Getting high brings death.
For Yoongi that is.
No matter how many articles or books you read about how weed and drugs have never killed anyone, that even the famous people themselves do it.
At the end, it's all of these artificial illusions that you give yourself when you're high that kills you. It kills everyone around you. Murders like a kill spree.
And people let it happen, watch in fascination as the flame eats the tip of the joint, breathe in deeply the nicotine of cigarettes. Drown themselves in beer to feel numb and forgetful.
They find it cool, bragging about it at parties and yelling across the rooms because they're high, high on life they say.
It's not true though, these addictions break people. Kill anyone close to them.
And Yoongi had been selfish. Had forgotten that the only being that could make him feel alive and hopeful went by the name Kim Taehyung.
The boy with messy caramel hair that had just started a friendship out of nowhere, that had kissed Yoongi on the cheek in the middle of a lonely playground.
The boy that grew up with Yoongi and he had fallen in love with.
His mother had been right in a cruel way, the smoking killed him and everyone that dared to get close to him.
And it was all for nothing. For the thought that he could be happy smoking and killing himself, when in the end it wasn't himself that he killed.
It was the only person who he loved, Taehyung. His beautiful Taehyung. The star that he let burn and explode.
Getting high does have its benefits yes, it brings an euphoric feeling of peaceful happiness that only lasts for that short while until the yelling is back in your mind.
When you're high you do feel relaxed and smile loopy at everything you see, you even turn a blind eye to what cares and loves you because in your mind no one cares for you.
But, getting high has taken a life. Multiple lives. Taehyung's mother, Yoongi's own mom, the friends Taehyung had at school.
Getting high and pretending that everything was perfectly fine in his world did not mean that Yoongi should have been ignorant to the people around him.
Yet, Yoongi still smokes.
Even if Taehyung is dead.
It's a punishment he says.
It is really Yoongi?
He hears the voices ask.
Yoongi blows harder, tears falling. It's all he does now, cry and smoke until the tears blur the sky full of exploding stars.
The moon is grey like the smoke that fills him up every day, stars combusting inside of his body and killing him with every inhale and exhale like the stars above.
Yoongi wonders how many people have found solace in the taste of weed and paper, in burning touches from ecstasy, on the fuzzy feeling of being drunk until you can't walk.
Because Yoongi found life in the star of Taehyung, but he destroyed it. Killed it and burned it with his own hands.
Took that lighter and created a fire that grew into a monster, one that Yoongi had never meant to harm with.
It was stupid, how people pretended to be happy in a world where people would create all of these illusions.
Illusions that would only tamper and become dust, because they were never real in the first place.
How absorbed some of those people get that they need the drugs and drinks and addictions in their life just to be happy. It's not even genuine.
Yoongi takes another drag from his joint, tears filling to the brim and once again falling. His shirt is damp and his throat is killing him, the lump that won't let him swallow and the smoke in his lungs that won't let him breathe.
He closes his eyes and sees, for the first time a star come to life. A tiny spark that shoots across the night sky and slowly burns with the spark of the fire left from the one Yoongi had created before.
Yoongi flicks the ashes from his joint and inhales the weed, his mind swirling in fires of exploding stars and black holes.
In Kim Taehyung.
