HYYH STORYLINE - LINEAR TIMELINE

ly her | ly tear | ly answer

smeraldo/teaser | save me (summary)
the notes 1 | the notes 2
mots persona | mots 7

credits:
@ktaebwi [her] @doyoubangtan [tear] @BTSxPANDA [answer]
@acejeongkook [the notes 1] @Aeonian_V [persona]
@tteokminnie [7]

[important]: i’ve compiled a list of trigger warnings and sensitive

content found/seen in BU right here.
please go over it before continuing reading. no-spoiler version
here. I regularly update both lists.
I also want to note that in no way are any of the topics trivialized
or romanticized in BU.

~ feel free to tell me your questions and theories at @softkoo on

tumblr or @heartskoo on twt ! ~
Hoseok
30 August YEAR 9

I woke up and rubbed my eyes. The hyungs seemed to be

gesturing for me to quietly follow them. I actually wanted to sleep
some more, but I listened to what the hyungs said. I tiptoed out of
the room and past the hallway. The area was dark. I wondered what
time it was, but there was no way to know if it was long past
bedtime.

I climbed up the stairs and opened the iron doors that led to the
rooftop. Creak. The hyungs startled and froze at the sound, and so
did I. I looked around the place. We all huddled together on the
rooftop. "Why did you tell us to come here?" At my question, a big
hyung answered, "Just wait a bit, Jung Hoseok." It was at that
moment. The north-side sky lit up with a boom. Surprised, I closed
my eyes and shrunk in on myself. It also smelled like something was
burning. Someone yelled, "Wow!" and the big hyung scolded him,
telling him to be quiet. Through half-opened eyes, I looked up at
the northern sky. With another boom, stars appeared in the night
sky. "They're not stars, they're fireworks," hyung told me. The
fireworks continued to bloom*. I laid down on the floor of the
rooftop and looked up at the stars, the fire, the fireworks in the sky.
"Jung Hoseok is crying, he's crying." I could hear the hyungs teasing
me. "Hey." I wiped around my eyes with my sleeve. Without any
reason, more tears came out.
[TRANSLATOR NOTE: fireworks literally translate from korean as
fire flowers]

Seokjin
10 October YEAR 9

"Let's go, we have to get out of here!" I grabbed my friend’s

hand and ran to the rear door of our classroom. As I looked back
while running down the hall, I saw the men spilling out of the
classroom chasing us. "Stop! Stop right there!" Their voices seemed
to seize us by the back of our necks.

We frantically thought of where to go as we darted down the stairs.

The first destination that came to mind was the hill behind our
school. We just needed to cross the playground and go out to the
school gate and we would hit the bottom of the hill. Although it
wasn't that high, it was pretty rocky and rugged. After running
through the gate and rounding the corner at full speed, we ignored
the walking trail and jumped right into the bushes. We waded
through the dense limbs and kept running. We ran for what felt like
forever, finally stopping when the footsteps behind us were gone.

We collapsed on the ground covered with layers of dried leaves,

sweat dripping from our faces. "They won't be able to follow us
here, right?" My friend nodded, breathing heavily. We lifted our T-
shirts to wipe our faces with the hem. My friend's face was wet with
sweat and tears. His wrists were bluish black with bruises. The neck
of his T-shirt was ripped.

"Dad hasn't come home in over a week. Mom just keeps crying.
The cleaning lady and driver stopped coming. Aunt says that Dad's
company shut down. Those men came to our house last night. They
kept pressing the bell and yelling for Dad. We stayed inside with all
the lights off, and they kept swearing in front of the door. We
couldn’t sleep at all.” My friend cried through his whole story. I
couldn’t think of anything to say. All I could do was to tell him not
to cry.

It was shortly after the class had started when the front door
swung open and four or five men burst in. They were unruly and
rash. "Which one of you is Mr. Choi's son? Come on out with us."
Stunned, our teacher asked them to leave immediately, but they
simply ignored her. "We know you're here. Come on out right now."
Some of the kids leered at my friend sitting next to me and began
whispering. The men noticed and came towards us. "Can't you see
that we're in the middle of class? Please leave." Our teacher tried
to block them but one of the men pushed her hard to the
whiteboard. She fell to the ground.

The man who had shoved our teacher walked towards us in a

threatening manner. All the students' heads turned towards us. The
man snatched my friend's arm. "We'll take you to your dad and get
the money from him. Surely, he won't turn away his son." The men
were menacing, and the atmosphere was intimidating.
 I looked into my friend's face. He was trembling. Trembling hard
with his head bent low. He was my friend. I reached under the desk
and grabbed his hand. He looked up and I pulled his hand. "Let's
run."

The sky was getting darker and darker. No one seemed to be

chasing us. We pushed our way through the tree, to be chasing us.
We and bushes to the walking trail. An empty lot with exercise,
equipment appeared before us. I leaned against the chin-up bar and
my friend perched on a bench. "I'm afraid you'll get in trouble
because of me." My friend seemed uneasy when I told him I would
be fine. All I could think of in the classroom was to get my friend out
of there. I had to get him far away from those men. But, as we
started running away, I realized we had nowhere to go.

"Let's go to my place." It must've been around 9 p.m. as quite

some time had passed since the sun went down. I was starving. He
must have been, too. "Aren't your parents home? Won't you get in
trouble for taking me there?" "We can sneak in. If we get in trouble,
then we get in trouble." My house was not that far from the foot of
the hill. Soon, my house came into sight in the distance. "Go in right
behind when the gate opens and hide behind a tree. I'll open the
window for you later."

Mom was sitting on the couch in the living room. "Where have
you been? Your teacher called." Instead of answering her question,
I told her I was sorry. It was usually the quickest way to end a
conversation. Mom said Dad would be home any minute and went
into her room. My room was opposite their room with the living
room in the middle. I quickly went into my room and opened the
window.

We heard the front gate open while playing a computer game after
a snack of bread and milk. My friend looked at me with frightened
eyes. "It's okay. Dad never comes into my room." The door of my
room burst open before I finished speaking. We both sprang up
from our seats with fright.

"Are you Mr. Choi's son?" Dad continued without waiting for an
answer. "Come on out. Someone is here to take you." There was a
man standing by the door. I thought he was Mr. Choi at first but
quickly realized he wasn't. He was one of those men who had
marched into the classroom earlier. I looked up at Dad. He looked
exhausted, with knitted brows and a subtly quivering eyelids. It was
better not to bother him when he was in that mood. While I was
trying to read his face, the man came into my room and grabbed
my friend's shoulder. I got in front of my friend. "No, Dad, don't let
this man take him away. He is one of the bad people."

He just kept looking down at me and did not budge. "Please help
him, Dad. He is my friend." The man tried to pull my friend outside.
I held onto my friend's arm, and Dad grasped my shoulder. He
grasped it and pulled it hard. I had to let go of my friend's arm. He
was being dragged out of the door. I squirmed and writhed to break
free, but Dad strengthened his grip. "It hurts!" I screamed, but Dad
didn't let go. He just grasped my shoulder even tighter. Tears ran
down my face.

I looked up at Dad. He was like a massive grey wall. His face was
expressionless, with even the exhausted look now gone. He slowly
opened his mouth with his eyes fixed on me. "Seokjin, be a good
kid." He still had that blank look. But I knew what to do, what to do
to stop the pain.
 “Seokjin." I turned my head at my friend's cry. He escaped the
man's grip and was running towards my door. He was in tears. Dad,
with his one hand still gripping my shoulder, slammed the door shut
with his other hand. I apologized to him. "I'm sorry, Dad. I won't
make trouble again."

The next day, the seat next to mine was empty. My teacher said
he transferred to another school...

[THEORY: i think the flower Jin tries to protect in 'Fake Love' M/V
might represent him trying to protect his old friend in this note, and
eventually his new friends (BTS)]

Hoseok
23 July YEAR 10

Mom handed me a chocolate bar. “Hoseok, close your eyes tight

and don’t open them until you count to ten.”
[NOTE: shown in 'Highlight Reel 起承轉結']
Hoseok
23 July YEAR 10

As I counted to four, I began to hear the hallucinatory laughter.

That next moment, my childhood self held someone’s hand and
swept past me. I turned around quickly, but it was my classmates
that stared back. “Hoseok?” The teacher called my name. Only then
did I realise where I was. It was maths class. I was in the process of
counting the fruits drawn in my textbook. Five, six. I started
counting again, but as the number kept increasing, my voice shook
and my hands began to sweat. I kept remembering back to that
time.

I could not remember well the face of my mother I had seen

that day. I can only remember her passing a chocolate bar to me as
we saw the attractions of the amusement park. “Hoseok, count to
ten starting from now, and only then should you open your eyes.”
Once I counted and opened my eyes, my mother was not there. I
waited and waited but she did not return. Nine was the last number
I counted to. I only had to count one more, but my voice would not
come out. My ears started ringing and my eyesight became hazy.
The teacher motioned for me to keep going. My friends watched
me. I could not remember my mother’s face well. If I really did count
one more, my mother would never come look for me.

And just like that, I collapsed on the floor.

Taehyung
29 December YEAR 10

I took off my shoes, tossed my bag and entered the room. Dad
was really in there. I didn’t think about how long it had been, or
where he just came back from. I simply just ran into his embrace. I
have no memory of what happened next. Was it the alcohol smell
that came first, was it curses, or was it the slap. I had no idea what
was happening. There was the alcohol smell and there was the
ragged, foul breath. His eyes were bloodshot, beard grown
coarsely. He slapped me in the cheek with his big hand. He slapped
me in the cheek and asked what I was looking at. And then he lifted
me into the air. His eyes were terrifying, but I was too scared to cry.
It wasn’t dad. No, it was him. But it wasn’t. My feet were trembling
in the air. The next moment, my head crashed against the wall,
body slumping down to the floor. It felt like my head was bursting.
My vision went in and out and soon darkened. The only thing left in
my head was the sound of dad panting.

Jimin
6 April YEAR 11

I walked out the entrance of the Grass Flower Arboretum alone.

The weather was cloudy and so it was a bit cold but I felt good.
Though it was a picnic day, my parents were still busy. So in the
beginning I was a bit sad. But in the flower drawing competition, I
received a compliment, and my friends’ mums said that I was
dependable. And so from then on I thought I was a bit cool.

“Jimin, wait here. Teacher will come soon.” After the picnic, as
we were to leave the arboretum, the teacher warned me but I did
not wait. I was confident I could do it alone.

I grabbed onto the straps of my backpack tightly with both

hands and walked purposefully. It felt like everyone was staring at
me so I straightened my shoulders more. This was a long time after
the rain had started falling. My friends and their mums had already
gone, there was nobody to look after me, and my legs hurt. I used
my backpack to cover my head and I crouched down under a tree.
The rain fell harder and there were no people that walked past. In
the end, I ended up running through the rain. I could not see a
house or shop. The place I arrived at was the back entrance of the
arboretum. The side gate was open, and I could see something like
a storage space within it.

[NOTE: the sign of the Arboretum is seen in 'LIE - Short Film' as well
as in the Save Me webtoon]

Seokjin
21 July YEAR 12

The entrance door kept opening and closing. I kept staring at it,
sitting in the airport waiting room. People with suitcases passed by,
some wearing sunglasses. The electronic display board continued
to change with arrivals, delays, and cancellations The driver was
murmuring with his eyes fixed on his cell phone. "No word from him
yet." I looked down at my watch. It was more than an hour past the
time Dad promised he'd arrive.

As long as I could remember, I was always by myself. Dad was

busy and Mom was indifferent. They told me to do what I was told
and not try anything else. When I disobeyed, they scolded me with
silence. I wanted to please my parents.

Mom died not so long ago. Dad told me not to cry and didn't cry
himself. I tried to obey him, but it wasn't easy. He decided to send
me to my maternal grandmother's in the U.S. and didn't seem very
sad about it.

Dad's driver handed me my passport. It was time to leave. I

looked back as I headed for the departure gate. The entrance door
closed. The driver waved at me. The airplane finally began to speed
down the runway. Dad didn't come.

I looked out the tiny window by my seat. Clouds passed by, and
the sky turned pitch black. The flight attendant brought me a meal,
and the juice cup fell when we hit turbulence. Flustered, I asked for
some napkins. The flight attendant asked me if I was okay. My fried
rice and meat were soaked in juice. My hands were sticky and my
pants were all wet. "No," I whispered back, but the flight attendant
didn't seem to hear. She said not to worry as she took away my tray.
I nodded and kept looking down at the floor.

Namjoon
21 May YEAR 15

I snuck toward the front door. Grabbing the door handle, I

turned it carefully while paying close attention. I didn't hear any
sounds. Peering my head inside, I saw the house was dark. I stepped
one foot in the house. I called out, "Mom," but nobody answered. I
turned the lights on and looked around again. The time was past
nine. There was no way the house would be empty. "Mom," I called
out one more time but there was only silence. It was true that I was
home later than usual. Normally I would come home to help my
mom as soon as school ended, but just this once I wanted to go out
with my friends.
 So I ended up coming home late without telling them. But no
one was home. Feeling weirdly chilly, I held my arms with my palms
and stood in the dark living room. Suddenly, a phone started
ringing. The chill sunk in. The phone was going off, but for some
reason I got the weird feeling that I shouldn't answer it. A feeling
that if I answered, everything would change and I won't be able to
come back as the person I am now. But the phone kept ringing and
I ended up walking up to stand in front of it. And then I picked up
the receiver.

Yoongi
25 July YEAR 15

"Yoongi-ya." I sat down in front of the piano as soon as I entered

the living room. I didn't even have time to wipe my sweat. I wiped
my sticky hands on my T-shirt. My mom opened the sheet music. I
couldn't see the sheet music very well. I blinked my eyes.

Until now, I had been running under the scorching sun for an
hour. I couldn't hear my own breaths over the sound of my heart
pounding. The sweat ran down my spine and my back was clammy.
My fingers trembled erratically. "Min Yoongi." I snapped out of it at
the sound of my mom's voice. "You can't even play Chopin properly,
and you think this is time for you to be composing?" My mom hit
the sheet music as she spoke. What have I been playing until now?
I couldn't really recall.

"Again, from the beginning," Mom said in a low voice. "Again.

Again. Again." She kept hitting the same page over and over. Sweat
kept pouring from my body that hadn't cooled down yet. My mind
was blank and I felt like throwing up. I don't know if that was why.
I ignored the sheet music, ignored my mom, and let out the
emotions that were about to burst out of me into my fingers. My
mom grabbed my hands and pulled them away from the keyboard
saying, "This is not the emotion!"

"Please stop!"I screamed as I stood up out of the seat. My mom

stared at me as if frozen in place. "Stop! Just stop!" I just let out
whatever words came up. I even jumped where I stood and tore at
my head. Then in the end, I threw my mom's trophy at the piano.
One piano key broke and popped off, skimming past my cheek.
Namjoon
21 June YEAR 16

I darted down the stairs from the 13th floor. I was out of breath
and my legs were trembling. I collapsed in the shadow of the
entrance to the apartment building. I started late today because
school got out later than usual. I had to go full speed to post fliers
in all four apartment buildings by the deadline. If I didn't, my boss
would be waiting for me with a long lecture. I had laboriously
coaxed him into hiring a middle school student. Surely, I couldn't let
myself get fired at this point. Mom quit her job at the restaurant
last week. We had to pay for the doctor's bills for Dad, not to
mention the overdue electricity and gas. I kept nodding off in the
shadow. There were kids playing basketball in the far distance. I got
up again. Time to run. I recited to myself. I must do it. I can do it.

Yoongi
19 September YEAR 16
 The red flames spiralled high. The house that I lived in until this
morning was in a blaze. Those who recognised me raced towards
me screaming. The neighbours made frantic steps. There was no
access and so the fire engine could not enter, they said. I stopped
in my tracks.

The end of summer. The beginning of autumn. The sky was blue
and the air was dry. What I was supposed to think, what I was
supposed to feel, what I was supposed to do – I didn’t know any of
these things. And then, the thought: ‘Oh, mum’. That next moment,
with a crash, the house became rubble. The house was taken by the
blaze – no, the house, ceiling, pillars, walls, the room I had lived in
had all become the blaze itself, and like a house built of sand, it
collapsed. I watched it, struck dumb.

Someone pushed me aside to hurry forward. They said the fire

engine had entered. Another grabbed hold of me and spurred me
to answer. That person stared me into the eyes and screamed
something at me, but I couldn’t hear anything.
 “Is someone inside?” I watched that person dumbly. “Is your
mum inside?” The person grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook
me. I don’t know how I answered. “No. Nobody’s inside.” “What do
you mean?” A mother from the neighbourhood asked. “What about
your mum? Where did your mum go?” “Nobody’s inside.” The
words I uttered, I didn’t know of them. Someone pushed me aside
and hurried forward

Jimin
20 August YEAR 17

It was a mild day. The sky was blue and the air was cool. With
my mom and dad, I got in the car and left the house. Exciting music
filled the car and I opened the backseat window to reach my hand
out. Yellow ginkgo leaves came down like rain. I moved my hand
quickly to try and catch the falling ginkgo leaves, but I wasn't
successful. My mom turned around and said, "Jimin-ah, you're
going to get hurt doing that. What are you going to do if you get
hurt and can't go up on stage?" I walked up on the stage. A bright,
white spotlight shined down on me from above my head. The floor
echoed to the booming beat. I danced amongst many of my friends.
We soared up together, then landed together, and turned to the
left to face each other. My friend and I were both out of breath. But
still, we looked at each other and smiled. People bursted in
applause. We went out toward the audience and bowed our heads.
Some distance away, my mom and dad were standing and clapping.
They looked at me and smiled.

I opened my eyes to see the ceiling of the hospital room. Tears

welled up. I knew it was a dream, but I didn't want to wake up. I
wanted to stay just a little longer in that applause, and under those
ginkgo leaves — but the morning came inevitably, and the dream
disappeared.

Jungkook
11 September YEAR 17

I waited for ten days, but the birthday card never came. I
opened the bottom drawer and lifted a notebook to find four cards.
Jungkook, Happy Birthday, from Dad. I read these five words over
and over again.
 It was winter, and I was 7 years old. The voices from the living
room woke me up. My room was in the attic, and I could reach my
parents' room by going down five stairs and opening the sliding
door. I reached out to open the door and stopped. Although I was
still young, I could sense from the heavy atmosphere seeping
through the door that this wasn't a good time.

Dad said that it was too difficult to go on and that the world was
too heavy for him to bear. Mom didn't reply. She was probably
crying silently or not moving at all. A long silence ensued. Dad said
he'd be crushed if he went on living like this and he should leave
now. Mom vehemently protested, calling him the most
irresponsible man. Then, I heard my name. "What are you going to
do about Jungkook?" I waited for a long time behind the sliding
door, but Dad didn't answer. Then I heard the sound of the front
door opening. "I'm completely empty, and there's nothing I can do
for Jungkook." Those were my dad's last words.

I ran back up the stairs to the attic. I moved my chair against the
wall right under the window and stood on it. Dad was walking down
the sloping road. First his legs disappeared, and then his waist,
chest, and shoulders. It seemed as if an unknown world beyond the
road was slowly swallowing him whole.

Someone jerked the door of my room open, and I instinctively

pushed the drawer with my foot. It was Mom. She said no birthday
card will ever come and Dad was just that kind of person. It was her
usual repertoire. Dad was feeble-minded, incompetent, and most
importantly, a social misfit who deserted us… Mom was right. No
birthday card will ever come. I was the world that was too heavy for
him to bear - that world that he gave up on. A child who can never
be a reason to endure it all. That was me.

Namjoon
2 May YEAR 18

I was coming into the alley when I saw furniture and household
items piled up on the ground afar. “Namjoon, what happened
there?” Father said while breathing out heavily. We were on our
way back from taking father to hospital. Father had a hard time
walking even 100 meters from the bus stop to home, but he ran
towards home with no hesitation. Mother who was squadding
behind the household items piled along the wall stood up the
moment she noticed me. “Namjoon what do we do.” She told me
that my brother got caught in a fight with the son of the owner of
the house who came to collect the delayed rent.

I escorted my father to the storage room behind the town

market. While I was moving the furniture, mother organized the
dishes and food. All the items that were in a house with two rooms
got stacked up in the storage room. There were things I wanted to
throw away, but to do that we needed money. When we were
finished with everything it turned night. Sweat ran down my back
as Mother handed chopsticks so I can eat something but nothing
was going down my throat.

The storage room was suffocating so I went out and sat on the
bench in front of the market. “Namjoon. Where did Namhyun go.”
With mother's question I screamed at her telling her how I would
know. Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon. I was sick of it. I regretted
telling my brother not to let anything make him down. Even if we
were to stay at the storage for few days, what do we do after, I
couldn't think of anything. The market owner put one can of beer
down and went in.

Jimin
10 December YEAR 18

I wiped off the steam that was on the car window as mom was
telling me that we almost arrived. Outside I was able to see a sign
that said "Songjoojaeil Middle School." Mom told me there was no
more schools in Moonhyun that I can attend and it was a big relief
that Songjoojaeil Middle School accepted me. After multiple times
of being hospitalized and getting discharged, I moved schools many
times. How long can I last in this school this time? While thinking,
we passed the gate and entered the field. Guessing it was due to
the cold, there was no one. Mom parked the car next to where pull
up bar and swings were.

As I got out of the car, I looked at the pull up bar. If I look back
at my childhood, there is one memory I remember clearly more
than others. A blue sky that would probably come out in fairy tales
and white clouds that came towards me in a very alarming speed.
Before what happened at Grass Flower Arboretum I loved the
playground to the point it was extreme. According to mom I went
out in the morning and played till it was night time. The favorite was
the swings. If I kicked the ground hard I was close to the sky to the
point it was dizzy. Although it was scary I liked the giddy feeling.

One day I wonder what it feels like to have a full spin riding the
swing. It was also something no one in the town was able to do. I
told my friends to push hard as possible, put strength in my body,
and got higher and higher. The blue sky and white clouds ran
towards me. When I flew the highest, I got dizzy and fell off the
swing. When I woke up I was laying on the sand. A handful of sand
went in my mouth, I scraped my knees, bled, but for some reason
it wasn't painful. I was just frustrated how I couldn't swing a full
circle.

Jimin
10 December YEAR 18

As if I was peeking at someone else's memories, I thought about

myself riding the swings. Perhaps the Park Jimin who rode the swing
very hard was living the exact way he was with the exact same
personality somewhere I don't know. While I was looking at the
swings and having those thoughts, I heard mom calling me. I headed
towards the entrance of the school. Songjoojaeil Middle School. It
was my fifth school.

Seokjin
2 March YEAR 19

There was a damp smell in the principal’s office where dad led
me into. Ten days after returning from the US, I was told yesterday
that due to differences in the school system, I would be held back a
year. “Please look after him.” Dad put his hands onto my shoulder
and I unknowingly flinched. “School is a dangerous place. There
have to be regulations”. The principal looked straight at me. The
wrinkled skin around his cheeks and mouth quivered whenever he
talked and inside his tanned lips was a whole dark red. “Doesn’t
Seokjin here think so?” I hesitated at the sudden question and dad
immediately squeezed my shoulder harder. His grip was so strong
that it made my neck muscles throbbed. “I believe he will do well.”
The principal continued to look me into the eye and dad’s grip
slowly getting stronger and stronger. I clenched my fists at the
bone-breaking pain. My body was shaking and breaking out in a
cold sweat. “You have to tell me. Seokjin needs to become a good
student.” The principal looked at me with a smileless face. “I
understood.” I narrowly squeezed out an answer and for one
moment the pain was gone. There was the sound of dad and the
principal laughing. I couldn’t lift my head up. I looked down the
dad’s brown shoes and the principal’s black ones. I didn’t know
where the light was coming from, but they were glinting. I was
scared of that glint.

Jimin
12 March YEAR 19

It had been several days since the new semester began, but my
classmates were still strangers to me. It was not hard to guess that
they were gossiping about me. I tried to act indifferent but to no
avail. "We heard you live in an apartment across the river. Why did
you come to this school?" I pretended I didn't hear the question. I
had nothing to say. I just continued walking past with my head bent.
"Hey, didn't you hear me?" I quickened my pace. I had transferred
from one school to another as I had been in and out of the hospital.
There were no more schools left near my neighborhood to transfer
to.

I headed for the classroom-turned-storage room that I cleaned

as a penalty for being late for school. As I opened the door, I was
startled to hear voices inside. Who could be here at this hour? I was
about to silently close the door and turn around when someone
called my name. "Hey, you're Park Jimin, right?" They were the
senior students who cleaned the classroom with me for being tardy.
I wasn't sure whether I should answer them or just leave.
Somebody tapped me on my shoulder. "Aren't you going in?"
Without realizing it, I walked into the classroom. "It's good to see
you again. Don't you remember me? I'm Taehyung. We're in the
same grade."

Before I knew it, I was sitting down on a chair. The storage room
door continued to open and close. The seven students who did the
cleaning together were all there. Nobody asked questions. We just
listened to music, read books, danced, and fooled around. It felt as
if we'd been hanging out together forever.

Yoongi
15 March YEAR 19

The food was exceptionally good today. It was just a typical

school lunch but strangely it also wasn’t. I didn’t show it. That
wasn't something that matches me. I sat on the chair and spoon
was between my fingers like I was even too lazy to hold up a spoon.
Taehyung and Jungkook made a fuss about closing the curtain
saying the sun ray was coming in and changing their seat, due to
that dust blew. Namjoon yelled, telling them to be quiet at least
when we are eating. I thought while holding my spoon. When was
the last time I ate with a light heart.

As far as I remember there was no conversation at our family

dinner table. Not even words such as- the food is good, can I have
some more, it was a nice meal- nothing went in between. Eating
was considered nothing more or less than trying to maintain life in
our family. Min Yoongi, don't talk in front of your food. I don't
remember the last time my father said that to me. The only sound
was that of putting down the spoon loudly. He did not raise his voice
or get angry. No, I don't think he even looked at me. Even then I
didn't open my mouth. I stopped what I was saying and instead
shoved a big spoon of rice in my mouth. While doing so I bit the side
of my mouth. I could taste blood. It hurted and I think tear came
out, but I didn't say I was in pain. I wasn't supposed to say anything
in front of the table. I forcefully swallowed the rice that tasted like
blood.

Someone took food from my plate. I cringed without much

thought. It didn't mean I didn't like it or got annoyed. It was just my
normal reaction for every event. “Yoongi is mad.” Hoseok jokingly
said, “What are you going to do Taehyung?” and Taehyung
exaggerated on being apologetic. It was something Hoseok and
Taehyung would say. It's fine. “You eat everything.” I talked without
thinking. Then loud conversations went by and burst of laughter
came. No one noticed. That I talked while eating.
Jungkook
28 May YEAR 19

“Hyung, what are your dreams?” They turned around as I asked.

No, I need to write like a researcher for dreams. As I mumbled
Seokjin opened his mouth starting with ‘hmm’. “I don't think I have
a dream. Maybe if I'm hoping, becoming a good person?” He
mumbled his words if he was embarrassed. When he said that,
Yoongi said as he was lying on the piano chair, “You don't need to
have a dream. I don't dream such thing. It will all end somehow.”
Everyone started laughing because it was something Yoongi would
say.

