, that’s what I’m here for.” A cheshire smile, “Say, do you like cherries?”
“Hmm?”
“Cherries. Hard to get the fresh ones here, but I manage sometimes. I love making syrup with them, boiled with sugar until it’s condensed. I can make a cherry cordial for you?”
“Um, sure.”
The figure’s lips curl, and the glint in his eyes is fond, surprising Yoongi. He gestures at the bar stool,, “Please make yourself comfortable, Yoongi. It’ll take a moment.”
Yoongi doesn’t ask how he knows his name, only loosens his shoulders a little at the words. He’s really not the best at introductions, or so his parents and teachers always tell him. It’s nice not having to do it for once. He climbs up onto the bar stool with some effort, and lets his legs dangle. After a moment, a thought suddenly occurs to him and makes him blush, “Wait, what’s your name?”
The bartender’s hands keep moving between different bottles on the shelves, “My name?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, it’s rude that I didn’t ask for your name.”
“Aww.” The bright brown eyes crinkle, “Nobody ever asks for my name.”
“Really? My mom says it’s the nicest thing you can do for someone, to remember their name and always say it properly.”
“Your mom is very kind. She used to prefer strawberry daiquiri, but over the years, switched to Old Fashioned.” A forest green handkerchief adorns the bartender’s slender neck in a fluttering bow. Yoongi thinks he’s never seen anything so… so elegant.
“And love, my name is Taehyung.”
Taehyung. Yoongi says it in his mind over and over. Taehyung. “I won’t forget.”
“I know you won’t. I’ve never forgotten a name before either, but this feels different, you know? A promise, between just the two of us.”
“A promise?”
“Yes. How about this, love. I’ll let you hold the power of my name, so you can see me whenever you want. But in return, you promise me something too.”
“What do I have to promise?” Yoongi furrows his brows, and leans in closer to Taehyung.
“That you will stay true to yourself for as long as you can. That you will remember me and come back to me til the very end.”
Yoongi mulls it over. He’s not sure what it all means. It doesn’t feel right to make a promise he doesn’t understand. He rubs the polished bar counter absently, tracing the wooden whorls and hearing their whispers.
“Think it over, no rush. Maybe you’ll agree if you like the drink.”
Taehyung finally selects a rounded crystal glass with intricate carvings, and places it on the counter. He brings over a large clear flask and swishes the ruby red liquid within. Yoongi spots shapes, round and dark crimson, blurred into the liquid like forgotten shadows of things once real. The liquid tumbles into the glass, as if it has a life of its own, willingly free falls into its destiny.
Taehyung pops open another bottle and takes a satisfying whiff. Yoongi tries to read the label on the bottle, but his vision is hazy, can’t seem to line up properly.
“Hmm the good stuff. Although, maybe we just put in a little now? Next time, and the next, I’ll add more when you’re used to the bitter and tough.” A quirk of his brows. Yoongi nods dizzily and gulps.
A splash of something is added to the ruby red. It gushes into the glass with a clatter. Taehyung steadies the glass and shakes his head, “Impatient. Something I could never understand. Why rush when there’s all the time in the world, in a loop, all together.”
Another hissing dash of golden specks, and a sprinkle of neon green that sprouts and vanishes in the glass, and Taehyung’s lips curl, “Voila.”
The glass slides over, Yoongi extends over and cups it with both hands carefully. His very first drink.
His eyes flicker to Taehyung, who wiggles his brows at the glass, “Yes, take a sip. That’s usually what you do with a drink.”
Yoongi sucks in a deep inhale, and dips down. The liquid is cool on his lips, and a fragrance spreads in his mind, saccharine and calming, enveloping him like a warm mist. It tastes - it tastes like-
that one time when he got lost from his mom and was so alone and scared and the sky was turning dark and the crowds suffocated him but then she finally pushed through the crowd and hugged him tight and rubbed his back endlessly and told him to never do that again-
The memory assaults his mind, and Yoongi gapes, choking back a sob.
“Do you like it?”
Yoongi bites his lip but nods warily, fingers gripping onto the glass tight.
The creases between Taehyung’s eyes smooth out, “Good. I do make the best cherry cordial in the whole wide universe, you know. Now, love, tell me everything about you.”
“Hmm?” Yoongi licks the ruby red liquid with the tip of his tongue, and hums, like a little bird lost away from his nest.
“Everything, your dreams, your fears, the toys that you can never part, the thoughts that make your heart sing.” Taehyung’s hands are splayed on the bar counter, eyes attentive, “I have all the time in the world.”
—
Yoongi strides into the space, fuming. It’s dark, as usual. The lights above are chromed globes this time, and as he walks closer, he notices the bar counter is made of transparent glass, all pristine and blinding, reminding him of that stupid hotel bar where his heart was shattered by a few careless words.
And no bar stool.
“Where the fuck did the bar stools go?”
Taehyung shrugs, fire red bangs contrasting with his dark azure sweater, “You know how it is, the environment is based on your memories, not mine.”
Yoongi grumbles and leans onto the counter, “Make it as stiff as you can today.”
Taehyung gives him a look.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Please.”
“That’s better. Do you want a different drink this time?”
