#faftranslation

Seokjin 30 August YEAR 22

She seemed flustered when she thought she lost her diary. Her favourite movie, her favourite place to go, her favorite flowers to even her dreams appear on every future page being turned. It was something that I had done for her. The words ‘Sorry’ didn’t come out easily. The red diary laid between us at the intersection.

I wanted to give her happiness. I wanted to make her laugh. I wanted to be someone she would like. I thought that if I followed the words in the diary, I would be that person. But that wasn’t the case. I became more scared when I became someone else. I really don’t want to be caught (for being me). I don’t want disappointment to follow afterwards. Desperately, I turned my head away to hide myself. But just as one cannot put a full stop to a sentence without subject, the me who could not improve himself and continued to wander in the same place.

Now, I know. The me who lacks, makes mistakes and fails is all part of me afterall. No matter how cruel or how merciless things are, by being true to myself would I, only be able to move forward. I stood up from my position and she didn’t try to grab me.

I walked out to the street and removed my hat. As I run my fingers through my hair, all the time spent trying to be someone else slipped through my fingers. I lifted my head and saw my reflection in the mirror. A frail face, pale lips and thin shoulders. I looked unkempt. I laughed. The me in the mirror laughed too.

25 June YEAR 19

A flower pot was by the window in the storage classroom, with its owner being unknown. Who among my dongsaengs would bring this flowerpot? I took out my handphone. The classroom was always dark since there wasn’t any electricity and with the vague light coming in through the dirty window, I could see the green leaves outside. The photo I took by my phone didn’t come out well. It wasn’t just because it was taken by a handphone. I always thought that photos cannot capture what can be seen by the eyes.

As I approached, I could see a ‘H’ underneath the flower pot. I lifted it up. The words ‘Hoseok’s flower pot’ appeared. I chuckled. Of course, no one else among the dongsaengs except for Hoseok who would bring a flower pot. I put the flower pot down so that only the ‘H’ would be visible. Until now, never once have I noticed but the windows were scribbled all over. Not just the windowsill, but the ceiling as well. “Pass or Die”.The names of crushes. dates, and numerous names that can’t be read.

This classroom wasn’t used for storage in the beginning. Students would every day go to class and then in the afternoons, they would empty them. It would have been empty during school vacations and then filled again once school started. Would there have been students like us who were late and received punishments and ended up missing class? Would there have been merciless violent teachers and endless tests and homework? Also, would there have been someone like me? Someone who told on their friends to the principal.

I wondered if my father’s name might have been among these. This place was also my father’s alma mater. My father was someone who believed that by attending the same higih school, the same college was a wat of preserving the family’s dignity. I scanned all the names and found my father’s one. It was in the middle of the left wall amongst several others. Underneath, a sentence was written. “Everything started from here.”

Yoongi 29 July YEAR 22

What was the reason that the melody kept coming to me after I lost the person who practiced with me and played the guitar? Laying buried on the couch, I stared at the piano that was a distance away. After being expelled from school, I threw away my mother’s piano key. It was the only thing that I had taken from the ruins of the burned building, it was half burned and I threw it out of the apartment window. I thought that would end it. I told myself again the promise that I would never touch a piano ever again.

Early in the morning, I took the stairs because I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I thought I had fallen asleep quickly but the sun was already rising. Suddenly, memories of last night came back to me. There was nothing in the flowerbed outside the window. The security guard told me that the garbage truck had come not too long ago. That was how I lost my mother’s piano key.

Even after that, I gave up on music countlessly. Now I won’t. I won’t come back, music is nothing, yet as I tried to run away, I knew. I knew that I would start music again, the same way as I stumbled down the stairs. Music was that kind of subject to me. In music, I was just as free as I was suffering, confused but also lucid, fear and confidence, hope and despair, as if I was living inside all those conflicting emotions.

Suddenly, I wanted to play the piano. Inside it, I wanted to meet me who only pretended to be strong, even though in reality, I was fearful and a coward. I wanted to pour out curses and sarcasm, give wounds and hit and destroy and pull and cry. And I didn’t want to run away. I wanted to complete the melody that was made by the guitar and piano. This time, it seemed like I could.

11 April YEAR 22

I kept on walking, though I had a sense that Jungkook was following from a distance. As the train tracks stretched out, containers continued to appear. It’s the 4thcontainer from the back. Hoseok said he had plans to meet with Namjoon and Taehyung, and told me to come too. I told him I would come, but I didn’t really intend to go. I hated getting involved with others and Hoseok knew that. He probably didn’t have any thoughts of me turning up.

When I opened the door, I could see Hoseok’s surprised face. Then he discovered Jungkook and approached him with mixed emotions. I passed by both of them and headed to the container. “How long has it been?” I could hear the sounds of Hoseok trying to pull Jungkook and Jungkook being embarrassed.

I could hear Namjoon bringing Taehyung in. Taehyung’s shirt was torn on one side. When we asked what happened, Namjoon pretended to rap his knuckles against Taehyung. “This brat was late because he was arrested by the police for doing graffiti and I had to go pick him up.” Taehyung made an exaggerated apologetic face and talked animatedly how his shirt was torn when he ran away from the police.

I sat in the corner and watched them. Namjoon gave Taehyung a shirt to change into, Hoseok pulled out hamburgers and drinks. Jungkook being in the middle but was unsure of what to do or where to go. Looking back in high school, this was how it was. In the hideout classroom, Namjoon would give Taehyung a talk, Hoseok would move around noisily while Jungkook would hover, not knowing where to go.

How long has it been since we have gathered. I don’t remember it well. How are Seokjin Hyung and Jimin? A thought unlike of mine came to me. This was a place I had come for the first time, but my heart is already at ease.

Namjoon 20 July YEAR 22

I skimmed across the magazine advertisements and lifted my head. There were so many different faces of those who sat at the corner table the last few days across me. A thick book, large bag and a white paper cup alike but it still wasn’t her. Again, I went back to skimming the magazines. I had been looking at the same page for more than an hour. Because of the repetitive thoughts, my eyes couldn’t pick up the letters at all. I asked myself why am I sitting here. No answer came to me. Amongst those who were engrossed in something, I was lethargically looking through a magazine. I felt impatient for something to start. This isn’t how it is meant to be.

I returned the magazine and continued to walk across the bookshelves The books were in rows on bookshelves taller than I was. From the open window, a breeze blew, the smell of books wafting and the dust hovering. I thought about my high school years again. My friends and I, together, in that hideout classroom. At that time, it smelled the same. Had the ‘Current Me’ grow from the “Then Me’? I couldn’t be sure of it. Regardless, it could be that everything of me had stopped at that time since back then. I moved to the opposite bookshelf. I picked up a book I used to study back then. I had to start again. From everything I had given up, one at a time.

11 April YEAR 22

I finished with the gas and went in. But something brushed against my face and fell. Surprised, I took a step backwards to look at it. At the bottom of my feet was a crumpled bill. Out of reflex, I bent down to pick it up. The people in the car burst into laughter. I stopped for a moment. Seokjin Hyung was watching me from a distance. I couldn’t lift my head up. What do you do if you make eye contact with people who ride in expensive cars but put down and ridicule others? You have to face them. If you think what they’re doing is unjust, you have to face them. It’s not a matter of bravery, or pride or equality but it is something that needs to be done.