“I'm going to be a superhero. I'm going to save the world from

the bad guys.” Hoseok blickered with Taehyung who went up the
chair making pose putting his one arm up saying he will get hurt and
comedown fast. And added. “I want to live happily after finding my
mom. Wanting to be happy is my dream.” Hyung gave such a big
smile that looked so happy. “Then are you unhappy now?” Jimin
asked. Hoseok replied “ah does that turn out like that?” And gave a
thinking hard look. “Then what's your dream?” “Me?” Jimin looked
surprised and blinked. “I wanted to be a president when I was in
kindergarten but now I don't know what I want to be.”

Now it Namjoon who was the only one left. Guessing he felt
everyone's stares hyung shrugged and opened his mouth, “I want
to say good things but I don't really have a dream. I just would like
my wage for my part time job to increase.” I looked down at my
announcement. The future job section is separated by student and
parent section. I don’t know what I want to be. I didn't know what
to write.

Yoongi
12 June YEAR 19

Though we had blindly skipped school and left the premises,

there was nowhere to go. The day was hot, there was no money,
and there was nothing to do. It was Namjoon who said we should
go to the sea. The younger boys looked excited, but I was
ambivalent. “Do you have money?” At my words, Namjoon made
everyone empty their pockets. A couple of coins, a couple of notes.
Didn’t look like we could go. It was probably Taehyung that said we
could just walk there. Namjoon’s expression was begging us to think
as the rest chattered uselessly about things, laughing, and
pretending to roll around on the ground as they walked. I didn’t feel
like responding so I just lagged behind. The sun was scorching.
Because it was the middle of the day, even the lampposts did not
create any shade, and on a refurbished road, cars kicked up dirt as
they passed by.

“Let’s go there.” This time too, it was Taehyung. Or Hoseok. I

was uninterested so I didn’t look closely, but it was one of the two.
Drooping my neck and hitting the floor as I walked, I crashed into
someone and almost fell over, at which point I had to lift up my
head. Jimin stood there, straight. As if he had seen something very
scary, his facial muscles were trembling. “Are you okay?” I asked,
but he did not seem able to hear me. Where Jimin was looking,
there was a sign that said the arboretum was 2.2km away.

“I don’t want to walk.” I could hear Jungkook speak. From

Jimin’s face, sweat dripped down. He looked as if he would simply
collapse, his face terrified. What was this? I felt strange. “Park
Jimin!” I called for him, but just as I thought, he was unable to move
an inch. Lifting my head, I looked again at the sign.

“Hey, the weather’s hot, what would you go to the arboretum

for? Let’s just go to the sea.” I spoke as if apathetic. I did not know
what the arboretum was, but it felt like we should not go. I did not
know the reason but Jimin was acting strange. “I said we’re out of
money.” At my words, Hoseok replied. “Let’s just walk, as I said.”
Taehyung had heard. “If we just walk to the station, I think it’d work
out.” Namjoon spoke. “But in return, we’ll skip dinner.” Jungkook
and Taehyung made a crying sound as Seokjin laughed. Jimin only
started moving again when everyone angled their way to the train
station. Drooping his head and bringing in his shoulders as he
walked, Jimin looked like a very small child. I looked up again at the
sign. The arboretum. The letters were getting further away again.

Jungkook
12 June YEAR 19

The sun was still beating down when we arrived at the train
station by the sea. Our shadows were almost invisible, hovering
around our feet. There was nowhere to hide from the sun. I thought
I heard the roar of waves, and soon a stretch of beautiful sandy
beach unfolded before our eyes. It was the beginning of the
summer. Early vacationers were already perched under parasols.
There is something about the sea that makes me well up with
emotions. Taehyung and Hoseok yelled out in excitement and
dashed ahead. As they beckoned, Jimin and Seokjin joined them.

They called out to me. "Jungkook!" I waved at them and smiled

joyfully. Or, I smiled to pretend that I was joyful. I was still clumsy
at revealing my feelings and adapting to strange environments.
Someone once told me that I acted like a timid, intimidated child. It
was the same that day. I felt a bit ill at ease in the presence of the
others, like I didn't belong there.

There wasn't much to do on the beach, our impulsive

destination. "Let's race." Hoseok suggested suddenly and ran
ahead. Everyone else gave chase but soon gave up. It was too hot.
Namjoon brought a torn parasol he found somewhere. All seven of
us lay down under the parasol. Sunlight passed through the tears in
the parasol. Round spots of sunlight continued to move bit by bit,
and we wriggled to dodge them.

"Do you want to go see this rock?" Hoseok held up his phone.
There was a photo of a large rock on a beach. “They say, if you yell
out your dream towards the sea while standing on this rock, it will
come true." Jimin took the phone and looked at the photo. "Isn't it
a bit far? Its at least 3.5km here." Yoongi rolled over. "I'm not going.
I don't have any dream in the first place. Even if I did, I wouldn't
walk 3.54 in this heat… No way." Taehyung sprang to his feet. “I’m
going."

We began to walk under the torn parasol. The sandy beach was
burning under the scorching sun, and the air was so hot we could
barely breathe. We marched on the heath like stragglers, with our
feet sinking into the burning sand. Hoseok attempted to make
jokes, but no one responded. Taehyung dropped down to the
ground and declared he was giving up. Namjoon picked him up to
his feet again and gave him a push on the back. All our faces were
bright red and dripping with sweat. We tried fanning ourselves with
the hem of our T-shirts, but it only blasted us with more hot air.
Nevertheless, we kept moving forward.

Sometime before, I'd asked the others what their dreams were.
Seokjin said he dreamed of becoming a good person. Yoongi said it
was OK to have no dream. Hoseok just wished to be happy. And
Namjoon. What did he tell us? I can't recall, but it was nothing
special. Basically, none of us had a dream to pursue. So, why were
we walking along this hot beach under the scorching sun to get to
some rock 3.5km away, which supposedly makes dreams come
true?

Along the way, we threw off the parasol that Namjoon, Hoseok,
and Seokjin had taken turns holding. It did block the sun a little, but
it was just too heavy with its steel handle. "Stop doing that." That's
what Yoongi said to me while we were taking a short break after
ditching the parasol. At first, I was puzzled. In fact, I rarely talked
with Yoongi and didn't even realize he was talking to me. Yoongi
showed me his fingers. "They'll become like mine." He also had raw
cuticles from biting his nails. I hesitantly put my hands into my
pockets. I didn't respond because I didn't know what to say.
 "What's your dream?" Yoongi asked. "You didn't tell us yours."
He didn't seem genuinely interested in my answer. He just seemed
to be asking to keep the conversation going. "I don't know. I've
never thought about it." "Well, there's nothing wrong with that."

"By the way, what is a dream?" I asked after some hesitation.

Yoongi answered in his drawling voice. "I told you I don't have one."
"No, I mean…” I hesitated and continued. "I was wondering what a
dream is. What do people mean by a dream?" He looked at me and
then turned his gaze towards the sky, frowning. "Something you
want to achieve? I guess." Hoseok took over, waving his mobile
phone at us. "The dictionary definitions are first, 'an imaginary
series of events you experience while you are asleep'; second, 'a
situation or an ideal you hope to realize'; and third, 'false
expectations or thoughts that are almost unlikely or completely
unlikely to turn into reality."

“Isn't the third definition odd? How can something unlikely to

turn into reality be called a dream?” Hoseok responded. “People
sometimes tell you to wake up from your dream. So, if you're
dreaming of turning back and going home before we get to the rock,
wake up from your dream!”

Some of us laughed out loud, but the rest showed no reaction,

probably because they had no more energy left. “That's weird. How
can something that you want to achieve most in your life and
something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream?"
Yoongi said, giggling. Maybe it means that people are that
desperate. They just can't give up on their dreams even though they
know they won't come true. Don't ever try to have a dream." I
looked at him in surprise. "How come?” Yoongi had started biting
his nails and, feeling conscious of my glance, he put his hands in his
pockets. "Because it's tough having one."

I was curious about why he bit his nails but didn't ask. Instead, I
looked down at my own fingers. It'd been a habit since my
childhood to hurt myself. I don't remember when it first started. All
I can recall is the distinct feeling of cutting my finger on a knife one
day. After the painful sensation passed, blood spurted from the
wound. It felt numb and tingling at the same time. Mom took me to
the hospital, and I had the wound stitched up, sterilized, and
dressed. She pretended to make a fuss in front of the doctor but
didn't make me dinner or help me take my medicine after we got
home. I didn't really expect her to. She'd been like that since Dad
left.

The wound healed very slowly because I kept pressing it with

the tips of my nails. Every time I pressed the wound, a sharp pain
shot through my finger. It sometimes hurt so much that I was close
to tears. But it also helped me feel awake again. Even now, I
sometimes feel hollow. Everything seems meaningless and all the
energy drains out of me.

"How much longer do we have to walk?" At Taehyung's

question, Hoseok seemed to be at a loss. "It's odd. I'm sure it must
be somewhere around here." We all stood there and looked
around. Only the sound of waves breaking on the beach filled the
void of silence under the blue sky. Hundreds of thousands of
pebbles were scattered across the beach like grains of sand. The
rock in the photo was nowhere to be seen.
 "Should we keep going just a bit further?" "I can't move another
step." "I'm starving and thirsty." In the middle of our conversation,
Jimin heaved a sigh with his eyes fixed on his phone. Taehyung, who
was looking at Jimin's phone, violently kicked at a pebble with a
hollow face. Jimin read the article aloud. A high-end resort will be
built on this beach, and the construction company blew the rock to
pieces because it obstructed the view from the first and second
floors of the resort. We took a sweeping look around all at once.
Yellow bands were installed all along the beach to mark that the
area was designated as a development zone, with mammoth
excavators roaming about in the background. A sign that read
"Seawall Construction" came into view.

"I guess we came to the right place." Hoseok said, tapping a

pebble with the tip of his sneaker. All these pebbles scattered
across the beach must be what's left of that blown-up rock. "It's OK.
There's no such thing as a rock that makes dreams come true
anyways." Namjoon consoled Hoseok, lightly tapping his shoulder.
"We didn't have any dreams in the first place." "No possibility of
realizing them even if we did." "It's a luxury for us to dream."
Everyone tried to say something positive, but it wasn't working. We
weren't expecting much, but we didn't come all the way here to see
this, either.

Yoongi, who told me not to have dreams because they're too

tough, was no different. After looking at the sea blankly for some
minutes, he began to bite his nails again. He seemed completely
unaware of what he was doing. "Yoongi." He tamed around to look
at me. "Don't...." My next words were interrupted by the loud crash
of a drilling sound. We all turned around at the same time. They
were resuming the construction work. The loud crash sounded as if
it was coming from a massive solid rock being drilled and made the
surrounding air roll and pitch heavily.

Yoongi frowned and tapped my shoulder. "What did you say?"

Yoongi mumbled something. "Don't do that." I cupped my hands
around my mouth and yelled. Yoongi didn't seem to have heard me
and shook his head again, flowning. I was going to yell again, but he
already stopped biting his nails I could see the sea beyond his
shoulders. The countless pebbles crunched under my feet. The rock
must've been huge, powerful, and old enough to make people's
dreams me true. But now, it was no more than a pile of gravel. “Is
the world tough for you, too?" I asked. As expected, the
earthshaking rumble of the drill swallowed my voice. Yoongi's
puzzled look told me he didn't understand. I screamed again. "Do
you want to give up on this world, too?" He murmured something
this time, but I couldn't make out what it was. I shook my head, and
Yoongi yelled again. Looking at our mime, Hoseok and Taehyung
burst into laughter. Their laughter was also inaudible, but their
faces showed their mood.

The next minute, we were all looking out onto the sea and
shouting our dreams. Hoseok covered his ears with both hands and
opened his mouth wide. He seemed to be competing with the
drilling sound, but it was inaudible. It the same for Taehyung, Jimin,
and Namjoon. Each of us cried out a story that would never reach
any destination. I standing behind Yoongi and Seokjin at first and
walked past them to the point where the waves rolled in. All of my
senses came alive. The others' voices became entangled and
formed an intricate web with the somewhat fishy but refreshing
scent of the sea and the strong breeze winding round my fingers.
Before I knew it, I was screaming out onto the sea. Amidst the
thundering drilling sound, I couldn't even hear my dream was
about.

Then, the drilling sound stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

The entire world became silent, as if the noise had been cut away
clean with a knife. Just like that. But our cries were not in perfect
order. Taehyung coughed hard as if he swallowed the wrong way
while trying to close his mouth in a hurry. Someone's voice made
an absurdly high note. The last word heard was, “…please!" by
Seokjin. Instantly, we all closed our mouths. For a fleeting second,
no one moved. Then, we burst into laughter together. We held our
sides with laughter, all pointing at one another.

"Let's take a photo here." At Seokjin's suggestion, we stood in a

row with the sea as our background. Seokjin set the timer and came
running up. Click! This day in the sweltering heat of early summer
became imprinted on our memories in this photo. The way back
was shorter than the way to the rock. Just when we thought we
were about halfway, the deserted parasol appeared. Soon, the train
station came into sight.
 "Can I keep the photo?" Seokjin took the polaroid out of his bag
and wrote "June 12" on the back. "Your dream that you yelled out,
it will come true." I looked up at him. "Do you know what I said?"
Seokjin just tapped me on my shoulder without saying anything and
strode ahead.
[NOTE: you can see the construction site in various scenes but most
notably in 'Prologue'. Tae jumps off one of the observatories in
'Run' M/V and Jin stands on it in 'Euphoria']

Seokjin
25 June YEAR 19

On the classroom window sill there was a flower pot, I didn't

know who brought it, taking space. Who could be a person from my
brothers who will bring a flower pot. I took my cell phone out. I was
able to mostly see green grass from the dark classroom due to no
electricity, the unclear light that came through the dirty window.
The picture taken from my phone didn't come out well. It wasn't
just because of the phone. I always had in mind that pictures can't
bring out what human eyes can see.
As I approached the pot I saw letter as I held up the pot. "Hoseok's
Flower Pot" showed on the pot. It made me smile. If there was one
person who would bring a flower pot it can be only Hoseok. I looked
around after I put down the pot until the letter H wasn't visible. I
did not notice at first, but the window was covered with graffiti. Not
only window but the wall too, and even the ceiling had graffiti.
‘Accepted or Death’. The name of the person in one side love, date,
and so many other names that were not readable anymore.

This classroom couldn't be a storage room from the beginning.

It probably was a room where students took lessons and was
emptied out by afternoon. It would have been empty the whole
summer and when it was day of school starting the student would
have come in the room all loud and chit chatting. Even back then
was there student like us who would get in trouble for being tardy
and missing class. Was there teachers who would brutally beat
students, endless tests, and homework. And was there someone
like me. A person who would talk to the principal about my friends.
In the middle of all these names I wondered if there was my father's
name. This school was also my father's home school. Father was a
person who believed that attending the same high school, same
college, generation after generation would bring elegance to the
tradition of the family. After skimming through the names I found
father's name. Left wall in the center between those few names.
Under that its said a phrase:
'It all started from here'

Jimin
30 August YEAR 19

While Hoseok was on the phone, I played around, kicking the

ground coated with hyung’s shadow. He chuckled and made a face
that said “Park Jimin has grown so much.” It took two hours to walk
from school to home. Less than 30 minutes by bus and can even be
shortened to 20 if I take the main road. But hyung always insisted
on taking the path that has us go through a winding alley, passing a
low hill and crossing the footbridge. After getting discharged from
the hospital, I transferred to another school last year. The school
was far from my house and there was no one I knew. I thought it
was okay. I thought it wasn’t any big deal, after all, I had already
changed schools several times and who knows when I would be
hospitalized again.
 But then I got to know hyung. It was not long after the new
semester started. He casually approached me and walked with me
for two hours. Not until much later did I find out our houses weren’t
in the same direction. I couldn’t ask him why. I hoped for the
shadow that walks by my side, the two hours walking together
under the sun, to last longer even just a day.

Hyung was still on the phone, I kicked his shadow again and ran
away. He ended the call and started chasing me. The ice cream melt
under the sun and the sound of cicadas tingled in my ears.
Suddenly, I was scared. How many of these days are left?

Taehyung
20 March YEAR 20

I slid down the corridor, to the point you could hear the thwack
thwack sound on the floor. And then I stopped. I could see Namjoon
standing in front of ‘our classroom’. Our classroom. Though nobody
else knew, I called that place our classroom. Me, my hyungs, and
Jungkook, the classroom for us seven. I approached silently. I was
thinking of surprising him.
 “Principal!” As I took my fifth footstep or so, a hurried voice
could be heard through the classroom window left ajar. It seemed
like Seokjin. Was it that Seokjin was speaking to the principal? In
our classroom? Why? Then I could hear Yoongi’s name and mine,
and Namjoon sucking in a breath as if surprised. As if he could hear
my noiseless footsteps, Seokjin threw open the door. I could not
see Namjoon’s expression. I hid and watched them. As Seokjin
opened his mouth, as if to deny something, Namjoon held up his
hand and spoke. “It’s okay.” Seokjin made an expression as if
confused. “There must have been a reason for you to do so.” With
those words, Namjoon swept past Seokjin into the classroom. I
could not believe it. Seokjin had told the principal what Yoongi and
I had done for the past few days. He had explained everything: that
we had skipped class, jumped over the barrier, and had fought with
some kids. But Namjoon said it was okay.

“What are you doing here?” Turning around in surprise, I

realised it was Hoseok and Jimin. Hoseok pretended to be even
more surprised than myself as he hung his arm around my shoulder.
I was dragged into the classroom by Hoseok. Namjoon and Seokjin
were speaking to each other before looking back to see us. Seokjin
awkwardly stood up before saying an emergency had arisen, then
left. I studied Namjoon’s expression. He who had been watching
Seokjin’s back as he left looked at us with a smile as if nothing had
occurred. In that moment, I had this thought: there must be a
reason Namjoon is acting like that. He knows much more than me,
is much smarter than me, and is much more of an adult than me.
And this is our classroom. I pasted a square smile on my face – the
one everyone laughed at me, saying I looked like an idiot – and
walked into the classroom. I decided not to tell anyone that I had
heard that conversation.

Namjoon
15 May YEAR 20

I walked across the storage classroom, which had become a

hideout for us who had nowhere to go, and set upright a few chairs.
I picked up the desk that had fallen down and wiped the dust with
my palm. The fact that it’s the last time always makes people
sentimental. This will be the last day I come to school. We have
decided to move two weeks ago. Who knows, maybe I would never
be able to return here. Maybe I would never be able to meet the
hyungs and dongsaengs again.

I folded the paper in half, put it down on the desk and picked up
the pencil, but I didn’t know what to say, only time passing by. As I
was scribbling down some useless words, the pencil lead broke with
a snap. “You must live on.” The lead broke and before I knew it, I
was scribbling down on the paper, smudged with what looked like
fragments. In between the black lead power and the scribble
scattered messy stories, stories of poverty, parents, dongsaeng, my
move.

I crumpled the piece of paper, put it in my pocket and stood up.

A cloud of dust rose as I pushed the desk. I was about to turn around
and leave, but went to breathe onto the window and left three
words. No farewell would be enough, no words needed to be said
to convey all and everything. See you again. Rather than a promise,
it was a wish.
Taehyung
7 June YEAR 20
This stupid dog. He couldn't wait for a quick moment. I searched
the whole town but I couldn't find Doobu. I checked the time and
20 minutes has already passed. Where can a two month old puppy
go in 20 minutes. In the hot summer sun ray, sweat was dripping.
My throat was sore from screaming Doobu with my lungs out. I lost
grip on the leash for a short moment while checking my phone.
When I turned around Doobu was already gone. I started to run
again. Checked every small street and even checked inside gates
that were opened. "Doobu!" I screamed loudly. Only passing by
people looked back.

The whole time running I blamed Doobu for being a stupid dog.
Even got angry that it was because he was a mutt. But even that
moment I knew it wasn't Doobu's fault. It was my fault. I was not
paying attention. I didn't look and let go of the leash. While talking
about non-important stuff and laughing I didn't even realize Doobu
was gone. Did Doobu purposely escape? As I reached to that point
of thought I stopped. Doobu wasn't enjoying living with me. Living
together was only my happiness, for Doobu it could have been
nothing more or less than getting separated from his family.

With the sound of running and I heard Doobu barking. At first I

thought I was hallucinating. But that was not a hallucination or an
imagination, I saw Doobu running from the corner of the street.
From running through the steep road with a body of 2 month old,
his ears were flipped back and his mouth was wide open. "Doobu!"
I shouted loudly as I kneeled down to get lower. Doobu ran into my
arms. "Where did you go? How did you come here? You
remembered my smell?" The strange feeling wrapped around me
when, he, who came into my arms started to lick my palm. 'For
Doobu I am the only family he can rely on. I can be reliable for
someone. I can be a place to return.' I hugged Doobu more tightly
as he tried to get out.
[NOTE: Tae's puppy seen in 'Stigma Short Film']
Jungkook
25 June YEAR 20

I stroked the piano keys, smearing my hands with dust. I put

some force into the tips of my fingers and the sound that came out
was nothing like what hyung had played before. It’s been 10 days
since he last went to school. I heard he was expelled today. Neither
Namjoon nor Hoseok told me anything, and I couldn’t ask them, as
if I was scared of something. That day two weeks ago when the
teacher opened the door and entered our hideout place, there
were only hyung and me here. It was parents visiting day. I didn’t
want to be in the classroom so I blindly headed to the hideout.
Hyung didn’t even look back, he just kept playing the piano and I
moved two desks together, lying on top and closed my eyes
pretending to sleep. Hyung and the piano seemed different but at
the same time they were also one, so much that I couldn’t even
think of separating them. Somehow listening to him playing the
piano made me want to cry.

Feeling my tears about to fall, I rolled over, but then the door
slammed open and the piano sound cut off. I was slapped in the
cheek, staggering backwards and ended up falling down. I curled up
to endure the abuse, but then the voice suddenly stopped. Looking
up, hyung was pushing the teacher’s shoulder and standing in front
of me. Over his shoulder was the teacher’s stunned face.
I pressed the piano keys. I tried to mimic the song hyung used to
play. Did he really quit school? Will he never come back? Hyung said
a few hits, a few kicks was just common to him. If I hadn’t been
there, would he not stand up to the teacher? If I hadn’t been there,
would hyung still be playing the piano here?
[NOTE: scene is from Save Me webtoon ep.7]

Yoongi
25 June YEAR 20

All of a sudden, I opened the door, went to the desk and took
out a bag from the bottom drawer. I flipped the bag and shook it,
and a piano key fell out with a thud. I threw the half-burned key
into the trash can and lied down on the bed. My seething heart did
not cool down, breathing a mess and fingers stained with soot.
 There was one time I came back to the house, now a ruin
because of the fire, after the funeral ended. I entered my mother’s
room and saw the piano burned to the point of unrecognizable. I
sank down next to it. As the afternoon light pierced through the
window and died down, I just sat there. A few keys were rolling
around amid the last rays of light. I wondered what sound they
would make when I pressed down. I wondered how much mother’s
fingers had touched them. I took one of them, put it into my pocket
and left the room.

4 years have passed since then. Our house was quiet. So quiet
that I was going crazy. After 10 o'clock, my father would go to bed
and everything must be done with bated breath afterwards. That
was the rule of this house. It was hard for me to endure that silence.
It was not easy to match the time and follow the rules, the formality
either. But what I couldn’t endure even more was that, despite of
it, I still continue to live in this house. Taking the pocket money my
father gives, eating with my father, listening to his scoldings. Even
though I talked back to him, went astray and caused trouble, I didn’t
have the courage to leave him, leave this house and be alone, to
really put that freedom into action and not just pure words.

All of a sudden, I sat up from the bed. I took out the key from
the trash can under the desk. I opened the window, letting the air
of the night harshly rush in. Everything that happened today
flooded in as if they were carried by the wind, slapping at my face.
I threw the key into the air as hard as I could. It had been ten days
since I last went to school. I heard they expelled me. Who knows,
maybe now I would be kicked out of this house even if I don’t want
to. I listened carefully but still couldn’t make out the sound of the
key falling to the ground. No matter how much I wondered about, I
will never be able to know what sound that key made. No matter
how much time passes, that key will never be able to make any
sound again. I will never play the piano again.
Seokjin
17 July YEAR 20

The cicadas sang as I stood at the entrance of the school. The

sports field was buzzing with children smiling, joking around, and
running around competitively. The beginning of the summer
holidays; everyone was terrifically buoyant. In the midst of them, I
bowed my head and stepped past. I wanted to slink out of school
quickly.

“Hyung.” Due to someone’s shadow appearing with a jump, I

lifted my head. It was Hoseok and Jimin. They watched me like
always, shining, with their big and pure smiles and mischievous
young eyes. “It’s holidays from today, and you’re just going to
leave?” Hoseok spoke, dragging my arm. I agreed, saying a couple
of useless phrases before turning my head back. What had
happened that day was definitely an accident. It had not been
planned. I had not thought that Jungkook and Yoongi would be
there at that time in the storage classroom. The principal had
suspected that I was defending them. He had said that he could tell
my father that I wasn’t a good student. I had to say something. I had
spoken of that hideout because I thought it would be empty. But it
had come to the point of Yoongi being expelled. Nobody knew that
I was complicit in that event.

“Spend your holidays well, hyung! I’ll call you.” However he

interpreted my ignorance, Hoseok furtively let go of my hand and
said goodbye even more brightly. This time, too, I was not able to
respond in any way. There was nothing I could say. As I came to the
school gates, I remembered the first day at this school. We were
late, and all received punishment together. And so we were able to
laugh. It was me that ruined those times

Hoseok
15 September YEAR 20

Jimin’s mother walked across the emergency room. She

checked the name on the headboard and the IV bottle, then took
out the grass leaf on Jimin’s shoulder. I felt like I should tell her why
Jimin was rushed to the emergency room, how he had a seizure at
the bus stop, so I hesitantly approached her. Only then did Jimin’s
mother spotted me, she looked at me for a while as if to figure
something out. I didn’t know what to do, so I hung back. Jimin’s
mother only said thank you and turned away.

The next time Jimin’s mother turned to me again was when the
doctor and the nurses started to move the bed and I followed them.
Jimin’s mother said thank you again and pushed my shoulder. More
correctly, she slightly put her hand on my shoulder and took it off.
But suddenly, an invisible line was drawn between me and Jimin’s
mother. It was a clear and solid line. Cold and firm. It was a line that
I eventually couldn’t cross through. I had lived at the orphanage for
more than 10 years. I could tell it through with my body, my eyes,
with the air. In an unguarded moment, I stepped back and fell to
the floor. Jimin’s mother stared down at me with a blank look. She
was a petite and beautiful woman, but her shadow was big and
chilly. That shadow casted on me falling down to the floor of the
emergency room. When I looked up, Jimin’s bed had already gone
out of the emergency room, no longer seen. Since that day, Jimin
was didn’t go to school anymore.
Jimin
28 September YEAR 20

I lied for the first time today. Staring into the doctor’s eye, I
spoke as if I were gloomy. “I can’t remember anything.”