“Hell no. Why do you even ask.”
“You sure?”
“Yes! You make the best cherry cordial, remember? I’m not having anything else.”
Taehyung’s lips curl just a little at the words. He turns around and Yoongi notices all the shelves are empty, “The bottles are gone too now? Fuck.”
“You know I don’t need them.” A flutter of his hand, and a glass appears, this time angular and tall. Taehyung begins to pull ingredients out of the air, Yoongi watches, feeling the simmering rage settle down with each flick of his wrist. Ruby red, pungent clear, a dash of gold and a sprinkle of vibrant green. And like a magic trick, one single stemmed cherry appears between Taehyung’s fingers, “Look, I got the real stuff this time! You know how rare that is?”
When the glass slides over, Yoongi pulls it off the counter and slams it down without a pause. It is stiff indeed, the sweetness has all but disappeared over the years, but he doesn’t miss it. The notes are decidedly bitter now, numbing as it rushes down, punching through all his cells like a shockwave.
He hears a babbling stream, with faint car honks in the distance. The smell of damp earth and fresh shrubs engulfs him, calming his wayward heartbeats.
Cheonggyecheon.
He remembers now, the day his first book was finally published after years of editing, how he walked around the city in a giddy daze, and ended up sitting by the stream alone, with the most ridiculous grin on his face. It became his favorite place to find himself for years, until life took a toll and he no longer had the luxury of time to just be.
How could he have forgotten, the sound, the smell, the feeling of serenity all by himself.
“Now, are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?”
Yoongi dips his head, “What’s there to say that you haven’t already heard. It’s the same old, I keep chasing and chasing and it never ends well, nothing ever does.”
Taehyung rolls up the sleeve of his shirt languidly, “What do you mean?”
“It’s not even the betrayal this time, you know. I don’t give a shit about it, frankly. It’s just that - that no matter how hard I work on it, on everything, it always turns into nothing in the end.” Yoongi grimaces and stares at the glass, “People come and go, awards and accolades never thrill me anymore, I honestly no longer know what defines me. What is it all for, hmm? I need answers, Tae, there’s gotta be some reason for all this, right? A meaning behind all this… loneliness and struggle?”
“And I already told you, there’s no answer.”
“Fuck. Then what the hell am I doing? Why don’t I just end it all then? What’s the point?”
Taehyung’s voice is soft and careful, “Because you made a promise, remember? To come to me until the very end. And until then, I’ll be here, I’ll listen and serve you your favorite drink. It’s all for you, love. The journey is for you, and you only.”
Yoongi rubs his face, and leans into the bar, at a loss for words.
Taehyung continues, “I know it’s a heavy weight to carry, unbearably heavy. But Yoon, I’m always here. And you’ll get through it, and we’ll laugh about it all over a drink. You can tell me what it all means to you then, how’s that?”
Yoongi’s shoulders droop, deflated. He hums noncommittally, the glass counter feels icy to his skin, prickling.
“Don’t forget the best part.” Taehyung nudges the glass towards him.
Yoongi sees, at the bottom of the empty glass, the single stemmed cherry. No longer a blurred ghost, but substantial and glistening between his fingers when he fishes it out. He bites into the sweet flesh, feeling it rip open under his teeth, the juice oozing out and coating his lips. A sensation washes over him, pushing out a stuttered sigh.
“I soaked it for quite awhile you know?”
“The cherry? In what?” Yoongi murmurs.
“I think you guys call it contentment. Something like that.”
Ah.
“Why is it sweet? You know I can take the stiff and bitter now.”
“Well.” Taehyung scratches his head, “Ok, it’s self indulgent, I admit. I know you can handle it, all the hardship, the pain. But I can’t help but want to give you a touch of sweetness still. Maybe it’s a habit now, maybe I just like to see you happy.”
Something wrangles against Yoongi’s chest at the words, something unnamed and fond, but he scrunches his nose and retorts nonchalantly, “I bet you say that to all the souls you’ve seen.”
A chuckle, “You brat. Ok, I’ll tell you a secret then.” Taehyung leans in and whispers, “Did you know that I’ve never served cherry cordial to anyone else?”
“You’re lying.”
A scoff, “I cannot lie, it’s against my essence.”
Yoongi narrows his eyes in pretend mockery, “I’m not sure about that, how about that one time when you told me Santa Claus was real.”
A glare, “That was a fib necessary to protect the dreams and innocence of a young child.”
“So maybe now you’re fibbing about the drink for occupational reasons also.”
Taehyung draws back hastily and stammers, “You - what - ugh, you’re so - mean, Min Yoongi. So mean.”
Yoongi stares at him, finding Taehyung’s scrunched up face and puckered lips infinitely enjoyable to observe. Eventually, he responds, voice mellow, “It’s a joke, I’m joking. I know you mean well. Thank you, thank you for sharing your very special drink with me. Thank you for cooking the syrup for hours until it’s just right, keeping the stems and pits in the mix so -“
“- it tastes earthy and nuanced.” They finish the sentence together, same words, same speed.
Taehyung giggles, his fire red bangs trembling. Yoongi wonders if they feel as soft as they look.
