The vibrations of a cell phone could be heard in the early hours of the morning. Then came the miniscule wind breeze the phone’s alarm came with, for a “gentler” way to wake up. Yoongi personally thinks that the vibrations are enough to wake anyone up. He groans and swipes his alarm off before standing up and walking towards his closet. He sets his eyes on his favorite gray tie but decides against it and grabs the silky yellow that was behind it, thinking that Jimin would appreciate him wearing his birthday gift instead of hiding it away “because yellow doesn’t look good on me, Jiminie!” Yoongi’s phone alarm went off again, but with a different tune, and he walked back to his night stand, unhooking his phone from the charger. It was his calendar, reminding him that – “Its My Birthday!!” followed by a row of cheesy emoticons and hearts, with a note on the bottom – “Bring me my favorites!!!” He smiles to himself and shoves his phone inside his pocket, trying to remember why he allowed Jimin to do what he pleases with his phone. He adjusts his dress shirt by tucking the tails inside his pants and finally ties the tie (ha) Jimin gave him. Brushing his hair in the bathroom, he looks into the mirror and smiles at his reflection, imagining a day when Jimin finally moves in with him and they can start their days off together. His smile falters, and he leaves his apartment without looking back.

∞

When Yoongi arrives at work, he finds his way to his cubicle and sits on his desk chair, like any other day. He spun in his chair before grabbing the headset by the phone and turning on his computer. After four hours of calling and being rudely hung up on or yelled at, Yoongi comes to the conclusion that the title of a telemarketer is something to be hung in shame but is do-able, just for the paycheck. With a sigh, he continues with his calls trying to hook and reel in customers. Another hour passes by and his boss comes by his cubicle and knocks on the plastic desk. Carefully, Yoongi removes his headset and looks up at Donghyuk, “Yes?” He gulps, but his boss barely spares him a glance as he walks to his office. Yoongi picks up on a faint “Follow me” but he can’t be sure, so he just follows behind. Yoongi has never been inside Donghyuk’s office before, only for his one-on-one interview, but it still looks the same. The monotone colors with a simple bonsai decorating his desk. Is all tedious, like their jobs. And he thinks, that if he stares intensely at the bonsai that maybe, just maybe Donghyuk won’t notice how nervous he is.

“Yoongi,” Donghyuk starts, “I’ve heard complaints about you from our customer. Specifically one.”

“O-oh? Who? No… w-why?” Yoongi flinches at his own sentence, it sounds stupid.

“We’re getting sued.”

Oh crap, Yoongi thinks. It was a few weeks ago. He had been calling a number, whose owner was Mrs. Kim (he never got a first name out of her), and it seemed that every so often (if every so often was exactly 3 days of the week) he would call her from his call list and repeat the same vague opening sentence. It was Mrs. Kim who started noticing the pattern, 3 days, same voice same sentence, and alas she had grown tired of the same ordeal; arguing, being nice, conversing, and sometimes just plainly hanging up, eventually pleading Yoongi to take her off the call list. So he did, or he thinks… he did? The memory was faint, so he doesn’t recall inserting her number in the reject list. The last Yoongi had heard her voice, she stated that if he kept calling she was going to sue. Oh crap.

Yoongi meets Donghyuk’s gaze, and gulps harder than before. “I think you know who I’m talking about, right? Mrs. Kim. She didn’t spare your name, Yoongi. Very direct about it and the lawsuit.”

“Sir –“ he’s interrupted by Donghyuk, who put his hand up to demonstrate he wasn’t finished.

“I think is best you leave, today preferably, for the better of the company. I’m sorry, Yoongi, but we have to let you go.”

Silence fell over them. Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to look at Donghyuk anymore and opted to stare at the beige carpet of the office. He just got fired. Fired. The thought of getting fired was anxiety inducing enough, but actually being fired? No other words are exchanged, so he gets up and leaves Donghyuk’s office.

The short walk from the office to his cubicle seemed longer than before, it was dreadful. He could feel his coworkers’ eyes on him, judging him, pitying him even. One of them even bothered to place a cardboard box by his desk. With slumped shoulders and blurry eyes, Yoongi placed all his belongings in the box. One by one, carefully, because he can still take them to his new job – if he finds another job. When he’s done putting everything inside, he carries it by the holes it has as handles, and heads to the exit. People are still looking. People are still whispering. People are still working. Time goes on forever.

Before he could make it to the door, the bottom of the cardboard seemed to have given out under the weight. The contents inside the box spilled from the now broken box. And he stood there, admiring the mess. Yoongi crouched down and fixed the opening of the box. Placing it next to him on the floor, he threw all of his things inside, and in a moment of rage he threw it in the garbage.

On his way out, Yoongi noticed a picture on the floor where his things fell. It was their picture. The one he looked at to finish his long days in the office, the one he smiled at before leaving to go home. It was simple; he had his arm around Jimin’s shoulder, bringing him closer, and they were both laughing at the way Yoongi was holding the camera instead of his cellphone and using the front camera because “You always make it more difficult for yourself.” He bent down, and gently grabbed it by the corner, turning it around and reading the note behind it; ‘YG: You’re an idiot. JM: I ♡ you. ‘

Yoongi grinned at the photograph and took out his wallet, opening it and carefully arranging the photo inside.

