When the elderly died, no one mourned. Even the youngest understood that no elderly person would die alone. Such is the nature when you only age when you've lived your life with your soulmate. Something powerful about hearts connecting made it impossible for a person's physical existence to last as long as they possibly could. On the other hand, without the physical and emotional strain of such a partner, after completing puberty humans ceased to age. More common than not, after celebrating an 18th birthday, people stopped celebrating entirely. The young watched as their parents grew old and died while they stayed young to wait for the time they would also be allowed to grow old. Despite the generous prospect of nearly immortal life, the idea of finding the perfect soulmate was almost a desperate search, sparking thousands dating fads worldwide. Even Anti-movements sprung up, encouraging those without a mate to flee from anyone who could take their youth.

In Yoongi’s case, he hadn’t had a choice. His soulmate was one he met in school, well before he’d even reached 18. He remembered the feeling daily and how painful it really was. Sitting in the lunchroom cafeteria, all he’d wanted was to finish his sandwich, but he was disturbed by a short girl with a round face and her hair tied back. She sat at the table with him and his friends due to some mutual acquaintance. He had been in the middle of a formal greeting when he felt the wind knocked out of his chest, and his pulse hammering in his ears dangerously loud. He could have sworn he was having a heart attack, drawing the attention of everyone around. All he could do was shut his eyes and cry, waiting for the pain to stop. He couldn’t hear or see anything, just waves of shock rolling through his middle school frame. When the world finally came into focus, he was on the floor, but he could hear the faint whimpering from someone else. The round-faced girl was doubled over her seat, wheezing uncontrollably.
    “Did she have a heart attack too?” He’d hazily groaned. The teachers hovering over began to laugh, too touched by what he had just been through to hold it in.

“No sweetheart. You’ve just met your soulmate.”

Yoongi couldn’t accept it as such a young child. The idea of girls made him think of cooties and germs and all the complicated things in the world. He fought with the idea of having a soulmate as much as his tiny body would let him. The little girl didn’t seem fond of him either at first, until she realized how musically inclined he was. Their music classes became instantly harmonious as Yoongi played piano and his soulmate sang along. Music brought them close, and close they stayed all the way through their middle school graduation, to high school graduation, and college entrance. Over the years, Yoongi decided he loved her, the little girl with her hair tied back and the round face. He actually counted his birthdays after 18, knowing he would actually age with her by his side. The roundness melted from her face over time and her small hands still fit his just fine. He wasn’t afraid of death because he was certain he’d spend his life next to her.

Yoongi didn’t fear death, not until death came too early. Suddenly there was no girl with her hair tied back. No music for him to play and no one to sing along. It was midsummer when her heart stopped beating.

Yoongi stopped aging at 23.

    Living without his soulmate took a toll on Yoongi’s will to live. Suddenly his mortality was not a gift and his immortality was more of a curse. He stopped telling people about his life and experience. He was tired to being met with pity. He made friends on occasion, but he had to use both hands to count the ones that met their match and left to die in their old age together. This time he’d somehow made friends with two soul mates that actually found interest in things outside each other. Both were significantly taller than he was, but lanky and awkward. Watching the two of  them awkwardly sway at arms length together was one of the few things Yoongi found amusing.

    “Hyung could you stop staring at us like that. I know you’re judging.” The taller, blonde one muttered.
“Well maybe if you didn’t look like you were physically revolted by Jin then I wouldn’t judge you.” Yoongi laughed, rolling a pen between his fingers.
    “He’s not revolted by me, thanks. He’s being considerate of my toes because he keeps stepping on them.” Jin spat in Yoongi’s direction.

    “Only old people dance at parties anyways. You know what? You dance like old people too. I think you’ll blend right in.” Yoongi snickered.

    “Alright you short bastard, if you keep it up I’m gonna dance with you and not be courteous of your toes.” Namjoon threw over his shoulder as he ungracefully tripped over his own foot.

    “Yeah I don’t even think I want to go to this party thing anyways. Wearing a suit always makes me feel itchy.” Yoongi complained as he chewed on his fingernails. Some habits died hard, like nail biting or avoiding social events.

    “You’ve skipped out on the last three parties, you have to go. Besides, what if that big composer you like goes? If you stay home you’ll never get to meet them.” Jin stated as he pulled out of Namjoon’s grip.

