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20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 6

“The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.” ― Rachel Vincent, My Soul to Save

DAY SIX: Now, recall your muse’s worst memory in great detail.  What do they hate so much about it? Why can’t they forget about it?

It was a Saturday evenings, the sky a blanket of navy blue, slowly darkening to black as pricks of light appeared, few and far between, minuscule rays next to the largest star of them all, casting a white glow upon the land below. The city spread out before him, as he stood with his small hands clutching the windowsill, lights flicking on and off like fireflies in the night. 

The lights had been dimmed, only a lamp against the wall left on as patients readied themselves for slumber. Taehyung’s mother sat beside the hospital bed, shoulder hunched, his father’s hand clutched tightly between her own, and if if she held on tight enough she could keep him there with her, but it wasn’t his body that was leaving them, it was his soul, and as desperately as Taehyung wished he could hold onto his fathers soul, tied it to himself and keep it safe until his body was a safe enough habitat for it once again - he couldn’t, and even at the age of six, he understood that. 

Lifting a hand to the cold metal cross pendant that hung around his neck, fingers tracing along every edge and corner, before he turned his head, eyes casting over his father, eyes closed, skin pale, wires leading off of him, attaching him to countless machines. They said it was his heart that was failing him. 

Taehyung wanted nothing more than to give his father his own, to help him live again - but he also knew that wasn’t possible either. 

So drawing his gaze back out over the city, he leant forward, pressing his forehead to the cool glass, eyes falling closed and he embraced the chill that seeped through from the winter night just on the other side, clawing its way inside. Drawing in the frozen air, wincing as it stung on his teeth, he released a long drawn out, hot breath over the glass, watching as it fogged, condensed from the breath that kept his own heart beating.

With a small hand he raised his index finger to the glass, tracing lines into the condensation, and though he wasn’t the best artist, his stick figures were distinguishable. His mother stood to the left, hair long, dressed in a triangle, his father to the right, taller, a smile on his lips. Between them stood Taehyung, small, with his same mess of hair atop his circle head. Each stick figures arms were linked, just as their family was. Connected permanently. 

He dropped his hand, and for the first time in weeks he smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. It was a sad smile, because as his hand dropped the beeping evened out, a constant clawing sound, followed mere seconds later by a choked sob from his mother. 

20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 5

“Sometimes," he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see. ” ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

DAY FIVE: Recall your muse’s greatest memory in great detail. Why do they consider it so great? What did they like so much about it?

Taehyung remembers the time he climbed to the very top of the tallest tree in his garden, the leaves brushing against his bare, slightly sun-kissed skin (from the summer sun), as he gazed out over the city of Daegu. Taehyung, though clumsy, would never let himself fall from this height, he was a lot more careful when this high up, so he kept a firm grip on the tree as he let his eyes linger of the buildings in the distance. 

It was all so peaceful, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon, bathing the sky with a warm orange glow as it fell, slowly giving way to the bright moon on the other side of Taehyung, smaller, rising into the sky surrounded by stars. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat up there in the branches of the tree, but he watched the moon rise into the sky, before making his way down in the light of the room, hands gripping fast as he descended. 

20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 4

“Parents were the only ones obligated to love you; from the rest of the world you had to earn it.” ― Ann Brashares, Forever in Blue: The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood

DAY FOUR: What is your muse’s definition of family? Do they consider family blood-based, friend-based, or both? Include people or places that will fit the description.  If your muse can’t answer the third part, then what is their ideal family like?

Taehyung’s family was a perfect one, until his father died and a dark cloud enveloped them - no amount of faked smiles or words of reassurance from his mother could make the loss seem any less painful. Nevertheless, Taehyung’s family was one he had, and would always cherish - family, to him, was his mother, and his deceased father. 

His mother with her tight, warm hugs, pulling Taehyung close and whispering that it would be okay to him as she stroked his hair - that was family. 

