The longest I’ve ever written in my life lmao. Based on Save Me (BTS) and Because I’m a Girl (KISS). 

You should also listen to Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion ‘cause I used that song as well. Hope you like it though ^^ 

Also there may or may not be like one sentence hinting suicidal thoughts, so watch out for that.

Hope | hōp | noun | a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

Jung Hoseok had his life laid out for him already. He was exceptional, extraordinary, talented, especially when it came to dancing. At school, though he may not have been top of the class, he was very well known as a dancer and the sunshine that everyone could look to for a smile to brighten their day.

He was certainly popular, though he only stuck to a group of friends that he danced with.

Hoseok was just a fun person, according to everyone, comfortable to be around. If one were to be in the worst mood ever, he seemed to always be able to make them crack a smile and even breathe the tiniest of chuckles.

That’s what you heard, being the secluded part of your school that barely mingled with people outside of your few close friends.

You’d heard rumors that his smile was blinding, so bright and beaming it could rival the sun. You’d heard he seemed like a great friend, nice and caring, kind to those he’s never spoken to. But in this school, everyone has probably had a run in with the Jung Hoseok. He’s always bounding down the halls tall and confident with that wide smile stretched across his face, greeting others with an upbeat “hello”.

What do you know though, you were perhaps the only person who has never seen his smile up close, only from afar. But even then, from afar you can feel the intensity of his pearly whites gleaming so brightly.

There was never a time that you’d ever seen Hoseok sad or depressed, he was always seen smiling, well maybe not during class, but he was never upset. Maybe he’d get upset with his friends, but he never seemed to have any problems with his life.

Aren’t the saddest people the one’s who will smile the brightest? Isn’t it because they don’t want to see other people suffer, to be down?

You wonder how broken Hoseok actually is, if maybe he’s putting up a rather heavy facade this whole entire time. People have come to rely on him to make their day better that maybe he’s come to the conclusion that he must never be upset, or else he’d let everyone down.

You wonder if one day, his smile will turn crooked, melancholy, and morph into wretched sadness that turns his smile upside down into a frown. You wonder if one day his eyes will water with pure grief and sadness instead of the tears that mark his cheeks because his group of friends played a prank on him.

And that day was soon to come.

It was apparent that Hoseok was talented at dancing, apparently being a big fan of hip hop. You’d never seen it up close or in person, only through the glass screen of your friend’s phone, a video of him dancing solo in one of your school’s dance studios. He was superb you admitted.

His face seemed so content, so full of passion and happiness, as his body moved fluidly and sharply to the music. He was full of life.

One day, it’d all gone downhill.

No one knows what happened. But it did, and now Jung Hoseok had to pay the consequences of whatever had happened.

He lost his eyesight. For whatever reason even he himself had no idea of, his world had gone pitch black and he was thrown into darkness.

You’d overheard his friends talk forlornly about how he no longer smiled that bright toothy grin, he no longer laughed, he no longer looked radiant with life. They said he shut them out, ever since he was out of the hospital he stayed locked up inside his room.

Without sight, he’d lost hope in dancing, he’d lost hope in everything.

Students at your school lost who they seemed to call their hope and were saddened by the absence of the energetic character named Jung Hoseok.

Whispering had died down about his ordeal and people just went on with their school lives. You didn’t think you’d have anything to do with it until one day a commotion was created when Kim Seokjin had broken down into a fit, claiming that Jung Hoseok ran away and hadn’t returned home yet.

How exactly, is what you want to know. Did he have some sort of assistance dog to aid his escape? Did his muscle memory take him to a familiar place where he could find solace and isolation?

One day, you found him in the dance studio at your school, a leash gripped in his hand that connected to the harness of a rather gorgeous golden retriever that confidently wore a blue vest signifying it to be a guide dog. School was already over, students long gone and the janitors out and about cleaning the classrooms and hallways.

You’d found him walking along the perimeter of the studio, his fingers sliding across the mirrors that lined the walls. He was dressed in normal clothing rather than the school’s designated uniform, his dark hair covered with a snapback.

“Jung Hoseok?” you finally asked, breaking the silence, save for the squeak of his shoes slowly moving across the sleek wooden flooring.

He didn’t stop, not breathing a noise of acknowledgement as he felt the dog lead him away from a corner.

“Jung Hoseok,” you called louder, slightly annoyed with his ignorance. You moved to block his path, but he tugged on the dog to move passed you. In that split moment, you’d caught a glimpse of his eyes.

His brown orbs are devoid of emotion, staring blankly ahead with an indifferent expression on his face. They appeared dead, tired and broken. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him up close, and you can admit he’s quite good looking. However, you wonder just how beautiful he’d look even more if he had that ever famous smile the girls in the restroom fawn over.