However, this was a gas station and I’m a part time-worker. If a customer threw trash, I had to clean it up. And if they cursed, I had to listen. And if they threw a bill on the floor, I had to pick it up. My body shook with humiliation. I clenched my fists. My fingernails dug into my skin.

At that moment, someone’s hand picked up the bill. The people in the car muttered and left as if the fun in it was gone. Even after they left, I couldn’t lift my head up. I lacked the confidence to look into Seokjin Hyung’s eyes. It wasn’t as though Hyung didn’t know about my cowardliness, my poverty and my circumstances. I didn’t want to show him this explicitly. Hyung stood at the end of my gaze and didn’t move. Neither did he approach me or did he speak.

Hoseok 13 August YEAR 22

Jimin and the kid was standing in the middle of the practice room. The 5-second wait after the beginning pose always seemed long. As soon as the music flowed from the speaker, the two of them started the first move. It was the choreography that I had practiced with the kid not too long ago. I sat on the floor of the room and monitored.

When I first found out that I couldn’t dance for the time being, because of my ankle, it had been really difficult. It was suffocating that I could only watch others dance. But as I helped Jimin practice and watched him grow, a realization dawned on me. The fact that I cant dance by myself wasn’t a big problem and that I could be happy by continuing with dance in other ways.

When I practice with Jimin, I didn’t let even the smallest mistake go by. Jimin sometimes subtly missed the timing or made movements that are smaller than what I expect. At those times, I stopped the music and scrutinized each move, one by one. But when I sat on the floor, as some kind o audience, and watched from here, Jimin’s dance looked different. I saw something bigger than just his small one-by-one movements. Things that I initially thought and dismissed of as mistakes when we practice together dawned on me differently. Such trivial mistakes and imperfections instead came together to give off a unique feeling. Of course, it would be different than mine, but Jimin had his own timing and own expressions. Jimin’s dance was bright and touches the heart just the way it was.

The music ended. Jimin’s dance ended as well. I saw that his face was shining with excitement and joy. The kid was standing next to him. The kid would be going overseas soon. Suddenly, we locked eyes. I gave a thumbs-up and the kid gave a big smile. It was strange. The kid didn’t look a thing like my mother. I can’t even remember my own mother’s face, so why did I think they looked similar? Suddenly, something in my heart ached. My to-be healed ankle twitched.

12 May YEAR 22

I opened the door of the emergency room and ran down the stairs. My heart was racing as if it was about to explode. The face that I had a glimpse of in the hospital hallway was of my mother’s. At the moment I looked back, the elevator doors opened and people pushed their way out. I pushed desperately among the people. And I saw my mother’s form going into the emergency room doors. Anxiously, I ran down two steps at a time. Without resting, I ran dome several flights.

“Mom!”. My mother stopped. I took another step forward. She turned around. I went down another flight. Her became visible. It was at that moment that my heel of the foot slipped on the edge of the stair and my center of gravity was pushed forward. I closed my eyes tight, bracing myself that I was going to fall flat on my face. Someone grabbed my arm, and thanks to that person, I narrowly avoided the fall and regained my balance. When I looked back, I saw Jimin standing there with a shocked expression. Before I could even say thank you, I turned my head again.

A woman was there. She looked surprised. Next to her was a young boy, staring at me and blinking with his big eyes. She isn’t my mother. I stood at the top of the stairs, blankly staring at the woman’s face.

I couldn’t remember what I said to escape that situation. I also didn’t ask how Jimin appeared there in the first place. My mind was too cluttered to be concerned about the small details. The woman wasn’t my mother. I might even have known that from the start. It had been more than ten years since she had left me alone at the theme park. My mother would have been older by now, and different from what I remembered. Even if I met her, I wouldn’t recognize her. No, by now, I could barely even remember her face.

I looked back. Jimin was following me in silence. Back in high school, after we parted ways in the emergency room, Jimin said he had to stay in the hospital. I thought of how he looked as if he didn’t know what to do when asked if he wanted to get out of the hospital. Couldn’t it be Jimin was trapped just like I was, unable to cling or break away from memories that bind us? I took a step towards him.

“Jimin-ah, let’s get out of here.”

Jimin 28 July YEAR 22

Today, I am left alone in the practice room. It was past twelve and the trains would have stopped running. Actually, I was waiting for the trains to stop running. That way, I could be left completely alone in the practice room. When we practiced together, my eyes were only focused on the areas where I lacked. That’s why I was restless, I was afraid. Yet, no matter what, I wanted to do it. So I stayed by myself every night.

As my days were spent like this, interestingly, the fear in my heart disappeared. Only the truth of dancing being fun remained. For a long time, I believed that the small, weak and powerless me was real. When I danced, I ended up thinking of my weight of my body or the length of my arms, speed or strength that I could make. When I danced, I didn’t feel small or weak. My skills improved greatly as much as I have practiced. The movements that had been stuttering at first were now being connected. I have grown. Even if the growth was as a fingernail, but I was still growing. I became aware that I was in reality, a talkative person. I knew that. When I danced, I was able to speak whatever I couldn’t say or hadn’t said. When I started to dance, for the first tine, I started to like myself.

15 May YEAR 22

When I opened my eyes, Hoseok Hyung was standing there. The familiar ceiling looked down at me with a familiar darkness. Startled, I tried to sipt up but he placed a finger on his lips. Everyone was sleep, my surroundings were quiet. Hyung immediately offered me a T-shirt, jerking his chin toward the exit of the hospital.

“We all came together” He mentioned that Namjoon Hyung was standing guard while Yoongi Hyung was buying time with the nurses. Jungkook and Taehyung would join us at the elevator in no time. At first, I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Hyung reached out a hand to me, while I was still in a daze.

The day I left the hospital. I had dreamt of that day sometimes. I wanted to leave the hospital and meet my friends. To spend some time with them laughing and talking the way we used to before. But now I didnt know. Was it a good idea to leave? My parents actually hid me in this place and pretended that I was someone who didn’t exist. People whispered I had a mental illness. I don’t know if Hoseok Hyung thought the same. Maybe he thought I was strange, that spending time with me made him uncomfortable.

“Come on, we don’t have time.” Maybe because of Hyung’s urging, the sound of the clock’s second hand sounded weirdly fast. Thump. Thump. The sound of footsteps, like an auditory hallucination, came closer and closer to the hospital room. Hyung and I turned simultaneously to look at the door, then looked at each other. Hyung’s hand was still in front of me.

Taehyung 11 August YEAR 22

As I turned around, I discovered some words underneath the ‘X’. It was a short sentence scratched onto the wall, saying ‘It wasn’t my fault.”. It was that kid. I didn’t see her, nor did I know her handwriting but somehow I knew. It looked her last greeting. Saying that her leaving wasn’t because of me. That the things that made her ‘fall’ was not because I was a bad person. It seemed like it was telling me not to blame myself or to be hung up on it, but instead to have courage.

