We only met at the convenience store for the first two months. We ate dinner together nearly every night, and to be honest I looked forward to our dinners so much that I often arrived early and got anxious if she was late. By the third month, we texted each other often and I would drop everything to answer her texts. The first time I went over to her place, it was to help fix her jammed window. She had called maintenance many times but they never actually came. I immediately said I would fix it, and it was with a bit of amusment that she said I could come over and give it a try tomorrow afternoon.

Originally I had plans with Hobie, but I told him I was busy. Suran's apartment was messy – messier than my room. Clothes were all over, and boxes and bags in whatever space there was. I was a bit taken aback, because she seemed like someone who liked to have everything neat. That day, not only did I fix her window, but I also convinced her we should clean. I got to be there for hours and it was so fun, I didn't care that it was dusty and messy, because I was becoming closer with her.

Days blurred together, the only reason why Yoongi knew what day of the week it was and the date was because he wrote his diary. They marked the passage of time and everything just became a waiting game for him. Waiting to get better. Waiting for a sign from Suran that she was coming back, anything.

Nothing really mattered to him anymore, and he grew increasingly angry at his mother and Hobie's denial of Suran's existence. The more they denied, the more he insisted. But one day, when he returned from physio therapy and was getting back in bed, his mother said, "Yoongi... your moodswings are getting bad again and... we think you could use some help."

He didn't know why he became so angry. It just burst out, like an ugly monster.

"NO!" Yoongi screamed, flinging his crutches to the ground. "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, GOD DAMN IT!"

"Honey, you need help, I-" Mrs Min tried to say.

"I DON'T NEED IT! I don't need some stranger-"

"It's not a stranger, it's a doctor," Mrs Min reminded him. "It's their job. The doctor reccomended you see a psychiatrist-"

"I WON'T!" This scene took Yoongi back that year Yoona had died... his mother had taken him for therapy where he had been dissected and studied, his mother heaping complaints on his shoulders. He didn't eat. He hit his little brother. He didn't study. He bunked school. He had anger issues and often hit some boys at school. The teachers didn't know what to do with him and recommended her to take him to see a child therapist. That time, Yoongi had been screaming that he wouldn't go, and had been carried bodily to the car, kicking and screaming the whole way.

Yoongi hated people. He hated people stuck their noses into others' business even more.

"I won't go," he said again, his mouth set in a stubborn line. "I swear, if you try to make me-"

He flinched as Mrs Min reached out, but she just touched his face. "Yoongi," she whispered. "I... I only want you to be happy..."

"I think I want that too."

"This obsession with that girl, it's not healthy-"

"IT'S NOT AN OBSESSION!!"

"She does not exist!" Mrs Min said firmly.

"She does!" Yoongi pointed to the music box on his bedside table. "Where do you think that came from?"

Mrs Min looked as though she were about to say something, but the look in his angry and determined face made her think differently. Instead, her eyes filled with t