Jimin
28 September YEAR 20

I stopped counting how many days I had been in the hospital.

It’s something people do when they want to leave or when they
have the hope of leaving. Looking at the trees and the grass outside
the windows, people’s outfits, seems like it hadn’t been that much
time. One month at most. Sometimes I see school uniforms as well,
but now even that didn’t really stir up any special feeling.

Everything felt so dull and hazy, maybe because of the medicine.

But today was a special day. A day that must be written down in the
diary if I had one. But I didn’t keep any diary and I didn’t want to
cause trouble while writing such a thing. Today I lied for the first
time. I looked into the doctor’s eyes and pretended I was gloomy. I
said, “I don’t remember anything.”

Jungkook
30 September YEAR 20

“Jeon Jungkook, you’re not still going there are you?” I did not
respond in any way. I stood, only looking at my shoelaces. As I did
not answer, I was hit over the head with the attendance sheet. But
I still did not open my mouth. It was the classroom I had been in
together with my hyungs. From the day I discovered the classroom
after following them around, there has not been a day that I have
not entered it. Even they would not know this. There were times
they didn’t come, saying they had another activity or were busy
with part time work. Yoongi and Jin would sometimes not show
themselves for days on end. But it was not so for me. I went to the
classroom every day without fail. There were days when not a single
person came. But it was still fine. The fact that this place existed
meant that if not today, tomorrow – if not tomorrow, the day after
– the hyungs would come – so it was okay.
 “Because you hung out together, all you did was learn bad
stuff.” I was hit once more. I raised my eyes and stared at the
teacher down. I was hit again. I remembered Yoongi getting hit. I
grit my teeth and bore it. I did not want to say the lie that I had not
been to the classroom.

Now, I stood in front of the classroom once again. I felt that if I

opened the door, the hyungs would be inside. That they’d be
gathered playing a game, turn to look at me, and ask why I was so
late. It seemed like Seokjin and Namjoon would be reading,
Taehyung gaming, Yoongi playing the piano, Hoseok and Jimin
dancing.

But as I opened the door, all I saw was Hoseok. He was packing
away our remaining items in the classroom. I clutched the door
handle, just standing there. He came over to me and wrapped his
arm around my shoulder. He took me outside. “Let’s go, now.”
Behind our backs, the classroom door shut. I realised it then. Those
days were gone, and they would not come again.
Hoseok
25 February YEAR 21

I danced without taking my eyes off my reflection in the mirror.

The me in there soared up without touching the ground, free from
all the gazes and standards of the world. Nothing mattered to me
but moving my body to the music, putting my whole heart into my
body.

I first danced when I was about twelve. Maybe it was around

the time of the talent show in a field trip. I followed my friends and
stood on the stage. Among what happened that day, I could still
remember the applause and the cheer. And the feeling of being
myself for the first time. At that time, I was only thinking of moving
my body to the music and having fun. It was ecstasy, and it was not
until much later did I learn that ecstasy didn’t come from the
applause, it came from somewhere inside me.

The me outside the mirror is hung up by many things. I can’t lift

my feet off the ground for more than a few seconds, I smile even
when I hate it and smile when I’m sad too.. I take medicines I don’t
need yet still collapse anywhere. So I try not to take my eyes off
myself in the mirror when I dance. The moment I can truly become
myself. The moment I can throw away all the weight and fly. The
moment that makes me believe I can become happy. I keep my eyes
on that moment.

Jungkook
2 May YEAR 21

I rode through Yangji Cheon in the sunset. When I continuously

step on the bicycle paddle towards the sky mixed with pink and
purple, it felt like I was escaping from my heavy life. Once again, I
came out with my bicycle the moment I heard mom preparing for
dinner. I didn't want to meet with anyone. The place where there
was no one who would smile at me, that was my home. Just
because you live together does not mean it’s a family. Coming out
of the house didn't make a difference. Hyungs all left one by one
and even if they were in the same city, it has been a while since we
have contacted each other. Now in the house and even outside,
there was no one to smile at me.
 The sun has set and before the moon has risen, the river was
filled with darkness. The scenery of the river changed by the way
you ride the bicycle. The road made for the park ended and the
place filled with trash like scrap cars, scrap motor bicycle, old tires.

I put the bicycle against the pole under the bridge and walked down
near the river side. From afar there was a group of kids who made
fire, drinking and swinging wood sticks but here there was no one.
A place that is a mess like this, no one came. The reason no one
came to me, was it the same reason? A place where no one comes
to, the time spent in perfect darkness was comfortable for me. I
wished this time would never end.

Seokjin
9 August YEAR 21

I took photos as I walked down the sea. The seaside town

continues to change but the sea was always the same no matter
where you are. I got out of my car and went down to the beach. I
sat down on the sand and looked at the photos I took through the
viewfinder. The location of the photo, the time it was taken,
everything was different but all the photos were the same. The sky
and the sea met in the center.

It has been about a year since I came to LA after leaving Songjoo

as if I was running away. The house I spent my childhood in was not
unfamiliar nor was comfortable. Hide my feelings, find the place I
belong, and smile awkwardly. The method I got from my father on
how to be a good person. That was mostly useful and this was the
same situation.

After coming here, I stopped taking pictures of people. I just

didn't want to. Instead I took pictures of the sea. Perhaps I wanted
to take a picture of something that doesn't change. Looking back, it
was a funny thing. My friends did not change. That didn't mean I
haven’t changed. I was always that kind of person, I was just hiding
it, and I was caught. I didn't bring a single photo from high school
days. But the ‘me' back then was different from the ‘who’ I
portrayed I was. I didn't hide my feelings and I didn't need to find
my place. The awkward smile was still the same but there was one
thing that was different. I was smiling with my full heart.
 I held up my camera and took a photo of the sea. Due to the
cloudy weather, the sea and the sky had similar color. The horizon
that met together was also unclear. From all the photos of the sea,
there wasn't a single photo that was the same. Weather was
different, lighting was different, and the wind was different. My
view was different and my heart was different. That was the same
for the picture taken place today. Same went for the many photos
that were taken during high school. Picture, in the view of the
photographer and their heart gets captured.

Seokjin
9 August YEAR 21

That was probably the reason I couldn't bring any photos from
back then. I was afraid to face myself from back then. I was afraid I
would miss the "me" from the past. How is everyone doing? What
would they think of me? I was worried I would question those things
so I put their pictures in the box and closed the lid.
Namjoon
17 December YEAR 21

I continued to slow my pace and finally came to a stop. It was

dawn in a country village where even the buses didn’t run
frequently. The entire village was blanketed under luminous snow
that had fallen all night. The trees were hunched up like massive
white beasts and shed hair-like snow every time the wind blew. I
knew without looking hack that I was the only one leaving
footprints across the snowfield in the village. Both of my feet had
long been soaking wet because of the cracked soles of my sneakers.
I once heard a saying that “God makes us lonely to lead us to Him.”
[NOTE: this quote is from Demian by Hermann Hesse - the book that
WINGS era was based on!] But I was not lonely. I was not following
the path towards myself. This was a retreat. I was running away
from myself.

My family arrived in this village last fall. The amount of

belongings we brought continued to get smaller each time we
moved to a new town. Now we only needed a small delivery van to
move. We were in no position to be picky about where we lived.
There were only two conditions. One with a hospital for Dad, and
the other was an employer who was willing to hire someone
without a high school diploma.

This village had both. The bus that ran twice a day stopped in
front of the county-run hospital, and a series of small eateries lined
the stream behind the town. These eateries sold stew and fries
made with small fish caught from the stream, and the summer
months were their high season. Crowds seeking a waterside
excursion poured in from nearby cities, and the demand for
deliveries to those staying at the village with the rest area on the
mountainous ridge was high. During winter, when the stream froze
solid, the eateries used preserved fish caught in summer. There
were not as many tourists as in the summer, but calls for delivery
remained steady. I was one of the town's delivery boys.

Of course, there was competition here, too. Most of the

households subsisted on farming, and, as can be guessed, were not
that wealthy. Delivery service was the only part-time job available
for the boys in town. Eatery owners made us compete against each
other. "Isn't it natural that I hire whoever impresses me the most?”
For them, it didn't matter that we were minors and didn't have
driver's licenses. The boys who'd already been hired acted very
territorial. They were only a few, but they threatened me with
harsh hazing.

During vacation, the competition became fiercer. We

voluntarily and competitively ran errands and took out the trash for
the owners. Their connivance only drove us further. And yet, almost
unexpectedly, we came to develop a sort of solidarity among us.
We were rivals, but we had a sort of sympathy for one another. If
one of us didn't show up, the rest wondered what had happened.
They also reminded me of the time I spent in that classroom-
turned-storage room at high school. Some of them were similar to
Yoongi, and some to Jimin. I couldn't help but wonder. If my friends
from school had met here in this village, would we have competed
against and tried to outrival each other? If I had met these delivery
boys at school, would we have become friends?

Snow fell heavily when our competition, territorial instincts, and

strange sense of solidarity all reached their peaks. Then, the
competition subsided instantly. A motor scooter was a must to
make deliveries to the village with the rest area, but it was very
dangerous to ride a lightweight motorbike along the snow-covered
and mountainous trail. The trail that led to the village with the rest
area was steep and winding. Delivering on foot was not an option.
In the end, it was a showdown between Taehyung and me.
Taehyung was two years younger and lived on the outskirts of the
village near the orchard. Taehyung wasn't his real name. It was
either Jongsik or Jonghun. But he reminded me of Taehyung. He
didn't have that silly smile or easily open up to anyone with his
gentle, naive nature. Rather, he always seemed aggressive, angry,
and discontent. On the outside, he appeared similar to Yoongi, but,
oddly enough he reminded me more of Taehyung.
[NOTE: since Namjoon doesn't actually remember this kid's name,
he calls him Tae - because the boy reminds him of OUR Taehyung.
However I'm gonna refer to him as 'Not Taehyung' lmao for
comprehension’s sake.]

‘Not Taehyung’ and I were the only ones wretchedly poor

enough to take the risk and keep making deliveries up to that snow-
covered mountain town. It was the same that day. When yet
another order was phoned in to the eatery, I was roaming around
along the stream. No one else had showed up as the weather report
forecast heavy snow in the afternoon. ‘Not Taehyung’ appeared a
few minutes later. Instead of going into the eatery and chatting as
usual, he just flopped down on the ground near the bridge and
didn't move. It was one of those days. Those days when his face was
cut and bruised. Those days when his eyes were bloodshot and his
clothes were stained with blood. Was something wrong with him?
Was someone hitting hint? I didn't ask.

It began to snow while I was waiting for the food to be prepared.

At the same moment I felt something cold brush against my neck,
the snow began falling thicker and heavier. "Are you sure you'll be
OK?" The owner stuck his head out. ‘Not Taehyung’ sprang to his
feet, and I turned my face towards him. "Of course!" we both
answered simultaneously. "You never know how much more snow
will fall from that kind of sky," said someone inside the eatery. "It
just began to fall. I'll be back in a minute." The owner looked into
my face with a doubtful stare. "But you're still not so good at driving
the scooter." ‘Not Taehyung’ came over, saying he had ridden the
scooter many times. The owner clicked his tongue when he saw his
face. "No, not you today. You go rest." I didn't miss my opportunity
and jumped in. "There's a first time for everything. Today is the first
day I make a delivery in the snow. You know I'm very cautious." The
owner gave in. “Come in here. You'll have to make quite a few
round trips, so be careful."

I could feel ’Not Taehyung’s’ gaze following me behind my back

as I stepped into the eatery. He hovered around me while I packed
the prepared food and put it into the container. It was odd. ‘Not
Taehyung’ was usually too proud to act like this. When looked back
at him, he took a step towards as if he had something to say. Then,
he turned away again. The owner kept nagging me about driving on
a snow-covered road. I pretended to listen, enthusiastically
nodding my head. Driving a scooter wasn't something that required
so much attention, skill, and stress.

Contrary to what I had thought, it wasn't easy climbing the slope

through snow flurries on a scooter. The snow hadn't begun sticking
on the road, but my nerves were on edge because it was flying in
every direction in heavy flakes. The decrepit scooter struggled up
the slope. It was as if the scooter was clinging onto me. It was cold,
but I was dripping with sweat and all my muscles tightened. The
next minute, my sweat dried and I felt a chill on my back. I kept
repeating a thought to myself. I have gone up and down this road
without any problems all fall and up until early winter. Besides, the
snow is not sticking and the roads are not slippery.

The scooter slipped helplessly on my way down during the third

trip. I had just started to gain confidence and think that I was pretty
good at maneuvering the scooter on a snowy day. As the snow had
been falling for a while and the road had little traffic, it began to
pile up here and the But it was still OK in the center of the road, and
the slope was not that steep. Then, as soon as that thought crossed
my mind, the rear wheel slid out. Startled, I clamped down on the
brakes tightly. Was I holding them too tightly? This thought filled
my head. I think I remembered the owner saying something about
the brakes. The owner's warnings that I had listened to half-
heartedly raced across my mind. The scooter seemed to regain
control for a moment, but the wheels started to fishtail before I
could even let out a sigh of relief In the next breath, I was hurled
onto the road. I tumbled down as if the scooter had bounced me
off as hard as it could. The scooter slid down the road by itself and
must've bumped into something. I heard a loud thud.
 I sprang to my feet. I couldn't afford to check if I was injured or
where it hurts. I ran to the scooter, which was on its side under a
tree off the right side of the road. It was covered with fallen leaves.
I picked it up to discover a deep, unmissable scratch at the bottom
of its body. I put the key in and turned it. It didn't start. Sweat rolled
down the back of my neck. Every joint in my body ached. I was
seized with fear. There was no way I could pay for the scooter.

I turned the key again, this time kicking the engine. The engine
seemed to rattle and turn over but died just as quickly. I cursed
under my breath, shut my eyes, and kicked the ground as hard as I
could. My hand, which held the key, couldn't stop trembling. The
faces of my parents and brother slid by. I looked up into the sky and
collected my wits. I clenched and unclenched my fists. Then, I
turned the key again.

The engine finally started up after several attempts. The scooter

came alive, sounding like the shrill of a dying animal. I collapsed to
the ground. I was drained. The deep scratch was at eye level. I
jumped up and rubbed it hard with the toe of my sneakers. It was
an old scooter, covered with numerous dents and scratches
already. It might go unnoticed.

When I stood upright, one of my ankles tingled with pain. Only

then did I start to check my own condition. Fortunately, there were
no serious wounds. There was a small cut above my left ankle bone
that was bleeding. My thighs and waist might ache the next
morning, but I'd been there before.

‘Not Taehyung’ watched me park the scooter and step in-side

the eatery. Did he notice? I grew nervous but chatted with the
owner as casually as possible. The next delivery order came in soon.
I had to go out again before I had even warmed up.

"Hey..." ‘Not Taehyung’ spoke to me as I approached the

scooter. Did he see the scratch? I replied in a deliberately loud
voice. "What?" After some hesitation, ‘Not Taehyung’ went on. "I
have a favor to ask." "Favor? What favor?" That was when my
phone rang. I held up one hand to shush him and turned around. It
was Mom. Dad had tried to go out alone and fell. She asked me to
take him to the hospital. I shut my eyes. Anger rose from deep o'
within. I clenched teeth. I could feel my annoyance slowly surging
from my stomach. Snowflakes, now noticeably larger, fell on my
face. I was going up and down that slippery road in this weather to
earn almost nothing. The cut on my left ankle hurt and my thighs
were burning. But I was setting out to ride that scooter again. It was
the only way to earn that little hit of money today.

I could understand why he tried to walk alone. It was his last

pride as the head of our family and his attempt to keep his dignity
as a parent. But we couldn't afford such luxuries in the face of
poverty. Dignity, pride, a sense of justice, and morals just led to a
greater burden and more money to spend. When I opened my eyes,
‘Not Taehyung’ was staring at me. I handed him the key.

When Dad and I got off the bus from the hospital, the sun had
already set. The large snowflakes from earlier had continued to
grow and created snowdrifts. The bus crawled along. It took twice
as long as usual to get to the hospital and back home. I walked
home carrying Dad on my back with no one in sight to hold an
umbrella for us. My hair was damp and my hands holding up him
were numb with cold.
 I took a break under a zelkova tree past the road on the
embankment. I caught my breath and looked up. A panoramic view
of the village met my eyes. The village blanketed under snow
appeared tranquil and peaceful. Warm yellow lights streamed
through the windows of different houses here and there. The smell
of steamed rice and stew sharpened my appetite. When we entered
the alley after crossing the bridge, dogs started barking. Although
we had lived in this village for several months now, the dogs still
barked at me like a stranger. Mom sprang up when we came in. "He
needs to receive outpatient treatment for at least three more
days." I laid Dad in his room and went outside. Still no sign of the
snow letting up. “Why do you hate me so much? Let me at least
know the reason." I yelled at the dogs barking their heads off. I
heard about ‘Not Taehyung’s’ accident the next day.

When I dropped by the eatery along the stream, I saw the owner
talking with a police officer. I instinctively froze. I thought he had
come for me. I had damaged the scooter on the previous day. I
could get in trouble for driving under age and without a driver's
license. Should I run back home? But the bus wouldn't come for
hours. It just wasn't possible to run away with Dad in his condition.
 "Did you hear?" It was the owner of another eatery next door.
She said the accident happened when ‘Not Taehyung’ was driving
downhill after the delivery. His body was just lying there for more
than three hours until someone in a passing car found him. A
resident in the town with the rest area called the eatery owner, but
no one set out to find him.

The police officer said ‘Not Taehyung’ was an unskilled driver.

He also blamed him for not wearing a helmet. I saw a helmet, which
I'd never seen before, placed on the counter of the eatery. The
owner kept saying that he never forced ‘Not Taehyung’ to go out
delivering and even tried to talk him out of it. It was true. ‘Not
Taehyung’ and I had insisted that we were OK with it. The neighbors
all chipped in. It was a small village where everyone knew everyone
else. They had at least a memory or two about everybody there,
whether it was about a fist fight, backbiting, or betrayal. A series of
episodes about him came flowing out. He lived with his mom and
sister and had no dad.

‘Not Taehyung’s’ mom writhed in agony on a bench in front of

the eatery and wailed. Bring my son back. Bring my poor, poor son
back. It's a wrongful death… At first, the neighbors tried to soothe
her and wept with her. But it was cold and the sun set early. In the
evening, ‘Not Taehyung’s’ mom was left alone, and the smell of
dinner cooking flowed out through the windows as always.
Everytime wind blew on the trees lining the stream, snow fell in
lumps. She just sat there in the middle of it.

I saw her sitting alone while I was taking Dad home from the
hospital. Without realizing it, I stopped walking and remembered
the spot of the accident. After hearing about ‘Not Taehyung’, I had
walked along the trail by myself. My breath froze and fell to the
ground as ice crystals. ‘Not Taehyung’s’ shape drawn in a white
outline on the road was half erased. I stopped at his feet. Damp
leaves were rolling around, and the grayish traces of calcium
chloride were still left behind. That could have been me lying there.
If I had made that delivery, if it had been me instead of ‘Not
Taehyung’, then this would be my outline. It could've been my
family wailing on that bench instead of ‘Not Taehyung’s’.

I bent my steps after Dad coughed violently. "Namjoon." Dad

called to me when we were about to enter the alley after crossing
the bridge. As soon as I slowed my pace, the dogs started to bark.
Dad continued in a feeble, frail voice. It was hardly audible, lost
amidst the fierce barking. I pretended that I had not heard him.
One more week has passed. The village quickly returned to
normal. ‘Not Taehyung’s’ mom sometimes cried bitterly in front of
the eatery, but no one shared in her sorrow, people just snubbed
‘Not Taehyung’s’ sister until she took her away. some said it was
just a traffic accident. I began to work at another eatery. In fact, I
was charged with all deliveries to the village with the rest area. One
more heavy snowfall followed, and the trail continued to freeze and
thaw. Delivery orders were only trickling in now, but no one applied
to do the delivery job. I made five or six deliveries a day, and my
income increased that much. I always made sure to wear a helmet
and protective gear. I never took my eyes off the road with every
nerve at attention.

Last night, I made my last delivery. I didn't know it would be my

last at the time, but it was. The rest area closed down for the winter
months anyways. When I went up there, people were gathered in
the office. They seemed to be discussing the sales of the facility. I
didn't recognize some of the faces. They must be strangers who just
moved in. While I put down the food and took the money, one of
them began to talk about ‘Not Taehyung’s’ accident. Another
stranger clicked his tongue and mentioned how dangerous it was to
ride a motorbike on a snowy day. The stranger who first mentioned
‘Not Taehyung’s’ accident warned me to always take extra care. I
thanked him for worrying about me. But I didn't mean it. If he was
so concerned about the snow-covered slope and my safety, he
shouldn't have ordered food in the first place.

“You know what's really dangerous?" the stranger blurted out

right before I dosed the door behind me. "Calcium chloride and wet
leaves, not the snow itself. Unless you're a very good driver, you'll
skid if you step on them. Didn't it snow that day? Then, he
must've...." His last words went unheard as the door dosed. I cut
across the empty, dismal rest area. I passed the narrow snack bar
and the local specialty discount counter and headed for the exit.

I walked down the stairs one at a time. It was below zero, but it
didn't feel that cold. The key kept slipping from my fingers, and I
kept turning it to no avail. I clenched and unclenched my fist. The
old scooter rattled like crazy and finally started. I pulled out of the
rest area slowly. A curve began at the rest area signpost. I made a
right turn in a wide circle, ran down a short straight section, and
came to another curve that wound to the left. This was the spot
where I slipped first and then ‘Not Taehyung’ ran into trouble.

I kept my eyes forward and rapidly passed the spot. I tried to

convince myself that I wasn't taking my eyes off the road to stay
safe, but it was guilt. Guilt for surviving alone. Guilt for feeling
relieved that I was the one who was still alive. Guilt for not being
able to come forward. Guilt for not speaking up to defend his
driving skills and for not confessing that I'd never seen a helmet at
the eatery. Maybe I was just a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty
conscience.

I had scattered the wet leaves on the spot where ‘Not

Taehyung’ went down. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I was
responsible for all of it. I was the one who'd sprinkled the calcium
chloride. With giant intentions, to prevent the road from icing over.
In fact, I did it for myself because I truly believed that I'd make the
next delivery and the one after that. “Do you know what's really
dangerous?" What I'd heard at the rest area replayed in my mind.
"He must've ridden over it and slipped." If I'd removed the leaves,
if I hadn't sprinkled calcium chloride, would he have been safe?

Several people were already at the bus stop, waiting for the first
bus of the day. I nodded my head in greeting and then kept it bent.
I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. The first bus of the day
came into sight.

The bus gradually came to a stop. With my head bent low, I

boarded it after the other passengers. I didn't have a specific plan.
I was just sneaking away. From Mom's exhausted face. From my
brother going astray. From Dad struggling against his illness. From
our family's fortune going downhill. From my family requiring
sacrifice and obedience from me. From me trying to resign to my
fate. And, most of all, from poverty. Poverty eats into the heart of
life. It turns what’s precious into something meaningless. It makes
you give up what shouldn't be given up. It makes you doubt, fear
and despair.

Last night, I left the rest area, dropped by the eatery, and then
went home. I don't remember who I met and what I talked and
thought about in between. My entire body and mind felt numb. I
couldn't tell whether it was windy, whether it was cold, how it
smelled, or who I ran into. My brain seemed to have frozen. I was
moving mechanically like a zombie oblivious of who I am, what I've
done, what I'm doing, and what I'm thinking. It was the barking dogs
that shook me out of it at the mouth of the alley leading home. In
that moment, all my senses, which had been paralyzed, awoke at
once and countless scenes from my past spread out before my eyes:
the days of hopping from one place to another, the moment I
slipped on the road, me crawling to the eatery owner and
competing with the other boys to land the delivery jobs, the boys
who laughed at me, and me looking at my peers in their school
uniforms waiting for the bus. The sound of barking dogs and the
sight of their threatening eyes filled with hatred were added to
these scenes.

I almost screamed, "Stop it! What do you want me to do?" But

I held myself back. Dad's voice rang in my ears. Dad's feeble, frail
voice. I thought of what he had told me that night we came home
from the hospital… what I pretended not to hear but heard clear as
day through the barking of dogs. What I had dwelled on over and
over since that day. What I had tried not to think about. "Go
Namjoon. You must survive."

The bus departed, set to arrive in Songju a few hours later. I

didn't leave a message when I left Songju one year ago. Now,
returning to the city without any notice. I thought of my friends. I
haven't kept in touch with any of them. I wondered what they were
doing and if they were still there. I couldn't see outside through the
window covered with frost. I slowly wrote on the window with my
forefinger.
"I must survive." [NOTE: this phrase is written on the mirrors in
'Prologue', 'REFLECTION - Short Film', and 'I Need U - JPN Vers.']

Namjoon
17 December YEAR 21

Those waiting for the first bus rubbed their heads together in
the cold breeze. I grabbed tightly onto the straps of my bag and
looked down at the dirt floor. I tried not to look anyone in the eye.
A country town where the bus stopped only twice a day. I saw the
first bus come from far away.
I followed the other people into the bus. I did not look back. When
one is desperate for something, when one barely is able to place it
in their palms, when all you have to do is escape, such a condition
arises: to not turn back. If I turned back, all my effort until now
would become foam. To turn back – that was suspicion, and
yearning, and fear. I had to win that to escape.

The bus departed. It was not that I had had plans. It was not that
I had been desperate, or was able to place it in my palms and
escape. It was closer to just deciding to run away. Mum’s tired face.
My troubled younger sibling. My dad’s sickness. From the family
situation that was getting harder by the day. From a family that
emphasised sacrifice and peace; from one who pretended to know
nothing and tried so hard to get used to it – myself. And most of all,
from poverty.

If you ask if poverty is a sin, nobody would say it is. But is that
really so? Poverty gnaws at so many things. Things that were
precious become meaningless. The things that one can’t give up on,
you end up giving up. You become suspicious, scared, and resigned.
 Now in a couple of hours, the bus will arrive at a familiar stop.
As I left that place a year ago, I had not said any farewells. And now
without any hint, any notice – I am going back to that place. I
brought my friends’ faces up in my mind again. I had lost contact
with all of them. What would they all be doing? Would they be
happy to see me? Would we be able to come together and laugh
like old times? The great amount of frost on the window made it
difficult to see the landscape outside. And on top, I moved my
finger.
‘I need to survive.’

Seokjin
1 February YEAR 22

The broadcast announced that we would be landing shortly.

Outside my window, I still only saw foggy clouds. I looked back over
my time in LA. I liked it because there was the ocean. Other than
that, nothing really came up.

The plane seemed to circle around, and in a moment the land

came into view. Coming back to Songju was a sudden situation. My
father said over the phone, "Come." Of course there has to be a
reason. My father is not the kind of person who acts without
reason. But he didn't tell me what that reason was. Knowing I'll find
out when I get there, I didn't ask him. No, it could be that coming
back to Songju isn't a sudden thing. It could be that everything was
planned in advance, and I was the only one who didn't know.

