I never thought it would end like this.

"Now off, Park Jimin, I don't need you anymore."
I could feel my heart break at that, could feel all the little shards come off and impale me from the inside out.

They'd warned me, they had all warned me, and still I hadn't taken their advice, the idiot I am. I still can't believe how terribly that went.
I'd thought I would be able to melt that heart of ice, but in the end I managed only to damage my own.

I miss Yoongi, not this Yoongi but the old Yoongi, the one who'd let me hug him whenever I felt like it and who'd laugh with me when I did something stupid and who loved me unconditionally. 
We were never a couple or anything, but it felt that way to me.
And I thought he felt the same, but apparently he didn't. Doesn't.

"Who's that guy? The one in the snapback." 
It was sometime in the beginning of my first year, and I'd been walking down the hallway with my friends when I'd stopped and asked.

"Everyone is wearing a snapback, Jimin. You're wearing a snapback."
"You can't miss the one I mean, though, he's the one that looks all broody and dark."
"Min Yoongi? Ugh, sticks out like all sore thumb, right? He's the best violin player in the school, and sort-of captain of the informal basketball team. Why?"
"I think I'm gonna go talk to him."
"What? No! Why?"
"He looks lonely, is all." I grinned. "He needs a friend, and I'm willing to be that person. No one else is, so it just makes sense that I should be the one, right?"
"Don't do it, Jimin-ah! We love you and you know we only want the best for you, and -- really, he's impenetrable! He'll kill you!"
"I'll be fine, don't worry. I think all he needs is a little warmth and kindness."
"You idiot, 'warmth and kindness' won't fix a nutcase like that! Do you perhaps plan to, oh, I don't know, shower him with lollipops and rainbows and ing unicorns and his innocent baby pictures and see if that'll make him good? Maybe take him to arrange flowers for a living and see if that doesn't fix his HEART OF STONE."
I tried hard to ignore all of them, but their words stopped me from going up to greet him.

Our first meeting only happened a few months after that, on a Saturday. Min Yoongi was alone, at a table that could seat seven or more if you wanted. He was eating jjajangmyun, as if the world had needed yet another way to say that he was a loner, and there was a halo of empty tables around where he was sitting. 

I gathered up some courage, ignoring the incredulous stares of the other students, and ran up to him with hopes for the best.

"Hello, I'm Jimin. What's your name?" I stuck out my hand, like I was actually expecting him to take it and shake.
"If you don't know my name you're either living under a rock or you're the most brainless moron ever to walk the earth."
"Uh, sorry, Yoongi-ssi, I do know your name, uhm, I just thought it was a formality to ask when I was meeting you personally for the first time, and, uh, I don't think I'm either of those.. Well, I like to think that I'm not, I guess, I live in the dorms and I have relatively average grades, but-"
"If you know who I am, why're you here? Aren't you scared of me?"

I fidgeted in my seat across from him, looking down at my feet under the table.
"Well, you're still here, so I'll give you that. You're brave, Jimin-ah, attempting to talk to the Devil Min."
"N-no! I dont think you're a bad person, sunbae-nim, uhhhhhhaahaha.. ha....."
"You're annoying."
There was a pause.
"B-but keep talking, though, it feels empty when you don't now that I'm used to it."
I smiled, albeit a bit weakly.

We talked for hours after that. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and a little way through our conversation it became apparent that this was his breakfast that he was eating at two in the afternoon. He'd woken up about an hour or two ago, he said. I was a stranger to any such concept. I was an early riser, always up before I had to be so I could spend a few hours dancing in the mornings before classes; but he was, as I took it, very used to staying up late and into the next day, closing his eyes when the sun peeked out over the horizon.

The meeting turned out a whole lot better than what I'd been expecting. From what I'd heard, he was so evil-spirited that he could make a smallish child cry just by looking it in the eyes, but what I saw that day was someone who was just alone, with no dreams but his parents' to keep him going. He looked so in need of my help that I held him tight and dragged him into my collection of friends, where I was certain he'd stay for ever and ever.

For a long while after that first talk, I spent almost all my time with him; my continued attempts to have him meet my other group of friends was constantly being undermined by his insistence that he didn't want nor need friends other than me, and their continued insistence that he was too terrible a person even to stand next to. They were always telling me things, foreshadowing that he'd stab me in the back eventually.

My friends and I used to do a lot together, formed a kind of dance club/crew in our free time, made up dances to Krizz Kaliko and sometimes to our own beats. We were pretty good, but we could never perform at the school concerts, because it wasn't an orchestra or small-group performance or even classical music at all. A quintet, we were, or.. used to be, but I began to fall out of practice as I spent more and more of my time with Yoongi.

In my second year and his third, we shared a dorm room, and we grew into a kind of harmonious routine. It was nice.
A lot of the time, Yoongi and I would stay up late practicing and/or doing schoolwork and just make some cup ramen to eat a little after one in the morning, to keep us going. We spent a lot of money together on cup ramen, for the two years that we considered ourselves friends.
That I considered us friends, anyway.

So how did we end up like this?
How did I not foresee it?
What clues did I completely miss that would have let me know that it was coming?

"I was just pretending to be... nice." I remember the utterly disgusted face he made as he spat the word out. 

"Don't you get it? I used you. I used you. You were just too gullible to notice a thing. Hah, you're just as much of an idiot as they said you were. Thought you felt something? Some sort of connection? I hinted at underlying romantic feelings for you so you'd trust me more, . Oh, and since it's very probable no one cared enough about you to tell you already, the auditions were a week ago."

I couldn't believe my ears. I couldn't believe my ears.

What? I wanted to say, but no sound came out of my mouth.

I flopped onto my bed, back facing him, and cried myself to sleep that night. No one heard me. I'd wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning, since I knew that Yoongi would sleep until noon-- Yoongi, I missed him so much, his laughter and his smile and his affection that had all been proven to have been nothing but an act this whole time -- and that would give me time to clean up and collect my things.
I'd leave before anyone noticed I was gone.

I had done a lot of dance at the music academy with my other friends, maybe I'd pursue that instead.

I'm still thinking on that decision this fine morning, sitting in a chair facing the window. I'm watching birds fly by and people walk past the restaurant, watching them move when I feel terribly still. It's been a year since it all happened; if you really wanted to, you could say that today is our first break-up anniversary. I hope he's doing okay.

I ponder in silence as I eat my bowl of jjajangmyun alone, at a table that could probably seat seven or more if you wanted, with a halo of empty tables around where I am sitting.

It's my breakfast.

At last! We meet Yoongi's friend, the final person he knocked down to get to his spot at the top of the academy. Turns out Yoongi didn't care for him after all?!??

Hhahahahahhahahahha you'll find out in Chapter 3.

Also I swear the title has nothing to do with Big Bang, I wrote all this in April;;;

Heart~