    Yoongi pondered for a bit, weighing the possibility of meeting one of his heroes over the inevitable social uncomfortableness he would have to suffer by going out. He had in fact promised them he’d go out at least once to one of their boring parties and he didn't suffer now he would suffer later. It wasn’t even the idea of socializing that made Yoongi cringe, it was the idea that his overzealous friends would undoubtedly try to set him up with some doe eyed person just as lonely as he was. He’d tried dating a few times, but the chemistry quickly fizzled when one or both parties were struck with the realization that this was a temporary fix until something better came. For his partners, Yoongi was just a hand to hold and a body to accompany them into the arms of their soul mates. Yoongi didn’t have that luxury. His time had come and gone, all he was waiting for was something to make his eternity seem worthwhile.

    “Fine, I’ll go. Just… don’t do that thing you do, ok? I really mean it.” Yoongi said as he pushed himself off the couch, pointing an accusing and meaningful finger in the couple’s direction. They both stayed silent but raised their eyebrows at him as he walked out of the room, presumably to change. By “that thing”, Yoongi clearly meant trying to set him up with someone. He had all but given up on relationships and it wad troublesome and tiresome for Yoongi to have to suffer at the pushy hands of his friends.

    For the most part, the party they dragged him to wasn’t as unbearable as it could have been. His suit didn’t itch as much as it possibly could have and the music wasn’t as unbearably boring as it could have been. In their defense, he only had to suffer a few strong drinks to mentally prepare himself instead of several. Yoongi watched from the edge of the dancefloor as Jin and Namjoon ungracefully spun each other around like they were having the time of their lives. Their tempo was off, and their shiny dress shoes scuffed beyond repair from stepping on each other’s feet. Yoongi watched with a sad admiration, painfully aware of their mortality and the fact that just being next to each other, they were dying. From the looks on their faces, they would die in bliss.

    “They look happy don’t they?” A surprisingly deep voice mused, surprisingly close to Yoongi’s ear.

    Yoongi’s head whipped to the side to be greeted by an obnoxiously boxy smile plastered on a face far too close to his. Yoongi leaned away in discomfort while gauging how rude he was about to be to this stranger invading his bubble. When he didn’t respond right away, the smiling man spoke again.

    “You’re Yoongi, right?” He questioned.

    Yoongi squinted his eyes, searching this person's’ face for any sort of recognition.

    “Yeah I’m Yoongi but I am not sure who you are.” Yoongi admitted a bit too bluntly. He felt relieved when it didn’t seem to bother this guy at all.

    “I’m Taehyung. I’m one of Namjoon’s friends.” The smiley guy stuck his hand into Yoongi’s palm without hesitation. “He’s talked about you before. He said you were a composer. That’s pretty cool.”
    “Oh, I guess it’s cool. Nice to meet you.” Yoongi couldn’t help but smile just a bit when this guy was being so genuine with him.

"You seem bored over here. Why don't you come with me and I will introduce you too my friends? Im sure the lovebirds wont mind." Taehyung suggested with a small laugh. He gestured at Namjoon and Jin with their foreheads pressed together, having a heated discussion about something as they awkwardly swayed together.

Yoongi couldn't disagree so he simply nodded and followed behind as Taehyung led him to two people hanging around near the bar. They were both taller than he was but the taller of the two had a distinctly child-like grin. They both turned as Taehyung approached, flashing toothy grins that Yoongi felt were blindingly welcoming.

“This is Hoseok and Jungkook.” Taehyung explained pointing to each of them. The taller one was Jungkook and the shorter was Hoseok. They both seemed comfortable and welcoming. It was a nice change.Yoongi nodded politely to each of them in acknowledgement. “And this is Yoongi. He’s a friend of Jin and Namjoon’s.”

“Nice to meet you.” Yoongi stated politely. Despite feeling welcomed, he still felt a little awkward and shifted in place.

“Oooh I have heard a lot about you from Namjoon.” Jungkook beamed, instantly starstruck, much to Yoongi’s confusion and dismay. “He let me listen to some of the pieces you wrote. They were sooooo beautiful.”

“Aish that guy, I told him not to share those with anyone. Thanks though, I am glad you like them.” Yoongi said, scratching the back of his neck, feeling a bit bashful.

Taehyung was grinning like he had some kind of secret, and Hoseok chimed a trill laugh.

