Seven Minutes In Heaven ~ A BTS Short Story

Chapter #5 - Read at 10:15

It had been hours. Days. May had been a week or two. An abundance of empty papers and crumbled ones full of rushed scribbes, collecting dust on the desk. A collection of dirty coffee mugs. And the piano, standing lonesome in the corner, beckoning to be played. To fill the small study with soothing, familiar melodies or cautious, new sounds, fragments of a work of art in the making. To come to life under someone's experienced fingers. But there it stood. Hoping. Waiting. Alone.

Yoongi ran his hands through his messy hair. No matter how hard he tried, the words just wouldn't come. The music just didn't flow the way it should've. Anything he created? Shallow. Simple. Meaningless. Just not good enough. This was his life now, with his creative spirit abandoning him. Now he finally had some kind of audience. And a complete team by his side who'd gladly help out in anything, he'd just have to ask. How cruel life can be, that this was the moment he could not produce a single second of his dearly beloved music. It seems like struggles sometimes took breaks. But they never truly ended.

His head fell onto his arms, crossed atop the desk. For the first time in days, his eyelids felt heavy. He took one last look at the nearly blank, white piece of paper lying in front of him. Just the sight of it brought dissatisfaction to the rapper's soul. Moodily reaching for a pencil he spotted somewhere in the mess, he scribbled two English letters on top of the page. 'N.O.' it said now. He said no to nothing in particular, but to everything in general.

He couldn't resist it anymore. His eyes fluttered shut. Yoongi hoped his dreams would bring something sweeter. A solution to his failed attemps. An answer to his questions. Perhaps a muse. Just about anything to get him out of this piece-of-shit situation. Was it too much that he was asking for?

Humming. An unknown, attractive melody in a familiar, soothing voice dissolved the darkness. Something new. Something sparking enough interest in Yoongi to wake him. Everything stood the same as he left it. The same but still...different. The paper crumbles stacked in a neat pyramid on top of the empty ones. His mugs still dirty, but in a kind of tower you'd see in Alice in Wonderland. This most certainly was not the way he'd left them. Seokjin? No, it couldn't have been him. That voice humming was not his. Something softer. Something higher. Someone like...

It all clicked when he saw the paper with the two letters he slept on. His Fairy Goddongsaeng™ scribbled a message underneath the title. Now it said:
N.O.
Yes :)
You can do it, hyung-nim! The beginning is always the hardest part. Don't let it grind you down.
That message was not his hyung's handwriting. And he wasn't nearly this positive. As the humming continued softly, Yoongi lifted his head slightly.

"How long have you been composing here, Pretty Boy?" he asked, spinning around in his chair, to face a very flustered, half-asleep Jimin sitting cross-legged in the corner.

"I came to check on you about an hour ago and I...I just kinda stayed." He muttered, taken off-guard. "Then I got a melody stuck in my head and I started humming it to get it out. It's stuck there." Who would've thought that Park Jimin would be his saving grace?

"If it's stuck, can you repeat it for me again?" He requested, reaching for some paper and a pen. Jimin just blinked first, but obeyed, restarting the piece for the umpteenth time, as the hyung scribbled the chords.

Fast forward to about fifteen minutes later. Yoongi was now sat at his beloved piano, his fingers running swiftly across the keys, getting used to the rhythm. "I was right in the end you know. Disobeying my parents, and my own original intentions, and coming to Seoul. Auditioning to BigHit." He shared his thoughts now he had someone who'd listen. In the real way. "It's scary how differently things would've gone if I listened."