He walked down the hallway without caring much about the people around him. They were always there, just not worth what Yoongi thought his time should consist of. The way they smiled at each other when they talked, the discreet glances at certain parts of each other was enough for Yoongi to disregard the whole student population. Nothing would be better than the end of a school day like this. A day like this would be like every day he went to school. Wake up, make breakfast, come to school, avoid the other students, get to class, make it through the day. Sleep and repeat. It would be an endless cycle until he got out of school, college and got a job. The only difference then would be going to work and not to school. Somewhere along this cycle, Yoongi began to wonder what was the purpose to life if all they ever did was continue an endless cycle that obviously would continue 'till one died, possibly of the extreme similarities every day had.

He pushed up the glasses that rested softly on the bridge of his nose. Like almost every other stereotypical nerd, Yoongi had glasses. And braces, as if the glasses weren't enough. He liked his glasses though, he liked how he looked in them, better than the bare face without. Braces were a hassle, needing extra care and everything, and the pain hurt like hell. His mother had convinced him to get them. She forced him to accept the fact that she would have him do everything her way.

Everything.

His mother had a theory that because she had gone through so much pain to give birth to him -- but she was out of it for the whole time is what she tells her friend who happened to be pregnant at the time but whatever -- he was basically her pawn, a living being created by her, used by her to grant her wishes and desires. He was not, a person with any will of his own.

 It was music and art that gave him life, even if just a fleeting moment under the stress, beauty in simple things that were a luxury he wasn't able to suffocate himself within.

Life was not a given, not something he took for granted. He did not expect himself to live a safe life until he became an adult, one who could drive, drink, and smoke their lungs to . No, he didn't want to do something like that. Drinking and smoking were for the weak, those who could not use their brain just a tiny bit, and decide what they'd like to do with their lives besides what they did then.

He rounds the corner of the classroom and enters, already deaf to the noise his classmates made so early in the morning. He makes it to his desk in one piece, ddodging the typical crushed paper balls thrown near the trashcan, inconveniently in his way.

A girl walks into the classroom, surrounded by her friends as usual. It's her, the girl everyone likes and only Yoongi hates.

It's not him, seriously, it's not. He doesn't get how nobody else sees the amount of makeup caked upon her face and how fake her smile is or the fact that her chest is as fake as her face. Of course, not exactly everyone is blind; he's heard a few girls talk about how her chest is fake and how she changes in front of everyone so she can show off her chest but it's fake so no one is actually that jealous. There's the occasional guy that actually despises a fake girl but that's rare in a school where every girl uses makeup.

The source of his hate he attributes to her lack of sincerity but he clearly knows there's more to it than that. It's the fact that Jeon Jungkook, handsome sophomore and star of the basketball team, is one of the many idiots blinded by the facade she shows.

He seriously thinks Jungkook can do better than that but the boy isn't doing much but staring at her during class.

One day, a student comes running down the hall yelling that someone's getting it or getting burnt. Yoongi doesn't exactly understand what that means but he assumes something big is happening.

The hallway empties out quickly and Yoongi follows slowly behind the crowd. It's an empty classroom that they're all crowded around and he can make out a mop of brown hair and light brown hair in the classroom. The crowd yells in disappointment suddenly and dark brown hair is pulled out of the classroom. The boy is Jungkook and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe. Something blocks the airway in his lungs and he coughs, inaudible amongst the loud murmur of the crowd. He leaves the mob of people behind him and settles for a peaceful day without gossip (though that's a pipe dream).

It turns out Jungkook asked out Hyebin, the extremely fake girl in his class and she turned him down. Yoongi has not a clue of heck in the world why she wouldn't date him but from what people are saying, she's playing hard to get or she's aiming for someone higher. Yoongi thinks that they might mean Seokjin, a senior that's a model but he's totally narcassistic and doesn't even think about other people. There's Jimin and his muscles but he's got too much of a baby face to be her type. Hoseok is a great dancer but he doesn't think she likes him either. Namjoon... definitely not. He's probably going to trip and wipe half of her makeup off with his sleeve and she'd ruin her life as an ulzzang of the school.

Yoongi still hasn't come to a conclusion yet when he finds a girl crying on a bench in the park near the school. She's wearing the same uniform as him so she's definitely a student. As for why she's crying, Yoongi gives up. He doesn't know. And doesn't care much.

But he's seriously weird today or something. He could have just walked away, he should have just turned around and walked straight out of there but no. He stands in front of her and asks her what's wrong and gives her a pat on the back and a few tissues to wipe her tears. He ing helps her out.

She's not terribly pretty, not that Yoongi's into girls anyways, but she's pretty okay as someone that goes to their school. She doesn't have any makeup on and Yoongi wishes more people were like her. People more confident in their looks and not as insecure to succumb to beauty products that just make you more and more fake.