"Is that our home?" I heard the voice of the little kid sitting in
front of me. I looked outside the window. "No, our house is across
that river there," someone who seemed to be the father answered.
Home, I repeated to myself inside. It didn't feel like I was going back
home. But then again, it wasn't that LA was home either. LA and
Songju. Both places were my address, but neither of them were
home.

Hoseok
25 February YEAR 22

My world has completely changed once again after my

nineteenth birthday passed. I was no longer a child under
protection and I was not allowed to stay at the orphanage anymore.
I got a room with the independence fund provided for kids who
'aged out' along with the money I saved up by doing part time jobs.
I could even dare to look near ‘Two Star Burger’ for a place. I tried
to look at places near Songjoo station but there wasn't much
difference. In the end I had to go up the hill. The rooftop room
located all the way in the dead end of the street.

I went up the steel stairs carrying the trunk. Although I was

leaving the orphanage where I stayed for more than 10 years, there
were not many items. I finished by organizing few clothes and
sneakers and placing small furniture brought from the recycling
store.

But I guess moving is still moving, when I finally straightened my

back it was already dark. My back was sweating in a February
weather. As I opened the steel door with a creek the late winter
wind came in. I walked out and leaned against the railing. From the
view I was able to see Songjoo. Just with my eyes I tried to find the
orphanage. The clover shaped sign that you see on the left following
the river. Through the neon sign and lights it was hard to see the
orphanage.
 I turned my head and looked at the rooftop room. Just a small
one room. A poor shabby room which is steaming hot during
summer, cold wind comes through between the window sill during
winter. But it's the only place for me on Earth. The place where I
can be myself. The place where I can open up. No matter how
stupid the fear is or if it's a hope people would laugh at. A place I
can laugh and cry my heart out. “Let's do well!” I screamed towards
the rooftop room. The highest floor in this city, the point that is
meets the night sky the closest, this place was my home from today.

Hoseok
2 March YEAR 22

I like being with people. When I became independent from the

Orphanage I started part time working at a fast food restaurant it
was a job I had to deal with people, always smile, and be bright. I
liked that job. To be honest there was nothing in my life that made
me smile or have bright days. It was clear I saw more bad people
than good people. Maybe that's the reason I liked that job. When I
force myself to smile and talk loudly sometimes it makes me
mistaken as if I'm really happy. When I laughed loudly I felt happier
as I acted politely I became a polite person. There were days when
it was hard. When I had to clean up the store and head home it was
hard to even move a single step. There were days where there were
rude customers. But back when I was with my friends it was easier
than now.

Sometimes looking over customers who filled the store I

thought of my friends. Seokjin who moved school without saying a
word, Namjoon who disappeared one morning, Yoongi who lost
contact after getting expelled from school. Taehyung who I don't
know where he would run off and cause trouble, and Jimin who I
last saw at the emergency room and never returned to school.
Jungkook I was recently passing by going home wearing his uniform
but he didn't visit the store. I thought did our times end.

I welcomed loudly as customer entered. And I put a bright

healthy smile and looked at the door.
Taehyung
29 March YEAR 22
The owner of the gas station left spitting on the floor. I laid on
the floor in a making myself as a ball. I got caught graffiting back
wall of the gas station and got hit by the owner. I rolled on the
ground. Getting hit was something I was used to but also something
I never got used to.

It was very recent when I started to do graffiti. I picked up a

spray someone left and sprayed on the wall. I think it was yellow.
just sprayed it and looked at it. On the gray wall I looked at the
bright yellow and picked up another spray. I sprayed my heart that
I didn't know about for a long time. I stopped my hand after
emptying all the bottles. I threw the bottle and stepped back. I ran
out of breath as if I ran as fast as I can.

I didn't know what these colors on the wall meant. What I did,
why I did, I didn't know. But I knew one thing that this is my feeling.
I expressed my feeling on the wall. At first it looked ugly, it looked
dirty, looked stupid, useless, pitied, and disliked it. I rubbed the
undried paint on the wall with my hand. I wanted to erase
everything. Instead of the paint going away it formed a new shape.
I leaned against the wall. It wasn't the problem with liking it or not.
It wasn't the problem with looking beautiful or not. This was just
me.

As I stood up I coughed. Guessing my mouth was cut, blood

came out as I coughed. Then I saw someone pick up the spray can.
As I followed the had I saw the face it was Namjoon. I chuckled. I
thought I was hallucinating. He held out his hand. I just looked up.
He pulled my hand. The hand was warm.
[NOTE: this scene parallels both 'Prologue' and 'Euphoria']

Yoongi
7 April YEAR 22

The car had barely missed me. The remaining buzz of the alcohol
had made me feel giddy. Then I realized I couldn’t hear the piano
anymore…
[NOTE: This is from 'FIRST LOVE - Short Film']
Yoongi
7 April YEAR 22

I stopped walking at the clumsy piano sound. At the empty

construction site in the middle of the night, there was only the
crackling sound from a fire someone had lit in the drum can. I could
tell it was the song I used to play, but I didn’t really have any
thought. My drunken footsteps wobbled. I closed my eyes and
walked even more mindlessly. Heat from the fire became stronger
and the piano sound, the air of the night, even my intoxication fade
away.

At the sudden horn, I opened my eyes, narrowly escaping a

passing car. Amid the glare of the headlights, the wind from cars
passing by and the chaos of my intoxication, I staggered helplessly.
A driver was spitting out curses. I stopped, about to curse back
when I realized, I could no longer hear the piano sound. Amid the
sound of the blazing fire, the sound of the wind, the noise left
behind by cars, there was no way the piano sound could be heard.
Seems like it stopped. Why did it stop? Was someone playing the
piano?

With a snap, sparks of the fire in the drum can surged towards
the darkness. I stared vacantly at it for a while. My face flushed from
the heat. That was when I heard the sound of someone slamming
down the piano keys with fist. Instinctively, I turned around. In a
second, my blood was running wild, breath growing ragged. My
childhood nightmare. It was like the sound I heard at that place.

The next moment, I was running. My body turned around on

itself not on my own will, running towards the music shop.
Somehow it felt like this had repeatedly happened countless of
times. Like I was forgetting something really urgent.

The music shop with broken windows. Someone was sitting in

front of the piano. It had been years but I still could recognize him
at once. He was crying. I clenched my fists. I didn’t want to get
involved with someone else’s life. Didn’t want to comfort someone
else’s loneliness. Didn’t want to become a meaningful person to
someone else. I didn’t have the confidence that I would be able to
protect that person. Didn’t have the confidence to be with them till
the end. I didn’t want to hurt them. I didn’t want to get hurt.

I slowly moved my steps. I was about to turn around and leave,

but unknowingly, I came closer. And pointed out to him the wrong
note. Jungkook lifted his head and looked up at me. “Hyung.” It was
the first time we met after I dropped out of school.

Namjoon
11 April YEAR 22

Seokjin just stood there on the edge of my sight. He didn’t come

closer or start talking.

Namjoon
11 April YEAR 22

When I turned around after filling up the gas something past my

face and dropped on the floor. As I stepped back and looked down
there was crumbled bill. I bent down and reached down as a reflex.
The people sitting in the car laughed loudly. I stopped in an instinct.
From the far Seokjin would probably watching me. I couldn't raise
my head. How do I deal with people who's riding expensive cars
making fun of others. I need to fight it. If what they are doing is
unjustful you must fight it. That isn't a problem with courage, pride,
and equality. It was something that should be done.

But here is the gas station and I'm a gas station part time
worker. If the customer throws trash i have to pick it up, if the
customer curses at me I have to listen, if they throw the money on
the floor I have to pick it up. The insult made my body tremble. I
clenched my fist. My nails dug through my skin.

At that moment someone picked up the bill and passed it to me.

The people in the car left as the fun died down. I couldn't raise my
head even after they left. I didn't have the courage to face Seokjin.
My cowdardiness, my poverty, and my situation - hyung wasn't the
person who doesn't know that. But I still didn't want to show it
openly. He stood there on the tip of my eyes and didn't move. He
didn't come closer nor did he started the conversation.
Jungkook
11 April YEAR 22

At last, my wish was granted. I purposely bumped into the thugs

on the street and was beaten as much as I wanted to be. I kept
smiling as I was beaten, and so they beat me up more, calling me
crazy. I leaned against the shutter door and looked up at the sky. It
was already night. There was nothing in the pitch black sky. A single
clump of grass stood not far away. It was lying flat from the wind. It
was just like me. I forced myself to laugh to stop the tears from
falling.

Under my closed eyes, I saw my stepfather clearing his throat.

My stepbrother was chuckling. My stepfather’s relatives were
either looking somewhere else or talking about useless stuff. They
acted like I wasn’t there, like my existence was nothing. In front of
them, my mother was flustered. She pushed herself from the floor,
making a cloud of dust rise in the process and coughed. It hurt, like
someone was cutting into the pit of my stomach with a knife. I
climbed up to the rooftop of the construction site. The city at night
was stretching with frightful colors. I climbed on top of the banister,
spreading my arms out and walked. For a moment, my legs wobbled
and I almost lost balance. Just one more step and I would die, I
thought. But if I die, everything would be over. No one would be
sad if I disappear.
[NOTE: this is from 'I Need U' M/V.]

Jungkook
11 April YEAR 22

I walked on the railing on the roof. A building that was

abandoned with the stop of construction. As I put my foot on the
air starting from the tip my foot darkness filled. Beneath the rail was
scenery of night of the city. Neon sign and car honkings, the dust
whirled in the darkness. For a sudden moment I felt dizzy and
wobbled. I raised my arms on to catch m balance. Then I thought. It
was just one step. If I just make one step everything was over. I
leaned closer to the darkness. The darkness that started from my
feet already spread as if it was going to consume my whole body.
As I closed my eyes the distracting city, the sound, and the fear
disappeared. I held my breath. Then slowly leaned forward. I didn't
think about anything. I didn't think about anyone. I didn't want to
leave anything behind. I was not going to remember anything. This
was the end.

It was that moment when the phone rang. I got back to my

sense like I woke up from a long dream. All the sense came back. I
took out my phone. It was Yoongi.
[NOTE: Seen in ‘Euphoria’.]

Jungkook
11 April YEAR 22

My phone rang. I came back to myself as if awakened from a

long dream. I took out my phone. It was Yoongi.

Taehyung
11 April YEAR 22
 I continued to draw the lines with a black spray can. Skinny face,
the mouth that looks like one has lost their words, dried up hair,
the face that I saw in my dream slowly formed on the grey walls
with rough lines. Now it was time to draw the eyes. While I reached
my arms out I stopped and took a step back.

The face was clearly pictured in my head. The eyes look was
affirmed to the point it gave me chills. But I didn't know how to
express it. Eyes that were only left with apathy and coldness after
all the feelings like happiness and sadness burned out. That was
many colors at the same time but also one color that is formed by
mixing from those many colors, it was an eye that didn't tell a single
story as it told many stories. I fixed my grip on the spray can
multiple times but in the end I couldn't draw the eyes.

It has been 2 years since I last saw Seokjin. I did hear that he
went back to the US but besides that no one knew more than that.
It was the first time Hyung came out in my dream. Sometimes I
wondered how he was doing. I tried to remember the things that
happened in our classroom, the moment Hyung was calling the
principal. There were good memories about Hyung and memories
of events that I didn't understand. But in any situation he wasn't
cold and skinny like in the dream.

I looked up at the drawing on the wall. It was definitely Seokjin.

But it wasn't the Hyung I knew. Why did I suddenly have a dream
like that? That dream was a relay of ominous and terrible scenes.
Hyung's face was looking at all the misery with no expression. I
dropped my hand that I was holding the stray can with. The chills I
felt in the dream felt like it was pulling back of my neck. From afar I
heard the sirens of police car.

Yoongi
11 April YEAR 22

I walked with notice of Jungkook walking behind me. Following

the straight path of railroad there were rows of container box. It's
the container fourth from the back. Hoseok said Namjoon and
Taehyung was going to meet him and added that to follow him. I
told him ok though I didn't really had thought of going. I hated
getting with people and Hoseok knew this as a fact. He probably
thought that I wouldn't really come.
 As I open the door Hoseok gave me a surprised look. And when
he noticed Jungkook behind me he approached with the usual over
reacting method showing mixed emotions on his face. I passed by
those two and headed inside of the container. It's been so long. I
heard the quarrel between Hoseok who's trying to hug and
embarrassed Jungkook.

Namjoon entered with Taehyung. One of the t-shirt sleeves of

Taehyung's was ripped. Namjoon acted like punching Taehyung
when I asked what happened. It took me some time because I had
to get him out of the police station for doing graffiti. Taehyung gave
exaggerated sorry and said his t-shirt ripped from running away
from the police.

I looked as I sat in the corner. Namjoon gave t-shirt to change

for Taehyung. Hoseok was taking out hamburger and drinks.
Jungkook stood awkwardly in the middle not knowing what to do.
It seemed like that even at high school. Namjoon was getting made
fun of when trying to calm Taehyung in the corner of the classroom,
Hoseok was moving around and Jungkook stood by not knowing
what to do.
 How long has it been? I couldn't recall the last time we'd all
been together. What happened to Seokjin and Jimin? I wondered,
although it wasn't in my character. I'd never been here before, but
it felt strangely comfortable. I looked out the door. Suddenly, I felt
an urge to run out of this place. A mysterious anxiety flooded in
after that inexplicable peacefulness. My thoughts settled on that
room we used as a hideout in high school. We used to laugh and
chat together, but those days were long gone. Likewise, the time
we spend here will come to an end. Is there any point to this good
feeling, sudden sense of belonging, and groundless anticipation?

Seokjin
11 April YEAR 22

The light streaming in from the narrow window of the container

looked like some kind of signal. A signal that guides us when we're
lost, a signal that points to shelter when we have nowhere to go,
and a signal that illuminates the friends that stand by us. I parked
my car at a corner a little way off from the railroad and watched the
others gather following the signal.
 Hoseok first went into the container, followed by Yoongi,
Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon. What do they look like now?
What are they talking about now? It wasn't that I didn't want to
meet them. But this was only the beginning. The time wasn't ripe
yet. Someday, we'll all get together again. We'll laugh together
amidst that signal. This is as far as I'll go today. I turned my car
around.

[NOTE: here, at this break, you should read the Save Me the
webtoon. If it’s too graphic for you, or too confusing, I’ll summarize
the webtoon and write out when the timeline resets underneath in
this color. Seokjin going back in time will be distinguished like: --
timeline resets--]

Seokjin
11 April YEAR 22

I came to the sea alone. Inside the viewfinder, the sea was wide
open and blue as ever. Even the sunlight dispersing on the water,
the wind blowing through the pine forest, they were still the same.
The only thing changed was that I was alone. One press of the
shutter button and the scenery in front of my eyes flashed, for a
moment, that day 2 years and 10 months ago appeared and quickly
vanished again. That day we were sitting together in front of this
day. Tired, empty-handed, hopeless, but we were together.

I turned my car around and stepped on the accelerator. I drove

through the tunnel, passing the rest stop. Somewhere near the
school where we used to go to, I opened the car window. It was a
night in spring. The air was warm and the cherry blossoms were
fluttering about on the trees ranging along the school walls. I left
the school, crossed through the crossroad and made a few turns.
Not far away, I could see the lights from the gas station where
Namjoon works at.

Seokjin
11 April YEAR 22

With a screech, the car stopped. Having fallen into thought, I

had not seen the traffic lights change. Students with familiar
uniforms stared at me through the car window as they crossed the
road. There were even people pointing at me. I gave a strained
smile as I dropped my head.
 I knew what I had to do. But that did not mean I was not afraid.
Would I truly be able to end all this misfortune and pain? Don’t
repeated failures mean there can never be any success? Shouldn’t
I be giving up? Isn’t our happiness only a vain hope? So many
thoughts came and left.

Without realising, I had reached the road of the petrol station

and I could see Namjoon working there. I drank a deep breath in
before exhaling slowly. I thought of Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin,
Taehyung, Jungkook’s faces, one at a time. And with that, I changed
lanes and entered the petrol station. I could not give up. Even if
there was only a 1% chance, I would not give up. Over my window,
I could see Namjoon come closer. I lowered the car window, “Long
time no see.”

[NOTE: this was the surprise ending of 'Blood, Sweat & Tears - JPN
Vers.']

Namjoon
28 April YEAR 22
 I had a feeling that something happened to Taehyung for a while
now. Although he acted like nothing happened, from the sudden
act, expression, and the way he talked showed the uncertainty and
anxiety. He frequently visited the police station and I saw injuries
on his body. And he had nightmares.

What happened, talk about it I didn't ask that because I was

waiting for Taehyung to talk about it himself. At one point I thought
if I even had the right to hear about his worries. Acting like his
hyung, acting like an adult but I wasn't a real adult. I was hesitating
without realizing the reality in front of me.

“Yoongi is dead.” Taehyung once again had a nightmare. As I

grabbed his shoulder and shook him he woke up with a surprise and
sat there for a while. Without even thinking to wipe his tears he
kept talking nonsense. He said Yoongi died, Jungkook got in an
accident, and I got in a fight. He said he kept dreaming these and
it's so real that it seems like the dream is reality and the reality is a
dream. “Hyung don't go anywhere.” Taehyung's voice trembled
uneasily.
Taehyung
30 April YEAR 22

From the shock I couldn't move for a moment. From afar Seokjin
was sitting in the car. I did hear from Namjoon that he had came
back but it was the first time I actually saw his face. Hyung looked
like he was searching something on his phone then cringed. With
just that, there was nothing weird. It wasn't like any of his facial
features had a dramatic change. Even I couldn't explain why I was
shocked. Cold. Dry. Empty. There was no word that could fully
express Hyung's face. No, it was not even close. It was a spring day
but chills seeped in. I shuddered. Hyung was making the exact
expression I saw in my dream.

The reason I turned my head was because Jungkook appeared

from the corner. Jungkook with a hurried face, looked around and
ran across the alley. That moment Seokjin got out of the car, body
movements mixed with annoyance. It wasn't clear as he was far,
but looking at his mouth it seemed like he mumbled that it got
annoying. Seokjin walked towards a motel that was a little far,
dropped something in front of the entrance, and looked towards
where Jungkook ran off to.
Seokjin
2 May YEAR 22

Would I be able to correct the mistakes and save others? I did

not understand the depth and weight of this question.

Seokjin
2 May YEAR 22

I was so nervous that my fingers stiffened. I clenched and

unclenched my fists. What if I fail? I'd done this repeatedly, but I felt
terrified each time. I took a slow, deep breath and thought about
Yoongi. He must be drunk by now, clicking his lighter with one hand
and holding his phone with the other. He might be lying on the
couch, contemplating the reasons why he should go on living. Or
the reasons not to.

How does Yoongi see the world and himself? I was faced with
this question every time I tried to save him. I couldn't understand
how he could keep trying to destroy himself. It didn't mean I was
overjoyed living in this world or that each and every day of my life
was filled with happiness. In fact, I was never captivated by
anything, not even by life and death.

Looking back, I was no different when I first started all this.

Would I be able to straighten out the errors and mistakes and save
all of us? I didn't grasp the depth and weight of this question. It was
true that I desperately wanted to save all of us. No one deserves to
die, to despair, to be suppressed, and to be despised. On top of that,
they were my friends. We might've had our flaws and scars and
have been twisted up and distorted. We might've been nobodies.
But we were alive. We had days to live, plans to follow, and dreams
to fulfill.

At first, I didn't think much of it. I thought it'd all depend on how
much effort I put in after I figured out who I needed to save and
from what. That was what I'd thought. I believed I could solve it all
by persuading them and changing things. I was that simple and
naive. But it was no more than an attempt to save my own skin.
After a series of trials and errors, I had a realization. It wasn't so
simple to save the others.
 Yoongi wasn't easy to handle. He was probably the most
difficult of all. He was always changing the time and place of his
attempts at suicide. I had to approach him differently than the
others. A solution that worked fine the last time didn't work the
next time. Just when I thought I'd finally unraveled one mystery, it
led to another hitch.

At first, I couldn't put my finger on his reasons. After everything,

all I could guess was that Yoongi's distress was connected to his
inner conflict. Namjoon got caught in a fight because of those rude
customers at the gas station. But Yoongi was different. He had no
definite target and no definite cause. He had too many variables.

I tried to imagine what was going on in Yoongi's head. Once, I

followed him secretly for hours. His footsteps were insecure and
unpredictable. He staggered through the night streets and tried to
fling himself into the fire. He sometimes squatted on the ground
and listened to music that flowed out of somewhere inside an
underground shopping arcade. After a night of following him, I
realized how dry, dull, and flat my own life was. It wasn't that I
envied Yoongi. The suffering he must have endured, going from one
extreme to the other, were beyond my imagination. All I could do
was watch him stagger on.

One setback was always followed by another. A new layer of

despair came down even before the previous one was stripped. I
might not be able to save Yoongi after all. I couldn't find a
breakthrough. But at that moment, hope flew in. I once heard that
hope had wings. It was a little bird with wings.

A bird flew into Yoongi's workroom, which was in an abandoned

building in the middle of a redevelopment neighborhood. It had
been decided to demolish the neighborhood a long time ago, but it
was left deserted when the redevelopment plan stalled. The bird
flew in through a broken window. Yoongi was standing in the
middle of the workroom with a lighter in his hand. The entire
workroom smelled strongly of gasoline. I was standing right outside
the door. I was about to jump in when I heard a big thud and the
flapping of wings. The door was half open, so I peeked through.
Yoongi had his back to me.

The bird collapsed on the floor. It fluttered its wings again but
failed to rise into the air. Yoongi stood completely still and looked
down at the bird. I still couldn't see his face. The bird flopped
around the workroom in search of a way out. It bumped its wings
into the wall and the chair, and the feathers that fell out drifted
around on the floor. Yoongi was just gazing at it. His hand holding
the lighter still hung in the air. He finally dropped his arm, sank
down, and covered his head with both hands.

I went into his workroom that night. It was spacious but

desolate. A dirty sofa, chair, and piano were all I could find there.
Crumpled pieces of paper were scattered all over the floor. He
must've tried to start a fire. Some of them looked like lines of music,
with sentences of lyrics scribbled on them.

I looked around. I found the thing with wings. The bird was
crouching behind the piano, with dried blood around the wounds
on its wings. It seemed petrified and cowered in fear when I came
near. Tiny drops of blood were smeared on the floor. Bread crumbs
and water were set out in front of the piano.

I took a step back. Even if I let it out the window, it wouldn't be

able to fly yet. How long would it take for the wounds to heal?
Would Yoongi remain safe and sound while the bird was staying
here? Then, a thought came to my mind. Yoongi must've stopped
himself because of this. This wounded little bird. A fragile thing that
couldn't protect or save itself. A tiny being that entrusted its life to
Yoongi.

After that day, I had a realization. If all the variables related to

Yoongi's suicidal attempts existed within Yoongi, why not drag at
least one of them out? I'd have to seek the right target and create
the right situation. A variable that could give Yoongi a reason to
stop destroying himself. Someone who could share his scars and
desires. That someone wasn't me. "It's not something you can do
alone." I became painfully aware of the full meaning of these words
I'd heard not long after all this started.

I realized that Jungkook had the same look in his eyes as Yoongi
when NamJoon said it. "Jungkook still has that photo." He meant
the photo we took together on the beach in high school. Namjoon
seemingly wanted to let me know that Jungkook was still thinking
of me, but I was reminded of a completely different scene.

On the day we went looking for that rock that made dreams
come true, we laughed, complained, and played under the
scorching sun. And, devastated at finding that the rock had
vanished, I cried out my dream, which even I couldn't hear, to the
sea. At that moment, I saw Jungkook yelling some question at
Yoongi. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could sense that it
was important to Jungkook. What did he ask Yoongi? Why him? I
hadn't given it a second thought back then. Yoongi was not as lively
as Hoseok, not as friendly as Jimin, and not as reliable as Namjoon.
Why was it Yoongi? I suddenly realized. It was Yoongi who saved
Jungkook. The two had the same look in their eyes.

It wasn't difficult to send Jungkook to Yoongi. Jungkook was

alone at school and at home. He had nowhere to go after school.
He usually spent his time at Hoseok's burger joint or wandered
around Namjoon's container. I locked the door of the container and
made Hoseok leave the store before Jungkook dropped by. After
roaming around for quite a while. Jungkook finally headed for
Yoongi's workroom. He seemed to have mixed feelings. Should I go
in? What if he thinks I'm annoying? Expectation and fear both
swirled across Jungkook's face. Since that day, he visited Yoongi's
workroom every day. At first, Yoongi flatly told him to go away, but
he didn't really mean it.
 A shadow appeared shortly. It was Jungkook. I burrowed myself
deeper into the seat. They didn't know I was back vet. Except
Namjoon, who I met at the gas station. Namjoon said everybody
would be thrilled, but I refused to meet them. I was waiting for the
right moment. I had to wait until all of us were together.

Maybe we were tied up together with strings and supporting

one another. It wasn't easy to trace this web of strings. It was like
an intricate maze. When some strings and knots were figured out,
other parts snapped. When one string was pulled too tightly,
everything collapsed in an instant. I had to connect the dots, one
string with another, closely observing the others, to get them to
save one another without realizing it.

Jungkook stopped in front of Yoongi's workroom and looked up

at the second floor. He didn't look too cheerful. Yoongi had gone
through a difficult time over the past ten days. He had been drinking
heavily and tormenting himself. I pushed Jungkook into this depth
of agony. Yoongi's suffering must've been too overwhelming for
Jungkook. Once, Jungkook gave up on Yoongi. Back then, Yoongi
threw himself into the flames. But cruelly, Yoongi didn't die.
Jungkook never forgave himself for failing to stop him.
 About ten minutes had passed since Jungkook went into
Yoongi's workroom. The sound of something shattering came out
of the second-floor window, and Yoongi, with busted lips appeared
at the entrance of the building, staggering. He hurried down the
sloping road. I looked up at the window on the second floor.
Jungkook must be sitting up there by the shattered mirror. He must
be thinking he couldn't save Yoongi. He must be thinking it was
hopeless.

I started the car after seeing Jungkook run out of the building.
Yoongi must be heading to the motel down the block. I should leave
a clue for Jungkook to Yoongi’s whereabouts. That was all I could
do. I dropped some blood-stained tissue near the gate of the motel.
Sitting in the car, I saw Jungkook climbing the stairs of the motel. I
left a photo in front of the mirror in Yoongi's workroom early this
morning. It was the photo of all of us taken that day we went to the
beach. Did Jungkook see the photo? I couldn't know if Jungkook
followed Yoongi because of that photo, if Jungkook decided to give
it a try seeing a small seed of hope, or if Jungkook was motivated
by something else.
 I wasn't sure how Jungkook could save Yoongi. That decisive
moment in life, that last moment, for each of us. including Jungkook
and Yoongi can't be interfered with. It can only be shared by those
who suffer the same wound, understand each other's fears, dreams
and defeats, and therefore see through each other to the core.
I looked up at the motel window. I wondered what Jungkook and
Yoongi were talking about in there. And I desperately wished that
the thing with wings would be able to take off into the sky from
there.
[NOTE: This is the fight from 'RUN' M/V]

Yoongi
2 May YEAR 22

The sheet that caught on fire immediately started burning. The

last surroundings I would see in this world were my messy &
isolated room, the red-hot flames & rolling heat, & Jungkook’s
twisted, distorted face.
[NOTE: The fire and everything that Seokjin recapped in his note
before this happened April 30th when Taehyung saw them. Yoongi
is now 'writing' about it as he's been hospitalized for days.]

