That text, you shouldn’t have sent it. Telling your ex that you love them? That’s the dumbest thing you can do, period. But you couldn’t help yourself after how broken Yoongi had looked on TV. It was obvious that the stylists had tried their best, but as soon as he had taken off his sunglasses…. Your heart just stopped. His eyes sunken deep into his skull, the broken heart and exhaustion practically spelled out in his eyes. The dark circles under his eyes were worse than you had ever seen them. He looked more dead than alive. He had lost weight too, the already thin man now even thinner.

You shouldn’t have sent that text, but you had been too worried about the man you love to stop yourself. And god, you had missed him so much. Everyday. No matter what you did, he had always been there in the back of your head.

 

In the almost three months since the breakup, the media attention to your person had dwindled down quite quickly. You had actually been left in peace after only two weeks of constant demands for a statement. And those stopped after you tweeted in response to the official statement sent out by Yoongi.

Your few friends in this foreign country, they had been by your side, trying to understand why the two of you had ended it. Why You had ended it. But how could they? Not a lot of people can relate to your situation, so you had asked them to stop trying. And they did. Instead you chose to simply ignore what had happened, everything between you and Yoongi now a thing of the past anyways. You hadn’t moved on, obviously. But you had tried to somewhat silence your feelings, seeming they would never lead anywhere, only keep you from finding happiness with a normal person.

There was more than enough self-help literature out there, on how to get over a breakup quickly, and you had tried, but somehow you always ended up alone, crying and listening to sad love songs, all while eating whatever quick, unhealthy indulgence you had whipped up that day. Often with a bottle of wine as your company of choice.

It wasn’t healthy, but it wasn’t supposed to be.

You had to go back to work, of course. Your old job taking you back with open arms, you couldn’t believe your luck. For eight hours a day, you were no longer “BTS Suga’s Ex-Girlfriend”, you were just a cook. You weren’t famous, just doing your job. And it helped so much. The routine, the work you love, it helped you turn off your brain, your broken heart quiet for a while.

 

Unfortunately, every night when you got home from work, the pain was that much stronger, as if your brain finally opened the floodgates on eight hours of grief and heartbreak.

Crying yourself to sleep is just something you do at this point, it doesn’t surprise you. Drinking every night has become a routine as well.

The only thing that got through to you in your slump of casual harmful coping mechanisms was him. When you saw him on TV earlier… it had been a heartbreak worse than when he had walked out. Seeing him suffer… Seeing him explode like that on TV, . He must be doing bad. You had seen it on every one of the member’s faces, too. They had kept up the usual interview mask, but when he started to get loud in his answer, they all just looked so painfully concerned. Seeing that even the men who had to have been by his side daily were this concerned, it unraveled something in you. The love you had tried to shut away, to ignore, to drown out with alcohol, food and tears. It was back at the forefront of your emotions.

So you had texted him, and regretted it as soon as you hit “send”. How would this help anyone?

The fact that the “delivered” changed to “read” within seconds only made you more anxious.

And then he didn’t answer. Why didn’t he answer?

 

*Yoongi*

 

He had hoped for a positive reaction, but never would he have expected this.

 

#wearesorryyoongi and #wearesorryy/n

 

It was trending worldwide.

All of ARMY was just pouring out their love, their regret, their apologies. Many of the most vocal opponents of his relationship, their accounts had disappeared. Just deleted. The few that were left were mostly quiet.

It felt unreal.

His timeline on every social network was flooded with love. Everybody was supporting him now. Many were commenting on how bad he looked, how hurt. It had made them realise. Realise that no matter how much they loved him, they could not fill the space in his life that was meant for a partner. So they had backed off.

 

He felt like he was living in a fairytale.

 

Many idols had already started posting in support as well, now suddenly also openly condemning how he and y/n had been treated by the media and fans alike. How the whole industry was treating idols, their love lives, their private lives.

Somehow he hoped that his heartbreak would pave the way for actual change in the industry. Celebrities all over the world were hounded when they dated anyone, but with Idols, it often got out of hand since the closeness between them and their fans meant that the fans felt more connected to their Idols, felt they knew them so well, had some kind of claim on them, even.

 

His eyes were wide with shock, lined with tears, both of joy and sadness as he realised that this might be too late. Too late for him and his love. But he still kept scrolling through everything online, the love from the fans making his heart a little lighter. Around him, the other members were smiling brightly, proud both of Yoongi’s impact and their fans.

Jungkook was almost jumping up and down with excitement: “Hyung! Look! Everybody is tweeting at her, telling her they’re sorry. They listened.” The younger man’s big eyes shining brightly at the rapper, Yoongi smiles. It’s hesitant, but nonetheless, a smile.

While the public reaction was mostly apologies, his friends’ texts were of a different nature. It was a wave of “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”.

He hadn’t cared how bad he looked, how little he ate, how little he slept. But now he was out of the house again, had been on TV as well. So now everybody who just thought he had taken some time for himself, they had all seen how bad he was doing.

As he responds to the texts, trying to come up with something to make people less concerned, he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s Jin, a soft smile on his face as he looks down on his friend. “Let’s eat. I ordered extra everything, you look like you can use it.”

The care, the love surrounding him, online but most importantly right here, it breaks his heart to see how concerned everybody is. He tries to smile, but feels the tears streaming down his face silently, as the relief and the pain wash over him, yet again.

Immediately, they’re all right there, their hugs too tight, their faces full of love, of support and what looks like fear.

It’s Hobi who decides to break the silence, break off the group-hug to air out his anger.

“Why didn’t you call me? Call anyone? Why do you always try to suffer alone? We are right here! Always! It’s been almost three months but you look like you’re dead. We are your family, why didn’t you call us? Why did it take a TV-appearance for us to get to see you? You changed the code to the apartment, you didn’t respond to my texts, to any of our texts, and you were doing this badly?”

The anger, the pain on his face is written in plain sight. Looking around, the same pain is in everyone’s eyes, the anger less apparent than in his best friend’s words. But the question doesn’t just come from Hoseok, it comes from all of them.

And Yoongi doesn’t have an answer. He didn’t call them because he didn’t want to. Somewhere deep in his heart, he didn’t want to get through this. If it didn’t end with him and his love being okay again, he didn’t want it.

But that won’t help his friends to feel better. So he just says “I’m sorry.” over and over again. To each one of them. Because he saw how bad he looks. Because he knows how much they love him. And he is sorry. Sorry for making his friends scared from looking at him.

So he eats everything, even if it almost makes him sick. He smiles and laughs with them, letting whoever is closest to him hold on to him as if they’re checking for a pulse. And after a while of all of them together, the smiles aren’t forced anymore. They are real. And he can feel himself healing. It’s a long way to go, but he is moving forward.