smeraldo

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“It took at least 45 minutes after the soundcheck for the concert to actually start. Not that anyone was counting. My heart would skip a beat everytime the screen changed from the raindrops, but it was just merch commercials. I was expecting to see MVs while we waited, so I was a little bit frustrated, and after Natalie went to the front, I didn’t have anybody to talk to, and people around me were not the kindest, but that’s fine.”

“How was it when it started?” Your roommate asks.

“Ah! It was everything… All of the ARMY Bombs started to shine in orange and blue, it was so beautiful, then, there was a trigger warning. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this guy is so thoughtful. At that point it was obvious that it was going to start. And when it did, the whole rain ASMR made sense. He could be an actor if he wanted, the video intro? I was screaming so loud, you have no idea!”

“ I can hear it in your voice, _____ I wonder how you’re gonna teach today”

“That’s why I’m eating apples for breakfast, you know how they help your throat, that’s why teachers get apples from their students in cartoons”

“Okay, okay, how was it when he actually showed up?”

“ It may sound dramatic to you, but when I saw him again after the soundcheck, was like all of the colors around me were brighter, and my poor heart…I could’ve died, my whole body felt like I had a fever all the time he was on the stage, I feel a little bit guilty to say that, but it felt like he was the only man for me, which is totally weird, but I really felt like that, and he looked so good. But when he started to sing, seriously, it was everything, he started with Haegum and Daechwita!!! Do you have any idea of how close to dying I was?!  Then he said he wanted to tell his story with less anger??? Why would he say that?!”

“Isn’t it a good thing?”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “ It made my heart swell, I wanted to hug him so bad, seriously, he sang People and SDL twice in front of me, then he said that, I swear.  I won’t even talk about the stunt he played with Seesaw.”

“Alright, I won’t even ask”

“He played the fucking guitar in front of little old me!” You say “ I don’t know how I didn’t cry. I kept thinking about it as he was in front of me, like how was I not crying, Cami?! He was singing in front of me and was on my side of the stage multiple times, I can’t believe I was so lucky to live that, but I was not crying! How’s that possible? I usually cry a lot about everything.”

“You were feeling all of the other stuff too, maybe you were just overwhelmed, it happens… You don’t need to cry in a show just because everyone says it’s what you have to do, that doesn’t make you any less of a fan, you know that, right?

“ I know, but I actually felt like crying, I just couldn’t… He is such an artist.”

“He sure left an English teacher without words. What kind of description is that?”

“You know when you see someone so good at what they do that you can’t stop looking at them? They captivate you in such a way that you can’t take your eyes off of them because they do it so beautifully and it’s so special? I wasn’t expecting it to be like that, and the fact that I keep dreaming about having conversations with him doesn’t help, you know!? Yesterday felt like one of my dreams, and it makes me feel good in a certain way, but it also makes me feel like I’m going crazy, because it feels so real but it’s all in my head.”

 “You should look into these dreams, ______. There must be people that could help you with that.” Your roommate says, getting up from the table and taking her coffee mug to the sink.

“If I say it out loud to anyone but you, I’ll have to admit that these dreams are more than what they are, and they aren’t, I’m just a fan that might be slightly obsessed with her bias” 

“You are literally dreaming about this guy with things that actually happened in his life! If this isn’t real, or more than regular dreams, then you are already going mad!” She finishes rinsing her dishes and stares at you. “Look, I wouldn’t read too much into it if you were his fan before these dreams, but you didn’t even know who he was… You’re just in denial, it costs you nothing to search for at least a reason why this happens to you in the first place.”

“Then what, he’s dreaming about me, too? He’s aware that he’s talking to me while he sleeps as well? That’s delusion, Cami. I’m already feeling delusional about the concert, I don’t need more of that.”

“What do you mean he’s talking to you?”

“The way you have conversations with people when you dream sometimes.”

“And you say these are just regular dreams… I know you’re smarter than this, _______, just think about it, okay? ” your friend sighs. “Now, teachers can’t be late for school, let’s go.”

You got your bag and left your home, trying not to think about what your friend had said. With a long busy day ahead of you and a mind filled with memories of the night before, you couldn’t afford adding dreams to your list of worries.

The uneventful subway ride in the morning gave place to an eventful school day. The concert was a topic of all of your lessons. Your students were eager to know why you were absent the day before, hoping to get some sort of information about your personal life. Some of them were ARMY, and were excited to share a bit of their experience with you too.

“You are so lucky you could skip school to go earlier and get a good view” one of your high schoolers said. “My mom didn’t let me miss one class and I was probably the last one to arrive for soundcheck. My view was terrible, Ms. ______, terrible! But I’ve got seats for tonight’s show and I’m going on Saturday as well, they say Jimin is performing in one of these shows!”

“I was so close he even baptized me! I can’t believe it, he looks so fine.” you hear another voice say.

“I had lower bowl seats, I could see him after the whole stage was up, so I was lucky” you hear it in another class”

“I’m seeing SUGA in Chicago next week” oh, that’s a lot of effort.

“They are saying he’s going to the Knicks game on Sunday! I wonder if my dad can buy me tickets” someone says in your lesson right after lunch.

“Ms._____, aren’t you too old to skip work just to go to a concert of some guy? He doesn’t even know you exist” you hear one of the boys say on your last period.

“Aren’t you too old to be that stupid?” one of the girls comes to your defense before you say anything else. “ Ms. _____ can do whatever she wants.”

“Back to English, my friends” you say grinning “The day is almost over but we have a lot of work to do.”

By the time lessons are done, you find yourself grading papers. You are used to being efficient after creating a routine and following it for so long, but it seemed like thoughts of Yoongi would linger around for longer than you expected. Not that you are complaining, the man has always been a source of comfort for you. It’s just that after seeing him and experiencing joy like never before, it’s hard to know you might have to wait much longer to see him again, or any of the BTS members for that matter.

You take your phone out of your bag and, distracted as you are, watch some of the videos of the concert. The damage has been done, video after video, you smile at your phone screen like a teenager in love, laughing loudly at your own energetic screams at the beginning of a song and at your beautiful (read: awful) singing in a language that not even you could understand. The work at the desk was forgotten for a moment. You had time, at least another hour before the meeting of the English department.

 You select some of the videos and pictures to share on your Instagram. One with your ARMY Bomb, a video of Yoongi singing People, a picture of him with his guitar during Seesaw and a video of Daechwita that portrays nothing but flashes of light and screams. You try to write a caption for what it feels like hours, just to delete every single word. You do that again and again, then grade some more papers, and go back to your phone. 

I’m so proud of this guy and his work. So proud of his music. I’m astonished by his talent and I love him so much it’s hard to put into words.

There was life before Min Yoongi and after Min Yoongi (I learned that yesterday!) I just know my life will never, ever be the same.

What a fucking good day @agustd! The best moment is yet to come 💜

What a lame way to explain how you feel. At least you got a little bit off your chest. Putting your phone away, you go back to your religious work routine. Contract hours are over, but your work day isn’t finished. Little did you know, at 5:00 in the afternoon, when you were walking to the meeting room, that the day was far from being over.

You were supposed to leave the school at 6, and that would be late enough, instead, the meeting ended an hour after that. The coordinator talked and talked, and you had to go through ice breakers. Why? You didn’t know, you and the other English teachers knew each other, you could say that your relationship was friendly, so it felt like a waste of time and energy. It was almost the end of the school year, was the lecture about the importance of curriculum really necessary at this point? An email wouldn’t do?

It’s almost 8 when you open the door to your apartment, dropping your bag in the living room and going straight to the bathroom for a long hot shower. You take time and enjoy the relaxing moment, get dressed and use what’s left of your energy to reheat leftovers you found in your fridge.

“You work too much.” Camila says, dragging herself to the kitchen to get her usual glass of water before bed.

“I wish I was this late by choice” you respond, taking your plate to the dinner table. “Had a two-hour meeting with the department.”

“Two hours? What? Are you planning for next year now?”

“Same old curriculum” you say in between bites.

“Ugh, that sucks.”

“Don’t tell me about it, I can’t understand why it took us that long.”

“Just make sure to sleep well, okay? We still have tomorrow.”

Oh, you would do anything to skip to Friday afternoon. You turn airplane mode off and watch people’s Instagram stories while you eat, not really paying attention, until the melody of Haegum blasts through the speakers of your phone and scares you. You see the user and stop. Natalie?! That wasn’t the view from soundcheck last night. Did she go again?! She must have. These are not the same clothes Yoongi was wearing yesterday. You open your iMessage to text her, just to see she had already sent you a bunch of texts.

Natalie (Army) 5 pm

I know it may be too late, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to tonight’s show with me?! I’ll check the prices.

Natalie (Army) 5:20 pm

There are nosebleeds for 35 dollars!!! The show starts earlier tonight. We might be able to get there in time  if we get on one of the LIRR trains from GCS, but we need to go now! I just got my shoes on, leaving the house, tell me if you wanna go.

Natalie (Army) 5:45 pm

You are probably busy, so I'll buy my ticket and I’ll send you the link to the website so you can buy it too! Text me when you can!

35 dollars! What the fuck?

You know that even if you wanted to go to tonight's show, you wouldn’t be able to. The work day was long and there was no way to go from Brooklyn to Long Island in time. You sigh in frustration. You text her back.

You 9:03 pm

Hey, Nat! Sorry for not texting you back! I was at work until 7 :(. I saw your stories and hope you’re having fun!

It’s hard to swallow your dinner after that. You couldn’t do anything about it, of course. You hadn’t planned going to this concert anyways, so why are you feeling like you lost something that wasn’t even yours?  It’s not like you could have gone in the first place, you were working. You had your responsibilities, you are an adult after all. You feel a bump in your throat. What now? You shouldn’t cry because of something like this. You are supposed to be happy. Happy that you saw him, happy that you had the chance, happy for your friend that is seeing him again. Happy, not jealous. Happy, not frustrated. What kind of person can’t feel happy for their friends?! You are happy for her. You should be. Right? Then what kind of feeling is that?