Yoongi
2 May YEAR 22

The bed sheet that caught on fire quickly flamed up. In the
unbearable heat everything that looked poor lost its presence. Sour
moldy smell, the unknown humidity, and the damp light all lost its
presence. The only thing left was pain. The physical pain from the
heat, fingertips, the skin, it was so hot that it felt like I would gt
blister and melt down instantly. Now the emotionless father's face
and the sound of the music desperted.

Between father and I, a lot of things were different. Father

didn't understand me and I didn't understand father. Would I have
been able to persuade him if I tried. Probably not. The only thing I
was able to do was hide, rebel, and run away. Then I think that the
thing I'm trying to runaway from is not actually father. Then a wave
of fear came to me. What am I running away from? How do I get
away from myself? Everything seemed impossible.

It sounded like someone was calling me but I didn't raise my

head. wasn't sure if it was the heat or the pain but I couldn't
breathe. I had no energy to move. But I was able to tell. It was
Jungkook. He is probably mad. He would probably be sad for me. I
just wanted to sit down here. Smoke and the heat, pain and fear I
wanted to end everything here. Jungkook shouted something again
but I couldn't hear him still. My sight darkened. For the last time I
turned around. The last scene I see from this world, just dirty lonely
room, scarlet red flames and heat, and Jungkook's face.
[NOTE: This is the scene from 'Euphoria']

Yoongi
2 May YEAR 22

They said it will be a scar that would remain for a long time. Take
time and heal them slowly, and said as the area is not that big, it
will be better than what is now if I get treated frequently. 4 days
since I had been hospitalized, the scar from the burn appeared as
the doctor removed the gauze. Skin on left arm that turned red
almost black. It was my body but it didn't feel like mine. It was
strange. The moment I dropped the lighter I was ready to take
something worse than this. But then just with this small scar, I felt
paradoxically to myself.

“It's going to hurt a little.” As they started dressing blood

spurted out from the wound. The blood wetting the white gauze
looked like fire. Like the scarlet red fire that looked like it was going
to swallow me that day. I tried to hold it but I groaned. Doctor said
bleeding was a good sign. It was proof that there was new skin
under the dead skin. Even in the middle of the pain I chuckled. Why
are new things possible after death? What would have happened if
I had died back then? Perhaps that was the only method to start
everything new?

I looked at my arm. Blood lightly seeped out on the newly

wrapped gauze. I called the blood stain, ‘Fire’. The doctor called it
‘Regenerating’. Who's words are right?
Jungkook
2 May YEAR 22

I lifted my head to see Namjoon in front of the container. He

opened the door and stepped inside. He gathered all the garments
scattered around the floor as a blanket, and huddled there. The chill
came. My whole body shook badly and I felt like I wanted to cry. But
I couldn’t even do that.

When I opened the door and entered, Yoongi was standing on

top of the bed. The train of the sheet was blazing on fire. In that
moment, an anger and fear that I could not contain enveloped me
whole. I was not someone who could speak well. Expressing my
feelings, persuading another – I was awkward at both. As tears
gathered and I began to cough, it became even harder to speak. The
only words I could spit out as I ran into the blaze was “We said we’d
all go to the sea together.”

“Why are you like this? Did you have a nightmare or

something?” Due to someone shaking my shoulder, I opened my
eyes. It was Namjoon. Strangely enough, a feeling of security fell
upon me. He laid his hand on me and said I had a fever. It really felt
like I did. The inside of mouth felt like it was boiling, but it was
intensely cold otherwise. I had a splitting headache and my throat
hurts. I could barely have the medicine hyung gave me. “Sleep
more. Let’s talk later.” I nodded my head. And then I spoke. “Will I
be able to become an adult like you?” Namjoon turned to look at
me.

Hoseok
10 May YEAR 22

When I was back to my senses I was walking on a bridge. The

sun was strong it gave me a hard time to open my eyes properly.
When I was thinking about ‘why did I come all the way here?’, I felt
dizzy and my vision blurred. My knees seemed to bend and the
honking from cars hit my ears. My vision seemed to tilt to one side
and I saw the dark river water of Yangji Cheon.

The Auntie at the orphanage was the first person I was able to
depend on after I lost my mother. The dawn I woke up from the
fever, the empty bed that was left after sending off my friend who
got adopted, when I woke up from seizure due to narcolepsy, from
entering middle school to graduating high school, the person who
was by my side was Auntie.

That Auntie got sick. The voice that came through a normal call
was her sibling from the orphanage. I can't remember clearly how I
went to Auntie's house. All I remember is her house and the face I
saw through the open window. Auntie was having a conversation
with someone and burst out laughing. Everything - that she is sick,
that she needs to go through surgery, that there wasn't much hope
- all these seemed like a lie. I was barely able to hide before making
eye contact. If I was to face her, I felt like I was going to burst into
tears. I felt like I was going to resent how even Auntie is going to
leave me. I walked. It seemed like someone was calling me but I
didn't turn back.

A big bus passed me making a wind. Mom. I mumbled looking

at the bus that passed me. The day I was separated with mom, even
that day we rode a bus like that. Would Auntie leave my side like
how mom did? Would I lose another person who was precious to
me? As I raised my head, sunlight poured down. Then the world
started to collapse. The sound of friction made with tires and
asphalt when passing by, the wind blowing from the river, all the
memories made with Auntie broke down in the sunlight. I collapsed
on the ground.

Hoseok
10 May YEAR 22

My narcolepsy occurred anytime, anywhere. I ended up having

dreams about Mom when I blacked out. The dreams were all alike.
I was heading somewhere on the bus with Mom.

Hoseok
10 May YEAR 22

My narcolepsy occurred anytime, anywhere. I collapsed without

warning while working and blacked out suddenly on the street. I
pretended that I wasn't so concerned about it in front of those who
worried about me. I'd never told anyone that I couldn't bear to
count to ten. I always ended up having dreams about Mom when I
blacked out. The dreams were all alike. I was heading somewhere
with Mom on a bus. I was excited and cheerful. I read the signs that
passed by, watched her profile, and kept fidgeting. I was about 7 in
my dreams. Then, it suddenly crossed my mind. Mom had left me.
I was 20 when I realized that. Mom was still sitting in the seat in
front of me on the bus. She looked exactly the same from behind.
When I whispered "Mom," she turned her head as if she heard me.
Her silhouette glimmered against the bright sunlight and her hair
fluttered in the wind just like at the amusement park that day. The
saddest part was that I knew. I knew that I would awake from this
dream if she turned her head further and looked at me. I tried to
tell her not to turn around, but my voice failed. I kept trying to
shout. "Mom, don't turn around. Don't turn around." But she
always turned around and looked at me. Just when our eyes were
about to meet, everything turned white, and the pale fluorescent
light on the ceiling of the hospital room appeared.

It was the same today. When I opened my eyes, the first thing
that came into sight was the fluorescent light on the ceiling. I was
changed into a patient gown. The doctor said I seemed to have had
a concussion and needed a more thorough check. I was moved to a
six-person hospital room. I felt exhausted. I always felt exhausted
when I regained consciousness.
[NOTE: scene from 'I Need U' M/V.]

Jimin
11 May YEAR 22

I was transferred to the surgery ward about two weeks ago. At

first, it felt strange to see people coming and going so. freely. Soon,
I found that it was just another part of the hospital. There were
patients, nurses, and doctors. I was given drugs and injections. All
in all, it was about the same as the psychiatric ward. The only
difference was that the surgery ward had a longer hallway with a
lounge halfway down. Of course, there was one more major
difference. I was allowed to freely roam around the ward. At night,
I sneaked out of my room and wandered around. I jumped and
danced in the lounge and ran down the first-floor hallway at full
speed. These were simple joys that weren't allowed in the
psychiatric ward. [NOTE: this is from 'Euphoria'. the cut-scenes
where he's on his own running through the hall.]

One day, I discovered something strange about myself while I

was running down the hall. At some point past the kitchenette and
emergency staircase, my body just came to a grinding halt for no
reason. I still had about five more steps to reach the end, but I
stopped and was unable to take another step. At the end of the
hallway was a door. The door opened to the outside world. Outside
the hospital. The door had no "Off Limits" sign, and no one came
running to stop me. But I just couldn't go any further. I soon found
out why. That was the stretch of the hallway just like the psychiatric
ward. As if a line was drawn on the floor, I came to a stop at exactly
that point, where the psychiatric ward hallway would've ended.

They called me a good kid in the psychiatric ward. I sometimes

had seizures, but mostly I was obedient. I smiled and went on lying
without anyone being the wiser. And I knew my limit. The hallway
of the psychiatric ward could be covered in 24 even strides. When I
was first hospitalized, I was 8. I cried and demanded to go home
with Mom, holding onto the iron door at the end of that hallway. I
frantically tried to open the door until the nurses came running and
gave me an injection. For a while, the nurses tensed up whenever I
stepped into the hall. Now, no one paid attention to me even if I
ran down the hall and reached the door. I already knew that the
door was locked anyways. I just kept running down to the door and
coming back. I no longer begged them to open the door or wept.

But the world is full of people more idiotic than me. They held
and shook the door endlessly. They were suppressed by the staff,
given injections, and tied to their beds. If they had behaved just a
bit more acceptably, their lives could've become much more
comfortable. They didn't know any better.

I wasn't like this in the beginning. I was also dropped senseless

by the sedatives forcefully injected by the nurses and got caught
trying to escape from the hospital in early days. I called Mom, crying
violently enough to go hoarse several times. "I'm not sick. I'm okay
now. Please come and take me home." I stayed up all night for
several days but Mom didn't come.

When I was taken to the hospital after they found me

unconscious at the Grass Flower Arboretum, my parents didn’t ask
any questions. They ignored the fact that I had blacked out there. It
was the same when I developed seizures. They hospitalized me,
discharged me after some time, and transferred me to another
school. Family reputation was important to them. A son with
mental illness was unacceptable.

I didn't become a good kid overnight. There was no dramatic

event or memorable incident. I just continued to give up on myself
bit by bit, just as a fingernail grows. I stopped crying and longing to
go outside at some point. I stopped dashing towards the door down
the hallway.

I attended school in between hospital stays, but I knew I'd be

sent back eventually. It felt refreshing to look up into the sky and
enjoy the fragrance of each season. But I tried not to hold them in
my memory. They'd soon be kept from me anyway. Friends, too. A
history of mental illness was not helpful in making friends.

There was one exception. I met a group who felt like true
friends. It was almost two years ago. I tried not to remember them,
but I couldn't help recalling those days. I had to part with them after
I had a seizure at the bus stop after school. The last scene I
remembered was the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum
shuttle bus opening. That's when blacked out.
 When I opened my eyes, I was at a hospital. Mom was over in
the corner talking on her phone. My mind whirled for a while. I
didn't know where I was or how I got there. I gazed around and
discovered windows with metal bars. Then, it all came back to me.
The blue sky I saw on my way home, the silly games we played at
the bus stop, the arboretum shuttle bus coming closer, and the
glares through the bus windows.

I shut my eyes. But it was too late. The front gate of the
arboretum appeared before my eyes. It was school picnic day in first
grade. I was running through heavy rain with my backpack over my
head. A warehouse came into sight. The door was left open. I
stepped inside. The sticky, musty smell, the sound of my heavy
breathing, and screechy, metallic sound. I sat up in my bed and
screamed.
"No! I don't remember! I forgot!" Mom came running, calling
out to someone. I shook my head violently. I swung my arms in
every direction to get rid of that smell, touch, sound, and sight. But
the memories came flooding in. The dam that had held them back
the past ten years collapsed and every detail of that day surged
through my mind, eyes, cells, and nails as if it was happening again.
I had a seizure and was given an injection. The drug flowed through
my blood vessels, and I quickly dozed off. I closed my eyes and
wished that this was all a dream and that when I awoke again, I
wouldn't be able to recall anything.

That wish was just a wish. Instead, a cycle of seizures, injections,

and injection-induced sleep that felt like falling off a cliff continued.
After I awoke from sleep, my whole body felt like it was covered
with mud. Mud that looked like blood. No matter how hard I tried
to wash it off, that warehouse smell lingered. I scrubbed until I bled,
but it still felt dirty.

When the doctor asked me about it in a concerned tone, I

trembled and apologized at first. I repeatedly said that I was sorry.
It was all my fault. Please let me forget all about it. Then, I tried to
pretend nothing had happened. I didn't know what he was talking
about. I didn't remember anything. So I gazed at the doctor and
smiled. "I don't remember anything." Did the doctor actually
believe me? I wasn't sure. But what was important was that I
became a good kid. My life at the hospital was peaceful. It was an
ideal place to idle my time away. I didn't long for anything and didn't
feel constrained, scared, or lonely. That was, until last night. Before
I met Hoseok again.

I was transferred to the surgery ward because I fought with the

idiot who kept trying to get to the door at the end of the hallway
despite the nurses' constraint. Both of us were injured and were put
into two different rooms on the fifth floor of the surgery ward. I was
put in a six-person room. My bed was in the middle, and patients
on either side changed frequently.

I woke up in the middle of the night. The patient next to me

seemed to be having a nightmare and continued to groan. The
groaning sound came from the bed on my left. I pulled the blanket
over my head. I was sick and tired of nightmares. I didn't need to
hear this. I tried to put up with it for a while, but his nightmare went
on and on. Finally, I got up and stepped over to his bed. I tapped his
shoulder and tried to help. "It's okay. It's just a dream."

I found out this morning that that patient was Hoseok. I drew
the curtains for my breakfast, and Hoseok was sitting on the bed
next to mine. [NOTE: The scene in 'Run' M/V where Hobi hits Jimin
with a pillow actually represents this part.] He seemed glad to see
me again. Was I glad, too? Probably, in one corner of my mind. He
had hung out with me and taken care of me, a transfer who was a
complete stranger at school. He also took the long way home with
me after school. I still recall the days when we used to walk home
with popsicles in our hands. But he was also the one who saw my
seizure at the bus stop before I came here. He was the one who
brought me to this hospital. He must've run into Mom. I didn't want
to explain my situation to him.

I got out of the room with my meal left untouched. Hoseok

seemed to follow me, but I knew every corner of this hospital. He
couldn't catch up with me. I roamed around the hospital all day
long. From the stairs, I saw the others, even Jungkook, when they
came to see Hoseok. They hadn't changed much.

All that afternoon, I climbed up and down the stairs and hung
around on the other floors. I leaned against the window at the end
of the hallway and counted the passing cars. I grew upset. I had
skipped all my meals, and there wasn't anywhere to sit and relax
comfortably. It was annoying to hear the peals of laughter coming
from my room. I got angrier because I couldn't figure out why I was
so angry. I came back to my bed late at night. "Where have you
been?" he asked me casually. Then, he handed me a piece of bread.

It must've been because I was starving. The bread was warm

and delicious. I couldn't help confessing to him. That I'd long been
confined in the psychiatric ward. That I was briefly transferred to
the surgery ward but would be sent back soon. That I wouldn't be
discharged in the near future. That, as he witnessed, I was a person
who had seizures on the street. That I was a patient who might be
dangerous. I didn't want to add the last part. But I thought it'd stop
him from criticizing me.

He paused for a minute. Then, he took away my bread. "Jimin,

don't exaggerate. Don't you know that I have narcolepsy? I can
blackout anytime or anywhere. Am I dangerous, too?" He took a
bite of my bread. I just froze, not knowing what to say. Then, he
said, "What? You want this back?" He bit into the bread again and
returned it to me. I took it back right away. He asked me again. "Are
seizures infectious? Narcolepsy isn't. Don't worry." He hadn't
changed a bit.
Hoseok
12 May YEAR 22

I opened the emergency staircase door and ran down. I ran like
the heart was about to explode. The face I passed by in the hallway
of the hospital was definitely mom's face. The moment I turned
around the elevator door opened and people swarmed out. I
desperately pushed away people to move forward and saw from
afar that she entered the emergency staircase. Desperately I went
down 2 stairs at a time. Without stopping I went down multiple
floors.

“Mom!” She stopped. I made a step forward. She turned her

body around. I went down another step. Mom's face was now
visible. It was that moment, my heels slipped on the tip of the stair
and body balance leaned forward. I closed my eyes thinking I was
going to fall. Someone grabbed my arm. To that I was able to catch
my balance. When I turned around I saw Jimin with a surprised look
on his face. Without being able to say thank you I turned my head
around.
 I saw a woman. She had a surprised look on her face. Next to
her a little boy blinking his big eyes looked at me. It wasn't mom.
looked at her stood there on the stairs without saying a word.

I don't remember what I said to get out of that situation. I didn't

even ask how Jimin was there. To question small things my head
was filled with complications. The lady wasn't my mother. Perhaps
I already knew from the beginning. It's been 10 years since I was left
in the amusement park alone. Mom probably has aged and would
probably be different than what I remember. Even if I were to meet
mom I won't be able to recognize her face. No, I don't remember
her face anymore now.

I turned back. Jimin was following me without a word. After

getting separated in the emergency room during high school, Jimin
said he had stayed in the hospital since then. When I asked if he
didn't want to go out, I remember him not being able to do
anything. Maybe Jimin is locked in the memory without being able
to let go like me. I step forward to Jimin

“Jimin let's get out of here.”

Jimin
15 May YEAR 22

“Run Jimin.” We all started running. I was caught up in the

excitement and ran with them. The snacks and plastic soda bottles
flew into the air.

Jimin
15 May YEAR 22

Three days passed after Hoseok was discharged from the

hospital. I didn't want to say goodbye, so I followed him secretly.
While I kept hiding and tagging behind, Hoseok walked down the
long hallway towards the door. He nonchalantly passed the line
near the emergency exit, where I'd always come to a stop. I
watched him from behind. Without realizing it, I stopped right
there. I could take at least five more strides, but I just stood there.

Hoseok slowly reached out and gently pushed the door open.
The dazzling sunlight poured in through the open door along with
the outside air. It smelled a bit pungent, but felt refreshing at the
same time. The landscape on the other side of the door washed
over me. When Hoseok stepped outside, the door began to close. I
could slide through if I ran now. I looked down at the ground. The
limit line, which was visible to no one but me, was still there.

I turned around. Or, I was about to turn around when someone

passed by, shoving my shoulder hard. I fell forward onto the floor. I
raised my head, still lying on the ground. I had crossed the line.
Some idiot was running past me, heading for the door. He was the
one who had shoved me. He continued to jostle others on his way.
He didn't pay attention to them. As he pushed the door as hard as
he could, the sunlight streamed in again. He ran outside. A nurse
chased him, but he was faster. The door began to close again. I
sprang to my feet. One step over my line. I took one more step
forward. It was only three more strides to get to the door. But I
turned around again, well aware of my limit.

A stranger already occupied Hoseok's bed. I closed my eyes but

couldn't get to sleep. I couldn't help but dwelt on what he'd said
before he was discharged. [NOTE: the scene from 'LIE - Short Film'
where Jimin is next to an empty hospital bed represents him feeling
left alone when Hobi was discharged.] "Jimin, let's get out of here."
He wore a complicated expression that I'd never seen before. He'd
never looked or sounded that way before. I was just standing there
looking hesitant, not knowing how to respond. There was one more
reason I couldn't stop thinking about his words. There was an
incident that occurred right before then.

I was waiting for the elevator on the second floor where I had
physical therapy. I tripped while scuffling with the idiot, and my
wrist was injured and didn't heal well. I was getting impatient as
Hoseok's discharge was approaching, but the elevator was stuck on
the ninth floor. I thought I heard someone calling my name just as I
was thinking of taking the stairs. That someone was standing in
front of the emergency exit at the end of the hallway. I couldn't
quite make out who it was with the sunlight coming through the
window. When I took a step forward, the person suddenly ran
through the emergency exit. The person's profile can into sight
momentarily, but I still couldn't recognize who it was. Who could
that be? I walked towards the emergency staircase, feeling strange.

As I opened the emergency exit door and put my head in

someone passed by quickly. I instinctively pulled my head back. We
almost collided. "Mom!" Hearing the desperate cry, I stuck my head
back in. It was Hoseok, frantically leaping down the stairs. And there
was a woman standing at the foot of the staircase. What's all this?
I stepped onto landing. Hoseok lost his footing right at that
moment. I darted forward and reached out my hands without
thinking and caught him. Hoseok faltered as I abruptly slowed him
down, and I barely managed to keep my balance. [NOTE: scene
from 'Euphoria' where Jimin catches Hoseok.]

He didn't say anything until we had climbed back up the stairs

and stepped into the fifth-floor hallway. He remained silent while
we walked to the hospital room. Then, he suddenly stopped and
looked at me. ''Jimin, let's get out of here." I couldn't answer. He
told me firmly. "I'll come back for you." I replied, "I'm going back to
the psychiatric ward in a few days."

Three days passed. I was to go back to the psychiatric ward the

next day. I tidied up my belongings and lay down. I tossed and
turned for a while but soon dozed off.

I awoke with the sense of something falling. The hospital was a

strange place, and it was hard to sleep soundly. I could feel
everything around me with my eyes closed, and even the smallest
sounds kept me wide awake. The hospital room was pitch dark. A
breeze blew in through the open window. curtains The cu flapped
amidst the flow of the already sultry air. The ceiling, the floor,
darkness, and silence. They were all familiar.

I was about to switch on the nightstand when someone's hand

held me back. It was Hoseok. I sat up in surprise and he put his
forefinger on his lips. "We all came together." He said they were
waiting for me outside. He reached out his hand.

I was still buried under so many fears. I was invisible to my

parents. I'd be taken as no more than an escapee from a psychiatric
ward in the outside world. It was safer to just stay in the hospital as
an obedient patient. I wasn't sure I'd adjust well out there. I could
think of a million reasons not to leave.

Hoseok didn't hesitate. He grabbed my hand, brought me to my

feet, and handed me a t-shirt. I was out of bed before I knew it. The
hallway was still and quiet. A few nurses were stationed at the desk.
They were all occupied with their own work and didn't even look
our way, but Hoseok and I walked as quietly as possible, tensed up.
The elevator was waiting on the fifth floor. When the door slid
open, Namjoon and Seokjin were standing inside.

We got off on the first floor and stepped into the hallway when
Hoseok abruptly pushed me into a door on the left. It was a lounge.
It was usually crowded with patients and caregivers during the day,
but at night, it was quiet and dark with only the murky light of
streetlamps flowing in. A candle was lit and Jungkook and Taehyung
came out of the darkness. Yoongi's face was also visible behind
them. On the table were snacks and cans of soda.

A nurse came through the rear door just when I took a sip of
soda. Before I finished saying hello to them, the nurse asked what
we were doing here, and Yoongi said it was a birthday party. She
stepped into the lounge. "Are you all our inpatients? I don't think
so." I was the only one wearing a patient gown. Without realizing it,
I tightened my hand around the soda can. The aluminum can
crumpled with an eerie sound. Hoseok grabbed my shoulder. "It's
okay." It was Namjoon. "When I give the signal, just start running."
It must've been Jungkook.
 Seokjin, who was already by the front door, threw us a glance
and went outside. Hoseok looked around us and spit out in a low
voice. "Run, Jimin." We all started running. I was caught up in the
excitement and ran with them. Taehyung lost his footing and
almost fell, and the snacks and plastic soda bottles flew into the air.
[NOTE: the cut-scenes from 'Euphoria' where Jimin is running with
the others.] We darted nimbly through the tables and poured out
into the first-floor hallway. The loud voices and footsteps of the
nurses continued to pursue us. The hallway stretched out before us
just as it did yesterday.

My heart pounded as I passed the kitchenette and came to the

emergency stairs. Without realizing it, my pace slowed. My head
was bombarded with questions. Would it really be okay? Am I sure?
It might be even harder out there. I might not have anyone on my
side. It'd be safer and more comfortable in here. It's not too late. I'd
better stop here. I'd better admit my limits. I'd better be a good kid.

My line was just a few steps away. I looked back. Now the
janitors had joined in and were chasing the others. My hand holding
the t-shirt trembled violently. They seemed to be right on my tail.
Maybe I had no chance. "It's okay, Park Jimin, run!" That voice
pushed me forward. I took one more step.

I crossed over the line. I had only taken one step closer to the
door, but a dramatic change occurred. Something inside me rolled
and pitched as if I'd just leaped from one steep cliff to another. As I
threw down my patient gown and put on the T-shirt, I took another
step forward towards the door. The next step was faster, and the
next even faster. The walls on both sides flashed by quickly, and the
door drew closer in big strides. Only five steps were left to get from
the line to the door. For anyone else, it was just a short distance of
five steps. But I hadn't dared to come this far. This was the first time
I'd made it past the line on my own.

The door was within reach. Once I pass through this door, the
environment will be completely different from the one that has
surrounded me. I refuse to think about what'll happen next. I'll
focus on taking one step at a time. I pushed the door with all my
might. Every cell of my body collided with the outside air. There was
no oppressive sunlight or fierce wind like I had always imagined. I
felt like crying. The sound of my heartbeat reverberated in all
directions.
Jimin
16 May YEAR 22

Hoseok's house was located in a very high altitude. A small

rooftop house you see after passing by big street and walk past the
cramped twisted roads the house's rooftop, that was hyung's
home. As we entered the house that only has a room, hyung
showed off that this was the real place everywhere we grew up was
located under our feet. the cities highest floor. As hyung said at the
rooftop you can see a lot of things. Not far you could see the train
station and following the railroads there was containers. One of
them was Namjoon lived. And if I moved my eyes just a little there
was the school we all attended together.

When I was looking for the school I turned to the opposite side
of the city. Following the mountain line there was a bunch of
apartment buildings. There was our house, no, my parents' home.
Right now I ran away from the hospital without giving any notice.
My parents probably got contacted. Perhaps it could be that they
might be looking for me right now. I wasn't ready to face my parents
yet. I came out of the hospital but I couldn't go home. That did not
mean I wanted to return back to the hospital. But I had nowhere to
go and I had no money. While I stood there fidgeting hyung told me
to follow him and lead the way. And that's where I ended up,
Hyung's house.

I looked up again and saw the apartments. There will be one day
I will have to go there. I would need to face my parents and tell
them that I won't go to hospital ever again. I breathed deeply just
thinking about it felt like I'm going to have seizures. I couldn't trust
myself that I could live here perfectly fine away from the hospital. I
might be sent to hospital again. I was too scared contain myself.

Hoseok
16 May YEAR 22

I could be my most honest self at home. Sometimes, I screamed

at the top of my lungs and sang at the window. Sometimes I played
music and danced like crazy. And sometimes I awoke at night
weeping. When I did, I just lay there still staring at the ceiling. But I
never collapsed with narcolepsy at home.
 Jimin didn't go back home after he left the hospital. He came to
my house and was now looking down at the city leaning against the
guard rail on the rooftop. He must be looking for our school, the
Two Star Burger joint, and the changing lights along the railroad like
me. He must also be looking for his house. That was something in
our human instincts. Everyone looks for their home when they
climb somewhere high or spread out a large map.

