My chest aches as I slip into a bathroom stall. I feel it tighten as my heart races. I find it hard to even breath, almost to the point of gasping for air. I lean against the door to steady myself as I shake. I know this feeling too well, I’m panicking. There isn’t anything I can even do about it. I’m being held hostage by my own mind. My mind is racing as I continue to work myself up.

I try the breathing exercises that I’m supposed to try when I’m like this, the ones I practice when I’m calm. They work a little, but as I’ve found, they still can only do so much. I clamp my eyes shut and try to block out the thoughts that keep springing to mind. I try to ignore them as I concentrate on my breathing. I keep count as I breathe, and hold the breath, as I slowly release it.

One, two three, one, two, three, one, two, three.

I’m eventually able to open my eyes, the thoughts stop bombarding me, and I have control again. I feel drained from the ordeal. I check my phone, biting my lip I sigh. Thirty minutes gone. Straightening my clothes I leave the stall I’ve occupied and wash my hands, leaving the bathroom I glance down at my phone, a missed call from my best friend and several texts.

Reading through them I see that I’ve annoyed him.I hardly pay them any attention as I continue on. I quickly find myself at his door. Knocking three times I hear the locks clicking and the door being open hesitantly.

“Hyung is in a foul mood, are you sure you want to be here?” Jungkook says slightly annoyed. “He’s been whining.”

I chuckle as I step inside. “He’s just pissed I’m late.” I say as I slip my shoes off and set my bag down by them. I quickly find Yoongi, as Jungkook had said, grumpy.  “When are you going to stop whining?” I say with a smirk to my old friend. “It’s pretty bad that I’m getting warned as soon as they answer the door.” I tease my friend.

“When you can be on time.” Yoongi fires back cooly. “And I’m not whining.” He says indignantly. I roll my eyes as I plop down on his bed, watching as he plays a game on his laptop. “Who said you could sit on my bed?” He says without looking back at me, then  quickly turning his attention back to his game.

“Me.” I answer back with the same attitude. “I thought you didn’t like that game?” I question as he continues to play.

“I got bored waiting for you.” He answers simply. “What took you so long?” He questions annoyedly as he finishes and turns to face me from his desk.

I consider telling him the truth, I’ve been suffering from panic attacks, but decide against it. “I lost track of time while doing my homework.” I answer instead. “Not all of us are famous.” I tease. Yoongi rolls his eyes. I know he prefers for me not to mention his status. I watch as he fidgets with his hair. “Anyways, why did you want me to come over?” I ask as lean back onto his bed.

“I wanted to see you.” He says again very cooly. “How are your classes?”

I frown, trying to think of an answer. “Long I guess, too many lectures?” I answer questioning my own answer. “I got asked to join this study group.”

“You hate groups.” Yoongi says knowingly. “How are you going to get out of that?” I let out a long sigh, “You have no idea.” He says answering his own question. “You should just be forward and tell them you don’t like to hang out like that.”

“It’s that one guy that’s always asking me to do stuff.” I say irked thinking about the guy that’s been pestering me. “I don’t get how he can’t just take a hint.” Sitting up I watch Yoongi, his dyed hair looking a bit messy. I’m suddenly reminded of my crush I used to have on him when we were kids. He always seemed so cool to me growing up. Yoongi and I are close in age, our parents made us play together. I thought he was completely adorable and extremely cool, I had a crush on him. He treated me like I didn’t exist since I was a girl and was kind of mean to me growing up. After a while I started being mean back, and we became close. I got over my crush and we became like we are now.

“Tell him to just leave you alone. You’re too nice to people sometimes. He bothers you too much, even I can tell.” Yoongi says plainly. Standing up he watches me and nods his head towards the door. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

Getting up I follow my friend to the door, I slip my shoes on, grabbing my bag I follow silently behind my friend. Yoongi fidgets with his hat, glancing back and me he motions for me to walk with him. “You know I hate that.” He mumbles as he walks a little slower to match my pace. “You walk too slowly.” He says as he continues to grumble about the weather and everything else that annoys him.

As we finally arrive at a restaurant of his choosing we take a seat in the back away from the windows. Yoongi orders without looking at his menu and for me. I nod my head along with the music that they’re playing. “You’re quiet.” Yoongi says after a while. “We finally get to see each other and you aren’t going to talk to me?”

“Sorry, I’m just really hungry.” I lie. I can’t tell him that it is taking everything in me not to run to the bathroom and yank on my hair.  Besides, it isn’t like I can just explain what I’m going through. It’s against my rules. I absolutely can’t talk to him about this, not when my best friend already has so much on his own plate.

“You seem not so good lately.” He says bluntly. “Are you sure? You’re not pushing yourself too hard, right?” He presses, his faces crinkles into a concerned look. “Byul?”

A small sigh escapes and it causes Yoongi to frown. “I’m fine, it’s just all my classes, papers, projects, and studying. Kind of hard to catch my breath with it all.” I say, while it is partly true, it isn’t necessarily the truth. “Really, I’m alright.” This however, is a lie. I'm not alright, but I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want him to notice how messed up I am. I don’t want him to know the vicious thoughts that race through my mind, I don’t want him to know that I’m holding myself back. That the reason I gave up was because of me.

Long after my lunch with Yoongi I think about the lie. How I told him I was alright. I think about all the times I’ve told him that and it hasn’t been true. When did I become not ok? When did this all even start? What was the first drop of anxiety that started all this?

I'm a bit rusty and finding my voice again, but I'm enjoying writing.
So I've wanted to write a story for Yoongi for a long time.
I'm really excited to get the chance to write one for him!

Thank you my ducks!