You clean up after yourself, brush your teeth and do the most adult thing one can do before bed: scroll down your Twitter timeline.

Nine out of ten posts had Min Yoongi’s face on them. And of course, you interacted with every single one of them, from the soundcheck videos to the most amazing pictures the fans had taken, not only of tonight’s concert, but also of the one you experienced. 

Is this what it's like to be a fan? To dream about a moment that is over so quickly and miss it for the rest of your life knowing that you’ll never feel that way again? Well, never is a dramatic way to view this, but it’s what it feels like. What is it like when you see the seven BTS members just to miss them all after the highest of highs? You’d die, you are sure of it. Missing Yoongi is already hurting too much.

After what felt like hours of doom scrolling, you unpretentiously download at least three ticket resale apps, and fall asleep with your phone on your hands and your heart on your sleeve.

By the time you wake up, in front of the familiar stone house, you are surprisingly dry. The cold spring breeze touches brand new tree leaves making a crisp sound, proper for a night like this. The moonlight reflects on the stone in front of you and for the first time in your lucid dreams, you can say you’ve had a pleasant arrival.

When you open the door, you are welcomed by the usual smell of vanilla, cinnamon and coffee and everything seems in place. Everything except for the soft piano sound traveling through the air. You take your shoes off and walk in the direction of the sound, going up the stairs and notice two pictures on the wall. The one you took right when you arrived at the venue with your ARMY Bomb in your hands and a picture of Yoongi with his guitar during the concert.

You stop on your tracks and stare at the wall in front of you, wondering why those two moments were there and why the rest of the frames were still empty, unaware the music had stopped.

“You weren’t there tonight.” You hear Yoongi’s voice say from the top of the stairs.

“I was not.”

“You didn’t come here yesterday”

“Don’t blame me, I barely had any sleep”

“Come” he says, giving his back to you and walking in the direction of the first floor. “I have something to show you.” And you follow him and smile as he looks back at you just to make sure you were following along.

Yoongi takes you to the last door on the left and opens it effortlessly. 

“How did you do that?! You gasp.

“I was alone and bored last night and it just opened when I tried.”

“The other ones too?” 

“Just this one, but it had all I needed, come in”

He gives you space to go in and you almost choke when you look at the corner of the room and find the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen, surrounded by tall windows. There is a big couch and a record player right beside you and an enormous shelf filled with records on the farthest wall of the room.  By the side of the piano, there’s a support for a guitar and you can’t believe your eyes.

“That’s where the music came from! I can’t believe this piano was here this whole time! This room is so you! Oh my god, it’s beautiful!” You throw yourself on the couch.

“You heard me play?” Yoongi asks and 

“Just when I arrived, would you play again?”

“You wanna hear me playing?”

“Of course, I always want to listen to your music!”

“Did you like it yesterday?”

“The concert?” You ask and he nods. “Where should I start? It was beyond my expectations, so much more. Felt like a dream, I can’t believe it happened.”

“Were you happy with the soundcheck? Could you see everything well enough? 

“Happy? I still can’t believe I heard my favorite song twice! Well, three times if I count the rehearsal.  And SDL??? Twice?? My heart was beating so fast. And pointing at the crowd?!” You look at him and see his mouth turning into a gummy smile. “You think it’s funny? When you pointed in my direction I almost passed out. It’s like I had a fever or something.”

“Good. I thought you would like to hear those before the show. I was kind of sick yesterday, I felt better tonight, but I missed you.”

“You couldn’t even see me in the crowd, how could you miss me?”

“I couldn’t see you but I could feel you looking at me.”

“There were thousands of people looking at you, Yoongi”

“It’s different.” he crosses his arms over his white oversized t-shirt and pouts. 

“How so?” 

“It just feels different when you look at me.”

And your heart clenches in your chest, how could it not, when your dream is like the plot of a romcom?!

“Well, I guess it’s over until…”

“You should go on Saturday”

The two of you say at the same time.

“Go ahead” you say.

“You could go to the concert on Saturday. If only I can get your information, I can get you good seats.”  Yoongi clears his throat “I’d like you to be there, if you want to.”

You look straight into his eyes, stunned, scanning his face and trying to process what he just said. Just to turn and stare at the instruments in front of you and remember, that as much as you like this. This is just a dream.

“Wow. Amazing how my brain knows exactly what I want to hear and makes sure to torture myself just so I can think about what I can’t have.” You snort in amusement.

“Amazing how my brain is the one reprimanding me for indulging in its own ideas.”

Yoongi lowers his head, frustrated, he must be going crazy, because there is no way he feels the way he feels when he looks at you, and dreams about you and believes you can be in his own concert just to be reminded that what’s happening now is a dream. Why does he feel that much if it’s just a dream, then?

“I’m sorry if I was rude, it’s just that… This isn’t real.”

“I know.”

“It feels too real sometimes.”

“I know”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine”  He stands up and offers one of his hands to you. “I think I owe you a song”

You hold his hand and he walks you to the piano. As you both sit and the idol beside you plays the first keys to one of his songs, you wish these dreams weren’t dreams at all. All Yoongi wants is the girl of his dreams to look at him for a little bit longer, even if she’s only a figment of his imagination.

🪷🪷🪷

You feel horrible when you wake up. You can’t understand yourself and how one time you are pretending and acting like you are actually having a conversation with your bias, just to shut down and start thinking rationally all over again. The conversation with your roommate was stuck in your head and you can’t help but feel confused. You must be really creative to read into soundcheck setlist choices and even more delusional to think an idol with so many fans would feel your presence amongst thousands. Yes, he pointed in your direction multiple times, yes, two of the songs during soundcheck were your favorites and you mentioned that in your dreams. But dreams are just dreams, right?! Is this obsession too much? Hell, you are traveling to another continent just to go to his concert again, maybe it is too much. You toss and turn and groan in your pillow. You can’t believe you were sarcastic with dream Yoongi. Even if he’s just your creation, you shouldn’t be rude, he is still Yoongi, after all.

Needless to say,  thinking about it too much left a sour taste in your mouth. Dreams with Yoongi usually make you calm and content, but it’s a Friday and you are a complete, irritated mess. 

Everybody around you could see it was not your day, Cami gave you space after a brief good morning wish, handing you a mug with hot coffee and eating breakfast in silence. Your students were quieter than usual and your peers looked at you like there was something wrong with the usual bubbly coworker they know.

It’s hard to understand how your mood went south in a matter of two days, you felt like something was missing. You felt sad thinking about how happy you felt just two days ago, afraid that your mind would make you forget everything you lived on that Wednesday. You end up spending your free time during the day checking the resale prices for the last show in the NYC area, internally hoping the prices were low enough to be justifiable. They were not, of course they were not. Why would they be? You wanted so badly that Dream Yoongi’s offer was real. You need to give more credit to your creativity, only a wild creative mind would think of that in their sleep.

The classroom gives place to a full subway train, and as the afternoon comes to an end, you are back home, blaming yourself for not giving your best to your students that day. There’s a heavy weight pulling your body down and you have to make a lot of effort to go take a shower and prepare something to eat. You take your time and do it either way, and find yourself under the warm blanket on your bed soon after. 

There’s noise outside, like a great start of a Friday Night in the city that never sleeps. You can feel time passing by due to the amount of light that enters your room through the curtains. You hear your roommate entering the apartment, then leaving, then arriving once again, some time later. Your body is tired but your mind is pretty much alive, and sleep doesn’t come to you, even hours after you went to bed.

Reaching for the table lamp beside you, find the switch and close your eyes when you turn the light on. Then you reach for your pen and your journal, and you write, write and write. Words that don’t make sense, thoughts that follow you, poems to express how you feel, love letters addressed to the void. The first signs of morning light interrupt your moment, your mind decides to give in, and you close your eyes surrendering to your slumber. For those few hours, you don’t dream about a thing.

🪷🪷🪷 

It’s past 2 in the afternoon when Camila decided it was time for you to get over it. 

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty” she says after slamming the door open and opening the curtains. 

“What the hell, Cami?!”You squeeze your eyes shut and stretch one of your arms.

“You have two options” Camila’s tone is assertive “You either talk about it first and then get ready, or get ready and talk about it on the way”

“On the way to what?” You stare at your friend.

“To the concert of course, unless the reason for this isn’t that kpop idol and your denial, amongst other things, then I apologize. Otherwise, I’m not letting you wallow in self-pity”

”I’m not wallowing in self-pity”

“Really? Seems like it to me” She rolls her big brown eyes, and sits on the end of your bed. “Look, _____, I don’t really know what’s gotten into you in the last 24 hours, I know that you are very in touch with your feelings and it’s a beautiful strength to allow yourself to feel everything, especially the bad stuff. If you have post-concert depression or whatever they call it and you still want to go, it’s okay. What you want is so simple to get, why are you acting like it’s so impossible to see your guy again? Just go…Writing like a maniac in the middle of the night won’t change anything.”

“How did you …” you gape at her.

“Your hands are so stained, dude” she exclaims. You look down at your hands and snort.

“I already have tickets to another concert and I’m happy about it, I didn’t even plan to go tonight”

”Still, it’s not about the planning, it’s about the wanting. If you wanna go tonight, why are you denying yourself something that you want?”

”I feel like I’m too old to be so obsessed with someone that doesn’t even know I exist” you sigh “He’s in my head even when I’m not awake, it just feels wrong.”

”There’s not too old and you know it. You are not doing anything wrong and dreaming about people isn’t a crime, you know?! Just enjoy it while you can, you think too much. There are people that invade their privacy and their space, now that’s wrong. It’s something so simple to do. Can we just go?”

“We?”

“You know, for an English Lit teacher, you lack a bit of interpretation…” She tilts her head “I want to check out what kind of concert makes you go euphoric then the full mode Bella Swan depression scene in Full Moon, even though I think it’s more about your Korean Edward Cullen than anything else.”

“His skin is actually really bright”

"Ugh, It’s so unfair” she pauses then jumps “But there’s no time for this. Get up, we’re going to Jersey.”

