Min Yoongi is sitting still in his personal studio, mind blank and the computer screen filled with music notes and beats in a gyre. Tomorrow has been on loop for the past two hours and in that very second, he feels lonely. So extremely lonely, he almost doesn’t know himself.

It’s two in the morning and all the members have returned home. Namjoon told him he was returning with the rest earlier that day because he was too exhausted from the amount of schedules.  

Yoongi finally moves and stops the music, taking the headphones off. The dark feeling brewing in his chest only grows and he’s unsure what to do. All he knows is that sad songs reminds him how terribly lonely and depressed he feels. There isn’t an exact reason as to why, but when trying to work on a song, memories of old friends, his family, and s come rushing through his bloodstream. It’s got him feeling so many things, so many ways and his head is swarming with hurtful thoughts.

It’s normal, he tries to convince himself. It’s normal because Min Yoongi doesn’t care much for others. Min Yoongi has a heart and backbone of steel. His heart is aching now and he comes to the conclusion that he’s definitely not normal. His body feels like weak bamboo and the unexplainable dark feeling in his chest hurts. He doesn’t want to cry, and he doesn’t feel like he will, but he thinks that he should.

It’s a terrible feeling, really. Everything suddenly feels pointless. He had no inspiration to make a song. Why was he doing this again? He’s lightheaded and attempts to drive the droned feelings away by beating at his chest. He doesn’t think he has the right to call these feelings what he does, but he speaks the word with so much conviction, it stings on his tongue.

“Depressed?”

He laughs and then realizes he doesn’t feel anything.

Before the members left the company building, he felt fine. More determined, if anything. He sat down, opened up his program and drove himself to find inspiration. It had worked for a long while, but after Namjoon had left everything slowly fell apart.

He wants to blame how incredibly mundane the idol life is. He does nothing new, everything repeating in cycles of lost sleep and tiring dance performances. He doesn’t dare finish the thought that music was slowly starting to feel grey, his younger days of youth filled with passion falling behind somewhere he’s treaded. The only thing he’s been feeling nowadays is sadness. Nothingness. Blank, zero. It’s hard to describe especially when people ask why you look so down. Yoongi has decided to automatically say that he’s tired. They always believed him when he said that because most of the time, he was.

He hears voices of some staff who hasn’t left yet walk past his door. It doesn’t go unnoticed how his heart comes to life for a while when they’re near. It’s very unsettling and Yoongi has the urge to squish all the people he’s ever loved or still loves into one room. He wants to sit in the middle of them all so that he feels okay.

But that’s something absolutely unachievable. He wants to call his mother, talk to her about anything just so he could hear her voice, but she’s getting older and Yoongi doesn’t forget that his mother needs all her rest.

He shuts down the computer and turns off all of his equipment. Yoongi never leaves the studio if he’s still in there past midnight. Everyone knows that. He’s surprised that his body decided against his mind to return. He doesn’t fight it, the desire to see s flooding through his bloodstream. He wants to feel alive, healthy.

On his way out of the building, he’s calling a taxi with one hand holding his cellphone and the other returning to beat against his chest as if it could jumpstart his heart again. It’s useless because even after waiting almost half an hour for the taxi to arrive he hasn’t been able to make it feel like it’s real. His body feels like plastic, but real at the same time.

He realizes it feels better when he’s looking through the pictures of those close to him in his phone. On a whim, he changes the screensaver to a group photo of Bangtan and his home screen to his family. It gives some sort of relief because he was able to lie to himself that by doing so, he was literally carrying them with him. That he isn’t alone.

He’s nearing the dorms but he still ends up calling Seokjin after realizing that he doesn’t have his keys. Surprisingly, Seokjin picks up right away.

“Yoongi? Whats up?”

“Hyung? I’m almost home. Can you open up for me when I knock?” Yoongi almost pauses at the word home and tries to pick up the fallen pieces of whatever was left of his walls. Everything feels like it’s crumbling and he doesn’t know why either.

“Yeah, we’re all still up. We slept through the long plane ride so we’re not tired.”

In that second, Yoongi panics because it sounds like Seokjin is going to hang up, with a couple of screeches in the background. Yoongi feels like he’s going to die if this lifeline gets cut.

“Hyung, wait!” He catches the taxi driver’s glance through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah? Is something wrong?”

The background screeches come to a halt and Yoongi hears worried voices behind Seokjin’s. His heart constricts and even though it doesn’t feel good at all, he’s glad because it's the first thing that feels so real.

“Just...talk to me until I get back...get back home.” He closes his eyes and clutches his heart. The taxi driver seems to drive faster at that.

There’s a silence across the line. “What do you want to eat? Earlier Jimin and I made some homemade pizza. He was so cute trying to figure out how to cut the vegetables. Namjoon tried to help too but you know how he is. He broke the cutting board.”

Yoongi is listening to Seokjin blabber on, hearing Jimin and Taehyung chime in every now and then. The more voices he hears, the stronger the desire is to return. The taxi stops and he pays the fare, thanking the driver before running as fast as he could. He’s in the elevator and finally realizes he’s been on speaker the whole time when Namjoon and Jimin yells at Jungkook to open the door.