He leaves her sitting on the bench a few minutes after, unaware of the mess he just got himself into.

He walks into school the next day with an uneasy feeling. The toothbrush suddenly broke while he was using it and he couldn't find his glasses anywhere so he had to settle for his contacts. It'd been so long since he had worn them and he needed a few eye drops to get used to them. His mom hadn't cared to do grocery shopping this week again so he left for school hungry and stomach full of water.

Everyone is looking at him weirdly and it makes him feel weird that they look at him like that. It wasn't like he always forgot his glasses but the glasses-less him was still a normal sight in his opinion.

When he walks into the classroom, it's clear exactly what was the reason of the weird looks. On his desk sits a bouquet of roses and the person sitting in the desk next to his isn't his usual neighbor -- who happens to also be giving him a weird look from the front of the classroom -- but it's a girl. Someone he hates enough to recognize the back of her head on sight. It's Moon Hyebin.

He takes one look at the bouquet of flowers and wants to throw it away on the ground. There's a note card in it and he opens it up.

Oppa,

I've never wrote a letter to a guy I've liked before but you're the first guy I've ever liked so seriously. I think it was when you comforted me at the park yesterday but I really like you. You're the first guy that's treated me so well even though I didn't have makeup on or look pretty. If you like me too, maybe I'll let you date me? Do you like me?

I Love You, Oppa

Moon Hyebin

The note disgusts him beyond words and he looks at her once and tells her one thing before he throws the bouquet out of the window and leaves the school campus. She's all dolled up again and he thinks that maybe she doesn't have a brain to process anything.

"I ing swear to hell, if you've got a brain, use it and don't around."

He wants to be overdramatic and say his life is a living hell but it's not being overdramatic when life literally is one. He thought Hyebin would give up after he treated her so harshly but she only persists harder. Maybe he's got to be more forceful or act like he actually likes her so she can just have the satisfaction of knowing that she's got one more person that likes her in the whole school.

Jungkook is glaring at him and it's a change from the plain ignorance of his existence. It makes sense that Jungkook doesn't like him because he just got ing rejeted by a girl he likes and she just confessed to Yoongi and he rejected her. Yoongi wants to die. Just a little bit. There's a bit of pressure on his chest and he feels like his heart is clenching and turning, moving every vein in his body, making it painful for him to even breathe. He starts coughing again, right in the middle of class when the teacher is speaking so he gains the attention of every person in the classroom. He doesn't stop coughing and he stand up and leaves class.

Forget not sticking out, there's a hundred ways his life could have gone smoothly and the one he's chosen happens to not be one of the very hundred he would have preferred.

That night, he pukes an orange tiger lily petal into the toilet and he thinks that he's not just insane, he's out of the ordinary level of insanity and weirdness.

He coughs up more and more orange petals over the next few days. He keeps every single one in a small container behing the books on his shelf. It's not something that he's ever heard happen to someone else before but he keeps to himself so it does make sense. The coughing becomes worse week after week and he finally searches it up online.

It's a disease, one that can be cured and it's caused by one-sided feelings. As if from a fantasy some sick author created and it turned out to be reality, he's caught this very disease and he wants to blame it on someone. There's no way he's in love with anyone. At least, not that he thinks.

Three weeks after the first day of coughing, he comes to school late, right after the free period has started and there's no one in the classroom. He can see everyone gathered on the basketball court which happnens to be situated behind the school so he couldn't see it when he enterd the school.

"Hey," he hears someone calling out from behind him. He doesn't turn around because he's supressing the urge to cough. "I'm talking to you, Min Yoongi."

"What," he chokes out. It come strained and not like him and he hopes the boy doesn't catch it.

"Why did you reject Moon Hyebin?"

Why? Because he didn't like her.

"Hey Jungkook," he turns around this time. "Do you like me?" Hope lingers just for a moment before it crashes down along with his train of thoughts.

"Ew, two guys like that? Yoongi-ssi, I don't hate you but I definitely don't like you like that." It's as if a thorn from a rose pierced his heart at that moment.

It's okay, he thinks to himself. You definitely should have expected this.

"That's why I didn't accept her confession. Because I didn't like her. Do you understand?"

Jungkook leaves after a while. While Yoongi's shoulders feel lighter, his heart grows heavier and more painful to bear at the moment.

Almost thirty minutes before school begins and fifteen before the classroom will be flooded with his classmates, Min Yoongi sits in his chair at his desk, writing a letter in a neat handwriting. Orange lilies are lhing on every desk in the classroom and the blackboard reads something he had written above earlier. His brain acknowledges the piercing pain in his heart but his will ignores it. Pushing his fingers just a little faster, slightly messier words and finally, he has finished his letter. He slips it into the white envelope and seals it neatly.