And that’s how you found yourself in front of the arena, under the rain, covered with a 5-dollar poncho and without any tickets an hour before the show starts. It didn’t take long to change your ticketing situation, though. Once you got there, there was no point in waiting too much for ticket prices to go down, you were already waiting for the concert, so you and Camila settled for second row center lower bowl tickets. They were not so close to the stage, but you were going to see the whole concert with ease this time.

You get nervous as the start time approaches, and there are still so many people in front of you. Camila, on the other hand, beams as she gets freebies from ARMY.

”There are so many photocards! And bracelets! I even got chocolate from someone, look!” She shows you a handful of plastic bags. “I love this!”

Loud cheers erupt from the inside of the venue and you grab your friend’s shoulder hard. Throughout the glass windows, you can see people running inside after they pass security. 

“Oh no, we’re going to miss at least Haegum and Daechwita” you cry.

”You don’t know, maybe they are screaming about something else, there are so many people out, they should wait a little longer”

You listened to your roommate this time, even if your whole body was shaking in anxiety. You passed smoothly through security five minutes later, Cami wasn’t so lucky, as the staff was not letting her take her film camera inside.

”Listen, lady, with all due respect, there are hundreds of people behind me, in the rain. The concert is about to start and you are making this really hard. Bringing my camera isn’t against the rules, just let me get it and go my way” You hear your friend speak, frustrated. “Just go to our seats, ______! Run, I’ll meet you there”

And so you do, going fast to your section, so fast to the point you almost slipped because of the water in your shoes. When you get to your seat, you are relieved to see that the concert is yet to start, you throw your jacket, bag and poncho under your seat and turn your ARMY Bomb on. You can hear your loud heartbeat in your ears and you take your time to look around you and at what you are doing now. You are so happy you could cry right now. Camila runs to your side throwing her stuff on her seat. 

“God, they were being so rude to so many fans. There are so many people outside, and it’s just infuriating, the patronizing tone, poor boy band fans have to go through this. I know they work to keep us safe, but is it hard to be nicer?”

“We are talking about an event that has women as the majority of the public. Do you think they know how to be nice?”

“I’m glad I didn’t miss a thing”

“I’m glad you convinced me to come. I’m so happy you are here with me!” You hug your friend. “It’s way past the time, I think it’s going to start at any minute now!”

The trigger warning appears on the screens right after you say that. The light sticks start to glow in synchronicity and the legion of fans inside of the arena just screams. You join them with a high-pitched yell that makes Camila giggle by your side. It’s electric and almost overwhelming. The VCR video starts and you react to it like it’s the first time. Until he gets on stage, and your body immediately reacts to him. The feverish touch of your skin and your  rapid pulse combined make you feel dizzy, especially after hearing his voice at the start of the first song of the night. Still, there’s nothing that could stop you from looking at your bias on that stage.

”What are these girls recording on the upper level?” Camila points, 4 songs into the concert.

You turn fast, your gaze following the phones of the girls beside you and you gasp.

”JIMIN?!”

You think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you could recognize a BTS member anywhere, even in the dark, feet away from you and covered with a mask and a bucket hat.

”Oh my God, Cami, that’s Jimin!” you dance, the smile can’t leave your face “This is the best day of my life!”

You didn’t know how any other day would compare to this. The joy in your body was only intensified each time you looked where Jimin was seated. Your heart melted under Yoongi’s gaze at the public, and how cute he looked even after breaking the guitar string right before playing Seesaw. Having your friend by your side made you even happier, you were beaming every time she sang a familiar song or made a comment about Yoongi.

”This guy is hilarious” she said after he made sure to pick a fan with a Galaxy phone. “Samsung must be so happy now”

 And when he walks out the stage, without looking back, your world feels a little numb again. Camila is energetic and spends most of her time on the way back home showing you the videos she took of you and of Min Yoongi.

”Girl, the guy had the guitar and you were whipped” she hands you her cell phone. “And him, he looks at the crowd like he is in love, I’m not even his fan and I felt it” she says and you laugh in response.

”It ended so fast, Cami. I know I will see the same concert again, but it was so fast, I barely had time to process everything and it was over. It was so much fun, then he just left…” you say “ I wish I could live this night forever”

”I can see why you like him so much. And you even saw the other guy! I’m so happy you decided to come”

”Me too, thank you for calling me on my bullshit”

”That’s what I’m here for.”

It’s late in Brooklyn when you finally arrive at your apartment. Both you and your roommate have a late-night snack and take your much needed relaxing showers. As you lay in your bed, with a body still electrified from the tour and with so much joy in your heart, you are invaded with a deep sense of yearning.  You watch one, two, ten videos of tonight’s concert with a smile on your face, and, when you least expect it, you shed a tear. The first tear in days soon becomes a river of emotions that overflows from your eyes to your ears. You are so happy that it happened. You can’t wait to do it all over again.

“You smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name”

There was no sound and no light in the hotel Min Yoongi was staying in that night. Still, despite the lack of any outside interference, he was tossing and turning for the last two hours. He didn’t know where his body was taking all of this energy from in order to stay awake like that when was so exhausted.

He felt the quite familiar tingly sensation at the bottom of his stomach. He felt like his heart was literally cold, he felt like he couldn’t breathe and that made him feel a little desperate too. Logically, he knew it would be just another show, another tour. He performed for thousands of people, he gave hundreds of interviews and promoted so many albums before. He knew all of it, that should help him sleep. Just another show. He is a professional, he wrote the songs, they are all about his story. He can do it. He should be able to do it. It’s a challenge of course, being alone, but he performed on a stage alone before. His members were backstage, he knows, but he sure did. He can handle a tour by himself. Right?!

But he’s sick. His throat is sore and his body hurts because of a cold that came at the wrong time. The doctor said he should take more care of himself. The hectic work routine wasn’t a problem, after so many years, he should be used to it, so it’s obvious that he was frustrated with the situation. He needed sleep to make sure the first concert was successful, to make sure his voice was good enough, to have energy to see ARMY after such a long time.

Yoongi groans. He didn’t want to be worried about it. He just wants to have a great time before he has to leave. He wants to focus on the lyrics he himself wrote and that what’s to come is going to be okay. He moves around some more. He walks around the room, he drinks a bit of water, pulls his hair up, stares at his face in the bathroom mirror. 

“Get. It. Together.”

He doesn’t dare to get his yellow notepad. He knows he won’t be able to stop working until the morning if he decides to do so. He tosses and turns some more and almost cries in annoyance. He does breathing exercises to calm the monster in his brain that tells him something will go wrong. Yoongi does all of that until his tired body wins the battle against his anxious mind and he falls into deep sleep.

🪷🪷🪷

The second you opened your eyes in your dreams you felt your clothes heavy and your shoes squeaking due to the amount of water in them. Really? Again?

The storm was worse than last time, too. Bright lightning bolts painted the dark sky and the powerful thunders made you feel like the whole world around you was shaking. The amount of water falling all over your face made it difficult to keep your eyes open, but you could see the warm light coming from the same house of stone from your previous dream, and that’s the direction you ran to.

As you open the maroon door, the welcoming scent of the house envelops you. You immediately take your shoes and socks off and run up the stairs to the attic, in hopes that a certain someone was there again. You find nothing but the film reels and pillows.

You try not to wilt too much. You know it’s a dream, and you hoped you could talk to that version of Yoongi that your brain created. After all, that is the closest you’ll ever get to talk to him, even if it’s not real. You check each and every door on your way down to the living room, in hopes of finding perhaps a change of clothes, but all of the doors are locked. You reach the living room leaving behind you a path of water droplets that will probably stain the hardwood floor.

Shivers surround your entire body and you can’t help but feel annoyed by the situation. Is this some personal test to see how you need to practice patience?

You look around and stare at the logs piled up beside the fireplace, then, you stare at the kitchen cabinets and suddenly feel the gears in your brain making up a plan.

“Imaginary coffee in the middle of the night won’t make me stay awake if I’m already sleeping, right?” You reassure yourself out loud before making your way to the kitchen.

“Brain, I wish for coffee, and maybe an espresso pot, or something” you say as the sound of the doors of the cabinets opening and closing echoed around the room. You analyze the cabinet space, finding some pots and pans. You search for coffee on the overhead cabinets, but, besides mugs and plates, you find a single box of tea. 

“Chamomile tea?! Ha ha very funny”

That would have to do. 

You get one of the pots to boil water and go back to the living room just stare at the pile of firewood and try to strategize a way to light the fireplace up. It must be a simple thing of course, but it’s not like you’ve ever done it before. You get some of the pieces of wood and try to put them in the fireplace, trying to organize them in the right way before finding out how it actually works.

“Ugh! Why is the weather here always like this?” You let out a loud groan. You don’t remember feeling that cold last time you’ve dreamed about this place, quite the opposite, but you were also too distracted by someone last time to pay attention to the state of your clothes or your body temperature.

“How many times have you been here again?” The deep voice that comes from the front door makes you jump. Air escapes through your mouth as you put your hand over your chest in an attempt to calm your heart. You already know whose voice is that, hell, by now you could recognize it anywhere.

“It’s only the second time, but It’s been uncomfortable enough” you turn your face to answer the question and there he is in all his glory. Suddenly, the shivers are gone and you feel your cheeks burning and your heart tight. Min Yoongi combs his long wet hair with his fingers in a way that makes you feel so thankful for your imagination because it’s such a heavenly sight you could die. He takes his shoes off, and tries to loosen up the oversized black T-shirt, just so it could stick to his torso and his arms again. You are about to gasp loudly when he speaks.

“Need help?”

Yoongi’s hands grab the other edge of the piece of wood you’re holding and he’s suddenly right in front of you. Safe distance but so close. You wonder if he looks like this in real life or if the glowy skin and wet hair is just some sort of fantasy of the deepest and most delusional part of your subconscious. Under the golden light of the living room he looks ethereal, and you don’t understand how someone like him could exist in the real world. Before your casual look turns into staring, you answer him.