When I finally got back to my senses, I was in front of my house. From the outside the door, I could hear Noona’s scream. I flung it open and entered. A familiar scene was laid out. I blocked my father. I grabbed his arm and look right at his face. Initially, he seemed to be shocked, but then he swing his fist. This is not the first time that I was knocked out. Noona’s crying became louder. My chin hurt.  The smell of dusty metal came from my own mouth. Yet, I didn’t give up. I grabbed my father’s waist. He gave off an angry scream. He mercilessly hit my back and shoulders but all the more I held on to him even tighter.

It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t that I wasn’t scared. But if I let go, the same daily cycle would repeat. I wanted it to be different. I wanted to change it.

No. I’m different from my father. I’m going to protect our family.

29 March YEAR 22

The gas station owner spat on the ground as he left. I laid down on the ground in the same position that I had crouched in. I was drawing at the back of the wall of the gas station, only to be caught by the owner, who beat me and angrily asked what I was doing, drawing on somebody else’s wall. I rolled around the floor. Getting hit was something that I was familiar and at the same time, unfamiliar with.

I started graffiti not too long ago. I took a spray can that someone threw away and started drawing on the wall. It was yellow colour. I sprayed it whatever I wanted and then looked up at it. I looked at the distinct yellow colour paint on the grey paint, then picked up another spray can. For a long time, I sprayed unknowingly on the wall. Only when the spray cans were all empty did my hands stop. I threw the can away and stepped back. My breath came as though I had been running with all my might.

I didn’t know what the colours on the wall meant. I didn’t know what I had done or why had I done it. But I had done it. I would assume that what I expressed were my feelings. I spewed out my heart onto the wall. Initially, I thought it was ugly. I thought it was something dirty. Something idiotic, useless and pitiful. I didn’t like it. I rubbed some of the wet paint with my hand. I wanted to erase it all. Yet, instead of erasing it, I ended up mixing and blending the colours and moulded different shapes. I sat against the wall. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not I liked it. It wasn’t a matter of whether it was beautiful or not. It was just me.

When I stood up, I coughed. I spat blood onto my hand. Then I saw someone’s hand picking up the spray can. I followed the hand up until I saw a face. I saw Namjoon Hyung’s face. I laughed. I thought I was seeing a ghost. Hyung reached out a hand. I simply looked up at him. Hyung took my hand and pulled me up. His hand was warm.

Jungkook 11 August YEAR 22

When I looked back, the hospital is really far away. I could no longer see the bench where I had left the wildflowers, neither could I see the window through wish I watched the river with the kid. As I reflected, that kid was a space for me to breathe in this stuffy hospital life. As we set on the hospital bench in the late afternoon talking about this and that, the sun had set. I told her about playing in the hideout classroom, going on a vacation to the beach and walking all the way up till the train station. She told me about all of the corners in the hospital , which window that you can see the river from, which staircase you could use to secretly climb up to the roof. There was nothing she didn’t know about the hospital.

Her hospital room was empty. Had she been discharged, or moved to another hospital? I asked the nurses. But none of them could tell me. For some reason, a corner of my heart felt empty. I turned around and just kept walking. From a distance, I could see the school. It seemed like most of the things I talked to her about was involved the Hyungs, and almost every single story started with them. To me, when I was alone, the Hyungs became my friends and family and teachers. My story was within their stories, and I only existed inside a relationship with them.

Yet, at some point, I started to think as such. That there may be a day where they would no longer be at my side. I might go looking for them to find out they’re gone, without any reason. Or maybe something even more could happen, I didn’t know.

I thought of that night. When the huge moon rose in the sky, the world turned upside-down, the headlamps I saw from an inverted view, the shape of the car that passed by me and eventually disappeared. The sound of the engine, which was familiar to me for some reason. I didn’t want to jump into conclusions. But even so, I just kept thinking of that moment.

28 May YEAR 19

“Hyungs, what are your dreams?” At my words, the Hyungs turned around. “It’s because I have to write a paper on future hopes.” I added. But Seokjin Hyung opened his mouth and said, “Hmm, I don’t know, I don’t think I have a dream. If I have something to hope for, it’s just wanting to be a good person?” Hyung cut himself off, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Then Yoongi Hyung who was stretched out on the piano bench said in a lingering tone, “It’s okay to not have a dream. I don’t have one. I’ll just be whatever.” At Yoongi’s-like words, everyone burst out laughing.

“I’m going to be a superhero, to save the world from bad guys.” Taehyung Hyung stood up on a chair and posed, stretching his arms up to the sky, Hoseok Hyung told him off saying that he would get hurt if he played that way. Then Hoseok mentioned, “I want to go to find my mom and live happily. Being happy is my dream.” Hyung smiled happily as he spoke. “Then, are you unhappy now?” Jimin Hyung was the one who asked him. Hoseok Hyung gave a worried expression and asked “Is that how it is?” Then Hoseok Hyung asked Jimin Hyung, “What is your dream?” “Me?” Jimin asked, blinking and flustered. He said, “When I was in preschool, I wanted to be the president but I don’t know what I wanted to be after that.”

Now only Namjoon Hyung was left. Perhaps feeling everyone’s gazes on him, Hyung shrugged and opened his mouth. “I wanted to say something nice but I don’t really have a dream. I just wished my part-time job paid more.” I nodded and looked down at my paper. The paper on hopes for the future was divided into spaces for the “student” and “parent”. What do I want to become? I couldn’t think of anything to write.

Seokjin 30 August YEAR 22

She seemed flustered when she thought she lost her diary. Her favourite movie, her favourite place to go, her favorite flowers to even her dreams appear on every future page being turned. It was something that I had done for her. The words ‘Sorry’ didn’t come out easily. The red diary laid between us at the intersection.

I wanted to give her happiness. I wanted to make her laugh. I wanted to be someone she would like. I thought that if I followed the words in the diary, I would be that person. But that wasn’t the case. I became more scared when I became someone else. I really don’t want to be caught (for being me). I don’t want disappointment to follow afterwards. Desperately, I turned my head away to hide myself. But just as one cannot put a full stop to a sentence without subject, the me who could not improve himself and continued to wander in the same place.

Now, I know. The me who lacks, makes mistakes and fails is all part of me afterall. No matter how cruel or how merciless things are, by being true to myself would I, only be able to move forward. I stood up from my position and she didn’t try to grab me.

I walked out to the street and removed my hat. As I run my fingers through my hair, all the time spent trying to be someone else slipped through my fingers. I lifted my head and saw my reflection in the mirror. A frail face, pale lips and thin shoulders. I looked unkempt. I laughed. The me in the mirror laughed too.

11 April YEAR 22

The moment I closed my eyes, it was the 4thApril yet again. I opened the curtain with the glaring sunlight entering the room. When I raised my body, I was overwhelmed and closed my eyes. My surroundings changed to one that was of a reddish image and I saw Taehyung’s appearance. He was standing alone at the top of the observation platform at the beach. That happened on 22 May. It was the past and the future, something that already happened in the past but could still happen in the future. It was at that moment I thought everything was resolved.

