sinner. kth x myg

16. late night phone calls

soft music played through taehyung's headphones.

quiet solitude.

he sat alone in his room again, one single lamp lighting up the space dimly. other than the soft sounds of music that escaped the headphones, the room was silent to everyone but taehyung, because taehyung was wearing the headphones. he held the cigarette as silent remembrance.

the phone rang, and taehyung picked up.

"yoongi?"

"hey. what's up?" yoongi paused. "have you been crying?"

taehyung smiled. "no, actually. i'm just tired. i couldn't sleep last night, so i'm kind of exhausted."

"huh. let it all out to me," yoongi said. "i'll listen. talking helps, believe it or not."

his light flickered for a moment, something typical for his cheap apartment and cheap furniture within it.

"i... i'm scared."

"scared of what?"

"everything," taehyung said. "feeling. seeing. living."

white noise played through the phone from the other line, a soft buzzing filling the silence. "you're scared of living?"

taehyung bit his lip. "yeah. i'm running away from it." he took a breath. "is that a sin too? running away from life?"

"sin?"

"yeah. my mother... she used to talk about her sins a lot, so i think about my sins a lot too," taehyung said. "do you think running away is a sin? is cowardice a sin?"

yoongi was silent, so taehyung went on.

"is living a sin too?"

"taehyung, you sound like you're crying again."

taehyung, in turn, brought his hand to his cheek. it was wet, small teardrops trickling down his skin like rain down a glass window. "i'm not crying," he lied.

yoongi probably didn't believe him, but he didn't argue otherwise. instead, he opted for asking, "did you eat today?"

taehyung suddenly felt a sharp growl come from his stomach, followed by a jolt of pain that persisted once it began. yoongi reminding him seemed to have set off his hunger pains again. "yeah. i ate."

yoongi scoffed. "you're lying, aren't you?"

"what makes you say that?"

"taehyung, i know when you're lying."

heaviness filled the empty space between them. taehyung's ears tuned into the buzz of the phone. "yoongi, i'm such a mess." there was no reply, so taehyung went on. "i can't live unless i hurt myself, and i'm so far into this stupid, endless cycle of lying to everyone and hurting myself that i... i can't get out. i'm stuck." he swallowed a sob and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "god, yoongi, i'm broken."

"broken?" yoongi spoke softly but firmly.
"taehyung, you're not broken. you can find your way out, i promise, just-"

"stop lying to me. you're just like me, telling white lies in a useless attempt to protect me. i am broken; i've been broken since i was a child. maybe i was broken from the moment i was born, who knows?"

"you're hurt. you're wounded. you're sad and lost, but you're not broken," yoongi said. "broken means you need to be fixed. you don't need to be fixed; you just need guidance, a path to take to... to be happy."

mommy, you shouldn't smoke. i've heard it's bad for you.

bad for me? who says that?

my teachers.

you're so dumb; it doesn't matter. i'm broken anyways.

"taehyung?"

broken?

and so are you. you're a broken doll. that's what you were when you were born, wailing and crying like a broken clock.

"taehyung?"

mommy, what does that mean?

it means i need to wind you up again and fix you, either that or let you stay broken till you die. i'm going to leave you. fixing a broken child is too much work anyways.

"taehyung!"

he jumped.

"broken means you need to be fixed. you don't need to be fixed; you just need guidance, a path to take to... to be happy."

"are you okay?"

taehyung hesitated. "you... you think i don't need to be fixed?"

"yeah. i do. why? do you think you need to be fixed?"

fixed. it sounded like a word that described the actions of a hammer to a plank of wood. like bolts and screws being put into scraps of metal, or glue attaching shattered pieces of toys back together. fixing meant something had went wrong, and something had certainly went wrong with taehyung. why did yoongi think otherwise?

"i... i do think i need to be fixed. why don't you?"

"because you're taehyung, and kim taehyung doesn't need fixing to be himself."

taehyung laughed softly. "well, i don't particularly like myself, so i'll have to disagree."

"well, i think otherwise, and i'll keep saying it until you agree with me."

taehyung got up to switch off his lamp, slender fingers curling around the light switch to flick it gently. he sat back down on his metal framed bed, pulling his covers over his body. "that's going to be a long time."

"right, but it's going to be a worthwhile long time."

"you're serious?" taehyung yawned, laying on his pillow and looking up at the ceiling, where the shadow of his window lay flat and still. "i'm tired now. i'm going to sleep, yoongs."

"okay, sounds good. good night tae."

taehyung hung up.

he fell asleep, dreaming of broken dolls and a living child amongst them.

a/n:
it's been a whiiiiile since i updated, and i'm also not super happy with this chapter lol. it's getting close to ap exam week, and then we have final exams so it's been a rougH time:,-)) i'll try to update when i can, but they might not be as frequent because of schoolwork and such.

anyways, thanks for reading!! ;)