“Yep, that’d be great”

“Right” 

He kneels in front of the fireplace, takes a close look at it and starts talking to himself in Korean while rearranging what you tried to organize before. Then, he asks you for whatever you used to turn the stove on (a matchbox that you promptly grab and give to him). 

As he works on the fire, you pour water into two mugs and add the bags of chamomile tea in them, observing how Yoongi lights up the fireplace in a matter of seconds.

“Wow, that was fast!”

“It is actually a gas fireplace, so I just needed to find the switch. It was quite simple.”

Okay. Now you feel a little dumb.

“Well, Thank you, Yoongi.” You walk in his direction and offer him one of the mugs, which he grabs gladly.

“It’s Chamomile” you say.

“Huh” he looks at the mug amused.

“What?”

“Just ironic”

“Well, took me a while to sleep because I am too anxious for tomorrow, but my brain found a way to quiet my anxiety in dreamland”

“Guess I should thank your brain then”

“Anxious too?”

“I didn’t know performing by myself would make me that nervous, feels like I’m a rookie all of a sudden”

“You’ll be fine” you say as if you’re talking to your bias for real. “Look at everything you did… All of those singles, and the videos for ARMY,the documentary and the album, of course.That album is everything and more, you just write better and better songs every time it’s not even fair to all of the other artists out there.” You look at him just to find a shy grin on his lips. “ And your fans simply adore you, I know I can’t wait to see you tomorrow”

“Wait, are you going tomorrow?” 

“Are you kidding me?! I’ve been dreaming, quite literally, about the day I’ll see you, or real you play. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Why do you think I’m so nervous about tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, tests to grade?”

“And here I thought my dreams were a safe place away from teacher responsibilities” you massage your temples, wishing your subconscious would give you a break “ But no, I will miss school to see Min Yoongi"

“You mean, you’ll miss school to see me?!” He smirks.

“Well, the actual you, yes, unfortunately the you I’m talking to right now is just a figment of my imagination”

“I could say the same about you” he murmurs and takes a sip of his tea.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean” your eyes scam his face.

“I’m not sure if I know it either” he shrugs, then asks “Did you get good seats to the show?” 

“I’ve got soundcheck, so the view will depend on the time I arrive. I know it will be great regardless, I’ve been waiting for this concert for such a long time.”

“You’ve been now?”

“I thought it would be BTS, but it’s my bias, so I’m excited, of course”

“I hope I can be an artist that can make you proud, even if I am performing without the members.” And you give him a proud smile. This is such a Yoongi thing to say.

“I’m already proud. We all are. The MV today? It shredded my heart to pieces, although I had deja vu because I feel like it was exactly like what I saw last time I was here. I don’t think you understand how proud I am, and happy I can have songs like this to relate to. He, or you… I don’t even know anymore, will do well”

“You are feeding my ego, ________”

“But it’s true”

“Thank you”

“And I’ll be there, probably crying my heart out to ‘People’, that song probably saved my life. Oh God, I hope it’s on the setlist”

“That I can’t say, but I can ask you which song from the album you liked the most”

“Well, it’s too early to say, but SDL is stuck in my head”

“Funny you mention that” he says, and you arch your eyebrows in a question. “That one was written about you”.

And you sip your tea smile fondly at him, finding it comical how your brain created this scene of exactly what you’d like to hear the most from a certain someone.

🪷🪷🪷

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm clock goes off, but you don’t feel tired at all. Instead, you jump out of bed and go straight to the shower, ready to start the most unusual Wednesday of your adult life. You hum the songs as you braid the top of your hair on both sides to let it out of your face, and let the rest of your curls down.

Energy is buzzing through you while you get dressed with your best version of the Daechwita outfit that you love so much. You hope that the army green jacket is enough to keep you warm on this spring day, at least while you’re out of the venue.

You go to the kitchen to fix your breakfast and find a sleepy Camila brewing her morning coffee.

“How come you are awake and ready before me?” She asks with a hoarse voice.

“I woke up before my alarm and had everything ready for once”

“What’s with the three hundred chains on your neck?”

“It’s a costume, Cami.” you reply,  pointing to your whole outfit.

“Oh. Oh! I know what this costume is! But…Where’s the scar?”

“I practiced doing it multiple times in the last couple of days, but it didn’t look good. I’m afraid I’ll ruin the rest of my makeup if I do it right now.”

“Today is the day. Maybe you’ll have more luck if you try it one more time. I can help you”

“No worries. You've got to leave for school and I need to leave too.”

“When does this concert start again?”

“I guess around 8. Gates will open at 3”

“8 p.m.?! You are ready at this time in the morning for a concert that starts at 8 p.m?! You’ve gone mad!”

“You forgot the fact that we are talking about BTS fans, right now. People are camping! I’m already late.”

“This is insane! Completely insane!” 

“You gotta do what you gotta do”

“I would never!”

“I’ve also said that once… Look at me now.”

“Well” she stands up with her coffee mug. “I have to get ready for work. You have fun with your man”

“You say it like this isn’t just a concert!” You let out an exasperated huff.

“You say it like you don’t dream about this guy all the time and this is the first time you’ll actually see him. Also, he will be there, you’ll be there. You’re gonna have fun together at the same space”

“You should stop nurturing delusional me”

“You’re not delusional. Dreams can mean many things and I just know there’s something there. As you know, I’m always right.” Cami tosses her messy morning hair and walks away. “Enjoy, amiga!” 

“I will!” You yell from the kitchen table.

You finish your coffee and feel even more energy buzzing through your veins, you have no time to lose, so you just quickly get your concert bag, your ARMY Bomb, wear your sneakers and take a quick look in the mirror.

Your roommate was, in fact, right: The scar was missing. So you do it. Carefully, thinking about what that symbol meant to him, and what you made it mean to you. You look again in the mirror and, this time, it actually looked good, not perfect, but also not terrible. Feeling ready to celebrate the music (and the artist) that helped you so much, you walk out the door, excited to feel all of the emotions only a concert can bring you.

As it turns out, getting to the venue was not an easy feat for a Brooklyn resident. You’d have to take 3 trains and a bus and it would take you almost two hours to get there anyways. You were also supposed to take the bus with your concert buddy, after all, you had to get the VIP package together, but she was running late, which meant that, after more than one hour inside of the trains, you had to wait at least 25 more minutes to meet up with your friend. It made you arrive at the place way later than what you would have liked.

Now, you don’t know what you expected of an event with ARMYs, but you sure did not expect to spend most of your day in a line. You knew many people would camp, you knew many people would arrive before the time you woke up, but the amount of people in front of you in that line? That was just crazy. By the first 40 minutes, your poor lower back was already crying for help, and it was only past midday when you could actually get your pink bracelet with your number on it. Behind a thousand people, it was clear that the barricade was not feasible, still, you hoped you’d have a great view of the stage. Besides that, it was fun to go around with your tour lanyard and write messages on the pavement with chalk, and see so many people with flags of so many different countries. 

“I feel like this is a dream.” you hear Natalie beside you.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit weird that all of these people are here because they like the same thing we do?” you say.

“It does feel crazy when you actually see it!”

“I wonder how we will react when we see him for the first time…”

“I feel like crying just thinking about that!”

“I just can’t wait! "You jump excitedly.

“Well, we’ll have to…” Natalie points to the door “ There’s another gigantic line coming our way.”

The line that took over the one of the parking lots of UBS Arena gave place to multiple lines inside of the venue, for merch, for food, and to enter the arena for the soundcheck, of course. The moment you stepped inside of that place, you felt different. Your skin was tingling all over and your heart was beating faster than ever before. This is it. It’s real and happening so soon.

The fans were singing to the Agust D songs being played and you couldn’t wait to actually hear him. Natalie and you find the line you’re supposed to be at and sit on the floor, just singing and waiting for the soundcheck.

“We are actually going to be the first people to hear some of these songs live!” your friend squeals in joy by your side.

“If he performs ‘People’ in front of me, please tell my family that I died happy, it’s my favorite…”

You stop speaking the moment the music suddenly stops and you hear a deep voice saying something you don’t understand, just to laugh right after. All of the fans around you roar in excitement and that’s when you realize these songs are not recordings. It's him. It’s his rehearsal. He’s here and he’s laughing and you just heard Yoongi laugh and you will see him in a while and he’s real. This is not a dream at all.

You’ll really die a happy death.

“Okay, everybody! May I have your attention please?!” A member of the staff yells to both your group and the other line. “We will start letting you guys in, remember, no pushing, no running, be respectful and please, no photos or videos during the soundcheck. We will take you out of the venue if you don’t follow these instructions. I don’t want to call any of your parents to tell them you got hurt. It’s all for your safety. Are we clear?”

You hear hums in agreement and a single scoff behind you.

“Call my parents? I’m the parent, hell, I might even be the grandma”

Both you and Natalie turn in the direction of the voices and your eyes find a trio of women who might be a little older than your parents. You giggle a little and decide to interact with them. After all, what are concerts for?

“Well, I’m pretty sure some of my students are here, so I can say that I’m a professional at being a responsible adult”

“If they see you and something goes wrong, I’m sure there will be parents popping up to say that you should’ve done something. You see everything these days” the lady with the short dark hair says. 

“I even saw some ARMYs fighting and getting physical outside. I’ve never seen something like this before. This is not the ARMY I know, this is not spreading the BTS love.” The short lady with the silver, pink and purple hair adds.

“Have you gone to multiple BTS concerts?” Natalie asks the trio.

“So many!” The third woman answers. “We went to Busan last year and to PTD - LA”

“PTD in LA was phenomenal, we got front row seats. The guys must have been weirded out by these three crazy grandmas screaming their names” the colorful haired woman says. “Is Yoongi your bias?”

“He is!” you say “It’s actually my first time seeing one of them!”

“Oh my! It will be amazing!” She exclaims. “He is my bias as well! I was in the same elevator as him once… On one of our trips to Korea. Poor boy! He was so tiny in the corner, all because I held the elevator and entered. I couldn’t say a word, of course! I wouldn’t. I was just dying inside, and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.” She laughs “It was one of those moments of pure luck. What are the odds? I always say there was life before Min Yoongi and life after Min Yoongi. I hope you feel the same way tonight”

“Wow” you say “And here I am, barely holding up after hearing his voice and knowing we are in the same place, you are a strong soldier!”

