Chapter Text
“Come back and visit, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Don’t forget me, Yoongi-chii, even when you’re all big and famous!”
“I won’t,” Yoongi breathes out, clenching his words between his teeth, “I promise.”
Seokjin smiles, and Yoongi’s stomach feels a little overwhelmed, a little bit sick, like he’s up in front of the whole class, giving a presentation. Nevertheless, Yoongi smiles back, tooth and all, and Seokjin holds up his pinky, making move to seal this promise.
Yoongi raises his hand, pinky out.
-
Yoongi had always wanted more than to find a nice girl and settle down in a small town with a steady job, he had always wanted everything his parents had warned him against. He rapped underground with the supposed wrong crowd, he spent his money on music equipments and records, he wanted more than what the world could offer.
So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that when he’s just a few months in high school, Yoongi stopped everything and instead, jumped on the bus to Seoul with only a backpack in hand, a decision not supported by many.
With no money in his pockets, Yoongi leaves with promises that are too heavy for a sixteen year old to fulfill.
And it should be obvious, what a person would do when something gets too heavy.
They drop it, fingers brushing over the bruises from the weight. Some will remember to come back and pick it up again, when time has passed and success has been achieved. But for Yoongi, there’s never really any looking back.
-
Seokjin was a friend, he was a nice boy that stuck by Yoongi and shared his lunch whenever Yoongi had student council meetings, too busy to pay attention to his health. He was the insistent type, with a lanky upper body and two left feet. Seokjin moved like a giraffe, neck first and body last. It was almost funny, but that’s how he’s always been.
Yoongi had other friends in school, but he gravitated towards Seokjin on occasion because the older boy was always willing to accept him, even when he had confessed to Seokjin concerning his love for music.
During the weekends, when the weather was light and hot, when the flowers bloomed and the sky was blue, they’d pop their bikes up on the side of music stores, stroll through each and every vinyl record, and Seokjin would listen as Yoongi talked about his dream. Then Seokjin would treat him to ice cream with the allowance he had, and they’d sit on the hot pavement trying to lick up the dripping confectionary. They finish the day up with biking to where the cherry blossom trees grow, and they run around, throwing petals at each other. They’d head home with sticky hands and dirty shirts, the tire of the bike grinding against the streets as they race against each other.
Forever, this memory of both Seokjin and their times together will remain as one of the biggest factors that have influenced Yoongi into making the choice he did. After all, if Seokjin said he could, he will.
(And he did.)
-
“That’s horrible,” Seokjin says as Yoongi stands on his tiptoes to order, “Mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste, why not order something else for a change?”
Yoongi stares as the ice cream man scoops up the blue-green treat, before he turns to Seokjin. “You always order bubblegum anyways, so you have no right to say that.”
Seokjin shrugs, but he’s smiling as he counts out the coins to pay, piling them on the counter.
“For your information,” Seokjin continues when they’re out of the store, his tongue licking up the side of his arm to catch the falling bit, “Bubblegum is the greatest flavor ever invented, and I will never grow sick of it. Same can’t be said for mint chocolate though.”
Yoongi grimaces, “Gross.”
Seokjin knocks his knees against Yoongi’s, and doubles over in laughter when Yoongi howls in pain.
“Come on,” Seokjin says as he pulls Yoongi up when they finish their ice cream, “Let’s go to see the cherry blossoms, if we don’t go now, it’ll be dark when we get there and my parents will get worried if I don’t make it home on time.”
"Okay," Yoongi agrees, "Cherry blossoms it is."
-
“So you haven’t been back in how many years?”
Yoongi shrugs, “Around 6 years, I guess, I haven’t really counted.”
Jimin leans in, worry on his features, “Geez hyung, you don’t miss them or anything?”
“Who?”
“Your family and friends.”
Yoongi sighs, fingers curling around his phone, “Yeah, I do. But my parents and my brother visit me here sometimes, so it’s not too bad.”
“Okay,” Jimin nods, before his eyes flicker to his own phone screen that has lit up, “Hey hyung, you know that boyfriend Jeongguk told you about?”
“The one that saved his life while, quote on quote, ‘looking like a movie star with the most gorgeous face ever’?” At Jimin’s laugh, Yoongi snickers, “Of course I have, Jeongguk never shuts up about him.”
“Apparently,” Jimin drawls as he picks up his phone and unlocks the screen, “Jeongguk wants us to meet him. Jeongguk has already seen his friends so...”
“Well,” Yoongi states, “Tell him we can schedule something next week, I’m free.” He adds the next in a whisper, “But... Jeongguk should know how the media works by now, tell him to be careful about his affection in public, it usually rubs everyone the wrong way.”
Jimin is silent, before he leans back with his phone, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.
“Yeah,” Jimin says quietly, “It does.”
-
“Did you hear? Kim Jihoo killed himself.” Is the first thing Seokjin says when Yoongi runs up to him.
“Kim Jihoo? The actor? Why?”
Seokjin purses his lips, “I think it’s because people kept making fun of him because he’s gay.”
Yoongi tilts his head, “Gay? What’s that?”
Seokjin stills, biting on his lips nervously, “It means he likes guys.”
“Oh. And people don’t like that?”
“Yeah, because people are only suppose to like the opposite gender.”
“Oh,” Yoongi states, “But that’s not fair, right? People can like anyone they want, can’t they?”
There’s silence, and Seokjin looks away, fingers playing with the bottom of his shirt, “I wish they could.”
-
Yoongi never misses the Spring Flower Festival that happens in Seoul every April, because the cherry blossom flowers are always in full bloom, dotting the streets with their petals. They fall like snowflakes, slowly and majestically, like they’re always waiting for the right moment, letting the wind carry them away, step by step. Every April since he’s he been in Seoul, Yoongi pays a visit to the street, and he watches as petals after petals fall down, watches how the lights embrace the darkness, and how the flowers are hugged by the wind, before being dragged away into another place.
Springtime in Seoul has never been more glamorous, and Yoongi takes out his phone and opens his camera, taking a picture of the scenery. He holds his phone up, but pauses when he sees a man steps into the frame, standing under one of the trees with a distant look on his face. Yoongi stills, eyes suddenly glued on the man who has now caught a petal in his hand, smiling wistfully.
Yoongi takes a picture, and when he looks down to slip his phone back into his pocket, the man is gone.