I thought of asking him why he didn't go home. But I gave up.

His head must be a mess, and I didn't want to aggravate it. Besides,
I could guess why based on how Jimin's mom reacted at the
emergency room that day. In fact, I rarely asked my friends
questions. I felt I knew the answers to most of them already. And I
didn't want them to feel awkward. Or they might find my questions
too inquisitive and annoying.

To be honest, I was always curious where the others were

headed when they walked by my store. But I never ran out to ask
them. Where was Jungkook going with his wounds? Was Yoongi's
workroom in that direction? Why did Namjoon leave school?
Where did Taehyung first learn graffiti? Come to think of it, I didn't
know much about the others.
 "Did you find it?" I drew closer to Jimin and asked. “Find what?"
Jimin sounded confused. "Your house." Jimin nodded. "I grew up in
the orphanage right there." I pointed to a place beyond the railroad.
"Do you see the supermarket in the direction of the river from the
gas station where Namjoon works? Do you see the clover-shaped
neon sign behind it? The orphanage is to the left of that neon sign.
I lived there for more than ten years." Jimin's eyes seemed to
wonder why I was telling him all this. My friends already knew that
I grew up in an orphanage. I considered it my home. I didn't force
myself to think that for peace of mind. I really believed that it was
my home. A home without Mom.

"I have something to confess." Something I'd been lying about.

"That my narcolepsy was fake."

[NOTE: Hoseok's narcoleptic episodes were a side effect of his

Munchausen's Syndrome (faking illness to the point you actually
become ill) - he's seen diagnosed as this in 'MAMA - Short Film']
That might have been why I couldn't ask anything about anyone. It
wasn't because I was afraid of hurting them. It was because I had
lied, because I didn't have the courage to be honest. Because, once
I admitted it, I'd also have to admit I have no one to call "Mom," not
just at the orphanage but in the entire world. That must've been
why I didn't ask any of them about their problems.

Jimin wasn't good at hiding his feelings. His startled look was
self-explanatory. I didn't know how to apologize to him. Jimin had
agonized over me countless times. He must've burst into tears
when he first witnessed it. "I didn't do it on purpose. I just must've
ignored that there was a way for me to be okay. I know this doesn't
make sense. I can't describe it clearly."

"Then, are you okay now?" Jimin, who'd been listening quietly
for some time, turned his head towards me and asked the question.
Am I okay now? I asked myself. Jimin was still looking at me. He was
neither criticizing nor sympathizing with me. I looked down at the
brightly lit city below. "Well, I don't know. We'll be able to figure it
out as time goes by. I'm looking forward to it. Aren't you?" Jimin
giggled. I laughed along.

[NOTE: not that important but this joint is from 'I Need U' M/V.]
Jimin
19 May YEAR 22

In the end, I had returned to the arboretum. I had to give up on

the lies – that I did not remember what had happened there. Hiding
out in the hospital, having seizures – I had to stop all these things.
And to do that, I had to go to that place. With that decided in my
heart, I had come to this bus stop for days on end. But I had not
been able to ride the shuttle bus to the arboretum.

Yoongi dropped down onto the seat next to me after three

buses had already come and gone. When I asked why he’d come,
he said it was because he had nothing to do and was bored. And
with that, he asked why I was sitting here like this. With a bowed
head, I hit the ground with the edge of shoe. I thought about why I
was sitting here like this. It was because I had no courage. I wanted
to pretend I was okay now, pretend to know something now,
pretend that I was able to easily deal with such things now – but I
was actually afraid. What I’d run into, whether I’d be able to bear
it, if I wouldn’t have a seizure again – I was afraid of all these things.
 Yoongi looked at ease. As if there was nothing in the world
deserving to be rushed, he said that the weather was good, and
other useless things. Only once I heard this did I realise that the
weather really was good today. I had been so anxious that I had not
been able to survey my surroundings. The sky was so blue. A warm
breeze blew intermittently. And the shuttle bus to the arboretum
was coming. The bus stopped and the door opened. The driver
looked at me. I impulsively asked.

“Hyung. Can you come with me?”

Taehyung
20 May YEAR 22

I wanted to kill not my father, but myself.

If only I could do that, I wanted to die right now, at this very

moment.
Hoseok
20 May YEAR 22

Taking Taehyung, we left the police station. “You did well.”

Lowering my head, I spoke with spirit, though I didn’t really feel that
way. From the police station, it wasn’t too far to Taehyung’s house.
If he lived much further away, would there have been less reason
for Taehyung to enter the police station so often? Why did
Taehyung’s parents decide to live so close to a police station? To
such a boy who was so kind to the point of idiocy, the world was
too unfair. I put an arm around his shoulder and asked “Are you
hungry?” pretending nothing was wrong. Taehyung shook his head.
I asked him “Did the hyungs at the police station say it was good to
see you and buy you food?” but Taehyung did not give any answer.

Into the sunshine, the two of us walked. Within my heart, a cold

wind blew. If even my heart was like this, how would he be feeling?
Would he have any of his heart left? How much pain would be in
his heart? Because I was thinking such things, I could not look him
in the face, and instead turned up to the sky. Through the faint
sunshine, a plane was passing by. The first time I saw the scars on
Taehyung’s back, it was when I met him in Namjoon’s container
hideout. Though nobody could speak because he had smiled so
cutely at his excitement in receiving a shirt, a part of my heart had
broken.

I had no parents. I had no recollection of my father, and my

mum too, I only knew until the age of seven. If we were speaking
about the pain received by parents in one’s childhood, I myself had
received enough. People say this: that you have to overcome your
pain, that you have to accept it and get used to it. That you have to
reconcile and forgive them. That it’s the only way to live. It’s not
that I don’t know. It’s not that I reject it out of hatred. But some
things can’t be done just by trying. Nobody told me how. Before I
became hardened enough for this world, it gave me new wounds. I
do know that there are no people with no wounds by the world. But
why is it necessary to have such deep wounds? For what reason is
it necessary? Why do we have to live such a life?

“Hyung. It’s okay. I can go alone.” He spoke at the crossroads. “I

know, kid.” Without concern, I took the lead. “It’s truly okay. Look.
I’m fine.” Taehyung smiled at me. I did not respond. There was no
way he could be okay. He was not fine, but once he acknowledged
that, it would be hard to go on. So he was ignoring it. It had become
his habit. Taehyung flipped over his hooded t-shirt and came to
follow me. “You’re really not hungry, right?” I asked him as we
reached the corridor of his home. Taehyung gave a dumb smile and
nodded his head. I watched him walk through the corridor with his
back turned, and then turned myself. The corridor that the kid was
walking through, the street I was returning by – they were both
narrow and desolate. That kid, and myself, are both alone.
[NOTE: Tae's police station visit is portrayed in 'STIGMA - Short
Film'.]

Seokjin
20 May YEAR 22

Taehyung's house was in one of the oldest buildings in the

neighborhood. Paint was peeling off here and there, and weeds
were growing out of cracks in the cement walls. It looked run-down.
I was waiting for Taehyung and Hoseok in the small park on the hill
behind the building. As it was on the slope, it overlooked the
outdoor hallway on Taehyung's floor of the building.
 Hoseok appeared from around a corner leading into an alley in
the distance. Taehyung was following him. His face wasn't quite
visible because he had his hood pulled down tight. Taehyung and
Hoseok exchanged a few words at the mouth of the alley. Taehyung
seemed to be trying to send Hoseok home and Hoseok was saying
he was fine. Hoseok started to walk again first. The two came up to
the front of the building without a word. Hoseok climbed the stairs
and stopped in front of Taehyung's door. He tapped on Taehyung's
shoulder and made a gesture at him to go into the house. Then, he
turned around and started walking towards the exit. Taehyung
stared at him from behind for a moment and reached out for the
doorknob.

I called Hoseok at the moment when Taehyung began to open

the door. After the dial tone rang three times, Hoseok took out his
phone in the middle of the hallway. Taehyung was stepping into his
house. "Hoseok, can you call Taehyung?" Hoseok stopped walking.
"I just saw him." I said I was planning a trip to the sea for all of us
and he should ask Taehyung to come along. Hoseok laughed, saying
of course Taehyung would come along. "But just to make sure,
could you ask him and let me know?" I hung up hastily. This was the
time. Hoseok must go into Taehyung's house now. Hoseok tilted his
head sideways, looking at his phone screen, and turned around.
Then, he went into Taehyung's house through the still-open door.
[NOTE: Tae stepped into his house and witnessed his father abusing
his sister and proceeded to hit his father with a broken bottle like
in 'I Need U' M/V.]

Taehyung
20 May YEAR 22

I looked down at my hands. There was blood on them. My legs

suddenly lost their strength. I was going to crouch down but
someone hugged me from behind. Through the windows, a misty
sunlight was filtering through. Noona was crying and Hoseok was
standing there without speaking. [NOTE: this is connected to this to
this scene from 'Euphoria'.] Dirty household goods and blankets
were, like always, spread around. Where my father had stood,
nobody was there. How he had fled the room, I could not
remember.

The uncontainable anger and sadness that I felt as I rushed

towards my father still remained. I did not know what it was that
had allowed me to control myself as I charged to stab my father. I
also did not know how to calm my turbulent heart. It wasn’t that I
wanted to kill my father – I wanted to kill myself. If I was just able
to do it, I wanted to die right now. I didn’t even have tears. I wanted
to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to kick and break everything, I
wanted to break, but I couldn’t do any of those things.

“Hyung. I’m sorry. I’m okay so. Go.” In contrast to my turbulent

heart, my voice was came out dry. It did not seem like my voice. I
sent him away, though he was loathe to leave, and I looked down
at my hands. Blood was seeping through the white bandage.
Instead of stabbing my father, I had hit the floor with the liquor
bottle. As the bottle shattered, my palm had ripped. As I closed my
eyes, the world spinned. What I was supposed to think, what I was
supposed to do, how I was supposed to live. As I came to my senses,
I was looking down at Namjoon’s phone number. Even in such a
situation – no, more so because it was such a situation, I was
desperate for his presence. I wanted to tell him. Hyung. I – my
father, the father that bore me, the father that beat me up daily – I
was about to kill him. I was seriously about to kill him. No, in actual
fact, I killed him. I killed him countless times in my head. In my
heart, I killed him repeatedly. I wanted to kill him. I want to die.
What I have to do now, I don’t know at all. Hyung, I just want to see
you now.
[NOTE: Tae calls Namjoon - see 'Prologue'.]

Jungkook
22 May YEAR 22

At some point, we were all running along the coastal road. I was
out of breath, sweaty, and had a splitting headache. But I didn’t
stop because they continued on.

Jungkook
22 May YEAR 22

Someone shook my shoulder to wake me up. When I opened

my eyes, the car window was filled entirely with the seascape. The
sea breeze felt chilly, probably because I was only half awake. I
wrapped myself with both arms and got out of the car. The others,
already far out on the beach where the waves broke against the
shore, waved at me. Beyond them was the sea, and above the sea
was the sun. The entire scene looked like a still frame.

The wind picked up and filled this still frame with raging sand
just as I raised my hand to wave back. The gritty dust rose from the
ground and swirled about. The others turned around all at once,
covering their faces to ward off grainy wind. I did the same, shutting
my eyes tightly, bending my head, and covering my face with my
arm. We stood in this position amidst the sounds of lapping waves
and whistling wind for a long time.

I tried to open my eyes, but they stung from the sand. "Don't
rub them. It'll just make it worse." Upon hearing Hoseok, I slowly
blinked. The sea, the sky, and the others kept appearing and
disappearing through the tears welling up in my eyes. After I blinked
several times, tears streamed down, and the stinging subsided. The
tears must've flushed the grains of sand out. I heard the others
laughing. They were, . laughing at me standing in the middle of the
empty beach shedding tears.
 It was unclear who began to run first. It started out as a silly
game. I pretended to chase the others who kept making fun of me.

Hoseok darted off as if he was fleeing from me. Then, the rest joined
in, running towards and away from one another and laughing
joyfully. At some point, we were all running along the coastal road.
I ran behind the others. I was out of breath, sweaty, and had a
splitting headache. But I didn't stop because they continued on.

We'd all met again, sprung Jimin from the hospital, and
returned to this same beach. It was all unplanned. All I'd done was
tag along, but it felt exhilarating. Maybe running around blankly
was the only way for me to deal with that fearfully thrilling
sensation. I'd done the same when we all ditched school and came
to this beach for the first time.

“That's right. We were like this back then, too." Namjoon said
when we dropped down on the beach to catch our breath. "I think
it was just as hot then. When was it?" It was Jimin. "It was June 12."
My good memory took everyone by surprise. I remembered it
exactly because the photo we had taken on this beach was marked
with the date. I sometimes took it out and stared at it. I didn't tell
anyone, but I felt on that long-ago day that I had finally found a real
family. Real brothers.

"Guys-” I began to express my gratitude but found myself at a

loss for words. "What?" The others rushed me one by one and then
flung themselves at me. We rolled around on the beach tangled up
together, playing like children.

"Why are you here alone?" I sank down next to Taehyung who
was sitting in one corner of the sandy beach away from the others.
He looked at me briefly and asked a question instead. "Was that
there the last time we came here?" He was talking about the
observatory. "If it was, we would've climbed it. But I don't
remember it." He nodded in agreement. He kept staring at the
observatory.

"Let's go." Someone tapped my shoulder. It was Seokjin. His

face unrecognizable as he was standing against the light. It might've
been because I was looking up at him from a sitting position, but he
looked so tall. I stood up, dusting off the sand. My feet sank deep
into the burning sand. I sneaked into Seokjin's shadow and walked
on, kicking sand with the tips of my sneakers. The sand I kicked up
splattered onto Seokjin's pants, but he didn't look back.

Taehyung
22 May YEAR 22

I had seen this all before. In a dream that felt too vivid and real,
I saw this sea, the seven of us, and the towering observatory. I stood
on the observatory at the end of the dream. Everyone looked up at
me. They were far away, so their faces were hard to see. Still, I
smiled at them. As if I was bidding them farewell. And then I
jumped. [NOTE: his dreams are past timelines that Jin restarted. He
DID jump before - see 'Prologue'.]

“Seokjin?" Hearing Jungkook, I turned my head to see Seokjin

climbing the observatory. At the very top, he turned his body
towards us. He seemed to be trying to photograph us. The others
waved at him, but I couldn't. It was like the last scene in my dream.
The only difference was that Seokjin was up there instead of me.
[NOTE: this is the ending scene from 'Euphoria'.]
 At that moment, it felt as if the ground sank under my feet and
my body floated in the air. I shut my eyes tightly, fearing my body
might plummet to the ground. I didn't clench my fist, but the wound
on my palm began to hurt. The wound seemed deep but healed
more quickly than I expected. It left a red scar. Sometimes it hurt
intensely. Like I was being punished. Punished for all my
wrongdoings. It hurt now.

Namjoon
22 May YEAR 22

“We’re only a year apart. No, apparently someone said so. I’m
the hyung, of course. I know. But they can’t be a young kid forever.
Isn’t it time that they deal with it alone? Fine. I said it’s fine. No, I’m
not getting angry. I apologise.”

Hanging up the phone, I looked down at the floor. The

lukewarm sea breeze shook the pine forest as it passed by. I felt like
my heart was going to burst. On the ground, half dirt rather than
sand, ants lined up to head in some direction. If someone had the
ability to understand me, both in the material and symbolic sense,
would they be able to see where I was going – and why?

It’s not that I didn’t love my parents. It’s not that I wasn’t
worried for my younger siblings. If I could, I’d ignore them, but
because I can’t be anything other than myself, I definitely couldn’t
do that. So if that’s the case, what was the point in struggling like
this anyway – getting angry, frustrated, and wanting to leave?

I saw the back of someone in the distance, standing as if holding

a grudge, much like myself. It was Jungkook. There was a time
Jungkook had said this: “I want to become an adult like you, hyung.”

Back then, I could not respond. That I’m not such a good adult – no,
that I’m not even an adult. Back then, it felt like that would be too
cruel to say. I had to acknowledge his trust and interest somewhat;
I could not tell such a young friend who had not received affection
that just because one grows older, taller, and lives a bit more, it did
not mean they became an adult. I had wished that Jungkook’s
future would be a bit kinder than mine, but I wasn’t able to promise
that I would help his growth. Approaching him, I put my arm around
his shoulder. Jungkook raised his eyes and looked at me.
[NOTE: Namjoon was talking about his little brother here, however
Tae overhears and thinks it's about him.. * see next note *]

Taehyung
22 May YEAR 22

I was walking through the pine forest when I saw hyung taking
the call, lagging behind. It happened a lot lately. He would make the
call somewhere far away so others wouldn’t be able to listen. I
purposely slowed down my pace and hid myself towards the sea.
Hyung didn’t see my and walked straight past.

“He’s only a year younger than me.. I don’t care. It’s not
something I can take responsibility for anyway. Please take care of
it yourself.”

Something cold ran down my spine. Like the whole world had
just collapsed, like I was floating in the middle of the deep sea
alone. I was scared, terrified. I was miserable and pathetic. I was
angry. Angry and couldn’t stand it. I wanted to do something bad,
anything. I was always scared. Dad’s blood was flowing inside me.
Who knows, maybe I inherited his violence gene. It felt like from
inside the shield I had wrapped up so tightly, something was
piercing through to come out.

Seokjin
22 May YEAR 22

I looked at the others again. They were making silly jokes,

laughing. chatting. and roaring with laughter again when someone
sprang up and started dancing. I couldn't believe what was
unfolding before my eyes. We got here together after so many trials
and errors. I'd dreamed of this for so long and so desperately that
it seemed impossible it was actually happening.

But I felt uneasy because I still had something to confess. I kept

hesitating and couldn't muster up the courage. But I couldn't run
away from it all anymore. Unless I told them. I wouldn't be able to
look at my friends in the face.
 Then dinner was almost over, I told them I had some-thing to
say. But they didn't pay much attention. Only Taehyung was staring
at me. Several days ago, he came to me and asked me about the
dream he'd been having. "You know what it means, right?" He
pressed me for an answer, but I acted like I didn't know. I said, "How
could I know? It was just a dream." Taehyung got upset and turned
away.

It wasn't completely a lie. I didn't know why Taehyung had been

having such a dream. But I did know how brutal it was. That's why I
couldn't tell him the truth. All the more so because I knew what he
was wondering about. He didn’t need to that it wasn't a dream, him
killing his father - it happened in real life, repetitively. No one
should go through life with such agony. I wouldn't take my decision
back even if it hurt our friendship.

I turned my head away to avoid Taehyung's eyes. I closed my

mouth, caught my breath, and spoke more clearly this time. "I have
something to tell you." Namjoon and Hoseok stared at me, and the
others also quieted down. "I should've told you this a long time ago.
When we were in high school…”
 Taehyung interrupted. "When we were in high school? When
you ratted on us to the principal? Or when Yoongi got kicked out of
school because of that? Which one are you talking about?” Criticism
was plainly written on Taehyung's face.

"Taehyung!" Namjoon called him in an obvious attempt to hold

him back. Taehyung shook Namjoon's hand off with his eyes solidly
fixed on me. "That was all your doing." No one said anything.
Everyone was caught off guard and couldn't think of anything to
say. I looked at Yoongi. Taehyung was right. Yoongi was expelled
from school because of me. I mumbled with my head bent low. "I'm
sorry." Taehyung began to speak again.

Taehyung
22 May YEAR 22

“Hyung, is that all? Isn't there something else you are hiding from
us?” [NOTE: this phrase is at the VERY end of 'Euphoria.']

The surroundings got quiet at once. Everyone's eyes turned on

me. I looked straight at Seokjin's eyes. Hyung looked at me. From
the stare showed a little bit of tiredness, annoyance, and shame
mixed together. I tried to ask again, but someone stopped me by
grabbing my arm. I didn't turn around but I knew who it was. It was
Namjoon.

“What does it have to do with you hyung? You are not even my
real brother.” I felt Namjoon's stare. Even without turning my head
I shook off hyung's hand. I knew. I knew that I was getting mad at
hyung for unnecessary reasons. That it was my way of saying I was
showing my anger by repeating the same message he delivered to
someone on the call. There was nothing wrong about what he said.
I was only a year younger than hyung. I wasn't even his real brother.
He was right that I had to do my things by myself. But I was sad. I
was more mad that I couldn't say anything back. I wanted him to
know how I feel.

“Taehyung, I'm sorry. Let's stop talking about this issue here.”
Seokjin was the one who broke the silence. The person who called
my name and the person who said sorry was all Seokjin. Namjoon
didn't say a word. “What do you mean stop? Tell us everything
while we are on the topic. Hyung, you have something you are
hiding from us.”

“Let's talk about this outside.” Namjoon spoke as he grabbed

my arm again. I tried to let go of his hand but this time held my arm
tightly and tried to pull me outside. I tried to resist. “Let go of me.
What gave you the right to stop me? What do you know? You don't
know anything! Hyung you think you are something great don't
you?” It was that moment. He let go of my arm. From that I
stumbled from the reflex. No, I didn't stumble because of the reflex.

The moment hyung let go of my arm it felt like the mid ring broke.
It felt like everything I relied on started to crack and crumble down.
Maybe I didn't want hyung to let go of my arms, lest drag me out
while getting mad at me. Like you would do for a real brother,
because it's a person who is so important that you can't let go. I
wished that he’d scold me more.

But he let go of my arm. It just made me laugh. What's so

important about being together? What are we to each other? In the
end we are all alone. That was when Seokjin hit me.
[NOTE: Fight scene between Tae and Jin in 'Blood, Sweat & Tears -
JPN Vers.']

Jimin
22 May YEAR 22

"We should go, too." That's what Hoseok said. I turned my head,
looking past the door of our lodging. The table, chairs, pots, and
dishes were scattered all over the place. limn, come on? I closed the
door hurriedly. They were way ahead of me. Yoongi and Hoseok
took the lead, with Jungkook following closely behind them. There
were seven of us when we first came, and now only four were left.

I looked up as we passed the observatory. There was no light on

the beach after the sunset. The observatory and sea withdrew into
the darkness, and nothing was visible. There was only the roar of
lapping waves. I realized that this was the place. The place we
visited when we first came to the sea together. The rock, which was
said to make dreams come true. We cried out at the top of our lungs
on this same spot where the rock had been blown to bits to make
way for a new resort. "Jungkook, wasn't it somewhere around
here?" I looked back, but Jungkook was already bolting way ahead
of the others. Hoseok called after him, but he didn't seem to hear.
It occurred to me then. Jungkook is also moving forward along his
own path. Jungkook had always been behind the others. He had
tagged along and stopped when the others stopped. I was the
same. I looked in every direction at an intersection. I had to turn left
to get to the train station or turn right to take the bus home.

I had to go back home someday. I couldn't avoid it forever. I had

to confess my lies and tell the truth to my parents. Even if they
weren't willing to hear them. I had to start fastening the first button
at some point. I saw Yoongi step into the road on the left. "Jimin,
hurry up." Hoseok turned his head towards me. "Hoseok, I'm going
home now." With a puzzled look, he asked, "Home?" I nodded.
Then, I turned right.

Jungkook
22 May YEAR 22

I thought my body was in the air but in no time I was on the

floor. I couldn’t feel anything for a while. My whole body just felt so
heavy I couldn’t even lift my eyelids. I couldn’t swallow my saliva,
and I couldn’t breathe. As my consciousness scattered, the
surroundings became dimmer.

Then suddenly as if I was startled by something, my whole body

jolted spasmodically. Somewhere between pain and thirst, I can’t
identify, I opened my eyes before I knew it. Over my prickly sight
like it’s full of sand, something glimmered. I thought it was light, but
it was not. It was bright, big, and dim. It wasn’t moving, and it was
floating in the air. As I was looking for a while, it began to have a
clear shape. It was the moon.

Maybe because my head was tilted backwards, the world was

upside-down. The moon was hung upside-down in that world. I
tried to cough so I could breath, but I couldn’t move. And then the
coldness came to me. I was scared. I moved my lips, but nothing
came out as words. My vision started to get darker and darker even
though I didn’t even close my eyes. As I was losing my
consciousness, someone talked to me. “To live will be more painful
than to die, do you still want to live?”
[NOTE: Jungkook's car accident as seen in 'I Need U' M/V.]
Hoseok
28 May YEAR 22

After coming back from the trip to the sea we didn't contact
each other much. There was no specific reason. Seokjin and
Taehyung looked like they had an argument, Jungkook went on a
different way, but that wasn't the reason we were estranged. Then
what was the reason? That didn't make me contact them first.
There was no special reason. Maybe that was the reason.

Looking back at that day reminded me of the sandy wind that

always suddenly blew. Seokjin went up the observation tower,
Taehyung followed up, we all looked up at the observation tower
with our hands covering the sun. With the feeling that this had
happened before like deja vu, a strange worry creeped up. “Hyung,
the sea we came before. The one with the rock that grants wishes.
Doesn't seem like it's here?” With Jimin's question I had a quick look
around. Then, I think it was right after that. Taehyung and Seokjin
wobbled like they were about to fall off the tower and wind of sand
blew. I covered toy face with my two arms and closed my eyes. I
was scared and worried about what could have happened on top of
the tower but due to the gush of sand wind I couldn't dare to open
toy eyes.

After the wind has calmed down and raised toy head, I caught
Seokjin coming down from the tower. On top of the tower
Taehyung looked down at the scene with his head down. Seokjin
started the car right after coming down from the tower and took
off. I walked towards it but there wasn't anything I can do anymore.

That night we all came back to Songjoo. As Seokjin went back

we had no place to spend the night nor a ride to go back home. The
first one to say let's go back was Namjoon. Everyone looked
disappointed but moved. Maybe we had all hoped that Namjoon
would tell us let's continue this trip somehow. However, Namjoon
suggested going back and our trip ended. The anticipated sea trip I
had looked forward to had become a disaster.
Jimin
29 May YEAR 22

On top of the desk a thin ray of light hit. It was a light that was
able to come in through the window that has the academy's name
written on it. At the front of the lecture hall, the instructor was
talking with mic in their hand but nothing seemed to go through my
ears. I sat on far back in the corner of the class with my head down.
I fumbled with my fingers trying to catch the light that is escaping
between my fingers.

Just because I was able to come out from the hospital didn't
mean that something was solved. Actually it felt like I went back a
few steps from the starting point. That was why I was forcefully
entered into this academy when mom said what was I going to do
without a high school diploma. Wouldn't I need to at least attend a
GED academy? I didn't have anything to say. At this moment, I
didn't have anything I wanted to do nor did I have something I could
do.

The whole time I was heading to the academy my heart

clenched. Not only going back to studies burdened me but also I
was afraid to be with strangers. What do I do if someone recognizes
me? How do I reply if they ask why I couldn't graduate high school?
The memories of high school time I pushed back frighteningly came
back.

Seokjin
30 May YEAR 22

There was only one given hint. Map of the Soul. What that was,
what I had to do with it, a very unfamiliar phrase? That, I can't even
guess. Even so at that time I needed a starting point to do
something and I hoped that the "Map of the Soul' could do that.