“I had to be! The poor boy would feel even more uncomfortable. It’s not easy being that famous! He has to worry about safety all the time, not all ARMYs will just pretend they are not around. You know how there’s always someone to stalk and show up armed around them. It’s so sad.”

Both Natalie and you kept talking to the three nice ladies until the line started to move and you finally saw the stage from the entrance. You try to speak, but a shriek leaves your mouth, your friend holds your hand and you go together to the left side of the stage. With so many people in front of you in line, you thought your view of the stage would be bad, but it seems okay. You are far from the barricade, but can see the stage well. Natalie isn’t pleased, being shorter than you are, even with her platform shoes. 

“I’ll try to squeeze my way to the front, or at least in front of the tall people”

“Go ahead, Nat”

And as she goes, not so far from your vision. You move in your own place waiting for the soundcheck to start and to finally see Yoongi perform. It takes a while. You step side to side, you shake your arms and legs multiple times, like a dance routine that you practice over and over again, for 10, 20, 30 minutes, until you feel it again, only this time, stronger. The tingling embraced you whole body, and your vision blur, you felt your neck and face hot and, for a millisecond, the only sound you could hear was your heartbeat, rapidly substituted by the thousands of voices screaming his name. People push you to the front to get closer to the stage and you try to regain your balance before looking up.

What you see looks more like a mirage than a person. The air seems to get lost on the way to your lungs and you are so overwhelmed that it makes you want to cry. You don’t, too focused on the man on the stage, and how he smiles and glows as all of his fans scream his name.

How can a man be this beautiful? You ask yourself. It's unfair.

He tests the microphone and the beat of ‘People’ fills the arena. Your heart skips another beat, and you get your ARMY Bomb and sing the lyrics of your comfort song with him. Happy is an understatement, what you feel can’t be described. You can’t stop looking at Yoongi, and when he comes closer to your side, scanning the crowd while rapping, you almost melt. You wonder if he can see the faces in the crowd and if he sees yours, even with the lightsticks shining so bright. The soundcheck keeps going with ‘People pt. 2’ and you have so much fun singing and dancing to the song.

“Are you having fun?!” Yoongi asks the crowd.

You scream and jump in excitement, just like the other ARMYs.

When ‘SDL’ starts, your mind takes you back to your dream. You try not to think about it, because dreams aren’t real and you can’t think about dreams and forget about reality. But when he comes close once again and points at your direction changing the key when singing “I’m thinking ‘bout you”, you can’t help but be a little delusional, even when you know it’s wrong. Later in the song, he comes close to the edge of the stage. Fans in the barricade go insane when he pulls his shiny hair back while singing the chorus one more time. You can’t stop looking at him, and admiring how he shines, when he points to your direction in the crowd again and ends the song.

“See you tonight!” he says, waving as he walks away.

“You’ll never see, you sing me to sleep every night from the radio”

March 1st, 2023

Your hands were tied now. You got waitlisted, Cami got waitlisted, the other coworkers without a membership didn’t stand a chance. You are sure a code isn’t a guarantee that the tickets would be yours. The only hope was a friend of one of the teachers at the school, that was the only person you knew that had the code, and well, maybe you have a new ARMY friend now.

Just the fact that someone got the code was a relief. The downside was that there’s nothing you can do, and, considering you were a control freak, having no other option but wait was enough to make you freak out.

To be honest, everybody was freaking out, from your roommate to your co-workers and even the principal, everyone knew how important this was to you because you were acting crazy and anxious, everyone signed for the pre-sale (even if you knew that people without memberships wouldn’t stand a chance). Today, of all days, you felt cared for by everyone around, who made a point to check if you were okay.

So, when the afternoon came, and the bell rang announcing the end of the school day, you bid your students farewell and immediately opened twitter on your laptop, just to check how things were going. There was nothing you could do on the Ticketmaster website, your account wasn’t linked to a code anyways.

“You know, refreshing twitter 1000 times per minute won’t make it any easier. I’d say it will make it worse.” Camila’s voice echoed behind you.

“I know, I know. I just need to know. It’s my first time doing this, and I’m not actually doing this and it’s driving me insane!” You retorted standing up and pacing.

“Woah, have you thought about calling her? I’m sure she’s nervous too”

“Don’t you think that’s too controlling of me to do that? We kind of talked about the seats we want and the other options in case they sell out. I’m so obsessed with this man it’s probably not healthy.”

“ I mean, you are a fan and it means something to you and it’s obvious you have a connection of some kind with him because you keep dreaming about him which is weird and interesting at the same time” she rambled “But, you are also paying and you are a fan, so, I know this is important to you, and not too much at all, just facetime her!”

You stared at your friend and smiled. Then, grabbed you phone in your bag and called Natalie, your newest ARMY friend.

“Hi, ________! I was about to call you”

“No way!”

Cami looks at you with arched eyebrows, amused.

“ Yes! You know, we both want the Saturday show, but I was thinking that maybe I should try the queue for Wednesday or Thursday too. Just in case. Many people will want to go on Saturday cause it’s the weekend, I want to make sure I can get us tickets”

“Uh, sure, I mean, Saturday is ideal, but I also don’t want to risk it” You answer.

“Alright, any minute now. Floor as close as possible or any of the side lower bowls right? I don’t know why I am asking, we talked about it. I’m so nervous” she lets out a nervous laugh and you laugh as well. At least you’re not the only one.

“ It’s gonna be okay, I’m sure we’ll get great seats” You don’t know if you’re telling this to her or to yourself, still, you try to believe it.

“We will. It 's time! Wish me luck”

“Good luck, Natalie!”

“_________, the page is refreshing! Oh God! I hope the school’s wifi is good enough” At exactly 3 p.m Natalie's nervous face gives space to focused features. You held your phone tighter and sat on your desk, shaking your legs while silently watching the woman’s face through the screen.

“ More than 2000 people in front of me, what the fuck” Your heart stops at the same minute, even if you could get to the map page, the chances of getting a great seat seemed far away now.

“More than 2000 for the one on Thursday too… Come on!” She paused and then screamed “Oh my God, 200 people before us for Wednesday”

“God, Natalie! I was about to cry here”

“Don’t fail on me, Ticketmaster.”

Your free hand runs through your hair, making a mess of the long curls. You wonder how many of your students are probably going through this same process right now, and you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“It’s my turn… let me see. We want the floor… _________, floor is general admission, are you okay with that? It’s the soundcheck too.”

“Yes. I’m good with that, yes”

“Okay, selecting… Your credit card number is on my account, right, let’s get it, please ticketmaster work for once in your life, let me get it”

At this point, you didn’t even want to look at the screen, you knew how this website was tricky on pre-sale days, especially after the whole fiasco with the Taylor Swift Tour. You hoped the website wouldn't break down on Natalie’s turn. It felt like time was passing slower than it should, your legs hanging from the desk couldn’t move more, and you were scared of having the chance just so to have it taken away from you.

“Yougottheticketslettheanticipationbegin, __________!!!!! We are seeing him”

“Did it work?” You look at the screen and she’s showing you the confirmation page.

“It worked! Oh my God! I can’t believe it actually worked. Oh fuck it’s on a Wednesday, my poor students. Oh God, we are seeing him”

“Are we truly seeing him?!” Excitement was an understatement, you squeaked and jumped from the desk and smiled so big your cheeks hurt.

“____________, I’ll talk to you later, maybe I can still talk to the HR and tell them I’ll need the day off, make sure to do that too, okay?”

“Natalie, I can’t thank you enough. Thank you so, so, so much!”

“No worries, I can’t wait to scream with you during the show”

You put your phone away and look at Camila, who was watching the whole scene silently with a smirk on her face.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream”

“It’s not a dream, amiga. You’re seeing the guy from your dreams so soon now”

“This does not feel real. It was so fast.”

“It was meant to be. I feel it.” You cover you tearing eyes with both hands and and giggle as you hear your best friend saying that.

“I'm seeing Yoongi”

“About that, now that you got a ticket for the concert here, I should give you this” She took a folded sheet of paper out of the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to you.

“And that is?”

“Just unfold it and see”

And so you did, and looking at the paper, you couldn’t help but shed some tears.

“Is this what I think it is?

“If you think it is a confirmation email for a ticket of one of the shows in Korea, then yes, yes it is”

“Cami, how did you do this?”

“You forget that you made me get a fan club membership, so I wanted to make sure you saw him.”

“In Korea?” You say in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s not that difficult to stay up and buy tickets in the middle of the night, when you have a real purpose. I mean, I got a nosebleed, I hope you don’t mind, I guess the time difference and lack of practice count when doing this, but I got it and it’s during Summer and you don’t have school as an excuse for not going, so you better get your savings for your Korea trip and actually buy flight tickets to go to Korea and see your dream man there.”

“You are the craziest person I’ve ever met” You hug your friend tight, not knowing what to do with the tsunami of information that came in your direction in the last 15 minutes.

“Besides, I think that your dreaming about this guy is weird but I also feel there’s something there and I know you won’t do anything about it if there’s no push. So here’s your push, consider this an early birthday gift.”

“I don’t know what kind of ideas you have about this, but they are just dreams.Thank you. Hell, I’ll see him twice”

“Yes, _________, yes, you will”

🪷🪷🪷

April 21st, 2023

The first thing you did when your alarm went off was to grab your phone and open the Youtube app. Thankfully, the miniature for the music video was already on your home page, so you lost no time and just played the video.

To say you were mesmerized and entranced by the music video and the song playing was an understatement, you were so impressed by the lyrics and the two versions of Yoongi you were seeing, everything looked so perfect, and that was enough to make you excited to listen to the entire album. But it was when Yoongi pulled a cigarette out of the box with his teeth that you let out a loud squeal, that made your roommate come check on you.

“Are you thirsting for the BTS guy at this time in the morning?”

“He just smoked a cigarette in the MV”

“You hate those things!"