I saw Taehyung climbing up the ladder as the sun began to set. The sky was still blue but gradually it began to have a red colour seeping in. When I lifted my head, I saw Taehyung climbing the ladder. When he reached the top, he looked down at us for a moment. Afterwards, he jumped. Just like a bird, like he had wings. Then for one moment, it seemed as if he stopped in the air, just like that the mirror cracked, the wind blew the curtains open and my senses came back.

And just like that, I opened my eyes and it was the 4th April again.

Yoongi 29 July YEAR 22

What was the reason that the melody kept coming to me after I lost the person who practiced with me and played the guitar? Laying buried on the couch, I stared at the piano that was a distance away. After being expelled from school, I threw away my mother’s piano key. It was the only thing that I had taken from the ruins of the burned building, it was half burned and I threw it out of the apartment window. I thought that would end it. I told myself again the promise that I would never touch a piano ever again.

Early in the morning, I took the stairs because I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I thought I had fallen asleep quickly but the sun was already rising. Suddenly, memories of last night came back to me. There was nothing in the flowerbed outside the window. The security guard told me that the garbage truck had come not too long ago. That was how I lost my mother’s piano key.

Even after that, I gave up on music countlessly. Now I won’t. I won’t come back, music is nothing, yet as I tried to run away, I knew. I knew that I would start music again, the same way as I stumbled down the stairs. Music was that kind of subject to me. In music, I was just as free as I was suffering, confused but also lucid, fear and confidence, hope and despair, as if I was living inside all those conflicting emotions.

Suddenly, I wanted to play the piano. Inside it, I wanted to meet me who only pretended to be strong, even though in reality, I was fearful and a coward. I wanted to pour out curses and sarcasm, give wounds and hit and destroy and pull and cry. And I didn’t want to run away. I wanted to complete the melody that was made by the guitar and piano. This time, it seemed like I could.

11 April YEAR 22

I kept on walking, though I had a sense that Jungkook was following from a distance. As the train tracks stretched out, containers continued to appear. It’s the 4thcontainer from the back. Hoseok said he had plans to meet with Namjoon and Taehyung, and told me to come too. I told him I would come, but I didn’t really intend to go. I hated getting involved with others and Hoseok knew that. He probably didn’t have any thoughts of me turning up.

When I opened the door, I could see Hoseok’s surprised face. Then he discovered Jungkook and approached him with mixed emotions. I passed by both of them and headed to the container. “How long has it been?” I could hear the sounds of Hoseok trying to pull Jungkook and Jungkook being embarrassed.

I could hear Namjoon bringing Taehyung in. Taehyung’s shirt was torn on one side. When we asked what happened, Namjoon pretended to rap his knuckles against Taehyung. “This brat was late because he was arrested by the police for doing graffiti and I had to go pick him up.” Taehyung made an exaggerated apologetic face and talked animatedly how his shirt was torn when he ran away from the police.

I sat in the corner and watched them. Namjoon gave Taehyung a shirt to change into, Hoseok pulled out hamburgers and drinks. Jungkook being in the middle but was unsure of what to do or where to go. Looking back in high school, this was how it was. In the hideout classroom, Namjoon would give Taehyung a talk, Hoseok would move around noisily while Jungkook would hover, not knowing where to go.

How long has it been since we have gathered. I don’t remember it well. How are Seokjin Hyung and Jimin? A thought unlike of mine came to me. This was a place I had come for the first time, but my heart is already at ease.

Namjoon 20 July YEAR 22

I skimmed across the magazine advertisements and lifted my head. There were so many different faces of those who sat at the corner table the last few days across me. A thick book, large bag and a white paper cup alike but it still wasn’t her. Again, I went back to skimming the magazines. I had been looking at the same page for more than an hour. Because of the repetitive thoughts, my eyes couldn’t pick up the letters at all. I asked myself why am I sitting here. No answer came to me. Amongst those who were engrossed in something, I was lethargically looking through a magazine. I felt impatient for something to start. This isn’t how it is meant to be.

I returned the magazine and continued to walk across the bookshelves The books were in rows on bookshelves taller than I was. From the open window, a breeze blew, the smell of books wafting and the dust hovering. I thought about my high school years again. My friends and I, together, in that hideout classroom. At that time, it smelled the same. Had the ‘Current Me’ grow from the “Then Me’? I couldn’t be sure of it. Regardless, it could be that everything of me had stopped at that time since back then. I moved to the opposite bookshelf. I picked up a book I used to study back then. I had to start again. From everything I had given up, one at a time.

11 April YEAR 22

I finished with the gas and went in. But something brushed against my face and fell. Surprised, I took a step backwards to look at it. At the bottom of my feet was a crumpled bill. Out of reflex, I bent down to pick it up. The people in the car burst into laughter. I stopped for a moment. Seokjin Hyung was watching me from a distance. I couldn’t lift my head up. What do you do if you make eye contact with people who ride in expensive cars but put down and ridicule others? You have to face them. If you think what they’re doing is unjust, you have to face them. It’s not a matter of bravery, or pride or equality but it is something that needs to be done.

However, this was a gas station and I’m a part time-worker. If a customer threw trash, I had to clean it up. And if they cursed, I had to listen. And if they threw a bill on the floor, I had to pick it up. My body shook with humiliation. I clenched my fists. My fingernails dug into my skin.

At that moment, someone’s hand picked up the bill. The people in the car muttered and left as if the fun in it was gone. Even after they left, I couldn’t lift my head up. I lacked the confidence to look into Seokjin Hyung’s eyes. It wasn’t as though Hyung didn’t know about my cowardliness, my poverty and my circumstances. I didn’t want to show him this explicitly. Hyung stood at the end of my gaze and didn’t move. Neither did he approach me or did he speak.

Hoseok 13 August YEAR 22

Jimin and the kid was standing in the middle of the practice room. The 5-second wait after the beginning pose always seemed long. As soon as the music flowed from the speaker, the two of them started the first move. It was the choreography that I had practiced with the kid not too long ago. I sat on the floor of the room and monitored.

When I first found out that I couldn’t dance for the time being, because of my ankle, it had been really difficult. It was suffocating that I could only watch others dance. But as I helped Jimin practice and watched him grow, a realization dawned on me. The fact that I cant dance by myself wasn’t a big problem and that I could be happy by continuing with dance in other ways.

When I practice with Jimin, I didn’t let even the smallest mistake go by. Jimin sometimes subtly missed the timing or made movements that are smaller than what I expect. At those times, I stopped the music and scrutinized each move, one by one. But when I sat on the floor, as some kind o audience, and watched from here, Jimin’s dance looked different. I saw something bigger than just his small one-by-one movements. Things that I initially thought and dismissed of as mistakes when we practice together dawned on me differently. Such trivial mistakes and imperfections instead came together to give off a unique feeling. Of course, it would be different than mine, but Jimin had his own timing and own expressions. Jimin’s dance was bright and touches the heart just the way it was.

