yellow; yoonmin

chapter one

as i recall my life up to right now, i realize that by making more mistakes i was able to make myself whole again.

everyday seemed to be repeated.

yoongi never recalled a day in his life when something in it was different. there was nothing to look forward to anymore, nothing to surprise him. frankly, surprises really weren't his thing, but the worst part of it all was the thoughts. they never went away. as hard as yoongi tried to believe in himself and what he was doing, he couldn't help but think that all of it would amount to nothing in the end.

after all, that was what his parents said when he up and left them to pursue his dream of becoming a pianist.

he should have believed his parents. he should have stayed home where he knew he belonged. but he had to be stubborn. he had to refuse everything they gave him. he had to pack his stuff, leave the house in the middle of the night, and stay in some old university dorms because his pride got the best of him.

some dream come true, he thought.

yoongi knew he wasn't going to make it. dream big, everyone told him. it's worth it in the end. but everyone around him also had been in a stable house their entire life, with enough money to support them with food, water, clothes, and rent. yoongi barely had enough for food, only had a suitcase's worth full of clothes, and would definitely soon be kicked out of his dorm because of his expiring scholarship.

a musician's start was supposed to be hard, but he didn't know it was supposed to be this goddamn difficult.

right now, yoongi was only trying to survive off his job at the coffeeshop and the occasional busking in the subway or off the street. his classes at the university were free as of now, but his scholarship was only for the first semester. it was ending soon. in a few weeks, if he didn't rake up enough cash to pay starting tuition, he would be kicked out faster than he could play twinkle twinkle little star in d minor.

he really wasn't in the best place right now.

yoongi's days always started the same. his alarm would go off at exactly 6:30, and he would hit snooze and sleep in for another ten minutes. he would drag himself out of bed and hit the shower for 20 minutes, and then drag a comb through his hair messily and get changed in day old clothing. afterwards, he grabbed his backpack, his keys, and his flask and lock the door to the abandoned room, heading out into the world.

he walked outside, breathing in the fresh air. the morning was cold and dewy, just like every other one. with his cracked leather bag in one arm and a metal water bottle in the other, the biting wind nipped yoongi's nose and cheeks, making them rosy. clouds packed close into the city as fog swirled above the distant ocean. as yoongi breathed, his breath made white puffs, which he watched vaporize into the cold.

he took a sip out of the liquid in his water bottle. it was cold and tart, alcoholic. he scoffed. of course, his parents would be so disappointed than he had already started drinking and smoking this early in the game, but he had his way of coping with stress.

the city of seoul never seemed to sleep. even this early in the morning, he could spot people coming home from last night's party, elders walking their dogs bundled in little pet coats, and students riding their bikes to class. as yoongi walked further, he ended up finishing his drink. he shook the bottle, sighing and slipping it back into his backpack. he had become so dependent on the substance that he eventually grew stressed when he had none.

his parents wouldn't be proud of him. yoongi knew that much.

the sidewalk opened up to a roundabout full of cute little coffee shops, bookstores, frozen yogurt shops, and small diners. yoongi's stomach growled at the thought of breakfast, but he knew he couldn't go in and order like anyone else. he just didn't have the money for it.