And he left.

∞

It was raining outside, and Yoongi didn’t bring an umbrella. The sidewalks were flooded with a parade of umbrellas, but he didn’t have an umbrella.

The rain didn’t bother him, but what would Jimin say if he got sick? He’s been walking for a while now, not exactly sure where to go at this time. His dress shirt was now clinging to his arm and water leaked to his under shirt and stuck to his skin. He threw his head back and looked at the sky above him, rain falling on his face and eventually his eyes. Yoongi stopped and looked to the other side of the street, where he saw a flower shop. It was decorated with vibrant colors of pinks and greens, sunny yellows and calming whites. Ironic, in this weather.

As the traffic cleared, Yoongi stepped down the sidewalk and made his way to the flower shop. Pushing the entrance door open, a tiny bell rang signaling the employee of his entrance. The person at the counter was a young boy, tall, with dark brown hair and a small scar on his left cheek. Yoongi stopped and attempted to shake some of the water off his palms. He walked up to the counter, and asked the boy for an arrangement of chrysanthemums, tulips, and statices. The employee nodded, and headed to the back of the shop. Yoongi took out his phone as a distraction, but the boy was back with his arrangement of flowers in less time than he expected. He eyes them, and looks up at the boy whose name tag spells ‘Jeongguk’, and nods as he pays.

“They’re beautiful,” because they are and he thinks Jimin is going to love them, “Thank you.”

“Fidelity, love, and remembrance.”

But Yoongi is gone and doesn’t pick up on what the young boy had said.

∞

It’s still raining outside, and the streets are littered with umbrellas. Yoongi didn’t have an umbrella, but he now had a bouquet of chrysanthemums, tulips, and statices.

His phone rings, but he doesn’t hear his ringtone, though he does feel his pocket vibrate. Taking it out, he looks at the ID. He swipes to answer but the screen has gotten rain on the surface and his fingers are wet, so it takes him a while before he can properly answer it.

“Hey Hoseok.”

“Hey, how are you? I heard about what happened at work, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I can handle it. I’m fine.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply right away, and Yoongi knows he’s hesitating.

“Do you need anything? I mean I know today is Ji –“

“I don’t need anything. I’m fine, really. I’ll call you tomorrow,” and he hangs up.

He puts the phone back in his pocket before entering a pharmacy. Yoongi never knew it was here, but his walk down from the office building has let him discover new things, and he thinks that might be a positive outcome from being fired. The automatic doors open, and a gush of cold wind hits him. Shivers run through his body and he can’t stay still. Yoongi travels to the fridge and searches the columns for banana milk. He picks up 2 individual cartons, and goes to the snacks section. He walks up and down the aisle and as lost count of exactly how many times he has seen the same brands of chips and cookies before he sees what he wanted, strawberry pocky, and grabs two packs.

On the checkout counter, the cashier eyes his choice of food, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi. He shrugs it off, because he knows these are ones of Jimin’s favorite snacks and that’s all that matters. He turns around and walks up to the candy shelf he didn’t see before, and picks up a rectangular, hand-sized packaging of imported Peruvian chocolate, ‘Bon O Bon’. The cashier clears his throat, telling Yoongi he’s done, and so he rushes back and places the chocolate on the counter. Another swipe. He pays and grabs the bag of snacks.

∞

The rain hasn’t stopped, and the streets are still infested by pedestrians who take cover under their own umbrellas. Yoongi has no umbrella, but he does have a bouquet of chrysanthemums, tulips, and statices in one hand and a plastic bag containing two cartons of banana milk, two packs of strawberry pocky, and small packaging of Bon O Bon’s.

He waits on the sidewalk with his arm outstretched, waiting for a cab.

A taxi comes near him, and stops, signaling him to enter. So he does.

It’s obvious the cab isn’t new, but it’s more worn out than Yoongi would like.

“Where to?” the driver speaks up, glaring at him from his rearview mirror. And Yoongi doesn’t bother looking up. He smiles, but it has a tinge of blue and tired laugh lines. Brushing his wet hair back, he gives the driver the address.

∞

It’s a long trip, but the sky has stopped crying and Yoongi doesn’t need an umbrella anymore.

He pays the cab driver and gets off at his destination, grabbing the flowers and the bag of sweets. The shabby yellow vehicle drives away. Yoongi is alone again.

He looks to the large white gates and enters the garden of forgotten souls and withered pasts.

Yoongi walks until he finds Jimin’s name.

He crouches down and places the bouquet of his fidelity, remembrance, and love on his tombstone.

“Hey Jimin,” he sits down and rests his head on the epitaph, placing Jimin’s favorite snacks on his lap. “It’s been a long day…”

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Remember to comment/upvote! It means a lot.