What have I done?

The aftermath of the incident hung heavy in the air, a chilling silence filling the room and leaving Yoongi's family stunned by his unexpected outburst. In the blink of an eye, he unleashed a storm of violence that he could not have foreseen. His father lay on the ground, blood staining the floor beneath him, the weight of his blows rendering him motionless, trapped in a state of shock.

The room around Yoongi seemed to blur and dissolve, his surroundings slipping into an abyss of unknowns. His mind became a tempest of darkness, where sight, sound, and sensation were consumed by an all-encompassing void. A shadow loomed over him, a devouring presence threatening to destroy him entirely. With trepidation gnawing at him, he forced himself to turn away, unable to face the spectre of their expressions if he dared to glance back.

An instinct surged within him, a primal urge to escape, and he heeded its call without hesitation. Abandoning his family was his only recourse, a desperate attempt to forget the searing images etched into his memory. Yoongi sprinted, his feet pounding against the ground, driven by a need to find sanctuary in a realm where he could vanish from sight.

And so, he sprinted until his lungs burned, his heart raced, and his legs threatened to give way. When he finally sensed a safe distance between him and the turmoil he left behind, his eyes fell upon a hidden alleyway, a haven of shadows and secrecy. Yielding to the instinct that had guided him thus far, he slipped into the alley, collapsing to the ground. With his hands folded in his lap, he stared at the bloodstains on his knuckles, a stark reminder of the violence he had unleashed upon the one he had once believed would support him unconditionally.

His mind was a canvas painted with vivid flashes of the conflict, each frame etching a memory of his unforgivable actions. The echoes of his father's biting words reverberated each one, a wound that cut deep into his heart.

"Go ahead and leave! Do you think music is going to get you anywhere? Talent, my ass. An ungrateful son like you can do no good to this family!"

The word "ungrateful" was a dagger that pierced his soul, a term that encapsulated the despair of a son who had never received the approval he so desperately sought. He had anticipated their disappointment, a preordained reaction that had ignited his short fuse, leading him to commit the unthinkable.

Turning to face his mother's tear-streaked visage or his older brother's sorrowful eyes was a torment he couldn't bear. To do so would be to confront the monster he had become, a beast driven by anger, capable of striking down his own blood. His mother's cries echoed in his ears, a haunting refrain that refused to fade.

His brother's restraining grip on his arms, his futile attempt to hold back the tempestuous rage, had left an indelible mark on Yoongi's memory. In the aftermath, an odd sense of satisfaction mingled with guilt gnawed at him, a confusing blend of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. The release he had felt was tainted, tinged with the knowledge that he had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

For so long, he had harboured a reservoir of anger, a simmering resentment that had finally boiled over. He was relieved in some twisted way, having unleashed the pent-up fury he had held against a father who had never acknowledged his efforts or recognized his existence.

But now, shrouded in the darkness of the alleyway, Yoongi's tears fell like rain, mingling with the fading bloodstains on his cheeks. He was trapped in a maelstrom of emotions, torn between the release of his anger and the crushing weight of his guilt. The questions that had haunted countless souls before him reverberated in his mind.

"Why do I exist? Why should I endure a world that heaps shame upon those who don't conform to its narrow standards of success?"

A bitter chuckle escaped him as he murmured, "I never asked to be born, so why the fuck am I here?"

As his silent sobs continued, a shiver ran down his spine, a pang of paranoia coursing through him. He anxiously awaited a call from his family that never came. The silence gnawed at his nerves, pregnant with the fear that they had reported him to the authorities, that the police were hunting him down.

"I need to get outta here," he muttered, determination flashing in his eyes. With a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, his resolve solidifying. He had someone he could turn to, who had always been there when he needed it most.

Fingers trembling, he dialled a number, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited. The moment the familiar voice answered, relief flooded through him, and he couldn't help but let out a shuddering sigh.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

The words were simple and mundane, but they carried a weight that transcended their meaning. At that moment, Yoongi felt a connection, a lifeline thrown to him amid his turmoil. He clung to it, allowing himself a sliver of hope that he could find a way to navigate the darkness that had enveloped his life.


As I entered my bedroom, the phone vibrated, breaking the silence. My eyes scanned the message from my boyfriend, a mix of disappointment and understanding washing over me.

Heechan: Sorry, babe. I'm with my friends right now. The League of Legends Championship will be on in an hour. I'll make it up to you next week.

Me: Sure, that's fine. Next week is okay!

His quick reply was, "Awesome! See you next week! Love you, babe."

I hesitated before typing my response, my feelings tangled with conflicted emotions.

"Love you, too..."

Heechan and I had barely seen each other this month. Petty thoughts gnawed at the edges of my mind, but I pushed them aside. What kind of boyfriend prioritizes a game over a date night? I tried not to let negativity consume me, but my friend Subin's words echoed.

"You're making excuses for Heechan. He doesn't know how to be a proper boyfriend. He's not the gentleman you deserve."

I defended him, but Subin saw right through me. She had a point. I deserved someone who would meet me halfway in this relationship and shower me with love and affection. But was I expecting too much?

As I replayed our short history together, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had put more effort into this relationship than he had. He wasn't as physically affectionate, and sometimes I wondered if he was even as invested as I was. It wasn't that he never tried, but it often felt like I was carrying the weight of our connection.

My phone blinked with two missed calls from Jimin. I called him back, curiosity piqued about what he wanted.

"Hey, Jimin, you called?"

"Yeah, Eun Kyeong. I'd like to know if you'd be up for hanging out. We could catch up, binge-watch something."

A smile tugged at my lips. Jimin and I had spent little time together lately due to our hectic schedules. His offer was a welcome distraction from my relationship woes.

"Sounds great! Want me to come over?"

He offered to come to my place, but I was okay with the walk to his. After he sent me his address, he mentioned a TV series he thought I'd enjoy.

"Speaking of shows, have I told you about Stranger Things? It's right up your alley."

"Cool! I haven't watched much lately, so I'm in. Anything you want me to bring?"

"Maybe a cup of noodles and some chips? I've got drinks covered."

With our plans set, I headed to the convenience store. As I wandered the aisles, picking out snacks and drinks, I saw a man on a corner table. He was dishevelled, covered in mud as if he had escaped from something. His eyes met mine in the window's reflection, and a strange connection seemed to spark between us.

His gaze was intense, a mixture of vulnerability and defiance. I couldn't shake the feeling that he needed help and was hiding a story behind his eyes. Without fully comprehending why, I approached him, my heart racing, plastic bag in hand.

"Hey," I said, my voice surprisingly steady as I extended a snack towards him. "Thought you might need this. It's late out."

His eyes softened as they met mine, the tension in his shoulders easing. I felt a strange connection, a fleeting moment of understanding between two strangers. With a small smile, I turned away, leaving him to his thoughts.

As I walked away, my heart pounded, and I couldn't help but wonder about the story behind those eyes.