The music ended. Jimin’s dance ended as well. I saw that his face was shining with excitement and joy. The kid was standing next to him. The kid would be going overseas soon. Suddenly, we locked eyes. I gave a thumbs-up and the kid gave a big smile. It was strange. The kid didn’t look a thing like my mother. I can’t even remember my own mother’s face, so why did I think they looked similar? Suddenly, something in my heart ached. My to-be healed ankle twitched.

2 March YEAR 22

I liked being among people. When I left the orphanage, I worked part time at a fast food restaurant, having a knack of making others smile while I work. I liked that kind of work. Actually, in my life, there were very few reasons for me to laugh or to be cheerful. It’s clear that I’ve seen more bad people than the good ones. Maybe that’s the reason why I liked the job. If I smiled brightly, spoke loudly and reacted cheerfully, I could pretend, even to myself, that I felt that way, even if it was deliberately done by me. My mood improved when I laughed loudly, and when I treated people kindly, I became a kind person. Yet, there were hard days as well. After cleaning the store and going back home, even taking a step was difficult. There days filled with fussy customers too. But even so, it was easier to hold it in because of my friends back then, as compared to now.

Sometimes I thought of my friends when I look at the store packed with customers. Seokjin Hyung who transferred schools without saying anything, Namjoon, who disappeared one morning, Yoongi Hyung who was expelled and won’t pick up my calls, Taehyung, who knows, where or what kind of accident is he possibly in now, and Jimin, who never returned to school and the last time I saw him was at the emergency room. I had seen Jungkook wearing the school uniform a few times through the window, but he never visited the store. I wondered if all those times have passed by now.

Hearing the sound of a customer, I gave a loud greeting. I looked towards the door with a bright and healthy smile.

Jimin 28 July YEAR 22

Today, I am left alone in the practice room. It was past twelve and the trains would have stopped running. Actually, I was waiting for the trains to stop running. That way, I could be left completely alone in the practice room. When we practiced together, my eyes were only focused on the areas where I lacked. That’s why I was restless, I was afraid. Yet, no matter what, I wanted to do it. So I stayed by myself every night.

As my days were spent like this, interestingly, the fear in my heart disappeared. Only the truth of dancing being fun remained. For a long time, I believed that the small, weak and powerless me was real. When I danced, I ended up thinking of my weight of my body or the length of my arms, speed or strength that I could make. When I danced, I didn’t feel small or weak. My skills improved greatly as much as I have practiced. The movements that had been stuttering at first were now being connected. I have grown. Even if the growth was as a fingernail, but I was still growing. I became aware that I was in reality, a talkative person. I knew that. When I danced, I was able to speak whatever I couldn’t say or hadn’t said. When I started to dance, for the first tine, I started to like myself.

16 May YEAR 22

Hoseok Hyung’s house was actually quite high. A rooftop room of a deadlocked house at the end of a narrow, winding alley, some distance from a long street; that was Hyung’s house. When I entered the house, which was just one room, Hyung bragged that it was the top floor in the whole city; from which all the places that we have grown up from could be seen, laid down below our feet. Hyung said that there is so many things to see from this rooftop room. The nearby train station could be seen, and along the train tracks, the containers were also visible, Namjoon Hyung was living in one of those. If I look a little more, the school that we all attend would appear.

After finding the school, I lifted my head and looked at the other side of the city. At the foot of the mountain, there were some large apartment buildings. Right there, that’s my house, no, that’s my parent’s house. I didn’t tell anyone that I ran away from the hospital. If I did, they would have called my parents. Right now, maybe, I don’t know, they might be looking for me. I don’t have the confidence to see them face-to-face. Though I came out of the hospital, there is no way that I’m going home. Even as such, I have no desire to go back to the hospital. But I had nowhere to go and had no money. I stood hesitantly, before Hyung told me to follow him, leading the way, and how we arrived at this place – his house.

My eyes looked back to the apartment houses again. I didn’t want to meet my parents or go back to the hospital even though eventually I had to. I took a deep breath in. It seemed like a thought alone could cause a seizure. Truthfully, I didn’t trust myself enough to endure any other place other than the hospital. I could be rushed to the hospital again. I was so afraid, I couldn’t stand it.

Taehyung 11 August YEAR 22

As I turned around, I discovered some words underneath the ‘X’. It was a short sentence scratched onto the wall, saying ‘It wasn’t my fault.”. It was that kid. I didn’t see her, nor did I know her handwriting but somehow I knew. It looked her last greeting. Saying that her leaving wasn’t because of me. That the things that made her ‘fall’ was not because I was a bad person. It seemed like it was telling me not to blame myself or to be hung up on it, but instead to have courage.

When I finally got back to my senses, I was in front of my house. From the outside the door, I could hear Noona’s scream. I flung it open and entered. A familiar scene was laid out. I blocked my father. I grabbed his arm and look right at his face. Initially, he seemed to be shocked, but then he swing his fist. This is not the first time that I was knocked out. Noona’s crying became louder. My chin hurt.  The smell of dusty metal came from my own mouth. Yet, I didn’t give up. I grabbed my father’s waist. He gave off an angry scream. He mercilessly hit my back and shoulders but all the more I held on to him even tighter.

It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t that I wasn’t scared. But if I let go, the same daily cycle would repeat. I wanted it to be different. I wanted to change it.

No. I’m different from my father. I’m going to protect our family.

29 March YEAR 22

The gas station owner spat on the ground as he left. I laid down on the ground in the same position that I had crouched in. I was drawing at the back of the wall of the gas station, only to be caught by the owner, who beat me and angrily asked what I was doing, drawing on somebody else’s wall. I rolled around the floor. Getting hit was something that I was familiar and at the same time, unfamiliar with.

I started graffiti not too long ago. I took a spray can that someone threw away and started drawing on the wall. It was yellow colour. I sprayed it whatever I wanted and then looked up at it. I looked at the distinct yellow colour paint on the grey paint, then picked up another spray can. For a long time, I sprayed unknowingly on the wall. Only when the spray cans were all empty did my hands stop. I threw the can away and stepped back. My breath came as though I had been running with all my might.

I didn’t know what the colours on the wall meant. I didn’t know what I had done or why had I done it. But I had done it. I would assume that what I expressed were my feelings. I spewed out my heart onto the wall. Initially, I thought it was ugly. I thought it was something dirty. Something idiotic, useless and pitiful. I didn’t like it. I rubbed some of the wet paint with my hand. I wanted to erase it all. Yet, instead of erasing it, I ended up mixing and blending the colours and moulded different shapes. I sat against the wall. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not I liked it. It wasn’t a matter of whether it was beautiful or not. It was just me.

When I stood up, I coughed. I spat blood onto my hand. Then I saw someone’s hand picking up the spray can. I followed the hand up until I saw a face. I saw Namjoon Hyung’s face. I laughed. I thought I was seeing a ghost. Hyung reached out a hand. I simply looked up at him. Hyung took my hand and pulled me up. His hand was warm.