Taehyung’s father, with the way he’d pull Taehyung into his lap and tell him stories, usually funny ones, to make Taehyung smile and laugh, or when he’d chase him around the yard, or play hide-n-seek with him, or games of soccer. That was family. 

20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 3

“Tell him to seek the stars and he will kill himself with climbing.” ― Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966

DAY THREE: What does your muse aspire to be in the future after Mugunghwa University? What are their dreams and do they think they will be able to ever fulfill that wish? If your muse cannot answer this, then describe why? For teachers and faculty members, if your muse hadn’t got accepted as staff at Mugunghwa University, then what would they be doing?

Dreams had always been something Taehyung thought a lot about, however he’d never been able to pinpoint anything. He’d never been able to grab onto a dream and yank it out into the light, polish it and let it shine and sparkle beneath his fingertips. Dreams, for Taehyung, remained as wisps of smoke, impossible to capture and nurture. In that sense, he’d never been able to decide on what he wanted to do with his life, other than attempt to fix himself. 

He knew he wanted to be happy - that was his main priority, because right now, it wasn’t certain that he’d stay happy, he’d stay calm, out of jail or alive. Everything remained uncertain when he bathed in such dangerous waters, playing with the sharks while sporting an open wound. He was reckless, and then he was sad. Ridding himself of the sadness was his main priority. 

He’d thought a few times about pursuing theater, being in shows, or films - acting, he enjoyed it. Or being an artist, but then he realised how little it would pay, and he needed to be able to feed himself to be happy. He couldn’t make a living out of climbing - as much as he wished he could. 

20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 2

“Grown ups are complicated creatures, full of quirks and secrets.” ― Roald Dahl

DAY TWO: Describe your muse’s childhood in great detail.  What is their opinion on it, are they satisfied of their roots and upbringings? Have they kept anything from their childhood (i.e. favorite toy, jewelry from one or both of their parents, letters, etc.)  If they could change their childhood, what would they make it be like?  Would they change anything at all? Why or why not? If your muse cannot recall their childhood experiences, then what do they think it was like? What would be their ideal childhood?

The start of Taehyung’s life, for many, was enviable. His mother and father were deeply in love, and he was the light of their life. As an only child the attention was solely placed on him, however he managed to stay unspoiled, living by reasonable family rules and learning to love life, as his father did. The first few years were peaceful bliss for the family, however after Taehyung’s father’s death everything changed. His mother lost the twinkle in her eye, her smile never quite reaching them. But she kept trying - for Taehyung. Taehyung however had the worst of the blast it seemed, not only had he lost his father, his role model, his sanity seemed to have slithered away somewhat with the soul of the man. 

Taehyung’s father had always worn a silver cross necklace under his shirt. This necklace he gave to Taehyung as he lay in his hospital bed, telling him to keep it safe for him - so Taehyung had worn the necklace constantly for almost thirteen years. There wasn’t much he’d kept from his childhood other than that and a teddy bear he’d had since before he could talk, named Goguma because of it’s somewhat sweet potato coloured fur. 

20 DAYS OF MGH : DAY 1

“I actually stopped talking. I actually listened. So I knew that I wasn't all the way manic, because when you're all the way manic you never listen to anybody but yourself.” ― Terri Cheney

DAY ONE: Let’s start out with the basics: Introduce yourself! Don’t just give your name, age, and year—We want you to really introduce yourself. Give us not only your name, but your birthplace and hobbies as well. Likes and dislikes? Why did your muse choose the major(s)/minor(s) that they have now and would they like to change them?  What attracted them to Mugunghwa University?

Taehyung was born to an exceedingly normal family on December 30th, 1996. With a loving mother and a loud, jovial father, the backbone of the Kim household, bringing light to their little home in Daegu. However the happy family quickly dissipated into a distraught mother having lost her other half, and a boy who’d lost his role model. Taehyung would forever link the start of his suffering to his fathers death, though not in a way that put his father to blame, but a somewhat constant reminder of his loss. 

