lover with $ sign (is a loser) ⸻ taegyu
the sun hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the graffiti-laden concrete of the skatepark. taehyun, his skateboard nestled underfoot, pushed off into the oblivion of his thoughts. he loved the thrill of skating, the momentary liberation it brought, but today, even the rush of the wind against his face felt futile.
he glanced over at beomgyu, who sat slumped on a nearby bench, fingers absentmindedly plucking at the strings of his worn-out guitar. the instrument was a poignant symbol of beomgyu's dreams—dreams his father despised. taehyun could see the way beomgyu's eyes were glazed, as if he were staring into a chasm of despair, strumming a melancholic melody that resonated with his inner turmoil.
"hey, gyu," taehyun called, voice barely cutting through the ambient sounds of the park—the thud of wheels on concrete, the laughter of children, the distant shouts of skaters. but beomgyu didn't respond. he was lost in the reverberations of his own desolation, ensnared in a world that felt perpetually oppressive.
the air was heavy with unspoken words, and taehyun couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. he had a hunch about beomgyu's home life, an inkling of the darkness lurking beneath his friend's charming facade. the weight of it pressed down on him like a thick fog, suffocating yet familiar.
"you're not going to play, are you?" taehyun asked, attempting to pierce the silence. beomgyu looked up, eyes momentarily flickering with awareness before fading back into the abyss.
"why should i?" he replied, his voice low, almost a whisper. there was a fragility in his tone that taehyun had never heard before, and it sent an unsettling shiver down his spine.
"it's just... you love playing," taehyun offered, hoping to ignite a spark in his friend. but beomgyu merely shrugged, the weight of his discontent palpable in the space between them.
"does it matter?" beomgyu's question hung in the air, thick with resignation. "no one cares about my music anyway. especially not my dad."
taehyun bit his lip, the familiar frustration bubbling within him. he didn't know the full extent of beomgyu's struggles; he had only glimpsed the cracks in his facade. beomgyu's father had made it clear that the dreams of a guitarist were a folly, a waste of time and potential. it was a sentiment that echoed in the walls of their home, reverberating with each disapproving glance and scathing remark.
"you could always run away again," taehyun suggested, trying to mask his own helplessness with a glimmer of hope. "find a place where you can play without judgment."
"and do what? live off dreams?" beomgyu scoffed, the bitter edge to his laughter cutting through the air like glass. "i tried that once, you know. but it didn't change anything. i'm still me. and my dad will always find me."
"but you're talented, gyu. you have a gift," taehyun insisted, desperate to instill some belief in his friend. "you shouldn't give up."
"it's easy for you to say that, taehyun," beomgyu snapped, finally meeting his gaze. "you don't know what it's like to have someone constantly belittle your dreams. you have your skating. it's all anyone ever talks about. but when i play, all i hear is silence. or worse, the echoes of my father's disappointment."
taehyun fell silent, the harshness of beomgyu's words resonating within him. he had always seen beomgyu as a beacon of light, a spark of creativity that was undeniable. but now, in the wake of his anguish, he felt an insurmountable distance between them. taehyun's heart ached for beomgyu, but he was helpless in his attempts to reach out, tethered by the invisible strings of their friendship.