“He made it look really hot”

Cami rolled her eyes and dragged herself to your bed.

“Come on, I wanna see it”

You both get comfortable on your bed and you restart the video. Your roommate watches attentively, and teases you, elbowing you slightly everytime a cigarette appears. You end up watching the rest of the video together and you barely have words when it comes to an end.

“He is really an artist” that’s all you can say.

“I saw what you meant with the smoking thing, nice song, he’s just not really my type”

“And what’s your type?”

“A tall brunette with a buzzcut and very, very handsome, but also nice and kind and good with his words. He could also be a doctor, maybe, I don’t know”

“That’s oddly specific”

“Well, maybe you get to meet him soon”

“I get to WHAT?”

“We need to get ready, we are teachers and we can’t really be late, come on”

“Camila, get your ass right here” you scream as she runs through the door. “This is not over!”

You laugh as you get ready to work. You decide to listen to the album after you get home, to actually pay attention to the lyrics. As you walk to the subway station, you make sure to run your lesson plans for the day through your mind, taking the time to also plan the Friday night ahead of you.

Your work day goes by slowly, like every other Friday. At this point of the school year, with Summer Vacation approaching, your students don’t want to have classes anymore and, if you’re being honest, as much as you love your job, you weren’t fond of teaching at this time of the year either. So you did your best to make your lessons light and fun, for them and for you, eventually taking some time to talk about topics that were interesting for all of them.

When the bell rings, you wish a great weekend for everyone and pack your things as quickly as you can to walk to the subway station. As usual, you stop at Times Square, but instead of changing trains, you decide to walk around the small Bryant Park. You buy yourself the sweetest and creamiest cold brew. The cold coffee was not the best idea, considering the city was still chilly, but it was your favorite, and it was your way of treating yourself after a long hard week of work. You people watch for a while, taking in the groups of tourists walking on 42nd street, from where you assume was Grand Central, in the direction of the outdoors on Times Square. You see people talking, sitting around the tiny green tables, you observe the empty carousel, and the outfits of the women walking around (those were always nice to watch). You observe the mix of trees and the buildings all together and the food trucks around and although this area of the city was incredibly chaotic and not your favorite to walk around, you were glad you could sit and appreciate the beauty in this chaos.

After taking the Q train and arriving in your apartment, you take a long relaxing shower and wear your most comfortable set of PJs. You feel inspired to cook a nice dinner to watch the documentary with. As you get the ingredients to make your favorite pasta dish, you hear the door open.

“I beat you home today” you sing from the kitchen.

“I had some papers to grade and decided to follow your steps and not bring work home. I hated it. My bed is a much more comfortable grading spot” your roommate answers.

“Are you having dinner here?”

“Yes, give me a minute to shower and I’ll help you out”

But dinner was so easy to make that, by the time Camila was back, you’re already done. You put the creamy pasta on plates and take them to the living room, opening the Disney + app to find Yoongi’s documentary.

“I’ll only watch it with you because I’m a great friend” you hear your best friend say and you look at her with an amused smile, knowing well she wouldn’t watch anything she was not interested in.

And so you watch the documentary and see how this album started. You are washed with a sense of deja vu when you see a scene of 2020. Differently from the In The Soop cuts, this time, what you see is exactly like your first dream and you pay attention to all of the details to make sure you’re actually watching it. How could you forget your first dream with him? This time, thanks to the subtitles, you could actually understand what they were talking about and your heart skips a beat when Yoongi tells Jimin about the amygdala, explaining how this is a part of the brain that processes trauma, and telling his friend about the song. You vaguely remember thinking about how you wanted your brain to process your trauma better and wishing for it to just work right before dreaming of Yoongi for the first time. And as the performance of the song goes, you take in the lyrics.

It's no news that you identify yourself with BTS songs. But this one felt different. As he raps and unfolds each of his traumas you can't help but think about your own traumas and how you did that too three years ago.

You can feel Camila’s eyes on you. And you know she knows what you are feeling and she knows that you dreamed about this. You feel like you should comment on it, but saying it out loud sounds like madness, because this time, you actually know that it happened in real life too.

The movie continues with his trips and his writing process and you try to let your deep thoughts go to watch it properly. It is your first time listening to the songs of the new album, and you can see that all of the effort shown in the documentary was worth it, the songs and the performances were more than anything you were expecting and you couldn't wait for the tour.

"You and this guy are so similar." Camila says when the documentary is over.

"I guess I can relate to him a little bit" you say. "Now, I need to start practicing these songs for Wednesday"

"You cooked, I do the dishes" your roommate announces when you both stand up.

"I won't argue you with that"

You say goodnight before walking to your room, where you get your airpods and get ready to listen to the D-DAY album, in sequence, of course. With the lights out and cell phone in hand, you search for the translation of each song as you listen to them. You observe every figure of speech, every rhyme, all the story telling, and you repeat, inside your head, the scene from your dream, the one you just watched on the TV. How could someone on the other side of the planet think in the same frequency as you and describe your feelings so well? You didn’t want to get obsessed with the idea of it, because it gets crazier with time, but you can’t help but feel like, somehow, the universe brought you Min Yoongi because it knew you needed someone to relate to.

You listen to AMYGDALA once again, and another time, wishing you could take the pain away from someone that didn’t even know you, and with Yoongi’s voice singing in your ears, you fall into deep sleep.

🪷🪷🪷

When you gain consciousness again, it’s dark and pouring. You find yourself in front of a beautiful house that looks like it just came out of a movie set. Its light colored bricks (you couldn't possibly identify the color in the dark) were covered in vines, the only illumination surrounding you is the warm yellow light that comes through the windows.

You run to the porch to avoid getting even more wet. The hiss of the wind is loud and the cold early spring air embraces you as tiny droplets of water touch your skin, making you shiver uncomfortably.

You look at the imponent maroon door and entering the welcoming house sounds like the perfect plan right now. It’s obvious you are dreaming, there are no houses like this in New York City, so worst case scenario, it’s a nightmare and you’ll wake up regretting your decisions. This, or you’ll freeze to death and then wake up. Either way, you’ll end up in your tiny apartment anyway, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

The door opens at the same time you raise your hand to give it a knock. You take a step back and take in the scene. Nobody is on the other side. Weird.

A mass of warm air touches your face gently when you step into the living room. The smell of coffee, cinnamon and vanilla flies around and makes you look straight to the kitchen and dining room to your left, but they are empty, so you walk to the fireplace in front of you, taking a moment to appreciate its coziness while getting warm.

You decide to walk around and explore the other levels of the building, which, from what you saw until now, has no furniture except for the old blue Victorian couch.

Holding the rail, you go up the stairs, and see that the walls are filled with beautiful, but empty frames. At this point, you don’t even bother finding it weird anymore, after all, it’s a dream, but you wonder why there are no pictures and why your mind decided that the only pieces of decoration you see in this house of stone are simply not serving their purpose.

As you walk down the aisle of the first floor, you see 4 doors. Slowly, you try to open the first one to your left, just to find out it is locked. You try the one to your right and the two other doors after that. All locked. You huff.

“Why is this too boring?” you say out loud, as you turn around and direct yourself to the stairs to go to the second floor, only to hear a muffled female voice upstairs. Curious as you are, you run up in the direction of the voice, just to find the same set up of the floor below you, with the exception of a pulled down ladder at the end of the corridor, that led to what you can only assume is an attic, where the sound and the voices come from.

You walk with caution to the ladder and the sound is louder, but not clearer. It takes climbing the steps to realize that the female voice that is now screaming, is actually your own. You stop midway, your upper body just past the attic door,and search for the source of your own voice, just to realize a video is being projected on one of the ceiling walls. You recognize the scene of that dreadful day so many years ago when you got home after an early dismissal day, just to find your ex boyfriend with your best friend. This time though, you could see it through a different point of view, the exact moment when you started packing your bags to leave your old apartment.

“Where do you think you are going? Hey! Stop! We can talk through this” your ex said, while dressing himself up. You hear your old self let out an ironic laugh after that. You look at her, the shorter curly hair was a mess, the red eyes burning with anger and disappointment.

“Talk through this?” Past you screams, opening another drawer and just throwing clothes in a suitcase. “You must think I’m really that stupid to give you the time of the day after this. I don’t want to hear from you, I don’t want to see you. I wanna pack my things and go to the farthest place from you”.

“_________, this is your home. Calm down.”

“My home? My home? You should’ve thought about that before cheating on me at my fucking home on my fucking bed. I’ll come back to get the rest of my things when you’re not here.” You close your suitcase, and direct yourself to the front door. You turned, just in time to catch a sight of him and your so-called best friend getting dressed as well. "Please, don’t even bother, just keep doing whatever you were doing before. I’ll make sure I won’t interrupt you ever again.” And you walked out.

The video stopped after that and you were stunned. Talk about a dramatic event. You don’t understand why your subconscious wants you to remember that, especially now that you are actually healing. Maybe this is in fact a nightmare, and you were supposed to keep rewatching that infernal scene until you wake up.

You decide to go up the rest of the steps either way, whatever comes next, can’t be more painful than what you just watched. As you step into the room at the same time someone stands up and comes in your direction.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim.

“Hm, this never happened before” The one and only Min Yoongi mumbles, staring at you.

Right, you have never had a conscious dream about him where you could actually talk to him. But, considering that his documentary was the last thing you saw, it seems like his presence in your dream this time is not that weird. You stare back at him, his dark messy hair, puffy cat eyes and black hoodie. Your heart jumps through your shirt and that unexplainable feeling comes again.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Did you watch all of it?” You ask.

“I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve stopped when I saw what it was”

“I mean, it’s not actually your fault. It’s my subconscious.”

“Still…”

“It 's fine.” You look around, finding the film projector and another film reel on the side. “Interesting. What’s in the other film?”

“I don’t know. I only set the one we just watched.”

“We should watch the other one”

“I don’t know, I’ve already seen too much”

“It’s not like you are real”

“Not real?”

