“cna wee mete befroe u leave"

Christmas passed, so did the New’s Year Eve and whole January. The end of autumn semester meant that Yoongi wouldn’t have a chance of seeing his precious blond friend at university every day, but luckily the random recording session turned into a habit that Yoongi grew to almost literally worship. It was holiday season, thus almost none other big music producers or artists hit the studio that Seokjin’s father owned, they were either on vacation without any end-of-the-year activities or had recorded everything by the end of November.

Yoongi had stopped writing and producing his own music completely. He did notice the negative effect of it, he had become obviously more depressed and the ball of frustration from not being able to vent everything out was killing him from the inside. He was never the type of a person to talk about things, that’s why he began to rap in the first place and now that he was suppressing the urge to do that, it began to eat him alive. But that’s what he’s chosen and he came in terms with watching Namjoon do his thing.

Sometimes the tall rapper would tease his friend, asking him to try rapping and Yoongi hated those moments with all his might. He had mastered pretending that he knew nothing about hip hop scene (well maybe two or three big artists back from middle school when Hoseok used to bully him, because ‘how dare Yoongi listen to same music as the other’) or producing music. But he knew he could never fake rap. Heck, how was he supposed to pretend to at spitting rhymes and all that? So he’d always just brush it all off by saying he was too shy to even try. 

As Suga, he could never talk too much and risk his voice to be the traitor. As Min Yoongi, he could never rap, otherwise he would be exposed. 

Tonight Namjoon was back in the studio, polishing the last song for his very first mixtape but Yoongi wasn’t there. The older guy was sure that all the others – Taehyung, Hoseok and even Seokjin – were hanging around the studio, waiting for Yoongi to join them, but he didn’t feel like seeing them. He never missed on opportunity to be around Namjoon and pathetically stare at him the whole time, but today was different. 

He was in Woodstock, a rock pub in a dark alley of Gangnam, brushing the familiar and beloved stool at the bar. Ever since Yoongi began to hang out with the blond rapper, he kind of abandoned all his favourite spots in town. The places he loved were shabby, smelled of cheap beer and played loud music with creaking guitar noises. Oh how the male had missed all this mess; it was just what he really needed at the moment. Yoongi was a die-hard introvert and he had been interacting with all those rappers and other guys for too long. Coming to a half-empty pub to drink some beer without anyone begging him to speak was what he needed; some consoling in a chaos.

Yoongi pondered over the changes in his life. The way he felt deeper in love with Namjoon for the reasons he had no clue of. It just happened and Yoongi hated for not having a solid reason. Everytime the realisation hit him, he would change his hair colour and it became such a silly habit that from ginger, the guy went to light mint, then bright pink, even burning read until his hair became black as raven’s feathers last week. 

Ginger was for the time Namjoon brought him to the studio for the first time. Light mint was to remember the moment the blond expressed his gratitude towards having Yoongi around. Bright pink was a try to lighten his friend’s mood when his grandmother died. The older guy’s hair turned burning red after they began to spend less time together because somehow Rap Monster managed to attract Jay Park’s attention through Instagram. And now Yoongi’s hair was jet black after one time Namjoon made his heart explode with a sweet message, trying to console the friend (‘Of course, I’m not the one to tell you to look at the bright side. We both are basically walking gloom, but at least we can cheer each other up.’)

For every hair colour, Namjoon thought of new nicknames for his friend and currently he was entitled as Little Modern Count Dracula. He scoffed at remembering the newest name and stared into the light liquid in his glass. He felt his phone buzz in the pocket of leather jacket and pulled it out. The black-haired had received a message and he didn’t hesitate much before opening it but soon wished he did. 

[11:11 PM Hidden Number] Hello Suga

When Yoongi saw those two words, his whole world stopped. He