Never Mind | #yoonmin

40

The bed sheets ruffle without me moving. I open my eyes and see him laying next to me. It's been so long since he spent the night, it must have been at least 5 years, probably more. A memory returns to me of us going out in Seoul and meeting some girls in a loud bar. We talked with them until the bar got quiet and Hoseok said I should ask the one who had been eyeing me to come back home with me, but I didn't. I just wanted to spend some more time with my friend, so we just went to my apartment after leaving the girls and we fell asleep.

But last night wasn't as fun as that time. Hoseok came over after I told him how my meeting with Seokjin went. I told him how Seokjin has been worrying about me after hearing from multiple people, including Namjoon and Jisoo, about my shitty mood lately. Jisoo also mentioned how bad the recordings went. I don't blame Jisoo for telling Seokjin, she said she just didn't know what else to do while she was watching me lose myself.

Seokjin asked me if I needed some time off, but I refused. I can't be at home now, doing nothing, being alone with my thoughts. I asked him to please just let me keep working, but he kept urging me to take a break. Luckily I managed to convince him, that it would seem like the audio was real if I suddenly didn't show up at work anymore, but the conversation has made me anxious.

"Morning." Hoseok grunts as he notices I've woken up.

"Mmm." I look at him, trying to feel warmth in my heart, but I feel nothing. How come sometimes I feel nothing, while at other moments I feel everything and more?

"Slept well?"

"Yeah." I mumble. Hoseok raises his eyebrows at me. "Fine. No. No I didn't sleep well." I correct myself.

"Been thinking about what Seokjin said?"

"Yeah. I have a bad feeling about it still." I sigh.

"It'll be alright."

I stay quiet for a moment while my eyes zone out. "Thanks for staying, Hobi."

"Of course Yoongs. I didn't want to leave you alone while you're..." He stops his sentence and purses his lips. I think I know exactly what he wants to say.

"While I'm what?"

"Yoongs, you... you've gotten bad again. I can tell."

Hearing him say that finally confronts me with the truth, more so than I could have done myself with my thoughts alone. Of course I knew it already, but I haven't been able to say it out loud. Now that Hoseok has done it for me, a wall is starting to crumble. Solid pieces of brick smash to the ground and reveal little specs of light, causing tears to well up in my eyes.

"Oh Yoongs, come here." Hoseok pulls me into a hug and I press my face against his chest where my tears get soaked up in his T-shirt. I realise I had forgotten the power a true friendship holds. I never want to bother anyone, but would I consider Hoseok to be a bother if roles were reversed? Never. I'd cradle him against me and carefully listen to anything he'd want to get off of his chest. So, maybe, it might be okay for me to softly cry in Hoseok's arms for a bit. Just for a little while.

"Do you know what triggered it this time?" Hoseok asks me carefully.

"I... Maybe... No, I don't know."

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it now. Do you want me to help you get a therapist again?"

"Hmm... I don't want to, but..." I don't like going to therapy, but it's probably a good idea to try again. The first time it felt like such a waste of time, I didn't go again for years. Hoseok basically forced me to give it another shot and I found a therapist which was able to help me a lot better than the first one. Yet still, I wish I didn't have to go. The idea of unpacking all my thoughts and emotions and having to say them out loud to a human being... It gives me the shivers.

"I know you don't like it, but I think it helped you last time."

"Mmm. As long as they don't put me on those shitty pills again."

"Oh shit yeah, you were shaking and sweating... That seemed rough. I couldn't stand your boyfriend at that time. He just did nothing."

"What could he have done, really?"

"I don't know, just be with you for starters. Why else did you call me?"

"Hah, right." My ex always told me that crying is useless and I should just take the pills so we could go out and have fun again. I don't blame him though, who wants to be with someone who gets depressed all the time? Remembering him reminds me of so many reasons why I gave up on serious relationships. After we broke up I immediately felt so much lighter, so much more free to be myself. But now... I have no one to break up with to feel lighter. Why is this happening now?

"Hobi?"

"Mmm?"

"Tell me about that videographer, the funny one you started working with."

"Oh yeah! Oh man, last week she had this crazy idea..."

Hoseok giggles as he tells his stories, probably knowing very well that I just asked him for the distraction, but it just feels so good to hear his laugh. If I could put his laugh into little pills I'd happily take them every day, even if that would just be a temporary bandage on the wound without fixing the actual source of the problem. Right now Hoseok is my bandage. My temporary fix.

——

Since it's Saturday evening I don't expect anyone to be at the dance studio, so I confidently press the button for the third floor. It feels strange to go there after so much time has passed, but it's not necessarily a bad kind of strange. Or so I hope.

As I get out of the elevator the automatic lights turn on one by one in the long hallway. I take a deep breath and slowly make my way to the dance studio. The closer I get, the more the strange feeling twists to a darker kind of strange. I notice how badly I wish Jimin is there coincidentally. I want to find him there, dancing alone under dim lighting, but I know I'll find nothing but darkness and a piano.

After Hoseok left my apartment I started to feel anxious again. Monday is still so far away and I have nothing to do but go for smoking breaks, so I decided I'd come and meet an old friend. The piano. It has been many years since I've last played and I don't even know what song I'll start with, but I'm sure my fingers will guide the way.

I enter the space and I'm met with the expected emptiness. I don't even want to turn the light on, the green light from the exit sign is just bright enough for me to waddle over to the piano and sit down on the wooden bench. Light isn't needed, just the sense of touch and muscle memory of whatever song will pour out of my fingers. I greet the piano with just my right hand by playing a couple keys. It sounds fine, just a bit out of tune.

My eyes close as I let all my finger tips meet the keys now and a deep breath immediately triggers my muscle memories. Without a thought I start playing bits and pieces of Ryuichi Sakamoto. There's nothing cohesive about my crisscrossing around the melodies, but it doesn't matter, it feels good to let the space fill up with something I produce with my own hands.

A sudden image of Jimin dancing to the keys aches my heart. I imagine him dancing behind me under a perfect strip of light. It's almost as if the light actually enters the space. It's almost as if I can actually feel his presence. Hear his breathing. I welcome the overwhelming emotions and I use it to fuel my finger tips. The lump in my throat becomes an abnormally pleasant source of energy.

A snuffling sound abruptly freezes my fingers and I open my eyes to find out that the strip of light was not an imagination. I turn around and see a figure disappear from the doorway. The door closes gently and the light from the hallway is blocked out again.

Jimin?