It's getting harder to breathe, all the petals clogging up his throat but he thinks of the bright smile of a certain brown-haired boy and thinks to himself that he hasn't seen that smile recently. That the boy's smile has been stolen by something or someone.

He pulls out his phone. Everything has uploaded and he plugs in his earbuds. As he plays the tune from his phone, he lays his head on his forearm, his right stretched out and his left bent at the elbow.

The windows are open, he notices suddenly. He can hear the birds chirp even though it's almost winter and cold. The weather is still nice, almost like spring. It's a good day, a good one for a late fall in November.

He falls asleep to the sound of his own music and he regrets nothing as he repeats his whole life through his head one last time.

"Lim Hyungseok!" The teacher calls roll.

"Here..." Hyungseok answers sleepily before falling asleep once again.

"Min Yoongi!"

No response.

"Min Yoongi!"

"Sir," the class president tells him, "he's sleeping."

The teacher walks over to Yoongi's desk, taking in the slumped form of his student and slamming his attendance book on the desk. Against his expectations, the student does not wake.

"Min Yoongi! Wake up this instant!" The teacher shouts. To his dismay, the student does not wake.

This time, the teacher kicks the desk. The white letter on the desk falls to the ground and the body slumped against the desk tumbles onto the floor from the lack of support.

A girl screams, somewhere unheard amongst the murmur of the class. Min Yoongi is not waking up and the loud thunk against the floor is hard enough to give anyone a concussion. He does not stir.

Someone brave enough to voice a joke in this moment, "Is he dead?" The rest of the class laughs.

The pale of his skin, his lack of movement and not waking up. Fear creeps into the voice of a student who surges forward, holding the black-haired student's wrist in his fingers.

"There's no pulse." His eyes widen.

Three years ago, Min Yoongi died at his school, cause of death was by choking and of a disease called hanahaki. Although the option of surgery was available and the family of Min Yoongi was able to afford it, he is thought not to have undergone surgery due to his uncomfortable relationship with his mother. His father is deceased although the money he had earned during his lifetime was enough to sustain their life and any possible mishaps that could have occurred.

It is thought by producers of music and critics alike that if this young child had survived, he would have become a legend among legends for the music he had posted a mere minute before he is thought to have died proves that he was a genius.

The classmates of Min Yoongi commented upon being questioned that "He never showed this talent of his" and "That he was always quiet". Questions have been raised and some have asked for proof that a teenager produced masterpieces rivaling best-sellers. The account which is linked to the site that released these tracks has been identified as Min Yoongi's private account under a different name. The equipment used to produce these tracks have also been identified as his and only his fingerprints were found on them.

It is a shame that such a promising individual has fallen to such a disease and we mourn for this loss.

The paper is old now, wrinkled from the multiple times of open and close and the envelope that protected it has long been lost. The words are almost illegible though Jungkook remembers them by heart.

Hey,

I never thought I'd find myself writing one of these but I guess you never know what the future holds. That sounds so smart, it's a little weird of me to write this down. I think you know what this is going to be about so I'll get to the point. When I asked you that day, if you liked me, if -- and only if -- you had said yes, I might have been glad that I was alive. For one moment in my life, I have never been glad for breathing and eating and sleeping. Being just a normal person without much of a guide to give me a reason to actually live. When I met you for the first time, you caught my eye. It was because you were wearing two different colored socks and I thought it was really cute. You didn't seem to notice me but no one really does anyways. I don't know exactly when I fell in love with you but I'm sure that I won't regret falling in love with you. Love is an experience that's different every time and I hope you understand when I say that we probably weren't meant to be.

I'm actually probably lucky if you even read this. You're homophobic, or it seems like you are, judging from you reaction that day. If you're reading this, I guess you're just curious as to why there's a letter addressed to you of all people. The reason why I died and also why I started living, even just for a short moment, it was you.

If you loved me, this would have never been written and I might be alive, right next to you right now or we could have broken up because life isn't a fantasy. If this bothers you, the fact that a gay dude that you didn't know existed until the girl that rejected you confessed to him because she fell in love with his random kind moment, burn this.

Burn this so that you'll never have to see or think about this again because it's too much to ask of you to remember me and to love me or even think of me if you hate me.

I love you too much to do that to you.

Sincerely,

   Min Yoongi

(P.S. I just read what I wrote and it's cheesy as so please burn this)

(P.P.S. On a lighter, joking tone, I write this. I won't know if you burn this or not so I guess it doesn't matter)

(P.P.P.S. I'm starting to worry about whether or not you'll actually read this. I think you might not even find it.)