Point of view: Yoongi AKA Suga

Word Count: 2073

My runners scratch against the concrete as I bounce the worn ball from hand to hand. With a mind made of nothing and an old basketball, I shoot baskets over and over again. Each time it goes in, my sprit lifts higher and every time it bounces off and out of the court, my heart drops once more. Eventually, the ball bounces far enough off the court that I just slide to my knees and fall back to sit on the cooling court.

I pull my knees up to rest my head on them, breathing hard with my intense work out. My bangs are plastered to my forehead as sweat runs down my checks to drip on the ground. Throwing myself back, I fall onto my back and watch the thunderclouds make their way across the sky to block out the rising moon. It’s going to rain. Even as the clouds continue their menacing march, I almost appreciate the company.

Hearing a familiar bounce of a ball, my head turns to the side to see the basket ball bouncing lopsidedly towards me. I blink in slow confusion, wondering who sent it towards me. “Hi.” A small, hesitant voice moves out from the shadows, “I’m assuming this is yours.”

I don’t say anything but instead pull myself back up into a sitting position as her features become more visible in the dim streetlights. Her long hair bounces healthily; her white skin glows softly and her tiny frame moves nervously. “Thanks.” I recognize her. I haven’t forgotten her since we met but she’s been so eluding that I haven’t been able to find her.

“Sorry.” She comes even closer, stopping a few feet away. Her hands are linked in front of her, fidgeting slightly. Her eyes glint with the bits of light that are hitting her face. “Um.”

“What are you sorry for?” I say, pulling myself slowly up to stand facing her.

“Well,” She trails off, unsure of how to continue her apology, “You know, for, just running off like that.”

I step towards her causing her to take a step back, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” My voice is almost pleading so I close my mouth and gulp angrily, trying to calm myself. I finally come face to face with her but it’s an apologetic atmosphere. Definitely not what I imagined my soulmate encounter to be like.

“It’s not about you, honestly.” Trix runs a hand through her hair, the waves scattering in her fingers.

Again, I move towards her and this time I see her forcefully hold her ground. My lips twitch slightly into a smirk before I push them back down to a straight face. Trix shuffles her feet as I continue to close the gap in between us as if she’s fighting against herself to stay in that spot. Finally, I stop barely a foot away, I place my hands in my big pockets, standing taller to look down at such a tiny girl, “Min Yoongi.”

She throws her head up in surprise, eyelashes fluttering, “Oh, um, Trix Dolteron.” At a last second thought she throws in another sentence, “Nice to meet you.”

Nodding, I turn and pick up the basketball. As I bounce it, I have to hide my contentment at the situation. Without looking at her, I can still Trix’s unsure aura slumping around the court. “So how did you find me?”

“I didn’t.” She moves closer towards a bench near the side of the court, probably feeling that to be a safer area. Before she can get too far, I toss the ball to her which causes a fumbling reaction from her.

“What do you mean?”

Trix begins bouncing it a little unsurely but begins to get the hang of it, moving towards the net a bit more. “I was walking by from a hip hop show that turned out to be boring as hell.” The balls exchanges hands a few times before she gives it a go and throws it at the net.

It hits off the rim.

Embarrassed, she turns to me with a smile, “Ahha, short people shouldn’t play basketball.”

“That’s not why you missed.” I throw the sentence over my shoulder as I run after the ball, a new set of energy floods threw me. “Your technique is off.”

“My technique?” She tilts her head as I move back onto centre court. Trix steps out of the way to let me have a clear shot but my heart begins to pound nervously as I think about trying to make this half-court luck move. A few more dribbles and the ball glides effortlessly through the basket. On the outside, I calmly run to pick up the stray ball but on the inside, my butterflies bounce off my heart in excitement. When I turn back to her, she’s moved to sit on the park bench at the side of the court, not with me but at least she’s not running away. I fidget the ball side to side while walking over to her as thunder begins a lazy entrance into the scene. “So, hip hop show?” I fall back beside her, careful not to sit too closely. She still shifts away.

“Yeah.”

“You like hip hop?”

“Yeah.”

“Who did you see?”

“ManDown featuring DEEP, it was pretty good but the lineup wasn’t set up properly.”

Finally, she speaks more than two words at a time. “I’ve heard DEEP is pretty good, though.”

“Yeah, I guess but I prefer styles like Talib Kweli, the Fuggees, a bit of Wutang and maybe some Lupe Fiasco.” Trix turns towards me a little, I see her getting more into the conversation. At least I now know that music is a safe topic between us two.

“Ehh, Lupe, my man!” I make a cheesy face while standing and almost forcing a bro hug with the tiny girl. At first, Trix is shocked at my sudden skin ship but she returns it playfully, a small smile dancing on her lips all the while. As I sit next to her again, my breathing has begun to slow and the cold is quickly becoming more and more noticeable.

