The winds were blowing through Seoul’s streets this morning. The skin of Morrigan’s hands felt tight from the cold as she twisted the key for her mail slot. As the rectangular door swung open she found herself hoping all she would find was bills and ads. A thin hand slid into the space and came out clutching onto a small stack of envelopes. Stuffing the papers into her pocket she turned towards the door to escape the cold breeze.

Safely inside the building Morrigan peered into the sky. The gray clouds drifting by tumultuously, seeming far too familiar. The last sunny day she could recall was 3 months ago. 3 months exactly. It felt like the skies missed her as much as Morrigan did. She felt her eyes start to prickle and turned back towards her apartment, sifting through the envelopes as she walked.

Her one year anniversary with Korea was coming up. It’s amazing how much can happen in just 12 months. She came here with so much excitement and energy. And now...she was just so tired.

Pushing the door to her home open she strolled passed the turned down picture frames as she sorted through the mail.

“Bill, bill, junk mail, bill….” Her muttering died out as she stopped in her tracks. In her hands was a white envelope; her name scratched across the front with no returning address. An envelope just like the ones she’d found in her mailbox on this day for the last 3 months. And she knew exactly who'd sent it.

The emotional exhaustion weighing down her entire body started to churn into something else. Like storm clouds, heavy with rain and thunder. Morrigan tossed the other papers onto the counter on her way out of the apartment. The thick envelope crumpling slightly in her grasp.

She'd warned him. She'd told him after the first letter that she didn't want his money. Why couldn't he understand that she wanted nothing more than to pretend he didn't exist. Her shoes slapped against the pavement as she ran to catch a cab. The worn seat squeaked when she leaned forward to tell the driver her destination. On the way Morrigan thought back to the first letter. It had been a month since the accident. She remembered how heavy her steps were and how she'd barely dragged herself to the mailbox before pulling out a crisp white envelope with her name on it. When she'd finally opened the thing she had found a stack of money and a letter. The cab jerked to a stop in front of the tall building then and Morrigan stepped out of the car, rushing to the front desk. The receptionist studied her as she walked over. Likely assessing if she was another ‘dedicated’ fan.

“Welcome. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Morrigan Walker.”

She saw the receptionist’s eyes light in recognition for a split second before she began tapping away at the keyboard. Her eyes scanned the screen in front of her, seemingly not seeing what she was looking for. She looked to you again with sympathy.

“Min Yoongi isn't here right now but we've been instructed to allow you upstairs to wait for him. He should be back in an hour or so.”

Morrigan pulled the letter out of her pocket and slammed it down on the table, causing the thin woman to flinch slightly. “I don't want to see him. Just give this back to him and tell him that if he doesn't stop sending these damn letters I'm going to go to the news.”

The receptionist stared at you in shock for a moment before she nodded. “I'll do that.”

The fires burning in Morrigan’s chest wavered as she looked at the wide eyed young girl behind the desk. “Thank you. And I'm sorry.”

“It's not a problem.” She gave the visitor a hesitant smile. Morrigan turned back towards the entrance before she heard the receptionist’s soft voice again. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

Morrigan felt herself freeze for a moment. Even after three months, that phrase still made her heart twist. Replying only with a curt nod she continued her way outside, eager to return home.

---------------------

She watched the scene unfold from across the street. Just as she'd been made to watch every time she fell asleep. Forced to relive that night as a powerless bystander. Her eyes scanned the sidewalk across the street, spotting the bus stop. And sitting on the bench inside was Morrigan. Another Morrigan. One who had yet to go through the worst night of her life. Morrigan watched herself completely absorbed in the cell phone in her hands, waiting for the night to be over. A few feet away she saw her. Roselyn. She was so excited. Bouncing up and down in anticipation of seeing the boys she'd seen a million times through screens but never in person. She stood away from the crowd. An envelope clutched tightly in her hands. Morrigan watched her little sister waiting in front of the large building patiently and felt warm tears pooling in her eyes. Her heart ached as she watched the girl who'd been her best friend since she was 1 and a half years old. A few yards in front of her the big doors opened and the screams of fans rang through the air. It was starting. Morrigan’s shifted her focus to the her that was looking at the fans in condescending awe. Morrigan’s voice joined the cacophony only to get lost in all the noise. “Get her! Go get her!!” burned as she screamed in vain. She couldn't hear her. She never could. Her feet were cemented to the floor and all she could do was scream. “Save her!”