“Besides, I don’t think there was any other moment of my life more traumatic than that one. I’ll be fine” You say while taking the other film reel out of the projector and putting the new one. Yoongi doesn’t look too sure, but he directs himself to the pile of pillows on the floor and waits for the projection. As it starts, you sit by his side and focus on the wall in front of you.

It is a cloudy day and the dirty atmosphere of the city makes the scene look even grayer. You try to recognize the place, but it takes seeing a tall black haired boy to see that this wasn’t about you.

“I shouldn’t be seeing this” You say and make the mention of standing up before dream Yoongi holds your wrist gently and pulls you back.

“It’s only fair.” he says.

So you sit down and watch it with him.

A younger version of Min Yoongi leaves the door of a restaurant with bags of food on his hands, then proceeds to put the bags inside of a delivery box on a motorcycle. He wears his helmet, jumps on his bike and rides it around the city. He stops once. He stops another time. And you know what is coming, because you remember when Yoongi had the surgery, you remember seeing videos of him dancing in pain and you remember the lyrics of Amygdala, even if you only listened to that song a couple of times since the documentary release. You know the feeling of wanting your brain to erase the memories you so want to forget in order to move on. And even if it’s all in your head, it hurts to think of what happened to a human you love so much.

You stare at the dream version of Yoongi sitting by your side who has his glistening eyes fixed on the scene projected on the wall. With his lips closed in a line, he swallows thickly and you turn your attention to the movie again. And that’s when the scene unravels: The rain starts to pour and, as he is turning, a car hits young Min Yoongi, who falls on the road. You can’t help but feel your heart breaking into pieces as you watch the rain touching his face, it feels even worse when the scene is cut just to be substituted by flashes of Yoongi crying, in pain, and taking what seemed like an unhealthy amount of pills. If only you could change the past to comfort him. You’d do anything so he wouldn’t have to go through this kind of pain again.

“Was that what really happened?” You question, almost whispering.

“Exactly like that” the man by your side responds, then proceeds “What I saw... Did it really happen to you too?”

“Yes, but, for what is worth, you really helped me through it, it doesn’t hurt anymore” you look at the version of Min Yoongi in front of you, and think of everything you’ve learned about him through his songs and through the documentary of the day before. You are conscious this is not real, even if it feels like it, but you also know you will never have a chance to say to the real Yoongi what you wish to say, so you take a chance in this parallel dream reality, or whatever this is.

“ I know this is all in my head, and there are so many things I’d like to say, but, I just want you to know that if I could go back in time and help you through all of the pain you felt, I would. I know it doesn’t change it, but I really wish you’d know that. I wish I could’ve saved you, too, Yoongi” you stop and see the corner of his lips curve slightly. “I guess this was a weird thing to say out loud” cover your face with your two hands and a muffled groan leaves your lips.

“No, no, no… it’s not weird” He turns his body completely to you. “I don’t know if you’d believe me, or if anyone would believe me, but you did.”

“I did?!”

“You saved me in so many ways”

Your head turns in the direction of his voice immediately. And all you can see is a kind smile and bright eyes. You can’t help but feel that old familiar warmth all over your body, and as much as you wouldn’t like to indulge in delusion, at that moment, you pretended it was all real.

And just like it started, you’re pulled from deep inside your subconscious to you tiny apartment in New York City, where the ringing of your alarm clock announced the start of a new spring day.

To be continued…

Chapter 2

February 2023

“…So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee…” you read.

“This is one of my favorites, and one of the most famous Shakespearean sonnets. You guys already know how much I love words but in this sonnet…” you pause with a sigh. “I feel so happy reading it, it took Shakespeare only 14 verses to explain how powerful and everlasting words are. Can you imagine how extraordinary it would feel to be the muse of a piece of work like this? I don’t want to go crazy over this, but how beautiful is that? And to see that he was indeed right, the poem does give life to his beloved muse, it makes me want to cry. How beautiful is that? Just think about it?!”

“Ms. _______, you are fangirling over poetry again” one of the students says.

“Well, it is my profession after all! I am also a fan of so many things, it’s the way I function!” You laugh. “But you guys need to agree, it’s beautiful. You should think about writing a sonnet like this to your Valentines next year… Does anyone want to comment on their first impressions of this piece before we go deep into our analysis?”

The students were ready to give their opinions when the bell rang, announcing your lesson was over and stopping the discussion from happening. The backpacks and chairs in the classroom combined in a messy, hustled melody created by your high schoolers. It was the end of the school day, after all.

“ Well, it’s nice to end the day with a hook. Please read Sonnet 18 one more time and write a short comment about it in your reading journals. We’ll discuss it in the next class. Enjoy your Valentine’s day, everybody!”

One by one, the students left the room, leaving you alone with the mess of the classroom. As usual, you organized the desks and chairs for the next day, erased the white board, turned the electronics off and put away all of the supplies in the cabinet. You only left out your pencil case and the piles of assignments to grade. It was Tuesday, but the faster you start grading, the easier your Friday will be. Even though being a teacher means that you eventually (or always) take work home, you made yourself a rule that you’d avoid working during your weekends. Also, no teacher wants to grade anything on a Friday afternoon. It’s not like you have anything to do on Valentine’s day, either way.

You directed your attention to the desk and a huff left your body as you thought about the few hours of unpaid work you had ahead of you. You didn’t know if the gray Tuesday made your situation worse or better. You tried to see it with a positive attitude: at least you wouldn't spend the next few hours inside, admiring a perfect sunny day through the windows of your classroom.

Before sitting down to start grading, you got your phone and your airpods in your bag, you didn’t bother to turn the airplane mode off, and, to be honest, that was probably the best option if you wanted to really focus on your work. A playlist of your favorite songs is the one selected for the occasion. You put your phone away, grab your green pen and start.

When The Truth Untold started, you were halfway through grading. You couldn’t help thinking of how unlucky you were. BTS came into your life only during the pandemic, which meant no concerts, but lots of content and late night meme videos and Korean lessons that distracted and helped you when you needed the most. When the concerts finally happened in the US, you were out of the country to complete part of your Masters in Literature in England. It was more than a dream come true, from visits to the Globe to visits to the lakes and all of the places your favorite authors and characters saw long before. It felt bittersweet. The timing was just wrong, and now, it felt like the chances of seeing all seven of them just escaped through your fingers. All you could do was wait. Wait until the seven of them come back, and trust them. It was hard, but was there another option?

Just fans understand how hard it is.

Alright, you need to focus on the grading.

The playlist kept going as you corrected and graded and wrote comments in each of the papers, carefully analyzing the work of your students. Every once in a while, you’d laugh at how they expressed their opinions on their essays. How fun their snarky comments were! The piles of paper were organized into folders. Thankfully, in less than three hours, the work was finally done, (until the next time, which will probably happen sooner than what you want.) It’s half of the week, and finally time to go home.

Winter was unusually warm this year. Still, the short walk from the school to the subway station felt longer because of the cold air. It wasn’t too cold, but it wasn’t comfortable either. The hot mass of air that embraces you as you enter the station is welcomed, at least during the colder seasons. The station was packed, it’s always a struggle when it’s peak time, but on days like this, when the busy people of the city go out to dinner to celebrate the existence of their love life, it is just the worst. When the train came, you found a spot where you could stay, close enough to the door so you could leave it three stations later.

You hope there is a seat for you in the Q train that will take you to Brooklyn. Deep down, you know it’s hopeless. At 6 pm Times Square station is filled with both New Yorkers and tourists. You could differentiate them easily, from their clothes to the kind of demeanor they have. The empty eyes were usually the giveaway whether someone was a New Yorker or not. You hoped you had the same curious eyes you had when you first moved to NYC for college, but you understand that, as much as you love the city and all it means to you and your journey, routine takes some of the magic away. Right now, you bet your face gives away your exhaustion too, if there’s someone watching you, you’re sure they know you live here.

People watching was your favorite pastime during your commuting time: imagining what each one of those people was like, their dreams and hopes, if they had any. Today, you could see a considerable amount of bouquets in the train, and it makes your imagination go wild imagining what expects these people once they get to their destination. You try not to get caught while you look at them for the next 30 minutes, then, you leave the train and walk home.

You were fumbling in your bag in a failed attempt to find your keys when the door of your apartment slammed opened.

“Where the hell were you?” Your roommate demanded.

“At the school, Cami.” You answered as you took your shoes off and went inside.

“ Why weren’t you answering your phone? I called so many times.”

“I was grading papers”

“On Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s not like I have a date”

“______ you seriously need to do a better job at answering your phone” she huffed. “I was freaking out here”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? Is my family okay? It was in airplane mode and I just didn’t care to check it after I left the classroom.”

“Everybody is okay. Well, emotionally I’m definitely not okay. I’ve been freaking out here since I got home from work. Seriously, we need to communicate better so we can actually leave school together, we can grade here! Why do you have to stay there so late anyways? I needed to talk to you and You. Weren’t. Answering.” She paused. “Why am I freaking out? It’s not like it’s something I care about. Oh my God! Maybe I care about it because you care about it." Camila pointed at you. "What is happening to me?! Am I literally freaking out on Valentine’s day because of a tour of a guy that I’m not even interested in? I promise I won’t be alone for Valentine's day next year, I need a date to look forward to instead of getting crazy over a K-pop man. This is the worst day of my life!” Camila rambled while pacing in the living room

“Did you say tour?”

“Seriously? That’s all you heard?!”

“You were saying so many things”

“Alright, sit, and please, I am begging you to turn the airplane mode off”

You do as she says, and as soon as your phone connects to the wifi, hundreds of notifications pop on your screen, including notifications from the Weverse app. Your heart jumps. One of the members of BTS on tour? You opened the app.

SUGA | Agust D TOUR

“What?” Your voice was so low you could barely hear it.

“Why are you so calm? Isn’t he the whole reason why you are a BTS fan?” Camila pauses to massage her temples. "Why am I freaking out? Isn’t he the guy you dream about all the time? ”

Yes, he is. You thought. The one and only Min Yoongi. The reason why you became an ARMY in the first place.