We sit back down in unison, I’m hoping she’s not caught on to my fidgeting. “Oh, yeah.” Trix reaches into her mini backpack with a small Mickey Mouse symbol on it. Her hands fumble for a moment, she’s shaking either from the oncoming cold or emotional enlightenment (I hope it’s the later).  She holds out a bottle of water, just a regular found-at-any-convenience-store kind of drink but I take it as if it was a crown given by a princess.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The air around us grows heavier with the promise of rain and, sure enough, we continue in silence as drops begin to fall around us. She sneezes.

“I can’t be out in the cold too long, I’ll get really sick!” For the first time in a while, she shows a little more emotion than nervousness. Her thin but glossy lips purse together to form a pondering face, “Too bad, too. I love the rain.”

Yes. She talks about herself, finally! “You do?” I turn to her, not really caring about the drops that run into my eyes, “But it makes everything wet and cold.”

“But it’s pretty and when you’re inside with cupped ramen and a good friend, the thunder just seems like the bass of a good soundtrack.”

I nod my head in agreement, “That’s true…” My eyes look over her little brunette head to see a convenience store’s lights burning brightly in the grayed scene. “Alright, so you’ve got a friend.” I point to myself, “and you got the rain so,” her eyebrows go up when she gets where I’m going with this. “Let’s go.” We stand in unison, both grabbing our belongings before hurriedly jogging to the safety of the family-owned store. Making sure to hold the door open for her, I let myself smile triumphantly at having the opportunity to talk to her again.

The sound of thunder and rain sings melodically in the background as we both settle in with our chosen flavours of cheap, cupped ramen. I split the chopsticks and settle in. Blowing on the steaming food, I glance over to Trix who has is still struggling pulling apart the wooden chopsticks. I reach over and pluck them from her hands before expertly taking them apart and giving it back to her. “Thanks.” She mumbles, defeated by cheap wooden sticks. Her pouting face is too cute.

“Tell me about yourself.” I say, turning to her, “Since you’re an A.R.M.Y that must mean you know everything about me, right?”

She takes a moment to gather a mouthful, “What do you want to know?” Her blue eyes, now seemingly grey, watch the rain race down the foggy window. “You get three, for now.”

“How old are you?”

“That’s the big question?”

I shrug.

Trix sighs, surprised at my simple question, “I recently turned 19.”

“International age?”

“Yeah, man.”

Satisfied, I take a moment to eat. She’s not high maintenance, that’s for sure but it seems like she doesn’t want to rely on anyone except, come on, we’re Soulmates! “Alright, what do you do for a living? Or are you a student?”

“I work in an underground entertainment industry. I mainly train and work with people who aim to be idols or big shots.”

“So you’re their manager?”

“Hell no! I’m a producer! I also do a bit of performing on the side. Only rap though, I can’t sing for .”

I stop my eating and turn to her, “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

She shakes her curly locks, “Nah, man. I came here to work in the music industry. I wanted to be contracted by the bigger companies but those s think that just cause I’m 19 means I don’t know what to do.”

“Experience is good. This is just the beginning of your career, right? No need to rush it. You have a whole life time to inspire people and make good music.”

Trix doesn’t say anything to my advice but instead awkwardly shrugs.

My spirits feel as if they’ve been kicked, she’s been so cold to me. Is she disappointed? Maybe she was hoping another member was her Soulmate. She talked a long time with Taehyung, perhaps she wishes it is him. “Who’s your bias in BTS?”

“Not telling!” Her eyes have widened in surprise.

“Nuh uh you said you would answer three questions so answer this one!”

Biting her bottom lip, her eyebrows have scrunched together. Her hands fumble with each other, the thumbs nervously rubbing her wrist. “W-well.” Trix’s face has become a little flushed, is she getting sick? My face is neutral as I wait for her to respond. “Well, um, you, honestly. Ah…”

The corners of my lips flick up for a moment in satisfaction, “Who?”

“…you…”

“Who?”

She reaches over and embarrassedly pushes my shoulder, “Stop, you know what I said.”

My shoulders feel a little less burdened, so she’s only nervous because I’m her bias, haha. Her pink cased phone begins to buzz loudly on the table. At first she ignores it but then she gives me a I-need-to-get-this look and takes the call. She stands and turns away from me, her hair still slightly wet from the rain, has begun to get frizzy.

“Okay…again…seriously? Yeah sure I’ll come in…alright…see you in a bit.” Hanging up, she looks over her shoulder to me, “I-I have to go now, I’m sorry.”

Even though I’m disappointed, I give her a friendly tease, “What about my third question?”

As she’s putting on her jacket, the blue eyes have a different sparkle to them, “You’ll have to ask me later.” Trix stops at the door, she looks awfully tiny compared to the storm that has begun to rage outside. Her face isn’t disgusted at the sight or idea of walking in the rain.

It’s peaceful. It’s enlightened. Her face tells me a thousand stories of what she’s done to be standing there. Her eyes reflect the lightning and, as if she’s a part of the storm, she steps out into it.

She begins to run in the rain, that girl never seems to walk. She’s always running from someone or something. Whatever she’s trying to outrun, all I know is, is that I want to run with her.