The group of boys made their way through the screaming crowd. Morrigan turned away from the girl with her face to watch as they reached her sister. Roselyn was calm in comparison to the shrieking crowd surrounding her. A smaller guy with blonde hair paused in front of her and Morrigan watched as a huge smile spread across Roselyn’s face. Only to falter as the man in front of her scowled and rushed passed. Roselyn stood in shock for a few seconds before she started jogging behind the young men now entering their van; waving her letter in front of her.

Morrigan turned back to the her of the past. The woman on the bench stood as her sister ran into the street behind the soon departing vehicle. Morrigan looked away. She knew what was coming.

A car horn cut through the screaming of the fans. A moment of silence. Her eyes slid shut when she heard the screaming start again. Only this time there was only one voice. Hers.

Morrigan's eyes opened drowsily. Dark strands blocking her vision. Her hair fell away from her face as she sat up; momentarily questioning what woke her. Just as she prepared to lie down again the doorbell chimed throughout her apartment. Lifting the phone off her side table she squinted at the bright screen. 10:30 PM. Morrigan tugged the blanket up to wrap around her body like a cape. Sliding off the mattress her feet burned as they made contact with the cold floors. She rushed to the door and hopped onto the doormat to escape the chill of the wooden floorboards. The doorbell chimed impatiently once more and she opened the door with a huff. “Yes?”

Morrigan felt her heart tighten painfully as her eyes took in the face before her. He was wearing a mask and a black beanie but his telltale platinum blonde hair still poked out around the edges. He was watching her apprehensively.

Morrigan took a step back, attempting to swing the door closed, only to be stopped when the man in the doorway shot out a hand to hold it ajar. He spoke in a rushed whisper. “Please. Ms. Walker. I just want to help. You keep returning my letters…”

Morrigan took a deep breath. She watched the young man through the opening with hatred in her eyes. The contempt billowed out of the apartment like a cold fog. Yoongi felt a shiver run up his spine as he turned his gaze away.

“I don't need your letters. I don't need your money. You want to help me? Just stay the hell away from me. Every time I see your face…” Morrigan lifted her head towards the ceiling, trying to control the tears welling in her eyes. Suga looked at her now. Face tense as he watched her try to keep her composure. His feet shuffled back and forth in contrition. The fidgeting came to an abrupt halt when she lowered her eyes to scan his features like she was etching them into her mind, “Every time I look at you, or think about you, or hear one of your damn songs playing in the convenience store… I think of her.”

Yoongi felt her eyes meet his and he watched as trails of loathing and heartbreak flowed freely down her face. “And I think of how the last thing that happened before she died was getting ignored and dismissed by someone she admired so much.”

Suga lowered his head, gaze sliding to the floor. “I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” her harsh whisper echoed through the halls. “Do you even know what you're apologizing for? Or are you just trying to absolve yourself of the guilt?”

He didn't say anything. He just stood there.

“My sister was my best friend. She was beautiful and funny but for some reason she could never see that. She was always so insecure. But even when she was so busy hating herself she always made sure to make me feel like I was worth something. She was the one person I could be myself with and I will never get that back.” Morrigan ran a hand across her cheeks to wipe at the tears trailing there. “I tried so hard to make her see how great she was. How much I loved her… you know I just realized something. I don't hate you because she died.”

In the moment of silence that followed Yoongi raised his head. A mixture of defeat and a glimmer of hope stirring in his chest. And staring back at him were cold brown eyes; devoid of any emotion except contempt.

“I hate you because she died believing that she wasn't worthy of your attention or even a second of your time.”