“Jungkook if you tattle on Namjoon all the time you are going to end up getting hit for sure. Ah this kid…” Hoseok chuckled, reaching up to ruffle the younger man's perfectly coiffed hair, causing Jungkook to whip his head out of reach, guarding his hairdo from Hoseok’s wandering hands. Yoongi couldn't place it, but it all felt so natural and comfortable.

“Hey,” Taehyung chimed quizzically “where’s Chimchim?”

“Ooh I think he went to the bathroom. He will probably be really excited to meet Yoongi too. He actually loves your work too..” Jungkook tried to continue but was silenced by Hoseok swatting him playfully, scolding him about getting Namjoon in trouble again. Yoongi laughed softly at their banter, feeling like maybe this party wasn't a bust afterall.

“Oh, there he is.” Taehyung said, gesturing with a tilt of his head in the direction of the bathroom. Yoongi wondered at the glow of this face and the way his lips curled up even though he wasn’t smiling at anything in particular. He was idly readjusting his belt as he approached, slightly acknowledging a new presence among his group of friends. As he approached, his face fell, letting out an audible gasp, holding his chest.

    He started to feel it then. A slow ache building in his chest. For the first moment it felt like heartburn, but it slowly simmered deeper in his chest like kindling catching fire. Yoongi leaned back, bracing himself against the wall to keep himself steady. He was panicked and it showed on his face along with the beads of sweat forming on his brow. His mind raced with all the things it could possibly be. ? Heart attack? He could feel his will to stay conscious slipping as he dropped to his knees ungracefully. Taehyung was the first to react, attempting to catch him as he collapsed, shouting for help almost immediately. A crowd was gathering by now, and Yoongi was vaguely aware of Taehyung tightly clutching his hand, calling his name as the curtain fell on his vision.  He was floating in the vastness of his unconsciousness, suspended for what felt like a lifetime.

"Am I dead?" He asked himself, the question echoing in the subconsciousness of his delusion "It's about time."

Time Floated for what felt like forever before a soft ringing sound echoed through Yoongi’s head. He focused his attention on it, struggling to understand why the harder he listened, the louder the sound became and how incredibly painful it was to listen to. The ringing filled his head till he was sure it would burst. Through the sounds of the Notre Dame bells sounding incessantly, voices murmuring excitedly seeped into his consciousness. Yoongi concluded that unfortunately, he was probably not dead, and only because hell would have a lot less friendly sounding voices, though the pain might be what he expected. Yoongi was conscious now, he could focus on the voices. He heard Taehyung shouting, loveliest sounding demon he had ever heard if this was, in fact, hell.

Slowly prying one eye open, he saw the faces of his new friends plus Jin and Namjoon. They must have gotten tired of dancing, he mused delusionally.

“Yoongi, Yoongi are you alright? Can you hear me?” Jin asked, placing his hands on Yoongi’s face.

He wanted to say “How could I NOT hear your nagging voice.” but all he could manage was a small “Yeah.”

Slowly opening both of his eyes because damn did it hurt to move anything, he peered around, everything looking a bit haloed. He tried to move but it ached too bad, so Yoongi stayed put. He silently cursed Namjoon for making him wear this now more uncomfortable suit. The longer he lay there, the more quiet the ringing became and the easier it was too see. He lolled his head to the side to look in the direction of where Jungkook was standing looking shocked and bemused. Jimin was sitting up with his legs sprawled out in front of him, forehead damp with sweat and staring in stark bewilderment at Yoongi. He turned his head up to Namjoon who was looming over him, the starts of a eating grin on his face.

“What, bastard?” Yoongi rasped out.

“Well, i feel like you owe me an apology.” Namjoon chuckled “and the fee for playing matchmaker.”

The confusion must have played on Yoongi’s face because namjoon just looked even more smug.

“The hell are you talking about.” Yoongi groaned, finally having the strength to raise his arm to rub his eyes.

“That.” Namjoon stated flatly, jabbing his thumb at a still gaping Jimin.

And suddenly it clicked. Yoongi couldn't have possibly thought it was possible, and if the thought it was impossible, how would he have expected it?

Yoongi’s eyes grew wide, slowly turning his gaze to Jimin.

A boy with a round face and his lips turned up.

Yoongi began aging again at “23”.