Stupid, Spoiled Rich Kids (t.g.kook)

28- comethru

Four days.

The two cousins sat in the living room, idly scrolling through their phones. They felt bored out of their minds. It's been four days.

The mansion felt unusually empty, which shouldn't be a problem in the first place since they've been living like that for the past 16 years, with random people coming in and out of the house, in and out of their lives, none staying for too long. This emptiness that they're feeling though, it's different. Like something, or someone, is missing.

They're missing Yoongi.

Though none of them said it out loud.

They can feel it though, radiating off of the other. Nobody mentioned his name but whenever the front door opened, both of them looked on with anticipation, like excited little pups waiting for their owner to come back. Yoongi became a staple in their lives that they've come to seek, and both boys aren't dealing with it all that well.

The clock ticked painfully slow. It's 8:45 am.

Taehyung stood up, a serious look on his face. "You know what? I'm tired of sitting here and waiting."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed as he watched his cousin stomp away to the direction of his room. "Huh, what— where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

There was a loud slam of the door as soon as he was out of sight. Jungkook could only groan and massage his temples. He whispered under his breath, "You fucking drama queen."

---

"Hyung, I don't wanna go out," Yoongi whined into the receiver, pulling the phone away from his ear as soon as he heard Seokjin's shrill, angry voice.

"What do you mean you don't wanna?! You've been holed up in your room for days! You're gonna start growing mushrooms I'm telling, you need to go out."

"But hyung—"

"And you haven't been answering our calls! I thought you loved me!"

"Oh my god," Yoongi rolled his eyes, but laughed nonetheless. It's been a while since he genuinely laughed.

For the past few days, he had locked himself in his room. His mom knew he's going through a rough patch, and she tried to comfort him, but Yoongi just didn't feel like being comforted. He didn't feel like seeing anyone at all. He wasn't able to enjoy his days off much as he spent it locked in his room, composing messy tunes, trying to deal with his annoying emotions. So what if Mrs. Kim was disappointed in him? So what if he wasn't able to finish his performance, most likely letting down a whole crowd? So what if the boys fought, possibly because of him?

That doesn't mean he's a fuck up. These nameless beats playing in disarray— it doesn't mean he's talentless. Ignoring his friends— it doesn't mean he's a bad person.

At least, that's what he's trying to convince himself of.

He's well aware that isolating himself just leaves too much space to think, yet he couldn't bring himself out of it. Not when it's his unlikely comfort zone. Not when he's been so used to it.

Old habits die hard.

Yoongi ended the call. He turned off his phone and laid down on his bed, closing his eyes. He's tired. Of what, he does not know. But he's tired.

There was a knock on the door.

"Yoongi?"

The blonde sighed. "Yes, mom?"

"You have, uh, guests," Mrs. Min said, sounding quite unsure.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow; nobody said they would be visiting. Still, he got up on his feet with a groan. It could only be the one pair he's thinking of.