Taehyung enjoys climbing. He’ll climbs trees, buildings, even statues. Anything that can be used as apparatus for his climbing adventures, he’ll most likely try. And though he may not always come away in the best condition, he has yet to break anything from a fall. Scrapes and scratches not unfamiliar to the boy he often turns up at a friends pestering them to help him clean up his millions of scrapes. He likes climbing because the higher he goes the smaller the world feels, and the more in control he feels, almost like a god, sitting high above the world, watching everything happen below. 

When choosing the subjects he’d study in University it didn’t take the boy long to decide on Theater as a major, and Fine Arts as a minor. He’d always been one for expression, in both movements and art. He found expressing emotions realistically in theater easy, having been on both the highest place on earth, and in the lowest pits of hell. Art as simply putting the things in his head on paper, canvas or board. He’d draw, and paint, and destroy and rebuild - anything that relieved him of the pressure on the inside of his skull. 

There was a simple reason as to why Taehyung had been interested in Mugunghwa, and that was simply the fact he’d always loved horror and thriller movies, and the University seemed to be teeming with the whispers of deaths and murders and disappearances - he was intrigued, and acting on reckless impulse he’d applied-

Staring out over the patch of flowers, surprisingly miserable looking for the middle of the summer, he sighed, feeling the soft patter of rain against his head. Sometimes Sulli said the strangest, though prettiest soundings things. They never failed to catch his attention, however he didn’t look over at her, simply keeping his eyes trained on the way a tiny daisy vibrated every time a particularly heavy raindrop landed on its petals, gently swaying in the light breeze. 

“It’s a shame, I think that’d be rather pretty - don’t you?” His voice was light, though the usual deep tone held strong. He pictured it, velvety white rose petals glowing in a gentle sunlight, the light breeze remaining, minus the biting chill to it. The image of Sulli in a white dress, wandering through the flowers flit through his mind. She’d look pretty in white, with her red lips and dark hair. 

”Isn’t this exactly where you’d like me?”

A slight childish pout settled on Taehyung’s lips as he watched Jimin settle himself exactly in the center of his bed, hands behind his head and smug smile on his lips - an expression Taehyung was all to familiar with. Grumbling under his breath, Taehyung closed the gap between himself and the bed with only two small steps, before reaching a hand out to nudge at Jimin’s side. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Taehyung to find himself sliding into someone’s bed for the night, rather more often than his own bed, he found. Jimin, being his next door neighbor, had to deal with Taehyung the most often during his high periods. Taehyung found it hard to sleep during mania episodes, his brain running a mile a minute, desperate to do things - but he knew he needed sleep, even if he brain was fighting with him on that matter. 

So, once again he was joining Jimin in bed for the next, his own fuzzy blanket clutched tight around his shoulders almost like a cape. But Jimin, as usual, was being annoying. 

After only a minute of nudging Taehyung gave up and simply climbed onto the bed, laying flat atop the shorter male, head resting on his collar bone, blanket slung over the both of them. 

Jimin deserved being squashed, in return for being annoying at stupid hours of the night when Taehyung was already fighting with himself - he didn’t feel like fighting with anyone else. 

”I wouldn’t be caught dead in this place.”

“Why? Because it’s a strip club? Or because it’s a gay strip club?” Eyebrow raised, Taehyung looked over to his friend, hand already on the swinging door leading into the small building that somewhat resembled a rather modest theater. He wouldn’t exactly call himself a frequent visitor, but he’d been once or twice. 

There was a far better strip club nearby, with both male and female...dancers? However they had been closed down for renovation, and Taehyung felt like having fun, as usual. 

It was a little too much to ask that the girl forget she ever saw him tumbling from the sloped roof, down onto a large rubbish bin, before falling out onto the hard concrete ground. Of course, the image of a 5′10 male falling off of  a roof in rather a comical manner wouldn’t be forgotten easily, and the words that followed his plea for her to pretend she hadn’t seen him, were ones that, he realised, were truthful. 