Turns out, the mysterious guy from your dreams back in 2020 was real. You've dreamt of him so many times before finding out he was actually a living person and not a figment of your imagination.

After the first time dreaming about him, you were washed with a sense of comfort you couldn’t quite understand. The crying over your ex had gotten better with each dream, simply because the feeling of seeing him in your sleep made you feel happy the whole day and forget anything else.

You could see him… Writing, laughing with the most precious smile, reading, recording at the studio, and at last… playing the piano. A real piano. The first time you heard him, though, he looked younger, but you could still see the same focus and the same passion as he played each note so beautifully. That morning of quarantine, almost a month after the first dream, you woke up with the urge to cry from how mighty the scene was. The warmth of the presence of the boy in the piano was already a familiar feeling, but actually listening to his music? Ah, you wanted to stay in that scenario forever. You hummed the song throughout the day, you asked Camila if she knew that melody, just so you could listen to it again. You thought about that the whole time, until you remembered how technology existed and you could just hum the melodies to your cell phone.

It was a BTS song.

And so you listened to that sweet piano melody, and heard him rapping for the first time. And searched for the names of the guys in the band. And finally, you saw the face of that mysterious man on your phone screen. It was weird that you dreamed of an actual person that turned out to produce music before knowing the person actually existed, right? Why you were dreaming about a korean idol and why it made you feel so content was a mystery to you. You tried not to dwell on that, realizing this was the way the universe sent BTS to you, when you needed it the most. And slowly, moving on from your trauma was easier. Letting your ex-boyfriend go was getting simpler each day. You finished that letter (Was it a letter or a novel? With the amount of pages you wrote, you didn’t even know anymore) and just let it go. Yoongi helped you, the boys helped you, and they didn’t even know.

Sometimes when you watch stuff, you get washed with the sense of deja vu. But it is what it is. Yoongi keeps popping in your dreams from time to time, you started to write about him and you irresistibly became an ARMY. How could you not?

“Earth to ______'' Camila snapped her fingers in front of your face “ I thought you’d scream! For God’s sake, I did! Why aren’t you freaking out when I am? You are the fan!”

“Sorry, Cami, I just don’t know how to react. You know how much they all mean to me. But with him… I just can’t believe I’ll finally have the chance to see him” your eyes burned filled with tears.

“Oh, amiga… We will try all we can to get you the best tickets. You will see him play the piano in front of you. I know how much this means to you, how much you changed after you became a fan. I will make sure it happens. I promise.”

You looked at your friend, sitting by your side on the pink couch you insisted on buying for your living room.

“You can’t control that, Cami”

“I can’t, but I will sign up for the pre-sale with as many email accounts as I can. I will even buy the membership thing.”

“ You sound like a fan”

“Well, if he helps you so much, maybe I should be a fan, do you think one of them could visit me in my sleep too? I bet it would be fun” She jokes.

“I wish I could talk to him, even in my dreams”

“When you go to the concert, he will look at you and you guys will fall in love”

“Cami, this is not fanfiction”

“Are you really quoting me right now? Well, I will create my own fanfiction if I want to. Nothing’s impossible. It would be great, then next year you won’t be alone for Valentine’s day. Maybe we can go on a double date, cause next year I’ll definitely have someone.”

“I’m not alone, you are literally in front of me”

“You know the kind of alone I’m talking about. Now, let’s make our Galentine’s dinner. I saw this recipe of spinach gnocchi that seems very easy. I want to try it tonight. Then, we’ll have a date with Mr. Darcy.”

“Camila, have I told you that I love you?”

“Te quiero, amiga, but you better answer your phone next time”

🪷🪷🪷

After squealing during the entirety of “Pride and Prejudice”, you called it a night and went to your room. It was late, but you couldn’t stop yourself from checking all of the details of the announcement and texting your ARMY friends back.

It felt surreal. That your bias will go on a tour. That you’ll finally have the chance of seeing one of them. Excitement was an understatement. You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage. You needed to sleep now, but your whole body was already buzzing with anticipation of going to the concert, of seeing Yoongi in front of you in real life.

Instead, you open the Weverse live and watch it. You pay attention as he talks about Slam Dunk and shares about Fashion Week. You worry when he said he hasn’t eaten, you smile with him once you see his reaction to the tour announcement coming out. You are washed with a wave of love for the artist on the screen.

“It’s not good to be delusional, _______” you say out loud. But you are not sleepy enough right now, and it was indeed Valentine’s day, so your imagination starts making up alternate realities of what could’ve been. You get your dear journal and write a poem, a confession.

“Let’s see each other in person, Yoongi” That’s what you hope and pray for.

🪷🪷🪷

Yoongi POV

Yoongi woke up on that Wednesday with that fuzzy feeling on his chest again. He knew this was getting too weird for his own good, there was no way dreaming about a random person he had never seen in his life was a normal thing.

Three years ago, he thought seeing a woman crying while writing was just a way his brain found to deal with his own creative process and the frustrations coming with it. But the story was getting too complex, the scenes were getting too detailed. There’s no way he knew sonnet 18 by Shakespeare by heart to create that kind of scene. He didn’t even know it by heart in Korean!

He couldn’t complain. He was nervous about his solo tour and his album and seeing her in his dreams gave him a warm sensation of calmness. He hasn’t heard her voice many times, so listening to the teacher in his dreams reading that poem with such devotion made him happy. He closed his eyes, still in bed, trying to replay it in his mind. The big smile and kind eyes shining so bright while talking about the sonnet with so much passion… His heart shrinks a little, the good kind of pain, he wishes he could see her for real, if she’s real. She must be. She has to.

He knew that feeling wouldn’t leave him, even if he tried, the warmth, the pull and the want to see her one more time. This would follow him for the rest of the day and he was getting used to it after such a long time.

He didn’t know what to do. Yoongi knew people would say he’s crazy if he dared to talk about this out loud. So, he resorted to his old friends, the yellow notepad and the pencil. And just like the other times she followed him in his mind, he wrote her another song.

To be continued.

Chapter 1

Wake up. Teach. Eat. Plan. Overthink. Cry. Sleep.

Repeat.

You didn’t know how your life turned out to be like this. You hated it. You hated the city streets were empty. You hated that the principal kept watching each lesson just to criticize your teaching.You hated teaching online and how burned out you were because of it. You hated not being able to see your friends, or what’s left of them. You hated that fucking virus that postponed all of your plans. You hated how much you missed your cheating ex and that traitor you once called best friend.

Everything sucks in 2020.

At first, it seemed like it was just for a while, which also meant a good break before the craziness that came with Spring and the end of the school year. Two months after the government announced the quarantine, you were burned out, rethinking life choices, crying yourself to sleep because of a break up you thought you had moved on from. Your roommate and coworker Camila was the only good thing. She became a nice friend who could relate to you. Both of you were just two tired teachers trying to survive in New York City during a pandemic. The growing friendship you had made it bearable. When nights were especially hard for you and you’d sob and cry at 3 am, your friend wouldn’t say a thing, only to greet you with open arms, a mug of hot coffee, and a silent promise of ice cream and movies after dinner. You didn’t deserve it, considering you were the reason she’d wake up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t hold it against you, and you were grateful for that.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you shouldn’t be crying for a relationship that finished two years ago. It was hard not to, especially now that there wasn’t much, besides work, to keep you busy. It was the last week of May, Summer was just around the corner and you yearned for the joy the season brings. At the same time, shaking off the feelings that came with the isolation was not an easy feat. He cheated on you with your best friend, after all! You tell yourself he doesn’t deserve your tears, but it takes time to erase things like that.

You are lonely and confused, angry to feel the way you felt. Grieving the youth you’re giving away while staying at home. So, on that night of May, you did what you should’ve done 2 years ago. You got your blue journal, a pencil, bursted your earbuds with the saddest songs you could find, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wrote.

The words spilled from your mind to the paper, a letter addressed to the one who made you feel like this. How you met, how you became friends, the moment you realized you loved him. The memories you wanted to erase flowing so easily through your hands. The story was kept in your head for so long, suffocating you a little bit every day, it was like you could exhale for the first time. How you missed this!

You were so focused on revisiting all of the moments to write, that you didn’t check the time. It was late, so late. And you needed to sleep now if you wanted to have energy for the long day of teaching you had ahead of you.

You checked the amount of words you’ve written. Seven pages. It was still just the beginning. Your eyes were red and wet and you got yourself a headache. As cathartic as it was to write like this, it had left you with zero to no energy to keep going. As you were embraced by your sleep, you wished the part of your brain that processed traumatic experiences just did its job.

That night, you dream of a man and a piano.

Not exactly a piano, it was more like a keyboard.

All you could see was that he was making music.

The room was compact, so much it didn’t look like a room. “Maybe he’s camping”, you thought. There was a bunk bed and a tiny table underneath it, which was where he was working with a yellow notepad and pencil positioned close to the laptop. His pale skin was in contrast with the black straight hair covering part of his face. Still, you were able to see some of his facial expressions. He was so concentrated in his craft, long fingers testing notes in the mini keyboard connected to his laptop.

You wish you could listen to the melody he is so focused on, he was clearly showing signs of conflict, while listening to it on his headphones. He throws his head back and breathes loudly, like he needs a break, the hair moves out of his face and you can see his eyes now. Deep, dark, catlike eyes.

Oh God. He 's beautiful.

You could feel a pull, an inexplicable warmth inside of you… You were curious about him. You were curious about the circumstances. Why were you consciously dreaming about a man you have never seen in your life? Why aren’t you in this dream? How could he fascinate you so much in minutes?

A door opens and there’s light in the room. You hear a voice speaking a language you don’t understand. You hear a deep voice, his voice, replying in the same language. Then, everything goes black.

You were pulled out of the dream, eyes open, back in your room, but with remains of the comforting warmth inside of you.

It stayed with you the whole day, just like the memory of the boy making music.

That night, the crying is not that loud, your writing process still hard, but not unbearable.

You were still tired, still heartbroken. The routine was the same.

But there was that warm feeling in your chest. And as your head touches the pillow in the middle of the night, you hope to dream of him again.