Violet || Kim Taehyung [ON HOLD]

T W O

🍃March 14

Taking a long drag, I let the smoke fill the room. It smells terrible. Why do I do this to myself? 

I sigh, smashing the cigarette butt into the ashtray. I look at the time. It's seven in the evening. 

It's about time I leave for Jimin's performance. I tuck the silk shirt into my jeans. I hope they look well together. 

I don't know what color both of them are. After slipping on dress shoes, I exit the house, grabbing the car keys. 

This is a different rink, a twenty-minute drive from here. 

I stop on my way to buy a bouquet. People say flowers are colorful and they're so much more beautiful when you can see the colors. 

I rub the petals of the sweet pea flowers, the texture velvety smooth. To me, they're in varying shades of grey except for the spots of violet. I wonder what they really look like in full color. 

Maybe I'll never find out. 

I reach the rink, entering backstage. Jimin is getting ready in front of a mirror, his makeup fully done. His clothes fit tightly to his lithe form. 

I hand him the flowers and pull him into a hug. He relaxes a little, not so tense anymore. 

He could have been my soulmate. 

Maybe we are, in another universe. 

"Good luck, Chim," I say. 

"Thanks."

"I'll go take a seat now," I say. 

He waves as I leave. I sit on the seats, a little uncomfortable as I see the girl next to me immediately has her attention on me. 

"Hi," she says. 

"Uh, hi," I reply. 

"What color can you see?" she asks, leaning closer. 

I have had many people ask this question to me, but not before they even know my name. 

"Violet," I reply. 

"Really, I can see violet too!" she says. 

She suddenly jolts and I can feel the thump on the back of her seat. 

"No, you can't. Stop lying," I hear a hiss, "You can only see brown and I heard it's the color of shit like everything that comes out of you and your brother's mouth."

I stifle a laugh and turn around. It's you sitting behind her. 

I guess I shouldn't be surprised as this part of the seats is mostly for those related to the participants. Sana must be here too.

"Shut up, Y/N," the girl beside me grumbles. 

Your gaze softens when you look at me, quickly turning furious as you look at her again. I don't know why, but in that brief moment, my heart stutters before picking up its pace. 

I don't want this again. It's painful. I can't stand having my heart ripped out another time. 

"Jean is participating?" you ask. 

"Yeah," the girl answers. 

You sigh. I don't know why. 

That rhymed. 

"Well, I hope he breaks a leg. Literally," you grit through your teeth. 

You stand up. That's when I notice your dress. It molds to your body like water, reaching your knees. I don't know what color it is, but it doesn't matter. 

I don't know why my eyes are on you as you disappear. 

And why they return to you when you come back.