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“You’re destroying your future. Drop this nonsense!”, the shame seeped through the lips of his father and engulfed him. Please don’t, was all his 14 years old self could think at the harsh words of his progenitor. “You’ve changed. We don’t know you anymore,” his mother said with a worried expression, and his grandmother shook her head in disappointment. I don’t know myself either. Why am I not like you? Everything seems so easy for you...hyung. But I can’t...I can’t leave it. I’m trying...But I can’t leave music.
With furrowed brows Yoongi shuffled through the pages of his new study book, lying on his single bed, feeling the moonlight bathe his body as it entered through the window of the room he used to share with his brother whenever they visited their grandmother. The last time hyung had been there with them was before his wedding. Yoongi still had mixed feelings about it.
The paternal gift wasn’t enough to change his dream from music to physics. To make things worse, the money he had received at the start of the school year had been specifically given to him so he could buy more studying books; and of course he still hadn’t spent it. A futile attempt at rebelling.
“Go to engineering school. Study math.You’re good at it”. Maybe Hyung was right. But, for Yoongi, the idea of leaving Daegu, and therefore, making it into the big scene, was all that kept him going. Maybe, just maybe, music was the answer. Maybe...he could find himself.
He had finally mustered the courage to ask for a job in the recording studio near his school. It will be little money, but he could contribute with the house and learn the business in the process. It was a win-win situation, right? Yet his family didn’t agree. Despite the promise of another much needed income.
For some reason, his brother had managed to talk his parents into this madness, and has been insisting him for 3 months now. Maybe it was some way to see his own dream fulfilled through him. After all, he never got to be an accomplished physicist as he wanted. You’re too selfish. This isn’t my dream, this is yours. All he ever wanted was to play music. Sure, he always liked it when hyung showed him experiments and taught him. He was always nice and patient, the definition of a good teacher. Plus, it was the only moment when they could be alone, and enjoy each other. At least, since he got married. Still, is not my fault that you decided to marry early.
Craving for fresh air, he snuck out of his halmeoni house, trying not to get caught by his parents. He grabbed his bike, and hit the road. She happened to live on the outskirts of the city next to a long paved road.There, everything was endless mountains, rice fields and fruit orchards. A beautiful sight during spring and summer, where the smell of apple blossoms would fill the air.
It was a clear and cold night. The air was somehow dry, even when it had been raining until the night before. There were large puddles where rice pads should be during summer and it was cold enough to see the moon reflect on the smooth surface of the frozen water. They looked like giant silver lakes. He stopped on the side of the road to watch the scenery. The cold breeze ruffled his already too long hair. A sigh escaped his lips, leaving a trail of mist behind. I need to make him understand. I can’t stay here. I need to find myself.. He shook his head in frustration. How did you do that? How did you manage to convince mom and dad? They didn’t lash at you for leaving college, and now they’re taking it out on me? Why? Why me?
With the recent thoughts still flooding his head, he began pedaling again. His legs ached because of the intense cold; but he continued hoping they would get warm with the exercise. Curling his toes inside his boots, he felt the cold texture of the sock’s fabric against his bare skin. A long shiver went down his spine. He clenched to the handlebar while starting to pass a curve. Beyond was a long descent, straight as a ruler, that he used to ride when he was little.
This is it. After the descent, I’ll have my head clear. I’ll have my decision made and it will be what’s best for me. He stopped pedaling as the descent began. Driven only by the inertia of the fall, he slowly let go of the handlebar, and prepared to stand on the pedals. As he raised his arms, he felt the wind leak through every hair, and every fiber of his clothes. The cold burned his skin and permeated his bones. And so, while closing his eyes, his thoughts began to emerge along with some long forgotten memories.
The first time he played the piano, when he was just 4 years old. “I feel so nice, mom!”, his younger self proclaimed enthusiastically. For Yoongi, every sound he heard while pressing a key was like air for his lungs. It was like starting an engine for the first time. Drastic, violent...and blissful.
There was also that time. A couple years ago; the last time hyung stayed for the night without his wife. Yoongi remembered waking up late at night. It was a warm summer night, and the back door was left ajar. As he draw near, he heard his brother mumble low. At first he thought he was just on the phone. But after awhile, he realized he could hear another voice. More specifically, music. It was an array of male voices, strong and syncopated, with a heavy bass drum. A beat he immediately felt drawn to. His brother was merely following the lyrics lazily, taking long drags out of his cigarette in between. The smoke curling in the air; the moonlight illuminating its mystic dance. “I had a precious friend. He felt closer to me than the sound of my own breath. He filled up his dreams with melodies on the piano and the acoustic guitar. And he loved music over reality. He answered the silently approaching gestures of darkness with smiles. And sang mournfully. He leaned on music with a rough voice. And dwelled on his own pain of solitude, only to swallow it down…”. And the memory vanished as easy as it had emerged.
The moon was still high, in all its glory, bathing with its light the long descent, as showing its travelers the road. Yoongi could feel the light leaking through his eyelids, turning every idea into a pretty shade of pink that covered everything.
A roaring sound forced him out of his trance. As soon as he opened his eyes, he got dazzled by the bright lights in front of him. Oh, right. I forgot my safety vest. His body, already numbed because of the cold autumn weather softened the pain of the impact. Near his left ear, the beat of the engine’s pistons played a fast requiem, accompanied by the scratching sound of several tires trying desperately to avoid the inevitable. Ah… If it only had more bass drum...
With a tired body Yoongi lets himself fall on his bed. Fearing he might have awoken one of his roommates he listened carefully for any sign of it but only the sounds of deep slow breathing and the loud snores of Namjoon welcomed him.
His life had changed so much in the past few years. And although he had managed to leave Daegu and make it into the big scene, in night like these his mind drifted back to the city that saw him born and its mountains, rice fields and apple trees.
He undressed slowly, his back killing him at the time to remove his jeans. As his body laid on the welcoming comfort of his mattress, his eyes traveled to the moon boldly peeking through the window of the dorm. The weather was strangely similar that night; dry although it had been raining and cold, as if nature had forgotten it was still autumn.
A pair of cold hands slided around his waist and pulled him closer to their owner. The comforting smell of apple blossoms surrounded him and Yoongi turned to face him sighing in bliss. How appropriate he thought, his mind traveling to that night and the wrinkled warm expression of his halmeoni.
“Hyung...you never finished the story today...how did you decide to become a musician?” his melodic teenage voice cracked in his attempt to whisper as lowly as possible.
“When I was your age...I got runover by a truck…”
A pair of soft lips held a laughter against the skin of his neck.
“Don’t laugh Kookie...I’m serious…”
“But...how? Did it make you realize life was too short not live it or something?”
“No...I decided the world needed more bass drum …”
“ Eh? Do I need more bass drum then?”
Yoongi pressed his right hand on the left side of his chest. His heart was beating with a happy and energetic beat, as expected from the golden maknae. One would have never guessed the boy had as many wounds as Yoongi had back in the day.
The soft lips moved from his neck to his own; insecurity emanating from them, and Yoongi responded in an understanding affection.
“No...the world needs more of you…”