They pause in the moment, and finally, Taehyung retracts the empty glass, and asks, “You ready to tell me everything now? What’s keeping you up at night? Which people matter to you the most recently? C’mon, lay it on me, I’m ready.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, and relents, “I always do, don't I.”
—
He feels weary, every step is filled with lead, taking all the strength in the world. Yet his heart is light and wide open, like he’s finally finished a marathon, relieved and proud of the most arduous achievement.
When he finally steps into the space, there’s nothing in it. He’s not surprised. Over the years, the furnishing became more and more sparse. The shelving went, then the walls. When the lights disappeared, Taehyung shone from within, illuminating just the two of them with a small sphere of amber glow. So Yoongi half expects this, an empty void with nothing in it, saved for the figure squatting on the nonexistent floor.
He drags himself over, and gasps for breath, “That literally took all the energy I had left, if you weren’t here, I’d probably throw a fit.”
“So dramatic, down to the very last moment.” Taehyung looks up at him, eyes gleaming with the dying sparks of a million stars. He’s in all black this time, black hoodie, black jeans, raven hair long and tucked behind his ears.
“So, are you proud of me? Did I achieve all I was supposed to achieve?” Yoongi sits down next to him, trying not to look into the void beneath.
“But you already achieved everything the very first time you met me. And I am proud, so very proud.” Taehyung murmurs.
Yoongi grins, toothy and bright, “It was a fun ride. Crazy, but fun. You were right, damn it, you’re always right.”
“So it was all worth it, you’d say?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?! C’mon, all these years of listening and making drinks, waiting at your beck and call. It better be.” A pout.
Yoongi just looks at him, back hunched, happiness seeping out of his pores, “Now what?”
Taehyung pauses, his eyes dulling a touch, “Um, I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“You see, I wasn’t even sure I’d see you this one last time. I usually don’t, because I guess I’m supposed to help along the way? And the end is just the end, help is no longer needed.” Taehyung fidgets with the string on his black hoodie.
“What…”
Taehyung lifts his arm and flutters his hand, and a ball of glowing light appears. Yoongi spots the familiar ruby red swishing inside.
“I still get a drink this time? Do I drink it?”
Taehyung is hesitant, words slurring a little, “Well, I feel like this drink is meant for something else. I think it’s meant to help you forget.”
“Forget what.”
“All of this. Your life, this space… me. You have to forget to move on, you see.”
Yoongi‘s head snaps up, “What? Don’t I get a say in this? Tae, I was so happy to come here, to find you and to share this moment with you. I’m not forgetting this, screw that, I’ll let everything else go except this.”
Taehyung continues with the string, loosening it into a million threads, “It’s not up to you or me. I may be able to see the past and the future, but I can’t go where you’re meant to go next. Only mortals can.”
“Then- then I’m staying here. Put that drink away, Tae, I’ll just stick around here until they kick me out.”
A weary chuckle, “You silly man. Ok, there’s one last thing that we can try, the chances are slim but it’s not like we have many options-.”
“No shit. Spill it, Tae, you better tell me now.”
Taehyung straightens his back, “I was once told that promises are very powerful things, when you truly want to keep them. So powerful that the universe bends just for your will.”
“Go on.”
“That’s what brought you to me now, and I wonder if it’ll take us further. You agreed to come to me ‘til the end’. This is not your end, not really.”
“What do you mean, what do I need to do?”
“Yoon, do you really want to remember me? Do you want to come to me, even after life ends, beyond the edge of time?”
“Well, yes, of course. I know what you always say, that life is a solitary journey from start to end. But I don’t want to, I’m spoiled and I need to have the best cherry cordial in the universe with me, damn it.” Yoongi’s vision is blurred, but he wipes away the mist hastily, ignoring it, “Please Tae, and whomever is listening out there, please let him come.”
He reaches towards Taehyung, towards the soft glowing hands that shine from within. Nothing’s there, just warmth and comfort, radiating into his being. But Yoongi tries and tries again, reaching for the hands holding the fragrant drink, trying to hold onto nothing.
And slowly, to his shock, he begins to notice something. The glow fades, first from the fingertips, then from the hand. It dims along Taehyung’s arms, receding like string lights flickering off in sequence. And there’s resistance under his palms, Taehyung’s slender hands materialize, becoming simple and plain, just like his own.
When Yoongi looks up again, Taehyung is no longer glowing, his features cast in shadow from the ball of light containing the drink. Darkness descends all around them, like a comforting shield protecting from harm.
“What happened?” Yoongi rasps.
“A promise is a promise.” Taehyung stares at his own hands in disbelief.
Yoongi holds onto him, not letting go, “Should we try then?”
Taehyung shrugs uncertainly.
They get up slowly, fingers intertwined. Taehyung eyes the ball of light in his hand, “What should I do with this drink?”
“Toss it, for fuck’s sake, get that thing away from me.”
“You gotta stop cursing like that, where we’re heading, they might not like it.” Taehyung looks down at his now very physical feet, and steps out tentatively.
“I could care less. They can suck it. Now help me figure out which way we should go.”
“Yoon…”
They stride away and disappear into the darkness, two heads huddled next to the ball of light in hand. Together.