Jungkook 11 August YEAR 22

When I looked back, the hospital is really far away. I could no longer see the bench where I had left the wildflowers, neither could I see the window through wish I watched the river with the kid. As I reflected, that kid was a space for me to breathe in this stuffy hospital life. As we set on the hospital bench in the late afternoon talking about this and that, the sun had set. I told her about playing in the hideout classroom, going on a vacation to the beach and walking all the way up till the train station. She told me about all of the corners in the hospital , which window that you can see the river from, which staircase you could use to secretly climb up to the roof. There was nothing she didn’t know about the hospital.

Her hospital room was empty. Had she been discharged, or moved to another hospital? I asked the nurses. But none of them could tell me. For some reason, a corner of my heart felt empty. I turned around and just kept walking. From a distance, I could see the school. It seemed like most of the things I talked to her about was involved the Hyungs, and almost every single story started with them. To me, when I was alone, the Hyungs became my friends and family and teachers. My story was within their stories, and I only existed inside a relationship with them.

Yet, at some point, I started to think as such. That there may be a day where they would no longer be at my side. I might go looking for them to find out they’re gone, without any reason. Or maybe something even more could happen, I didn’t know.

I thought of that night. When the huge moon rose in the sky, the world turned upside-down, the headlamps I saw from an inverted view, the shape of the car that passed by me and eventually disappeared. The sound of the engine, which was familiar to me for some reason. I didn’t want to jump into conclusions. But even so, I just kept thinking of that moment.

28 May YEAR 19

“Hyungs, what are your dreams?” At my words, the Hyungs turned around. “It’s because I have to write a paper on future hopes.” I added. But Seokjin Hyung opened his mouth and said, “Hmm, I don’t know, I don’t think I have a dream. If I have something to hope for, it’s just wanting to be a good person?” Hyung cut himself off, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Then Yoongi Hyung who was stretched out on the piano bench said in a lingering tone, “It’s okay to not have a dream. I don’t have one. I’ll just be whatever.” At Yoongi’s-like words, everyone burst out laughing.

“I’m going to be a superhero, to save the world from bad guys.” Taehyung Hyung stood up on a chair and posed, stretching his arms up to the sky, Hoseok Hyung told him off saying that he would get hurt if he played that way. Then Hoseok mentioned, “I want to go to find my mom and live happily. Being happy is my dream.” Hyung smiled happily as he spoke. “Then, are you unhappy now?” Jimin Hyung was the one who asked him. Hoseok Hyung gave a worried expression and asked “Is that how it is?” Then Hoseok Hyung asked Jimin Hyung, “What is your dream?” “Me?” Jimin asked, blinking and flustered. He said, “When I was in preschool, I wanted to be the president but I don’t know what I wanted to be after that.”

Now only Namjoon Hyung was left. Perhaps feeling everyone’s gazes on him, Hyung shrugged and opened his mouth. “I wanted to say something nice but I don’t really have a dream. I just wished my part-time job paid more.” I nodded and looked down at my paper. The paper on hopes for the future was divided into spaces for the “student” and “parent”. What do I want to become? I couldn’t think of anything to write.

Seokjin 30 August YEAR 22

She seemed flustered when she thought she lost her diary. Her favourite movie, her favourite place to go, her favorite flowers to even her dreams appear on every future page being turned. It was something that I had done for her. The words ‘Sorry’ didn’t come out easily. The red diary laid between us at the intersection.

I wanted to give her happiness. I wanted to make her laugh. I wanted to be someone she would like. I thought that if I followed the words in the diary, I would be that person. But that wasn’t the case. I became more scared when I became someone else. I really don’t want to be caught (for being me). I don’t want disappointment to follow afterwards. Desperately, I turned my head away to hide myself. But just as one cannot put a full stop to a sentence without subject, the me who could not improve himself and continued to wander in the same place.

Now, I know. The me who lacks, makes mistakes and fails is all part of me afterall. No matter how cruel or how merciless things are, by being true to myself would I, only be able to move forward. I stood up from my position and she didn’t try to grab me.

I walked out to the street and removed my hat. As I run my fingers through my hair, all the time spent trying to be someone else slipped through my fingers. I lifted my head and saw my reflection in the mirror. A frail face, pale lips and thin shoulders. I looked unkempt. I laughed. The me in the mirror laughed too.

25 June YEAR 19

A flower pot was by the window in the storage classroom, with its owner being unknown. Who among my dongsaengs would bring this flowerpot? I took out my handphone. The classroom was always dark since there wasn’t any electricity and with the vague light coming in through the dirty window, I could see the green leaves outside. The photo I took by my phone didn’t come out well. It wasn’t just because it was taken by a handphone. I always thought that photos cannot capture what can be seen by the eyes.

As I approached, I could see a ‘H’ underneath the flower pot. I lifted it up. The words ‘Hoseok’s flower pot’ appeared. I chuckled. Of course, no one else among the dongsaengs except for Hoseok who would bring a flower pot. I put the flower pot down so that only the ‘H’ would be visible. Until now, never once have I noticed but the windows were scribbled all over. Not just the windowsill, but the ceiling as well. “Pass or Die”.The names of crushes. dates, and numerous names that can’t be read.

This classroom wasn’t used for storage in the beginning. Students would every day go to class and then in the afternoons, they would empty them. It would have been empty during school vacations and then filled again once school started. Would there have been students like us who were late and received punishments and ended up missing class? Would there have been merciless violent teachers and endless tests and homework? Also, would there have been someone like me? Someone who told on their friends to the principal.

I wondered if my father’s name might have been among these. This place was also my father’s alma mater. My father was someone who believed that by attending the same higih school, the same college was a wat of preserving the family’s dignity. I scanned all the names and found my father’s one. It was in the middle of the left wall amongst several others. Underneath, a sentence was written. “Everything started from here.”

Yoongi 29 July YEAR 22

What was the reason that the melody kept coming to me after I lost the person who practiced with me and played the guitar? Laying buried on the couch, I stared at the piano that was a distance away. After being expelled from school, I threw away my mother’s piano key. It was the only thing that I had taken from the ruins of the burned building, it was half burned and I threw it out of the apartment window. I thought that would end it. I told myself again the promise that I would never touch a piano ever again.

Early in the morning, I took the stairs because I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I thought I had fallen asleep quickly but the sun was already rising. Suddenly, memories of last night came back to me. There was nothing in the flowerbed outside the window. The security guard told me that the garbage truck had come not too long ago. That was how I lost my mother’s piano key.

Even after that, I gave up on music countlessly. Now I won’t. I won’t come back, music is nothing, yet as I tried to run away, I knew. I knew that I would start music again, the same way as I stumbled down the stairs. Music was that kind of subject to me. In music, I was just as free as I was suffering, confused but also lucid, fear and confidence, hope and despair, as if I was living inside all those conflicting emotions.

Suddenly, I wanted to play the piano. Inside it, I wanted to meet me who only pretended to be strong, even though in reality, I was fearful and a coward. I wanted to pour out curses and sarcasm, give wounds and hit and destroy and pull and cry. And I didn’t want to run away. I wanted to complete the melody that was made by the guitar and piano. This time, it seemed like I could.

