As he silently watches the ever-changing warm hues across the sky, his head is filled with thoughts about the wonders of the world, how the earth turns from the sun, letting the darkness of the vast universe swallow the city whole; but doing so in the most gentle of ways, aided by tinkling stars, their existence no longer obstructed by the giant flaming ball of combusting elements, instead masked by the flick of a switch, heavy light pollution preventing us from truths the night is too eager to reveal.
     Perched up in the 6^th floor of an old building, a gentle breeze draws a sharp inhale from a body bent over a small balcony, as if the boy had forgotten to breathe and was given a gentle reminder. The boy could only wish to forget.
     The sky turns dark and cold but Yoongi rests unmoved, eyes never leaving the sky but still not comprehending how everything seems to change so fast while his existence is slow and stale, the colours of the sky the only contrast in the repetitive nature of everyday life. However even his sky gazing can’t escape the dooming loop, already marked as daily occurrence as he always finds himself transfixed by the charms of the world. But too addicted to the human confinement, to its fragility and the feeling of being broken only to be put back together and wounded tightly, to ever be a part of that ethereal beauty.
     Yoongi lets out a loud exhale, almost a laugh but not quite, tinged by tones of self-deprecation “Could I be more cliché”. He reaches out with cold hands into the pockets of his thin fabric shorts, roughly cut out from old sweatpants to adapt to Seoul’s hot summer weather, in search of his matte black lighter as he remembers the toxic stick still held gently between his long pale fingers, almost forgotten. A flick of the wheel and warm is momentarily trapped between his hands and his face as one hand cups the other protecting the flame from the gentle breeze and lighting the cigarette nestled between thin chapped lips. “Guess I can huh” and another laugh escapes, this time almost amused but hidden behind smoke.

     A loud ringing stirs Yoongi’s aching body awake and a groan escapes his lips. Opening his eyes to grey walls and grey ceilings, bare of any individuality, makes it too tempting to fall back into the darkness and temporary bliss; sleep the closest to halting his existence in the realm of the living. Regardless his arm reaches out to the nightstand on the left side of his also grey bed hastily swiping right on the broken screen’s phone before he can decide against it

  “Yoongi I have good news” the loudness of the voice that echoes through his phone makes him regret his decision “Yoongi are you even there? I think I can hear your stuffy nose breathing”.

  He becomes aware of his loud disgruntled exhales “My nose isn’t stuffy… I was just gathering the energy to reply something coherent”.

  “Were you up late producing again? It’s noon and your voice sounds impossible hoarse, you either just woke up or have been some ” his friend chuckles.

  At that Yoongi chokes, not expecting to hear such crude words first thing waking up “Yah Hoseok, respect your hyung and tell me your supposed good news before I hang up on you” he raises his voice but still sounds impossible weak with how it has barely warmed up from sleep.

  “Okay okay, I’m sorry Yoongi …hyung” he adds reluctantly, almost mocking “I’m actually about to make your day, so listen up! The job is yours!” he exclaims in a celebratory manner.

  Yoongi can almost hear the exploding confetti laced in his friends’ voice and he sighs “You’re making it out as if I won the lottery and not a job as a temporary waiter at some coffee shop”.

  Hoseok huffs “I don’t mean to push any capitalistic agenda here, but money is money and you’re in need of it. Besides you get to work in a familiar environment and get the best free coffee in the area and most importantly you get to have the best co worker. Me.” he emphasises that last part, grin audible through the phone.

  His friend is right and Yoongi shouldn’t be complaining when he was the one to ask a word be put in for him to get the vacancy. Taking a gap year after high school with no plans besides producing tracks that don’t sell and chasing a ghost of a dream he isn’t naïve enough to believe in anymore, has shown to be nothing but wearing, draining to the point of leaving behind only a shell of a boy that once did believe. And money is money. “No, you’re right. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay rent this month I should be thanking you”.

  Hoseok’s voice softens at his words “You know my place is always available right? You don’t have to keep spending so much money on that ty apartment. Seoul is crazy expensive”.

  But Yoongi jumps in to refuse immediately “As much as I appreciate the offer I don’t wanna be sleeping on your couch” and adds for emphasis “paid by your parents at that. I’ll make it work, somehow always do” he pauses, doubting his own words but too automated to maintain his assertive and put together exterior to ever let any worries slip out so easily “Anyway, text me the details of my shifts and we’ll talk later okay?”.
  Without waiting for a reply Yoongi goes to turn off the call, catching only a gentle reminder to take care and maybe quit his stupid habit of smoking if he really wants to save up on money before the room turns back to being dead silent. He muses over how it parallels with his own self and the irony hidden in his passion for music when he doesn’t even hear the soft rhythmic and calculated thumps of his own working heart anymore but shakes it off in favour of getting his sore body to move to the bathroom to release himself.

     As dusk approaches Yoongi isn’t, for once, with his elbows pressed against the edges of a worn out balcony; this time straining only his head to keep his eyes fixed on the sky as he walks down the street, looking to buy a new pack of cigarettes he knows he doesn’t need and can’t afford, however not risking missing out on any wonders the world has for him today. The sun stretches out its last rays that overlook Seoul city and disappears behind concrete high walls of corporate massive buildings that already obstruct the view of the city and now have the sun itself surrender, leaving behind only a memory of faint traces of colour to remind everyone of its burning existence.
     As Yoongi traces a particular ray reflected on the windows of one of the buildings he finds his neck no longer straining as he lies flat on the ground eyes wide from the impact he suffered. He faintly hears a gasp and feels a gentle hand on his own. He focuses his eyes on the face hovering above his and he thinks that for once the sun has won. Displaying in all its glory as it emerges from behind the looming structures in the form of a brown haired boy that seems to have stolen all the last rays before they ever get to be enveloped by darkness.

  “I am so sorry! I was looking at the ground and clearly didn’t see where I was going and I am so sorry. Are you okay?” the voice is strained, anxious but somehow still soft and Yoongi is unable to do much but blink harshly, maybe blinded in the presence of the sun itself or due to the concussion he might be suffering from. “Can you stand up do you need anything should I call someone?” the words come out rushed as one big question and Yoongi can barely make them out before he finally snaps out of his daze, suddenly startled.

  “” he quickly raises himself up “I’m fine kid. I wasn’t exactly looking ahead myself” he pauses and notices the unsettled look on the boy’s face, his brows slightly furrowed cheeks a bit puffed out, although Yoongi suspects they always retain that chubbiness, the baby fat on them a clear indicator that the boy is younger than him by at least a couple of years. “I mean it, okay? Don’t worry, just watch where you’re going next time” he says as he starts stepping away in the direction of the convenience store he was originally heading to. A glance back shows the boy bowing to him before politely going his way as well.

     Yoongi can’t help but a stare for a few more prolonged seconds at the boy who reincarnated the sun.