“I know, I heard, geez.” Jungkook’s voice gets harder to hear as he walks away from the phone. Yoongi waits patiently inside the elevator.

It starts to feel suffocating when he begins to lose connection. He feels like he can’t breathe when his phone abruptly ends the call while Jimin was in the middle of talking about his experience making pizza. He doesn’t care any longer about what he’s supposed to be and how he’s supposed to act.

How was he supposed to continue being Min Yoongi when he doesn’t feel like he’s Min Yoongi? How was he supposed to act indifferent when he feels like he’s stuck in a painful cycle of dying, dead, and feeling absolutely nothing?!

Tears of frustration pricks at his eyes, chest heaving and seeing Jungkook and Taehyung dancing quietly and crazily in the middle of their hall with a pair of sandals thrown from inside the dorm at them causes him to choke up. He’s walking slowly because everything's a blur. Yoongi feels stuck, he feels terrible and nothing feels like it used to. The two notices him and they become still.

“Seokjin-hyung! Come!” shouts Jungkook.

Yoongi makes it to the door, past the two even though he wants nothing more than to touch them to make sure they were real. He pushes past the kitchen counter and into the center of the living room where Hoseok and Jimin are frozen amidst a tickle war. Namjoon and Seokjin rush out of the kitchen, doors are closing and Yoongi has fallen to his knees, pathetically curled into himself.

He’s crying so hard he can’t breathe. A hand comes to his back and he hears Jimin sniffling. Jimin’s always been emotional and caring.

Yoongi doesn’t want to think anymore. He just wants to feel. He wants to feel alright and not so dark.

He latches onto Jimin and buries his head into his chest, crying. Jimin’s arms wrap gently but tightly around his shaking shoulders and he starts to feel slightly safer from his thoughts. He only hears his muffled voice, everything silent around him. He knows all of the members are confused, heck he himself was confused.

“Hyung, did something happen?” asks Namjoon carefully.

It because nothing happened. Nothing happened, and that was probably the right reason why. There was nothing.

“Did we do something?” asks Namjoon again.

Yoongi shakes his head furiously, finally lifting his head up and reaching for Namjoon’s hands. Everyone is confused and their eyes are glistening. “I...something is wrong with me.”

The look on Seokjin’s face almost screams bloody murder, one of his hands coming up immediately to check the temperature of his cheeks and forehead. “Are you sick? What’s wrong? Did someone say or do something?!”

At this proposition, Hoseok sits up straight, their faces becoming angry and defensive.

Yoongi shakes his head again and doesn’t know how to tell them without seeming ridiculous that he feels terribly ing depressed and he doesn’t know why.

“I’m scared of myself. I feel so lonely. I feel dead, and I’m scared. I miss you all.”

He hides himself back into Jimin’s chest and he can hear the breath of relief that Hoseok lets out. A second after, someone’s chest is pressed against his back and suddenly he’s enveloped in warmth from all sides.

“We’re here for you Hyung. Use us, talk to us. We will doour best,” speaks Taehyung. Yoongi can hear the soft whimpers that he can’t hold in and Yoongi tries his best to pick himself back up.

Its funny too, because all of a sudden he feels himself being rejuvenated. He is reminded of the image of a wilted flower slowly springing back to life after being watered in one of those children cartoons that plays on sunday mornings, when they’re all too lazy and tired to change the channel.

He’s gathering himself together, slowly feeling full of everything. Scared, lost, adventurous, confused, light, concerned, embarrassed, thankful, happy. All the books in the library of his mind has fallen and opened to a random page, decorating the darkness. There are lights turning back on and he feels alive.

His sobs are stopping, only small hiccups that jolt his body every few seconds left behind. He feels the cool air again once bodies leave his except he rests in Jimin’s embrace, too exhausted and dizzy with the return of emotions. The members wait expectantly for him and he looks down in slight shame for having worried them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know-”

“Don’t be sorry,” interjects Seokjin. “Don’t ever be sorry for needing us. We will never shame you for needing us.”

Yoongi’s eyes sting and he’s clutching his beating heart. He feels alright now, and he wants pizza. His whole internal struggle gone with the darkness outside and with purpose, he thanks them quietly again and again until he’s being violated with tickles from the three youngest. He’s laughing and sprawled on his back, scrunching his stomach inward as he threatened them with punches. He pleads for Namjoon and Hoseok to help, but Hoseok only helps the three youngest in tickling and Namjoon is off helping Seokjin get food for him.

“I love you Yoongi-hyung!” exclaims Jimin. His eyes are gone, bent into crescent slits.

“I love you!” echoes the other three in unison.

There’s loud laughter even though it was terribly late and Yoongi fears the return of the darkness when he isn’t prepared but soon forgets it when four bodies are laying on top of him.

“I love you too Yoongi!” shouts Seokjin from the kitchen.

There’s a sound of skin slapping that follows with Namjoon’s offended ‘ow’.

“I love you too, hyung,” comes Namjoon’s reluctant voice.

His gums show while he is smiling, staring at the ceiling. He misses the endearing and caring looks from his dongsaengs as he rubs his eyes to prevent another onslaught of tears.

He feels like Min Yoongi again.