2 May YEAR 22

The sheet caught fire in an instant. Within the unbearable heat, everything lost its existence. I could no longer smell the sour smell of the mold, or feel the engulfing humidity, or see the dim light anymore. All that was left was my suffering. The physical suffering of the heat. The skin of my fingers is so hot that it blistered any moment. Only then did my father’s blank face and the sound of the music dispersed.

My father and I were very different. I couldn’t understand my father and my father couldn’t understand me. Even if I I put in effort, it won’t work out. All I could do was hide defy and run away from him. There are times in which it felt as though it wasn’t my father that I was breaking away from. Then fear in the face of a cliff came over me. Then what was I running away from? What did I have to do to be free? Everything felt impossible.

It seemed as though I could hear someone’s voice calling me, but I didn’t lift my head. Whether it was because of the heat or because of the pain, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t have the strength to move. Yet, even so. I knew it was Jungkook. He would be angry. Maybe he would be sad for me. I just wanted to sink down. I wanted to end all the smoke and heat, the pain and fear, then Jungkook shouted something again but I couldn’t hear it. My vision dropped low. Finally, I raised my eyes. The last thing I could see of the world was the dirty, remote room, red flames, wavering smoke and Jungkook’s face.

Namjoon 20 July YEAR 22

I skimmed across the magazine advertisements and lifted my head. There were so many different faces of those who sat at the corner table the last few days across me. A thick book, large bag and a white paper cup alike but it still wasn’t her. Again, I went back to skimming the magazines. I had been looking at the same page for more than an hour. Because of the repetitive thoughts, my eyes couldn’t pick up the letters at all. I asked myself why am I sitting here. No answer came to me. Amongst those who were engrossed in something, I was lethargically looking through a magazine. I felt impatient for something to start. This isn’t how it is meant to be.

I returned the magazine and continued to walk across the bookshelves The books were in rows on bookshelves taller than I was. From the open window, a breeze blew, the smell of books wafting and the dust hovering. I thought about my high school years again. My friends and I, together, in that hideout classroom. At that time, it smelled the same. Had the ‘Current Me’ grow from the “Then Me’? I couldn’t be sure of it. Regardless, it could be that everything of me had stopped at that time since back then. I moved to the opposite bookshelf. I picked up a book I used to study back then. I had to start again. From everything I had given up, one at a time.

11 April YEAR 22

I finished with the gas and went in. But something brushed against my face and fell. Surprised, I took a step backwards to look at it. At the bottom of my feet was a crumpled bill. Out of reflex, I bent down to pick it up. The people in the car burst into laughter. I stopped for a moment. Seokjin Hyung was watching me from a distance. I couldn’t lift my head up. What do you do if you make eye contact with people who ride in expensive cars but put down and ridicule others? You have to face them. If you think what they’re doing is unjust, you have to face them. It’s not a matter of bravery, or pride or equality but it is something that needs to be done.

However, this was a gas station and I’m a part time-worker. If a customer threw trash, I had to clean it up. And if they cursed, I had to listen. And if they threw a bill on the floor, I had to pick it up. My body shook with humiliation. I clenched my fists. My fingernails dug into my skin.

At that moment, someone’s hand picked up the bill. The people in the car muttered and left as if the fun in it was gone. Even after they left, I couldn’t lift my head up. I lacked the confidence to look into Seokjin Hyung’s eyes. It wasn’t as though Hyung didn’t know about my cowardliness, my poverty and my circumstances. I didn’t want to show him this explicitly. Hyung stood at the end of my gaze and didn’t move. Neither did he approach me or did he speak.

Hoseok 13 August YEAR 22

Jimin and the kid was standing in the middle of the practice room. The 5-second wait after the beginning pose always seemed long. As soon as the music flowed from the speaker, the two of them started the first move. It was the choreography that I had practiced with the kid not too long ago. I sat on the floor of the room and monitored.

When I first found out that I couldn’t dance for the time being, because of my ankle, it had been really difficult. It was suffocating that I could only watch others dance. But as I helped Jimin practice and watched him grow, a realization dawned on me. The fact that I cant dance by myself wasn’t a big problem and that I could be happy by continuing with dance in other ways.

When I practice with Jimin, I didn’t let even the smallest mistake go by. Jimin sometimes subtly missed the timing or made movements that are smaller than what I expect. At those times, I stopped the music and scrutinized each move, one by one. But when I sat on the floor, as some kind o audience, and watched from here, Jimin’s dance looked different. I saw something bigger than just his small one-by-one movements. Things that I initially thought and dismissed of as mistakes when we practice together dawned on me differently. Such trivial mistakes and imperfections instead came together to give off a unique feeling. Of course, it would be different than mine, but Jimin had his own timing and own expressions. Jimin’s dance was bright and touches the heart just the way it was.

The music ended. Jimin’s dance ended as well. I saw that his face was shining with excitement and joy. The kid was standing next to him. The kid would be going overseas soon. Suddenly, we locked eyes. I gave a thumbs-up and the kid gave a big smile. It was strange. The kid didn’t look a thing like my mother. I can’t even remember my own mother’s face, so why did I think they looked similar? Suddenly, something in my heart ached. My to-be healed ankle twitched.

2 March YEAR 22

I liked being among people. When I left the orphanage, I worked part time at a fast food restaurant, having a knack of making others smile while I work. I liked that kind of work. Actually, in my life, there were very few reasons for me to laugh or to be cheerful. It’s clear that I’ve seen more bad people than the good ones. Maybe that’s the reason why I liked the job. If I smiled brightly, spoke loudly and reacted cheerfully, I could pretend, even to myself, that I felt that way, even if it was deliberately done by me. My mood improved when I laughed loudly, and when I treated people kindly, I became a kind person. Yet, there were hard days as well. After cleaning the store and going back home, even taking a step was difficult. There days filled with fussy customers too. But even so, it was easier to hold it in because of my friends back then, as compared to now.

Sometimes I thought of my friends when I look at the store packed with customers. Seokjin Hyung who transferred schools without saying anything, Namjoon, who disappeared one morning, Yoongi Hyung who was expelled and won’t pick up my calls, Taehyung, who knows, where or what kind of accident is he possibly in now, and Jimin, who never returned to school and the last time I saw him was at the emergency room. I had seen Jungkook wearing the school uniform a few times through the window, but he never visited the store. I wondered if all those times have passed by now.

Hearing the sound of a customer, I gave a loud greeting. I looked towards the door with a bright and healthy smile.

Jimin 28 July YEAR 22

Today, I am left alone in the practice room. It was past twelve and the trains would have stopped running. Actually, I was waiting for the trains to stop running. That way, I could be left completely alone in the practice room. When we practiced together, my eyes were only focused on the areas where I lacked. That’s why I was restless, I was afraid. Yet, no matter what, I wanted to do it. So I stayed by myself every night.

