Chapter 01

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The room was silent. Yoongi had just entered the house and there was no one there. He dragged his ass inside, taking his shoes off at the entrance. He went to the living room where his lover stood in the corner. His lover was and still is an extension of his body. He smiled a little. His eyes sparkled. No one was home, which means he can spend the time with his lover: his beautiful brown piano that patiently waits for him to return home every day... He puts his backpack next to the piano and sits in front of it. "Missed me much?", he asks the instrument in a soothing and relaxing voice. Husky even.

Pleasure is a feeling every human being craves in one way or another. And is given to us in different forms. Yoongi's is when he puts his long and thin hands in the black and white keys of the piano. You can say it's almost a sexual pleasure, maybe. He loves to caress the cold keys of his beautiful lover and make it smoothly scream at his touch. Yes, you can say is sexual. He strokes the keys for a while to warm up a bit. After some time, he took a few sheets out of his backpack and started to play what he had written down at school. He scribbled some changes and played everything again to be able to understand what he needed to change.

Sometime later, he heard a car pulling over. He looked at the clock: his parents were home. He panicked: it was supposed for him to be studying.

He got all his papers, shoved it into his backpack and ran to his room. He took some books out and put them on top of his desk at the same time he sat in his chair. His parents got inside the house. His mother went to his room and knocked. "Come in", Yoongi said. The door was opened, and his mother got inside his room. "Hello, son. What are you doing?", his mother asked him. "I'm doing my homework.", said the pale boy pretending a boring voice while scratched the back of his neck.

Yoongi would love to keep making his music, but if his parents found out, he would get in trouble. Two years before, Yoongi was writing some music and he got caught by his mother. She started to scream at him for wasting his time on something stupid and idiotic. She took his sheets and ripped them apart. Yoongi was speechless as he saw what she had done. She continued to scream at him, telling him he needed to study and forget about his stupid dreams. After she got out of his room, he looked at the shredded sheets that laid on the floor. He felt as if his heart stopped beating. He took all the pieces and put them inside one of his books. He laid on his bed under the covers and waited until his parents went to sleep. When the silence filled the night, he cried. He silently cried under the covers. His tears ran through his face, warm and salty, making him feel hopeless.

Silently crying was something he learned how to do over the years, it wasn't something new. His bed was his refuge and his safe place when there were troublesome times. He didn't like to cry in front of anyone, so the only place he felt free to be himself and undress of all the masks that he put on every day was inside his room. Inside those four walls, and between the covers of his bed that felt like an impenetrable cocoon. He was tired of his life: he couldn't do what made him happy because his parents didn't believe in him. And that broke his heart.

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