He’d have a damn lot of bruises after this. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung wasn’t a makeup artist - he barely knew what mascara was, for years having believed it to be some sort of diarrhea medicine. The bruises would have to stay uncovered, however he was pretty sure the only visible one would blossom around the scrape on his left cheekbone from his tumble out of the large metal bin, sliding down the trash bags, like a dark, plastic ski slope. 

"The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is press coverage."

"Oh, we’re still so young, desperate for attention."

”If you talk you better walk, you better back your shit up.”

”And with the way you’ve been talking, every word gets you a step closer to hell.”

”I am alone in this bed, house, and head.”

”This was no accident.”

”This was a therapeutic chain of events.”

”It sure as hell ain’t normal, but we deal.”

”Just sit back and relax.”

”You’re a regular decorated emergency.”

”The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake.”

”You’ve earned a place atop the ICU’s hall of fame.”

"You’re pulling the trigger all wrong."

”Come on, this is screaming ‘Photo op.’”

”Is it still me that makes you sweat?”

”Am I who you think about in bed?”

”I’ve got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy/girl you’ll ever meet.”

”Isn’t this exactly where you’d like me?”

”I’m afraid that I— well, I may have faked it.”

”I wouldn’t be caught dead in this place.”

”What a beautiful wedding!”

”What a shame the poor groom’s bride is a whore.”

”Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?”

”Well I’ll look at it this way, I mean technically our marriage is saved.”

"If you’re gonna preach, for God sakes preach with conviction!”

”Don’t you get it, don’t you get it?”

”I’m wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.”

”When you’re in black slacks with accentuating off-white pinstripes, everything goes according to plan.”

”I bet you just can’t keep up with these fashionistas.”

"It just doesn’t feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.”

"Build God, then we’ll talk."

”The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just a dash of formaldehyde.”

”What a wonderful caricature of intimacy.”

There were times when Taehyung wondered exactly what he’d been thinking when he did something, which seemed to be rather a large majority of the time - he was forever regretting decisions made when feeling on top of the world, or stuck in the pits of a dreary hell. There were very few right decisions Taehyung had made within his life. 

This was not one of them. 

The cell bars felt cool against the side of his face, chilling his rather heated skin. He was still just coming down from the buzz he’d gotten from the evenings activities, even if, now, he realised just how stupid about eighty percent of the ideas he’d gone ahead with were. This position, knees curled to his chest and head resting against the long thin poles of metal wasn’t unfamiliar to Taehyung - he was rather ashamed by the amount of times he’d ended up there. 

Of course the heightened feeling had fluctuated, peaking at around eight, only three hours prior to his current predicament and leading him out into the cool night air, in search of something fun to do. 

Taehyung had always had an interest in heights, especially from roofs. He liked to watch the world pass by below, wondering whether everyone down below him, passing by and going about their daily lives, were all distinctly different, and just how many of them were like him. He found fascination in pondering the human race as he sat from his height, watching the world go by - it was one of the only times Taehyung felt somewhat normal, peaceful, still. 

He sat completely still as the world below never stopped, never slept, always moving, changing. 

It was this slight obsession with the need to feel that sweet serenity that had led Taehyung to the roof of a rather tall house, perched almost in the center of town. With the height there was the gentle calm, mixed in with the adrenaline of knowing, if he placed one foot wrongly, he could fall. In his defense he hadn’t seen the sign, nestled behind a bush, reading ‘Trespassers will be fined’. 

“Want to call someone?” The voice, deep and brusque drew Taehyung from his reverie, one eye opening to peer up at the tall, broad shouldered man. 

The question brought just one name to mind, the name of someone he knew wouldn’t hesitate to pay him out of here. 

Jonghyun. 

With the receiver held tightly in his hand, pressed against his ear he let his eyes sweep over the guard sat near the door, lounging back in an uncomfortable looking chair. The ringing went on for so long that Taehyung wondered whether the elder would pick up, but then the ringing stopped and he spoke before the other could even get in a ‘hello’.