As my days were spent like this, interestingly, the fear in my heart disappeared. Only the truth of dancing being fun remained. For a long time, I believed that the small, weak and powerless me was real. When I danced, I ended up thinking of my weight of my body or the length of my arms, speed or strength that I could make. When I danced, I didn’t feel small or weak. My skills improved greatly as much as I have practiced. The movements that had been stuttering at first were now being connected. I have grown. Even if the growth was as a fingernail, but I was still growing. I became aware that I was in reality, a talkative person. I knew that. When I danced, I was able to speak whatever I couldn’t say or hadn’t said. When I started to dance, for the first tine, I started to like myself.

16 May YEAR 22

Hoseok Hyung’s house was actually quite high. A rooftop room of a deadlocked house at the end of a narrow, winding alley, some distance from a long street; that was Hyung’s house. When I entered the house, which was just one room, Hyung bragged that it was the top floor in the whole city; from which all the places that we have grown up from could be seen, laid down below our feet. Hyung said that there is so many things to see from this rooftop room. The nearby train station could be seen, and along the train tracks, the containers were also visible, Namjoon Hyung was living in one of those. If I look a little more, the school that we all attend would appear.

After finding the school, I lifted my head and looked at the other side of the city. At the foot of the mountain, there were some large apartment buildings. Right there, that’s my house, no, that’s my parent’s house. I didn’t tell anyone that I ran away from the hospital. If I did, they would have called my parents. Right now, maybe, I don’t know, they might be looking for me. I don’t have the confidence to see them face-to-face. Though I came out of the hospital, there is no way that I’m going home. Even as such, I have no desire to go back to the hospital. But I had nowhere to go and had no money. I stood hesitantly, before Hyung told me to follow him, leading the way, and how we arrived at this place – his house.

My eyes looked back to the apartment houses again. I didn’t want to meet my parents or go back to the hospital even though eventually I had to. I took a deep breath in. It seemed like a thought alone could cause a seizure. Truthfully, I didn’t trust myself enough to endure any other place other than the hospital. I could be rushed to the hospital again. I was so afraid, I couldn’t stand it.

Taehyung 11 August YEAR 22

As I turned around, I discovered some words underneath the ‘X’. It was a short sentence scratched onto the wall, saying ‘It wasn’t my fault.”. It was that kid. I didn’t see her, nor did I know her handwriting but somehow I knew. It looked her last greeting. Saying that her leaving wasn’t because of me. That the things that made her ‘fall’ was not because I was a bad person. It seemed like it was telling me not to blame myself or to be hung up on it, but instead to have courage.

When I finally got back to my senses, I was in front of my house. From the outside the door, I could hear Noona’s scream. I flung it open and entered. A familiar scene was laid out. I blocked my father. I grabbed his arm and look right at his face. Initially, he seemed to be shocked, but then he swing his fist. This is not the first time that I was knocked out. Noona’s crying became louder. My chin hurt.  The smell of dusty metal came from my own mouth. Yet, I didn’t give up. I grabbed my father’s waist. He gave off an angry scream. He mercilessly hit my back and shoulders but all the more I held on to him even tighter.

It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t that I wasn’t scared. But if I let go, the same daily cycle would repeat. I wanted it to be different. I wanted to change it.

No. I’m different from my father. I’m going to protect our family.

29 March YEAR 22

The gas station owner spat on the ground as he left. I laid down on the ground in the same position that I had crouched in. I was drawing at the back of the wall of the gas station, only to be caught by the owner, who beat me and angrily asked what I was doing, drawing on somebody else’s wall. I rolled around the floor. Getting hit was something that I was familiar and at the same time, unfamiliar with.

I started graffiti not too long ago. I took a spray can that someone threw away and started drawing on the wall. It was yellow colour. I sprayed it whatever I wanted and then looked up at it. I looked at the distinct yellow colour paint on the grey paint, then picked up another spray can. For a long time, I sprayed unknowingly on the wall. Only when the spray cans were all empty did my hands stop. I threw the can away and stepped back. My breath came as though I had been running with all my might.

I didn’t know what the colours on the wall meant. I didn’t know what I had done or why had I done it. But I had done it. I would assume that what I expressed were my feelings. I spewed out my heart onto the wall. Initially, I thought it was ugly. I thought it was something dirty. Something idiotic, useless and pitiful. I didn’t like it. I rubbed some of the wet paint with my hand. I wanted to erase it all. Yet, instead of erasing it, I ended up mixing and blending the colours and moulded different shapes. I sat against the wall. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not I liked it. It wasn’t a matter of whether it was beautiful or not. It was just me.

When I stood up, I coughed. I spat blood onto my hand. Then I saw someone’s hand picking up the spray can. I followed the hand up until I saw a face. I saw Namjoon Hyung’s face. I laughed. I thought I was seeing a ghost. Hyung reached out a hand. I simply looked up at him. Hyung took my hand and pulled me up. His hand was warm.

Jungkook 11 August YEAR 22

When I looked back, the hospital is really far away. I could no longer see the bench where I had left the wildflowers, neither could I see the window through wish I watched the river with the kid. As I reflected, that kid was a space for me to breathe in this stuffy hospital life. As we set on the hospital bench in the late afternoon talking about this and that, the sun had set. I told her about playing in the hideout classroom, going on a vacation to the beach and walking all the way up till the train station. She told me about all of the corners in the hospital , which window that you can see the river from, which staircase you could use to secretly climb up to the roof. There was nothing she didn’t know about the hospital.

Her hospital room was empty. Had she been discharged, or moved to another hospital? I asked the nurses. But none of them could tell me. For some reason, a corner of my heart felt empty. I turned around and just kept walking. From a distance, I could see the school. It seemed like most of the things I talked to her about was involved the Hyungs, and almost every single story started with them. To me, when I was alone, the Hyungs became my friends and family and teachers. My story was within their stories, and I only existed inside a relationship with them.

Yet, at some point, I started to think as such. That there may be a day where they would no longer be at my side. I might go looking for them to find out they’re gone, without any reason. Or maybe something even more could happen, I didn’t know.

I thought of that night. When the huge moon rose in the sky, the world turned upside-down, the headlamps I saw from an inverted view, the shape of the car that passed by me and eventually disappeared. The sound of the engine, which was familiar to me for some reason. I didn’t want to jump into conclusions. But even so, I just kept thinking of that moment.

11 April YEAR 22

I walked on the top of the railing of the roof top. The building had been abandoned while it was in the middle of its construction. When I stretched out one foot in the air, the darkness engulfed beneath me. The night city spread out hazily below the railings. Neon lights, honking horns and smoking dust swirled in the darkness. For a moment, I felt dizzy. I stretched out my arms to regain my balance. Then I thought. It was only one step. If I took one step, everything would end. I leaned my body more towards the darkness. The darkness that started at the bottom of my feet now came up to devour my body whole. When I closed my eyes, the dizzy city, sounds and fear all disappeared. I stopped breathing. Then, I leaned my body towards the darkness even more. I didn’t have any thoughts. No one came to my mind. I didn’t want to leave anything behind. I wouldn’t remember anything. This was just the end.

At this moment, my phone rang. My senses came back to me as though I woke up from a distant dream. My dulled senses returned immediately. I pulled out my phone. It was Yoongi Hyung.