M P 3

구

Yoongi's pov:

Barely entering the room I could sense an unstoppable force of stiffness and uneasiness.

The feeling made me sick to my stomach, and it wasn't that I was mute, but that I chose not to say anything.

As if my being there was the sole reason for this situation and it made me feel like shit.

However, Jin, the very one I saw intently staring at Jimin, was the one who ecstatically greeted me by calling out my name.

"Hey Yoongi!" He excitedly walks up to me with open arms, welcoming me into a hug in which I do not wish to accept.

"Hey," I softly answer back, taking small glances at the boy behind him who seemed to feel out of place.

"What took you guys so long? We thought you wouldn't arrive on time. We were worried that we would have to cancel for today's show." Namjoon tried his best to suppress his scolding tone, while at the same time seeming relieved that we were there.

"It wasn't really our fault," Hoseok abruptly spoke, beginning to explain the event that had caused our belated arrival.

"We were coming in the van and everything was cool, but Jungkook had forgotten his cell phone charger at the dorm so we decided to stop at the nearest gas station to get him a new one."

He pointed to the youngest of the group who was currently dumbfounded by his hyung's actions.

"Wait, it wasn't all my fault! My phone was dying and manager hyung was mad that I wouldn't answer my phone. He was the one who wanted to get me a charger even though I said no!" Jungkook quickly defended, causing Hoseok to rush to his stylist in slight fear.

"Hmm, I see," Namjoon mumbled, sending piercing looks at the boy who hurriedly fixated himself upon the chair--knowing the great amount of scoldings he was going to get back at the dorm.

"Well at least you're here on time to get your makeup and hair done," Jin waved both of the boys off as he lead me to one of the seats, making me feel like a child that was being taken care by his mother.

I slightly bowed my head in gratitude before taking a seat on the chair; which was where I felt the mp3 that pierced the side of my butt.

I managed to pull it out of my pocket before it made a bruise, and I stared at it harshly for what seemed a rough minute or two.

My mind became a blank page trying to find words to fill in the big empty space that often seemed to disappear when I needed them.

I still had no idea who I had said I had given the mp3 to; I mean how could I when I don't even remember saying anything about it?

My brain was still processing the fact that I had been in a state of coma for a whole week; and it still blew my mind about the fact that no one had investigated why I had been in such a state.

Because what kind of people don't question why their friend, who had been in the hospital in an unconscious state for a period of 7 days, wasn't waking up?! I mean it just doesn't add up.

I forced myself back to reality concluding that the person (Hoseok) who was seemingly gazing at me with worrisome eyes, knew something of what had happened back then.

Cleverly however, before I was about to turn and say something, he averted his attention away from me and onto the stylist standing beside him, who was asking on how his day was going.

Which of course, he answered in a pleasant manner.

"Ugh, why is he such an intelligent being? I'm sure he knows something. My exterior powers can sense it," I whisper under my breath, tightening my grip on the mp3 that became alive as I pressed the home button.