However it wasn't. After going through various loops, I investigated

about "Map of the Soul" but nothing caught my hand. Looking back,
I think it was the same situation when all this started. When
nodding at the question "You think you can save everyone fixing all
the mistakes and problems?" I didn't know a bit of what I was going
to go through. I exit out the old bookstore that had a lot of dust
covered books. As I walked up the stairs and exit out of the alley
cherry blossom was falling. I turned around as I felt like I had came
here before. The bookstore entrance located underground was so
dark not even the sign was very visible. Did I confuse with another
bookstore? To find hints about "Map of the Soul" I went to various
old bookstores and libraries. It goes without saying all the
informations and keywords I looked through in the internet. While
doing that I might have been here. Or it could be just a similar
bookstore. I headed to the car I had parked at the corner of the
alley. I started the car and put my hands on the wheel but I didn't
know where to head to.

Hoseok
31 May YEAR 22

Breath suddenly stifled, I avoided the gazes instinctively. My

breath was shaking after dancing for a while, but it wasn’t the
cause. I was struck with a thought of how they looked like my
mother. No, it wasn’t a thought, wasn’t a recognition, nor was it
something I could explain or describe. I couldn’t look straight at the
face of the friend whom I had known for more than ten years. We
learned dancing together, failed together, fell into despair and
cheered up together. We lied down on the floor covered in sweat,
throwing towels and joking around. As if touched by a sensation I
had never felt before, I scrambled to my feet. As soon as I turned
around the corner, I leaned against the wall and stood there. I tried
to calm down my unsettled breathe, but there came a sound saying
“Where are you going, Hoseok-ah.” A voice, maybe it was a voice.
A voice calling “Hoseok-ah.” A voice that I can’t even recall well
now, that goes back to when I was seven years old.

Seokjin
13 June YEAR 22

After returning from that sea, we were all alone.

We did not keep in touch as if we had planned not to. We merely
assumed our existence by the graffiti left on the street, the brightly
lit petrol station, and the piano sound from the old building. This
was when the afterimage of that night came alive like a vision.
Taehyung’s eyes looked as if they breathe fire, the way their eyes
watched me as if they had heard something unbelievable.
Namjoon’s hand that tried to stop Taehyung, and I who couldn’t
suppress and threw a punch at Taehyung.
Failing to find Taehyung who ran out, I returned to the dorm near
the beach and no one was there. Only broken glass cups, blood
stains which began to dry up, cookie crumbs which brought me back
to what had happened a few hours ago. There was a photo lying in
the midst of this. In the photo, we stood smiling while we posed
with the sea as our background.

Even today, I just walked past the front of the petrol station. The
day when we meet again will come. Someday we will smile together
just like the photo. The day when I have the courage to face myself
entirely will come. However, right now, this very moment is not the
right time. Even today, the damp wind blows like that day. And the
next moment, the mobile phone rang like a warning. The photos I
hung on the room mirror began to shake. I see Hoseok’s name on
the screen.

“Hyung, Jungkook had a car accident that night.”

Jungkook
13 June YEAR 22

I heard faint voices and opened my eyes to find Hoseok and

Jimin gazing at me. Every time I blinked, their faces kept
disappearing and appearing again. "Are you hurt? Are you in pain?”
Jimin asked. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt." It was a lie. It was a serious
accident and I almost died. The doctors kept warning the others for
days that they should be prepared for the worst-case scenario. I
regained consciousness after ten days and began to recuperate at
an astonishing rate.

“You should've called us. What are we to you?" Hoseok sounded

mad. “Hoseok, it's not that I…” I began to talk but couldn't finish the
sentence. As soon as I came to myself at the hospital, I thought of
them. If I would've been able to think straight, I would've called
them first. But my mind was blank, and I was in pain. The sedative
they gave me was so strong that reality, dreams, memories, and
illusions all seemed to be knotted up in my head and were
impossible to disentangle.
 The unbearable pain finally subsided. But the strange images
that flashed before my eyes while suffering from fever and
insomnia kept coming back. I wasn't sure whether those scenes had
actually happened or they were just twisted nightmares triggered
by severe pain. I couldn't trust my memory. But I still couldn't
contact them. I didn't know what to say or even how to start talking.
I just smiled at them. Or I tried to smile at them. My face must've
looked like it was all twisted up and I was about to cry.

Hoseok
13 June YEAR 22

I walked out of the room because I felt tears welling up.

Jungkook saying he was fine was heart-wrenching. I had just heard
of Jungkook's accident that afternoon. The burger joint was packed
with pedestrians taking shelter from the rain. Some of them were
Jungkook's classmates. "How come Jungkook doesn't show up
anymore?" I didn't ask this question for any particular reason. I'd
lost contact with all the others after returning from the sea,
including Jungkook. Then, an unexpected answer came my way.
"Oh, he was in an accident, so he's been absent." "An accident? Is
he hurt badly?" "We don't know. He hasn't been to school for what,
twenty days?"

I called him immediately, but Jungkook didn't answer. I was

about to call again but decided to open our group chat instead. No
new messages over the past twenty days. The last message was
from when we were at the sea. Was it then? That night when we all
parted and went back home. Was it that night?

I left a message that Jungkook was badly hurt. And that,

whatever everyone was up to, it was ridiculous not to know what
had happened to him for over twenty days. The number next to my
message didn't budge, meaning none of the others opened the chat
to read my message. Did our days together mean nothing? Were
"we" fair-weather friends? I got mad at myself. Mad for not
contacting him earlier. Mad for letting him return home alone.
Jungkook was not a child. But he was the youngest. He was still just
a student.
 I strolled up and down the hallway a few times and stopped in
front of his room. Through the cracked door, I recognized
Jungkook's face. He clearly wasn't fine. He looked as pale as a sheet.
Suddenly, the image of Jungkook coming through the door of our
empty hideout came into my mind. He was just in his third year of
high school. His naive face showed a sense of loss, as if he'd realized
something had come to an end. Did our existence remind him of
that sense of loss? Four of the others hadn't checked my message
the group chat yet. I posted another message. "This is
disappointing."

"You? Dancing?" When I stepped into the room, Jimin and

Jungkook were talking about a dance crew. Jimin said it had only
been about two weeks since he joined the crew and turned his head
bashfully. "That's right. You were a good dancer. We should all go
and see you dance."

Taehyung's call came through at that moment. "What have you

been doing? Why didn't you check my message earlier?” I tried to
sound angrier than I actually was. Taehyung stuttered in a croaky
voice as if he'd been crying.
Taehyung
13 June YEAR 22

“How's Jungkook?" That's all I could say. I wrapped up my shift

at the convenience store and stepped onto the street to find
puddles here and there. It had rained a few hours ago. I'd noticed
the rain when I turned my head to look out the glass door when one
of the customers bought an umbrella. My face was reflected back
to me in the puddle. My eyes filled with tears and my throat was
choked.

Hoseok said he was with Jungkook and Jungkook looked better

than he thought. I dropped down. "I'm OK." Hoseok must've
handed his phone over to Jungkook. He seemed to be pretending
that he was OK. "How about you?" “Worry about yourself" My reply
was curt without meaning to be. Jungkook laughed bashfully. "I'm
going over there right now."

I couldn't keep my word. I got to the hospital in no time, ran up

the stairs because I couldn't wait for the elevator, and darted down
the hallway. I was just about to jump into Jungkook's room, but I
froze there. I could hear voices through the cracked door. It was
Namjoon. Seokjin was there, too. I stepped back without realizing
it.

"I'm always the same." Namjoon said. Indeed, he was. He was

just going on with his life. I dropped down on a bench in the hallway.
People in patient uniforms walked by, and some were in tears. If
someone asked, I must've answered the same. That I was always
the same. That was the truth. I just went back and forth between
my house and the convenience store. Dad was still drinking and
making trouble from time to time. The indoor light was still dim and
the drain got clogged frequently.

There was one change. The nightmare had stopped. The

nightmare of Yoongi dying, Jungkook falling, and Hoseok in a frenzy
of despair. Come to think of it, the nightmare must've stopped after
the night we fought at the beach. It was replaced by another dream.
Tears ran down Seokjin's face. Blue flower petals rolled on the
asphalt street at night. They were trampled down, and were tinted
with someone's blood.
 I bent my steps. The elevator was coming up from the second
basement floor. I looked back at the patient room. wasn't ready to
meet Seokjin and Namjoon yet.
[NOTE: Tae's dreams went from foreshadowing the hyyh events to
the highlight reels. this scene ties to the part in 'Highlight Reels
起承轉結' where the girl Jin met gets hit by a car.]

Namjoon
13 June YEAR 22

I arrived at Jungkook's hospital room in the middle of the night.

Jungkook seemed OK. He laughed a lot and talked a lot. I did, too.
We talked about the gas station, the weather, and whatever else so
we didn't have to talk about what was really important. Jungkook
should've asked. But he didn't. He didn't ask why the others fought
that night, why we left, and why we didn't come back. I was no
different. I didn't tell him why I left our lodging without saying
anything and didn't ask Seokjin what problems he had with
Taehyung. We just swallowed the questions that we should've
blurted out. On our way back, Seokjin asked me if I was OK. "Do you
know you haven't said a word yet?" I told him I didn't know and I
was sorry. I told him I was fine. We parted near the gas station.

I looked around the night street just before I went into the gas
station. It was desolate. The red "Do Not Walk" signal turned to the
green "Walk" signal at the crosswalk. I crossed the street and
walked along the railroad. The fourth container from the end. We
had a campfire here before we left for the sea. This was the first
time I came here since that day.

Dust rose when I opened the container door. I stood there for a
while until my eyes got used to the darkness. From what I'd heard
from Jungkook, the others didn't keep in touch with each other. No
one updated me about Taehyung, but nothing much would've
changed. This container was the only place where Taehyung could
have taken shelter from his dad. I knew it but didn't drop by. It was
exhausting enough to go back and forth between the library and
gas station. It was the truth and an excuse at the same time. Deep
down inside, I might have been avoiding Taehyung. I couldn't afford
to confront Taehyung, it was too emotionally exhausting.
 As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see different
corners of the container. They were filled with memories of us
sharing our lives together. I told Seokjin that I was OK, but really I
wasn't. Jungkook who got into an accident couldn't be OK. It
couldn't be OK to just drown what happened that night all at once.
If Taehyung and Seokjin hadn't got into a fight that night, if I'd
stayed with the others, if anyone had been with Jungkook, then
there wouldn't have been an accident.

But I said I was OK. I casually chatted with him as if none of it

was my fault and tapped him on his shoulder, telling him to recover
quickly. I said it like it was a word of blessing or advice or
consolation. I hadn't changed a bit. I was always hesitant before
asking questions and making choices at a fork in the road.

Yoongi
15 June YEAR 22

The clanking, ringing noise in my head of music was the only

thing I could recognise. How much I’d drunk, where this was, what
I was doing. Didn’t want to know, not even important. I saw it was
night as I stumbled outside. I swayed. Whether it was a passerby,
kiosk or wall, I just crashed into it however. It didn’t matter. I just
wanted to forget everything.

Jimin’s voice was still clear. “Hyung. Jungkook-” The next

memory was of running crazily up the hospital stairs. The hospital
corridor was long and dark, to the point of strangeness. People in
hospital gowns passed me. My heart was racing. Everybody’s faces
were too pale. They didn’t even have any expression. They were like
dead people. In my head, the sound of my breath shook me
raggedly.

Past a hospital door left ajar, Jungkook was lying down. I didn’t even
realise that I swivelled my head back. I couldn’t look. At that
moment, suddenly, the sound of a piano, a fire, a building crashing
down could be heard. I wrapped my head in my arms and slid to the
ground. It said it was because of me. It said if only I didn’t exist. The
voice of my mom – no, my own voice – no, someone else’s voice.

With those words, I was pained for a long time. I wanted to believe
it wasn’t so. But Jungkook was lying there. In a corridor where
patients were going to and fro as if dead, Jungkook was lying there.
I truly could not enter. I could not check. As I stood, my legs swayed.
As I went back, tears formed. It was a funny thing. I didn’t
remember the last time I’d cried.

As I was trying to cross the road, I turned around, for someone

grabbed onto my arm. Who was it? No, it didn’t matter. Whoever it
was, it’d be the same. Don’t come near. Go. Please just leave me
alone. I don’t want to hurt you too. I don’t want to get hurt. So
please don’t come closer.
[NOTE: this phrase is written on Yoongi's 'Highlight Reel' poster.]

Yoongi
15 June YEAR 22

I woke up from a weird dream. I thought I heard someone knock

on the door, but I couldn't hear anything after getting up. I must've
heard it in my dream. "What time is it?" I picked up my phone, but
the battery was dead. I connected my phone to the charger and got
out of bed. My head ached and my shoulders felt stiff. The piece I'd
worked on until dawn was replaying again and again. I'd been
staying up all night for several days, but I still couldn't find the key
to unravel the tangled notes.

Maybe it was because of that piece replaying over and over

again, but in my dream, I was roaming around in the fog following
a faint whistling sound. After a long time, I arrived at a garden of an
apartment complex. There I found a piano key lying among thick
bushes. The half-burned piano key was covered with soil and rotten
leaves. I walked into the garden and reached out for the key. Just
as I'd almost grasped it, the apartment complex, the fog, and the
whistling sound all disappeared at once. The next minute, I was
standing in the middle of this workroom. In the distance, I was
sitting in front of the piano with Jungkook. Jungkook said
something, and I laughed. [NOTE: scene from 'Highlight Reel 承'.]

When was this? I couldn't recall the exact date, but this scene was
imprinted on my memory as clear as day. There were many days I
could clearly see the scene. All of a sudden, it became dark outside,
and I was wandering through the night street. I was on my way back
from the beach. I put my hands into my pockets as I talked about
my work to Hoseok, and I felt the piano key with my fingertips. The
dream continued on in this disjointed manner. Moments
overlapped with one another and fragments of memories piled up
in a mess.

I heard a banging sound at the entrance just as I turned off the

music. Who could that be? I opened the door but no one was there.
I drank a cup of water and lay down on the sofa. The past few weeks
had been a hectic merry-go-round. Everything just couldn't go
smooth when composing music. It was hard to concentrate at first.
And I was also not used to working with a partner.

The woman was straightforward and outspoken. She popped in

and out of my workroom whenever she felt like it. She never
hesitated or beat around the bush when she evaluated my work.
She took away my lighter when I tried to smoke and threw me a
lollipop instead. [NOTE: this is the girl from 'Highlight Reel 起'. she's
a musician who works with Yoongi to make extra cash.] She nagged
me to sleep and eat. I couldn't argue with her because her
performance and pieces were impressive. Because her evaluation
was accurate.
 That provoked me. I began to spend more and more time at my
workroom. I lost my sense of time and became addicted to my
work. I would stay up all night once I got down to work. I didn't
answer calls or check my messages. All my nerves were on edge,
and I didn't want to talk with anY"fle' I switched off the alerts for
every chat app. Would I have aimed out as skilled and talented as
the woman if I hadn't wasted my time and continued training in
music? I wondered. I didn't want to fall behind her.

“This is really nice." That was what that woman said after
listening to the unfinished piece yesterday evening. It was an
upgraded version of what I'd previously written. “This is really nice."
It felt as if I'd heard the exact same words before. was trying to call
up the memory when she got her guitar out. Then, she began to
harmonize and play variations of the melody. I sat in front of the
piano and played along.

"Don't forget. We're meeting at the hospital tomorrow

morning." The woman packed her guitar and stood up about two
hours later. I looked up at her with a blank face, and she rolled her
eyes. Then, I remembered. She'd been giving free solo
performances at hospitals and schools. She'd told me last week to
tag along to the next performance. I hadn't answered, but she
finalized the plan on her own. She said she'd call early in the
morning and I should make sure to pick up the phone.

After she left, I sat in front of the piano again. It wasn't bad. But
it felt as if something substantial was missing. I distinctly
remembered that I'd almost grasped what it was the last time I
worked on this piece. I made changes, but nothing clicked. I stood
up from the piano bench, feeling pressure on my chest. Maybe I was
putting too much emphasis on that something because it didn't
come to me. Maybe it'd be better to fine-tune the piece a bit more
and stop waiting for that something. I looked out the window. The
sun was coming up.

My phone vibrated as it powered up. She hadn’t called yet. I lay

down on the sofa. My phone rang after a few minutes. The name
‘Jimin’ appeared on the screen. [NOTE: the phone call is from
'Highlight Reel 起承轉結'.] That instantly reminded me of a scene
from my dream last night. A house was aflame. Someone asked me
“Is there anyone inside?” I answered “No, there’s no one inside.”
The scene shifted and I was sitting in Mom's unlit room. Mom was
saying, “If I hadn’t had you... If you hadn't been born...."

I don't know how I got from my workroom to the hospital. I was

running up the stairs like crazy when I snapped out of it. The hallway
was strangely long and dark. People in patient uniforms slid by My
heart kept throbbing. Their faces were pale like sheets. And
expressionless. They seemed dead. I could hear my heavy breathing
in my head.

I could see Jungkook in his patient uniform lying on the bed

through the cracked door. He must be asleep, but he seemed as if
he were dead. [NOTE: Yoongi going to the hospital but not going
into Jungkook's room is portrayed in their 'Highlight Reel' poster.]
"He almost died. The doctors said it was a miracle he was alive. It
was that night, that night we came back from the beach." Jimin's
voice was still ringing in my ears.

I turned my head. I couldn't look at him anymore. A multitude

of images flashed before my eyes like a panorama. The flame that
made a crackling sound in a drum at a construction site, Mom's
room that had always been unlit, the sounds of the piano that came
from the fire, Jungkook's back as he clumsily played the piano at the
music shop, Jungkook lying unconscious on the empty street, and
the pain and fear he must've gone through as he lost
consciousness....

She said, "It's all because of you." She said, "If you hadn't been
born...." Mom's voice. Or was it mine? Or was it someone else's? I'd
been tormented my whole life because of those words. I wanted to
believe that they weren't true. But Jungkook was lying there. He
was lying in a hospital where patients roamed around like the living
dead. If I'd just ignored him and left the music shop, if I'd just died
in the flames, would none of this have happened?

At that moment, the melodies of the woman's guitar

penetrated my mind. The guitar sound overlapped the crackling
sound of the blazing fire, the sound of the piano, and countless
other sounds. I covered my head and ears with both arms, but the
sound of the guitar only grew louder. I turned and began to escape
down the hallway. I bumped into passersby, but I didn't have time
to turn around and apologize. They shouted curses at me. I didn't
look back. I had to run away from that voice and the hallucination.
My head ached. I’d lost all my confidence. I ran down the hallway,
faltering and staggering, and got out of the hospital.

Jungkook
15 June YEAR 22

A noise from outside the room aroused me from sleep. I was

having a strange dream but couldn't quite remember the details.
The night of the traffic accident replayed like a blurry CCTV screen
in black and white. I could feel my heartbeat slow down and then
quicken explosively. All of a sudden, pain surged. and someone was
whispering faintly. The next minute. I woke up writhing.

My entire body was soaked with sweat. The sunlight came

through the window and right onto my face. I stepped into the
hallway and was met by the usual scene. It was my first time to use
the crutches. I still needed to get used to them but they were much
easier than a wheelchair. I went through the entrance. It was
breezy. My sweat cooled quickly, and it felt chilly on the back of my
neck. It wasn't as warm as I thought inside my patient room.
 As I sat down on a bench and opened my sketchbook. the doctor
in charge came over to me. He said it was a miracle that I had
recovered, he hadn't thought it'd be possible. He tapped me on my
shoulder, saying I was the living proof of a miracle.

“You should be good for the rest of your life." I turned my head
and saw a girl standing there who I'd met yesterday the hallway.
The kid said it was so amazing to find a miracle right next to her and
asked me how I felt. I responded that I was just really healthy.

I lowered my eyes again to the sketchbook. [NOTE: from

'Highlight Reel 承'.] Before I knew it, I was drawing what I'd seen in
my dream. My memories were blurred like the CCTV screen. It was
hard to concentrate on my drawing or the memories because the
girl kept asking me questions. After a while, I looked up. A familiar
song was playing. Someone was giving a performance in the
distance. I definitely knew this song. Yoongi sometimes played this
in his workroom. I went over to the stage on my crutches. A lighter
marked Y.K. was hanging on the guitar. [NOTE: from 'Highlight Reel
承'.]
Taehyung
25 June YEAR 22

I slowed down on purpose and listened carefully to the small

sound of someone running behind me. [NOTE: scene from
'Highlight Reel 承'.] Today was the third time we ran into each other
at the convenience store. If there was any difference, it’s that they
ran away as soon as they saw me. They strolled around the empty
lot behind the convenience store and hid away right after I showed
up. They thought they were hiding well, but their shadow was
stretching out to the front of the empty lot. I giggled. I walked away
pretending I didn’t see anything, and they began to follow me.

I entered a narrow alley. This was the only place in this

neighborhood where the street lamps weren’t broken. The alley ran
long with the street lamp standing somewhere halfway. When the
source of the light is ahead, the shadow stretches behind. So right
now my shadow would cast behind me. Maybe it would even reach
the feet of the person who had been following me with bated
breath. I soon reached the street lamp and my shadow immediately
hid under my feet. I began to speed up my pace. Leaving the lamp
behind, now my shadow started to cast in front of me. Soon
enough, another shadow that wasn’t mine appeared on the dusty
cement road. As I stopped, the person stopped and stood there as
well. Two shadows of different heights standing still side by side.

I spoke. “I’m gonna wait until you come here.” The shadow
jumped as if surprised, and held its breath like it wasn’t there. “I can
see you.” I pointed at the shadow. Soon. the sound of footsteps
began to approach me, stamping on purpose. I laughed.

Namjoon
30 June YEAR 22

With somewhat a weird feeling, I looked at my hands pressing

the open button as if it had a will of its own. There were moments
like this. Moments that even though it was clearly the first time, I
feel like it had repeatedly happened countless of times. Right
before the elevator door closed, it opened again and people
crowded in. I spotted someone with hair tied up by a yellow rubber
band. It wasn’t because I know that person would be here that I
pressed the open button, but I felt like that person would definitely
be here. I slowly stepped further to the back. I lifted my head up as
my back pressing against the cold elevator wall, the yellow rubber
band coming into my view.

A person’s back speaks up many things. Among them, I can only

understand a few. Some I can vaguely guess and some are
ultimately left ungrasped. I was suddenly struck with the thought
that you can only say you know a person when you are able to read
everything from their back. If so, maybe there would also be
someone who can read me from my back. As I looked up, our eyes
met in the mirror. For a second, I avoided the gaze. When I looked
up, there was only my face in the mirror. My back was no longer
seen.

Jimin
3 July YEAR 22

Hoseok had been in a bad mood since he visited Jungkook. If

anyone could truly tie the seven of us together as ‘we’, Hoseok
could. He embraced and protected "us" like a shelter. But he wasn't
always as bright and cheerful on the inside as he tried to appear in
front of us. It was closer to a sense of responsibility. He instinctively
sensed the wounds and pain of those around him and couldn't bear
them well. This was why he pretended to be livelier than he actually
was by nature.

Even today, Hoseok just sat in one corner of the practice room
for a long time and left without saying a word. I joined ‘Just Dance’
and began to learn how to dance right after I returned from the sea.
Hoseok gave me the opportunity. I was awkward at meeting new
people as I'd spent too much time in the hospital. He brought a new
dance partner, too. She was a friend he'd met at the orphanage.

She was the only person who could make him laugh when he
was in that mood. When she murmured something while looking at
his phone together, he chuckled. "You laughed. You laughed." She
made fun of him. Hoseok turned his head away, telling her to stop
it. He chuckled again.

The practice room became silent in a flash after I turned off the
music. I just lay there on the floor. I liked dancing when I was little.
I danced a lot and often was praised for it. But the patient room
wasn't a good place for dancing. When I attended school in
between hospital stays, I just sank my head on my chest to avoid
the eyes of my classmates. After a while, my body felt so stiff. I
couldn't perform the motions that Hoseok did so easily. There was
nothing to do but keep practicing, even after everyone else had left.

I replayed the video of the dance moves I'd learned earlier on

my phone. Hoseok's moves were fluid but accurate in the video. I
knew that they were a product of years of practice and that it would
take a long time for a novice like me to reach that level. It was
wishful thinking. I could only keep sighing out loud. [NOTE: from
'Highlight Reels 承'. Jimin tapes Hobi and his orphan friend feeling
envious that he doesn't have as much skill, but is also envious that
he's not the one Hobi fully turns to during his 'moods'.]

I went to my parents' house" the day I left the beach alone. As I

looked up at the brightly lit windows, I couldn't help but think, "Has
this place ever been our house?" I pressed the bell at the front gate.
It took awhile for it to open. I took the elevator and got off at the
17th floor. Although the door was open, no one came out to greet
me.
 My parents were sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching
a black-and-white movie on TV. "I don't want to go back to the
hospital." I blurted out after some hesitation. "Don't worry. I won't
do anything rash. But I'm not going back there." "Where have you
been?" Mom asked. "With my friends." "Friends? Wash up and go
to bed. We'll take some time to think about what to do with you."
Dad cut in.

I bowed and went to my room down the hallway. As soon as the

door closed behind my hack, I collapsed. “We'll take some time to
think about what to do with you.” Dad’s voice rang in my head. I
tried to brace myself, but it wasn’t easy. I barely slept that night.
Instead, I made two resolutions. I'll discover what I'd like to commit
myself to. And prove that I'm good at it.

I picked myself up and stood in front of the mirror. I could

imitate the turns pretty well, but my feet kept getting twisted up. I
kept making mistakes. I was supposed to do steps with my new
dancing partner the next day, and I wanted to impress her. I wanted
to be recognized as an equal instead of hearing "not bad."
Jimin
3 July YEAR 22

I eventually lied down on the floor. After turning off the music,
everything around me became quiet, nothing heard save for the
sound of my breathing and the thundering of my heart. I pulled out
my phone and played the choreography video I learned by day.
Hyung’s movements in the videos were smooth and accurate. I
knew it was the result of countless hours, sweat and practice, and
it was greed to someone who didn’t have much like me. But
understanding and desiring were different, so I often sighed. I stood
up all of a sudden again. I could mimic his turns but my steps were
still messed up. I kept making mistakes at the part where we
changed position and match the formation. We decided to match it
tomorrow, but until then, I wanted to do it properly, one way or
another. Rather than a joking “Pretty good” compliment, I wanted
to be acknowledged as a real and equal partner like when I danced
with hyung.
[NOTE: Jimin videotapes and practices the moves of Hobi's dance
partner because he wants to prove he can be on their level and
dance with Hoseok.]

Jimin
4 July YEAR 22

When I came to my senses, I was washing my arm as if to scrape

the skin off. My hands were shaking and my breath was unsteady.
Blood ran down my arm. The eyes in the mirror were bloodshot.
The events that just occurred came back to me in fragments.