Before he can move away, you grab his wrist to stop him but he violently yanks himself out of your grip. His eyebrows furrow and he frowns at you, though he estimates your height and glares at the area just above your head.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, completely not expecting him to respond with even the smallest of grunts, “Your friends are worried you know, you kind of disappeared.”

He doesn’t answer like expected. Eventually you give up trying to converse with the boy and leave him to drown in his thoughts.

As much as you don’t see the use of trying to get through to him, you find yourself staying more after school to talk to him. He never conversed back, but you always told him of the troubled thoughts of his friends. You introduced yourself to him, seeing it fit that you weren’t a total stranger to him if you did.

Maybe you just pity his situation and his friends, there was no reason for you to be returning to the dance room everyday, but it becomes your routine and it seems to become his as well. He starts to expect your arrival more, instead of walking about he sits there and waits for you to sit a little distance beside him and give your usual report of the day’s happenings. Sometimes he’ll grunt, but no words are spoken on his behalf.

“Everyone is worried..” you start off one day with a sad smile, not like he’d be able to see it, “I may have not talked to you while you were still able to see.. But I’m also worried.”

Perhaps his voice is hoarse from being mute for so long, but he speaks up, “Don’t pity me, I don’t need it.”

His retriever nudges at your leg, seeking out the affection of your hand that soon caresses its golden fur.

“You’re only here because you pity me, that’s why you stick around,” he sighs, voice shaky as he continues with his head lowered, “My life is ruined now.”

“No it’s not-”

You stop when you hear the tiniest of sobs coming from him, your eyes instantly finding his trembling form to see the tiny crystals rolling down his cheeks. This was it. Jung Hoseok in his most vulnerable state, broken and upset, not like the one that’s smiling the brightest and telling a cringe-worthy joke.

“It’s not,” you repeat, placing your hand on his shoulder, “At least you’re still alive.”

The muscles underneath tense at your touch, but he continues to cry even leaning more towards you. Eventually, your hand moves to rub his back, a gesture he finds kind and endearing as his sobbing and trembles seem to calm down.

“Do they know that I’m always here after everyone’s gone?”

“Nope,” you answer lightly, sitting back against the wall, “No one knows, except me and your little retriever here.”

“Hope.”

You blink, looking over at him but he bends to place his head on your shoulder, dark hair falling over to cover his face.

“His name is Hope,” he says, laughing bitterly, “Pitiful isn’t it? They used to call me J-Hope, I was always the happiest out of everyone, and now look at me.. No hope at all.”

“I think it fits him,” you whisper, your fingers combing through the fur of the canine.

You wonder if you’ve made any progress with Hoseok. He’s at least speaking to you. Sometimes, maybe reluctantly, he throws in the towel and ashamedly requests that you pet his head or maybe let him hold your hand if he’s that needy. You don’t refuse, smiling gently and silently running your digits through his silky dark hair or letting his fingers search out your own and tangle in a mess of digits without question.

Who’d have thought that you would cross paths with the ever popular Jung Hoseok when he was in his most broken and fragile state? Now you wonder just how amazing his smile would look, but that’s wishful thinking with his situation.

“How good are you at dancing?” you ask one day, his head resting on your shoulder and your hand gently petting his head. At your feet the retriever rested, curled up and most likely snoring away in dreamland.

You wonder if it was a sensitive spot to rub, silence falling over you both.

“I would show you.. But as you can see I can't.”

“You can,” you interrupt.

“I can't!” He snaps all of a sudden, his head has risen off your shoulder as he turns to glare at you but his gaze is off and he's squinting at your neck, “I’m done for (y/n), I can't do it.”

“You can't because you haven't tried,” you whisper, reaching out to let your fingers run over his hand and grab his wrist. You pull him up and lead him to the center of the dance studio. Your hand leaves his as you move away from him to start up the stereo.

“(Y/n)?” He asks worriedly, hands groping at the air in hopes of finding you. He turns his head frantically, not like he’d be able to see you in the night that forever darkens his world.

The beat starts as soon as you press play and he shuts up, his arms falling limp to lay at his sides. He can picture it, himself, standing in the center of the dance studio staring intently into the mirror at his reflection.

His voice comes out cracked but still sharp with warning as he grits out your name.

“Dance Hoseok.”

He doesn't. It’ll take some coaxing but you know he'll end up giving in. He does when you grab hold of his hands and start waving his arms around wildly.

“That's not how you dance,” he whines, “You're gonna break my arms!”

You smile softly as he peels your hands off of him and cautiously backs away.

“If that's not how you dance then show me,” you challenge, noticing how his eyes narrow at you, or at least at the space beside you.

You wonder if he's just going to back down like the othe