In a split second, my concentration shattered. I was paired with

a noona from my dance club for this dance, but our movements
became tangled and we bumped into each other. [NOTE: from
'Highlight Reel 轉'.] I fell to the rough ground and my arm started
to bleed. At that moment, the events that had occurred at the Grass
Flower Arboretum came back to me. It was something I thought I
had overcome. But it was not so. I had to run away. I had to cleanse
myself. I had to hide. The person in the mirror would always be the
eight year old child who ran through the rain. And then, it came to
me. Noona, too, had fallen.

Nobody was there in the practice room. Past the door left ajar,
the rain was pouring in violently. I could see Hoseok running. He
was getting drenched. I ran to him with an umbrella. [NOTE: from
'Highlight Reel 轉'.] I finally stopped in my tracks.

There was nothing I could do. All I could do was fall and get
someone hurt, and then get scared by being hurt myself and
forgetting them, and then running back too late and stopping. I
walked the other way. Every time I took a step, raindrops splashed
on my sneakers. Headlights of a car spun past. It was not okay. No,
it was okay. It did not hurt. This wasn’t even a wound. I really was
okay...

Hoseok
4 July YEAR 22

While they were applying emergency assistance, I came into the

corridor. Though it was night, quite a few people were still there,
pacing. There was water dripping from my hair, drenched in rain
and sweat. [NOTE: in 'Highlight Reel 轉' Hoseok carried the
concussed dancer to the hospital in the rain.] As I was shaking my
hair, I dropped the kid’s bag. Random things fell out. Coins rolled
away, as pens and towels scattered too. And in the midst of it, there
was an airplane e-ticket. Taking hold of it, I scanned the
information.

Then, the doctor called for me. He said I did not have to worry
for it was a light concussion, and after a moment, the kid came out.
“You okay?” She said her head hurt a little as she took her bag to
carry it. With that movement, she saw the e-ticket peeping out, and
turned to look at my face. I switched shoulders to carry the bag and
pretending nothing was wrong, I pressed on. As we came to the
entrance, the rain continued to fall. We stood side by side at the
door.

“Hoseok.” The kid called out to me. She had the expression of
someone who had something to say. “Wait a moment. I’ll buy an
umbrella.” I just ran into the rain without a thought. There was a
corner store over there. I had known that recently, that kid had
auditioned for an international dance team. That she had ordered
a plane ticket would mean that they had been accepted. I did not
want to hear what she had to say. I did not have the confidence to
congratulate her.

Hoseok
7 July YEAR 22

My ankle didn't heal well. I had a small accident a few days ago.
Now I can say that it was "small," but it was serious at the time.
Jimin and that girl ran into each other while practicing a dance move
and they both fell hard. I carried the girl on my back and ran to the
hospital. It wasn't far, but it was raining. She was unconscious.

While she got treated, I paced up and down the hallway. It was
late at night, but the hallway in front of the emergency room was
full of people drinking coffee from the vending machine or looking
at their phones. Rain and sweat dripped from my hair. I shook my
hair with one hand, sitting down on a bench in one corner, and
dropped her bag by mistake. Coins rolled around on the floor, and
ballpoint pens and a handkerchief were scattered all over. There
was also a plane ticket. I knew that she'd applied for an audition for
an international dance team. The ticket must've meant that she
won the spot.

At that moment, the doctor called me up. I put the ticket back
in her bag and walked towards the doctor. He said that the girl had
hit her head and had a concussion and that I didn't need to worry
too much. It was still raining outside. I stood by the entrance with
her. "Hoseok." The girl called me. She seemed as if she had
something to say. "Wait here. I'll go buy an umbrella." I ran out into
the pouring rain. A convenience store came into view. I didn't want
to hear what she was going to say. I wasn't sure if I could
congratulate her.

Jimin was anxiously waiting for me back in the practice room. I

told him that the girl was OK, but Jimin looked dejected and bent
his head low. The next morning, my ankle was swollen. I'd tripped
slightly the night before while carrying her on my back. It was
raining, and I was running. I didn't even fall. My foot slipped just a
little. I put on pain relief patch and tried to walk more carefully. I
thought it'd be OK. It didn't swell up that much at first. But it got
worse and worse. I had to stay on my feet all day at the burger joint.
And I couldn't skip dance practice.

Taehyung
10 July YEAR 22

I darted down the sloping roads and through narrow back alleys.
I'd lived in this neighborhood for about twenty years. I knew every
nook and cranny. Every corner brought back stories and memories.
But this wasn't the time for reminiscing. The police were chasing
me. I couldn't afford to get lost in memories. But as I turned one
corner after another, as I jumped one fence after another, it felt as
if time was winding backwards.

I spray-painted graffiti at the bus stop for the first time in a long
time. I picked up the spray cans again because of one girl. I ran into
her while she was trying to steal food from a convenience store a
few days ago. [NOTE: from 'Highlight Reel 起'] She couldn't bring
herself to look down at her empty hands. She was obviously scared
of her empty hands. I didn't want to admit that I knew exactly how
she felt. You have to look squarely into your own empty hands. No
one can do it for you. But I couldn't turn my head away from her. I
recognized the look on her face. The look when you feel like you
don't belong anywhere in the world. When you're afraid you are
responsible or everything that went wrong in your life. When you
are lonely and don't know where to go or stay.

I saw that girl from time to time after that day. We didn't do
anything special together. We just sat on the street or walked along
the railroad. Then we did some graffiti together. She seemed to feel
awkward holding a spray can for the first time but did her best to
follow what I did. Finally, we came to the bus stop. Namjoon got off
at this bus stop. The police also frequently showed up here. I once
got caught spraying graffiti here. The girl tried to read my face as I
stood still with a spray can in my hand.

I hadn't been in touch with Namjoon since I saw him at the

hospital. But I did pass by his container by the railroad one night
several days ago. I was out in the street to get away from Dad and
his drunken temper. I just blindly ran out, wandered around
aimlessly, and saw the light on at the container. Someone was in
there. It must've been Namjoon. I wanted to go in. But I couldn't. I
got closer and could hear a faint melody and snoring sound. I sat on
the ground in front of the container and looked up at the sky. It was
literally pitch black without any hint of stars.

The police were gaining on me fast. I was hiding in an alley with

a dead end. There was no way out. It was meant to be. Even if I
stopped reminiscing and concentrated on getting away, I'd get
caught anyway. It was the expected outcome. No problem could be
solved with empty fists. I walked out of the alley and put both my
arms up. I surrendered.
[NOTE: from 'Highlight Reel 轉'.]

Namjoon
13 July YEAR 22

I packed my bag and got out of the library. It's been over a
month since I started working night shifts at the gas station. And I
went to the library during the day. I was beat after coming home
from working all night. But I didn't just sit around after the alarm
went off. It's not that I'd accomplished anything over the past
month. I just stared out the window or skimmed through magazines
in a daze.

It wasn't like I wasn't feeling impatient. I knew I had to go at my

own pace. But it wasn't as easy as I thought. What were all these
people doing here in the library? Would I be able to catch up with
them? But I didn't know where to start or what to hold onto.

Namjoon
13 July YEAR 22

Several days ago, I’d been here and seen one graffiti. I
automatically looked around, but Taehyung has been nowhere in
sight. I stared at the graffiti painted all over the wall for a while.
Namjoon
13 July YEAR 22

I leant my head on the bus window. From the library to the

petrol station. The road I travel daily, the boringly normal landscape
sped past the window. Would there be a day I would escape this
landscape. It seemed impossible to judge what tomorrow would
bring, or to wish for something.

Ahead of me, I could see a girl with a yellow hair tie sitting there. As
if she was sighing, her shoulders lifted up before dropping. And then
she put her head on the window. For a month already, we had
studied at the same library and gotten on the bus at the same stop.
Though we had not said a word to each other, we were looking at
the same landscape, living through the same time, and sighing the
same sigh. The hair tie was still in my pants pocket. [NOTE: from
'Highlight Reel 承'.]

The girl always got off three stops before me. Whenever she
stepped off, I wondered if she would be going to hand out flyers
again. What sort of day would she have to have, what sort of work
would she have to do. How much frustration would she feel, for a
tomorrow that felt like it would not come; like a thing like tomorrow
did not exist in the first place. I thought of such things.

The stop that she had to get off was reaching closer. Someone
pressed the bell, and passengers stood from their seats. But the girl
wasn’t one of them. Just leaning her head on the window sill, she
kept seated. It seemed as if she was asleep. Should I wake her? I
was momentarily conflicted. The bus was reaching the stop. The girl
continued to be unmoving. People got off. The doors shut, and the
bus departed.

The girl did not wake between the next three stops. As I
approached the bus exit, I was conflicted once more. I was sure that
nobody else would care for her, after I left. The girl would wake far
from where she needed to be, and her day was bound to become
much more tiring as a result of it.

Leaving the bus stop, I started to walk towards the petrol station.
The bus left and I did not look back. On top of her bag, I put her hair
tie down, but that was all. That was not the beginning, or even the
end. It was nothing from the very beginning, and there was no
reason for there to be anything. So I really thought it was indeed
nothing.

Several days ago, I had been here and saw some graffiti painted
on the wall in front of the bus stop. I automatically looked around,
but Taehyung had been nowhere in sight. I assumed he’d left in a
hurry because the spray cans were rolling on the ground. I stared at
the graffiti painted all over the wall for a while.
[NOTE: from 'Highlight Reel 起承轉結'.]

Seokjin
14 July YEAR 22

I sat on a bench at a tent bar next to Namjoon. It was after

midnight, but the tent bar was filled with guests who had come to
close their days with bitter drinks. The call came in the afternoon.
Namjoon had asked me to meet him after his shift at the gas station.
And he hadn't said anything so far. He just continued to drain glass
after glass. I asked him if anything was wrong, and he just smiled
and shook his head. "It's just that my life hasn't changed a bit since
I was born. It doesn't get better or worse."

Namjoon said that his energy had run dry. That he'd pretended
to be a friend when he couldn't do anything for us. That was why
he couldn't meet Taehyung or visit Jungkook again. That he was
making excuses even at this moment and he was nothing.

Our high school years came to mind after we'd had quite a few
drinks. That incident Taehyung disclosed on the beach. Why did
Namjoon defend me then? "Why did you do it then?" Instead of
answering my question, Namjoon asked another. Why did I do what
I did then? Mom's death, my childhood at my maternal
grandmother's in LA, Dad's cold expression when I came back to
Korea. I'd never felt the warmth of a family. Maybe I was feeling
tipsy or it was the night air, but I confided all my secrets that I'd
never revealed before.

"Now I know everything about you, but aren't the others also
waiting for you to share your story? Waiting for you to give them a
clue about what happened then?" Namjoon said after listening to
my confession. I told him goodbye and headed home. I strolled
along the street for some time staggering a bit. The night breeze
was refreshing, and the moon in the sky was bright. I stopped in
front of some graffiti painted on the bus stop. If I confessed
everything, would Namjoon believe me? If someone confessed to
me what I was going to say, would I be able to believe that person?
[NOTE: he's talking about the time-traveling thing here, not the
truth about his father and his past.]

A few days ago, I drove past the convenience store where

Taehyung was working. Through the car window, I could see him
smiling. He was talking to a customer and laughing out loud. That
familiar laughter that made his mouth turn into a square shape.
What is there to talk and laugh so loudly about with a customer?
Well, Taehyung had always been like that. He shook with laughter
at jokes no one found funny and shed tears at things no one found
sad. How should I reconcile with Taehyung? The future appeared
bleak.
Hoseok
16 July YEAR 22

I turned the pages of the sketchbook one by one. We were

smiling together in the classroom-turned-storage room, in the
tunnel, and against the backdrop of the sea. Jungkook was lying
alone on an asphalt road. Blood was streaming down the road. The
large moon hung high in the night sky.

"Are you hurt?" I looked back and saw Jungkook coming into his
patient room. I danced with my ankle wrapped in a pressure
bandage, and now a plaster cast was around that ankle. "I seem to
be in a better shape than you." I deliberately showed a dramatic
reaction to his words and said that his health was unbeatable.
Jungkook said he'd undergo a thorough checkup the next week and
be able to go home after that if there were no problems.

I decided that we should throw him a party. We'd had a party at

Namjoon's container on the day Jimin escaped from the hospital,
with hamburgers and cola and cake that Seokjin brought. [NOTE:
party scene from 'I Need U' M/V.] We fought over who got to wear
the only party hat until it was crushed. We smeared that expensive
cake all over each other's faces. Namjoon complained that he'd
have to clean up the mess all by himself. But it was fun. The seven
of us finally got together for the first time after we left high school.
We laughed at every word and every movement. Every minute
together was exhilarating and exciting even though we didn't say or
do much. I had wanted to make a day like this. A day we met and
laughed together again.

"Hey, that night..." Jungkook started to say as we got off the

elevator and headed for the front door of the hospital. His gaze was
fixed on something outside. He didn't seem to actually be looking
at anything. He was just blinking his eyes as if trying to dig up an old
memory. "Does Seokjin talk about that night? I mean, has he said
that he saw me or...?" Jungkook stopped talking. "Seokjin? Saw
you? Where?" I asked, but he didn't open his mouth again.

"You're a good person, right?" Jungkook asked me before we

parted. "Stop talking nonsense." I tapped him on his shoulder
playfully and waved goodbye. I quickly bent my steps. Am I a good
person? Growing up, I'd been told that I was a bright and cheerful
kid. I used to be told that I was sensitive and impressionable. Did
that mean I was a good person? I'd never given it a thought before.
I looked back and saw him still standing at the entrance and looking
up at the cloudy sky.

Jungkook
16 July YEAR 22

I stood by the window, plugged in my earphones and slowly

sang along to the song. It has already been a week. Now I could sing
along without looking at the lyrics. I took out one earphone and
practiced with my voice. They said they liked it because the lyrics
were beautiful, but the lyrics were embarrassing, so I just scratched
my head. The sunlight of July was streaming through the big
window frame. The green leaves were fluttering and shining,
probably because of the wind, and the touch that the sunlight left
on my face felt different each time. I closed my eyes. I looked at the
yellow, red and blue tingeing behind my closed eyes. I don’t know
if it was because of the lyrics or because of the sun, but something
was rising from inside my heart, tingling and burning.
Taehyung
17 July YEAR 22

I thought my side was going to rip apart in pain. My sweat

dripped. The hiding place in the railway, the empty lot behind the
corner store, underneath the overpass, the kid was not to be found.
I ran to the bus stop but here too, she was unable to be seen. Those
waiting for the bus stared at me strangely. What had happened?
We hadn’t promised to meet, but it was still strange. The kid always
turned up somewhere, and followed me wherever I went. Even if I
said she was annoying, it was useless. But in any of the places we’d
been together, the kid could not be found.

Having arrived at a familiar wall, I stopped my footsteps. It was

graffiti we had done together. It was also the first artwork she had
completed. On top of it, a huge X sign had been drawn. It was that
kid. I hadn’t even seen her, but I still knew. How? There was no
answer, per se. But on the wall, there were many images
superimposed on each other.
 The way she laughed on the day I lay on the railway and hurt my
head. The way she had helped me rise after I fell trying to help; her
expression when she had been mad that I stole her bread to eat it.
The way her expression would dim when we passed a family
portrait store. The way her eyes would unknowingly trail after
passing students. As we sprayed this wall, I had said this: “If
something’s hard, don’t just suffer alone, and tell me.” The X was
drawn over all our memories. It felt like they were saying all of those
things were fake. It felt like they were saying everything was a lie.
Without knowing, I curled my hand into a fist. Why? There was no
answer, of course. I turned and walked away. I was alone again.
That kid, and myself, both alone.

Namjoon
20 July YEAR 22

I raised my head while flipping through magazine ad sections.

On other side table window side for days a person with different
face was sitting down. Thick book, big bag, the white paper cup - it
was all similar but it wasn't her. I put my attention back to the
magazine. I looked at the same page for hours. Due to the repeated
thoughts, words were not coming in my head. Why am I sitting
here? I couldn't think of an answer. In middle of all these people
who are paying attention to something I was just flipping magazine
with no energy. I did have the anxiety and hurry to do something. I
know it's not good to be just like this.

I returned the magazine and went between the bookcases. On

the bookcases that was taller than me had rows of books. The wind
that came through the open window the smell of books and dust
blew in the air. It reminded me of high school days. When I hung
out in those kinds of classrooms. Even then the smell of the book
was like this. Did the 'Me’ now grow up a little from the ‘Me’ of the
past? I couldn't be really positive. Perhaps everything about me,
might have stopped at that time. I shifted myself to the bookcase
on the other side. I picked up the book I used to study back then. I
had to start again. Starting from the ones I gave up and everything.
Seokjin
24 July YEAR 22

I followed Dad into the brightly lit conference room. I sat on a

chair by the entrance and looked around. I wasn't sure why I'd been
summoned there. Dad sat in the center and was surrounded by
familiar faces. I looked at the clock. The discharge party for
Jungkook must've started. I was thinking of calling the others when
Dad opened his mouth and the entire room became still. The
atmosphere was heavy, but it didn't feel ominous. Rather, the room
was buzzing with excitement and expectations. The lights went out,
and the title of the conference appeared on the screen. Masterplan
for the Redevelopment of Downtown Songju.

Dad had called me all of a sudden. To be exact, it was his

secretary who called me. I'd said I had an appointment, but I didn't
think it would work. Dad asked me in the car on our way here if I
was still hanging out with those so-called friends of mine. I didn't
answer. He wasn't asking a question. He was just belittling them,
reproaching me for getting along with them, and ordering me to cut
ties with them.
 He didn't even look at me. "Don't waste your time on nothing.
I'm telling you this out of experience. Besides, you'll have to help
out a lot here. Try to learn as much as you can. Then, you'll soon
grow into an adult worth your salt."

Jimin
24 July YEAR 22

The inside of the container was completely decorated. The

hamburgers, fries, and drinks that Hoseok brought were set on the
table, and Christmas ornaments were dangling on the walls.
Jungkook was sitting in the center.

Only three of the seven cups were filled. Hoseok had left for his
part-time shift after laying out the food, and Namjoon was coming
late after his part-time shift was over. No one could get hold of
Yoongi, and Seokjin said he'd come but hadn't shown up yet.
Taehyung sat speechless. Is he still uncomfortable in Namjoon's
container? I'd almost dragged him here, but it was impossible to
liven up the mood.
 This was how we were most of the time after returning from the
sea. No one reached out to each other at first, and no one was
aware of how the others were doing. Maybe it was inevitable. We
were no longer those students who'd ditched school to hang out
together. We all had our own set of problems and obligations now.
We couldn't afford to disregard them just because we wanted to be
together. As for me, I had to work hard to stay out of the hospital
and decide whether I'd go back to school. I had to prove to my
parents, as well as myself, that I was okay. I had to make sure that I
wasn't a burden for anyone.

After some time, Jungkook hesitantly stood up. I held onto him,
saying he should stay a little bit longer and see Namjoon. Jungkook
just laughed, saying he'd take a rain check. I couldn't keep him
there. We cleared the table and left the container. We turned on
our phones' flashlight function. It was ten-thirty. We parted in front
of the container. As I crossed the railroad and waited for the bus to
come, I could see Jungkook and Taehyung walking away in the
distance with their flashlights on.
Taehyung
24 July YEAR 22

I darted up the stairs, taking three and four at a time Liquor

bottles were rolling around here and there, and cups and plates
were scattered across the floor. Dad had fallen to the ground in one
corner with his head bowed. My sister said it was not what I thought
even before I opened my mouth. "Dad's voice was a bit loud, and
someone must've called the police, thinking he was beating us."

Then the police officers came into view. Women from the
neighborhood who were gathered in front of our door clicked their
tongues and walked away. My sister kept apologizing and bowing
to the police officers. "Nothing was broken and no one got hurt." I
didn't need to be ashamed of this situation. Dad's drinking habit
had long been the gossip of the neighborhood, but I looked the
other way. Dad seemed to have fallen asleep. His face was
sunburned and covered with a bushy beard as he was working as a
clay laborer at a construction site. He had more gray hair than
before. I could see the watery inside of his mouth and his tongue.
 I used to kill Dad in my dreams. Once, I almost stabbed him in
reality. Maybe it started from that point. I began to sympathize with
him. I hated myself for sympathizing with him. Could that person be
called a parent? He was not qualified to be one.

Someone tapped me on my shoulder, and I looked back a

familiar face. He was a police officer who'd been to find dispatched
to my house a few times. I'd also seen him at the police station
several times when I was called in for my graffiti. I just bent my head
low. It was a gesture to say "I'm sorry." for making them rush here
for nothing, but I was also uncertain what look to wear on my face.
"Your neighbors must be worried about you two a lot. The lady who
reported this incident didn't sound annoyed at all and asked us
repeatedly to come quickly before someone got hurt. Make sure to
find her and thank her later." I asked him if that lady's voice was low
and husky. He couldn't recall exactly but it could've been. My sister,
who was talking with another police officer, turned her head to look
at me.

"Do you keep in touch with Mom?" I asked her after everybody
left. She was cleaning up the bottles and plates scattered on the
floor, and I was sitting against a wall. Dad was still asleep in that
uncomfortable position. The sun had already set, and the long
window above Dad's head was pitch dark.

My sister picked herself up and sat at the dining table. She didn't
say a word, but her silence more than answered my question. I
asked her for Mom's address and telephone number. "I don't know
her number. I just know that she lives in a rented apartment in Buk-
gu, Munhyeon. Taehyung, why do you want to contact her?" She
asked. "To ask her. What she'd been thinking. Why she left. Why
she appeared again." My sister sat down next to me. "Taehyung,
Mom misses you." I snorted and stood up. She was clearly unaware
of I was. I told her I was going to ask Mom these questions, but I
wasn't particularly curious about her answers. How would it help
me even if I knew why she left? I just wanted to release my
smoldering resentment. "Why did she come here? She’s the one
who abandoned us. And now she wants to play the mom figure?"

I started walking north, towards the direction of Munhyeon. I

wanted to walk faster than my throbbing heart. That was the only
way for me to be able to breathe. It was already past midnight.
Buses had stopped running and I had no money for a taxi. Walking
was my only option. In order to get there, I had to cross the railroad
and a bridge and pass through downtown. I might be able to get
there before sunrise. I sensed someone's footsteps behind when I
was crossing the railroad. Jungkook was following me. I'd
completely forgotten that Jungkook was with me when I ran into
my house at the sight of the patrol car out front.

"Go away!" I shouted at Jungkook and walked on without

looking back. He must've seen it all. The police, the neighbors
clicking their tongues, liquor bottles rolling around, Dad snoring,
and my sister with her head bent low. Jungkook must have seen it
all. I'd never told anyone about Dad's violence. Never. I'd never told
the others that Mom ran away. It wasn't because of my pride.

Maybe it was. It just didn't seem fair that I should have to explain
my miserable situation and life by myself.

I quickened my pace. I'd finally got out of the residential area

and climbed up the stairs of a pedestrian overpass over the railroad
when I heard footsteps behind me. I took a quick glance and saw
Jungkook. I was going to scream why he was still following me but
changed my mind. It was none of my business. I stepped onto the
bridge after coming down from the railroad. Jungkook was still
following me from far behind. I stopped in the middle of the bridge
and looked down at the river.

In the dead of the night, roads and buildings were dimly

illuminated by the streetlamps, but not the river. The jet-black river
ran ferociously under my feet with a roaring sound. It felt more
threatening because it wasn't discernible in the dark. Jungkook also
stopped behind me and looked down at the river. There were only
two of us on the bridge. No pedestrians and no cars. Our t-shirts
were wet with perspiration and flapped in the wind.

"Do you know we've been walking for the past one hour?" I
waved at Jungkook, and he came closer. We began to walk side by
side. "Can I ask where we're going?" I told him I was going to my
mom's. I had something to tell her. Jungkook nodded. My pace was
getting slower. I suddenly wondered if I was really going to my
mom's. I didn't exactly know where she was living. I didn't know her
number or address. I had no plan after arriving at the apartment
complex. My rage had subsided in just one hour and was replaced
with hunger and pain.

I imagined what our encounter would be like. In fact, I had

already imagined it countless times. It was the next step that was
unclear. After asking Mom my questions, what would she say?
Would she answer them at all? If so, or if not how should I react?
Maybe it was better for all of us if I didn't meet her. That was always
my conclusion. But I kept imagining the moment and was now
strolling the night street like this without any plan to see Mom.

"Is your leg OK?" Come to think of it, Jungkook just got his cast
off. And I'd made him walk for hours. "The doctor said I should walk
a lot as rehabilitation." Jungkook showed me a smile and outpaced
me as if he was trying to prove it. I couldn't bring myself to say that
we should stop here. I decided to trudge on. "Aren't you hungry?"
As I loosened up, all my senses came clamoring back. "I'm regretting
that I didn't finish off the cake and that hamburger." I giggled at
Jungkook's words. Human beings are so absurdly strong, or so
absurdly weak, and we were the proof — feeling starved,
complaining that our legs hurt, and laughing together even in this
situation.

The lights grew brighter and more boisterous, and a busy street
soon appeared in front of us. It was far into the night, but the
brightly lit street was crowded with people and cars passing by. It
was three-thirty in the morning. We sat at an outdoor table outside
a convenience store.

Jungkook said he was thirsty as we were about halfway through

our instant cup noodles. I went into the store to buy drinks. When I
came back, someone was standing in front of Jungkook. He had his
back turned to me, so I couldn't tell who he was or what he was
doing. Jungkook was looking up at him with an alarmed face. I ran
to Jungkook's side and looked at the man.

The man was wearing a dark khaki overcoat in the middle of

summer. He had a dirty mop of bushy gray hair, and his scraggly
beard was stained with ramen broth. He reeked of alcohol. He was
greedily devouring my instant noodles. It'd be no use asking him
who he was or why he was eating my noodles. I was surprised but
not angry. Actually, I was scared.

At that moment, someone from a group of troublemakers

coming out of the convenience store shoved the man's shoulder,
and another tripped him. The man in the overcoat lost his balance
and pushed the table as he fell down. Jungkook's instant noodle cup
toppled over, and the broth spilled all over his legs. Jungkook
sprang to his feet and hastily shook it off his pants. He said he was
OK and wasn't burned as the broth had cooled already.

The group of troublemakers were walking away, snickering. The

man in the dirty khaki overcoat was staring at the toppled cup. His
fingers were on the table and covered with noodles. I couldn't bring
myself to ask if he was OK. "Shouldn't you apologize? You just made
this mess. screamed at the men. They looked back. "No, we didn't.
He did. And no one told you to sit there. Little punks out at this
hour." The men cursed inarticulately.

The man in the dirty overcoat looked at me. Our eyes met in the
air. He had yellowish eyes and a face covered with age spots. He
reminded me of someone. Someone who was always on the drink,
swinging at everything with his fists, and living like a dictator and a
loser. What I expected to happen happened. I flung myself at the
men, and two from the group threw punches at me. I dodged the
first punch, but the second punch grazed my chin. Jungkook
stepped in to stop me but got caught up in the fight as well. The
plastic tables and chairs were turned over, and the "No Parking"
sign got kicked down. The part-timer at the convenience store had
already called the police, as if he were used to such rows. We could
hear the siren a minute later. We all leapt to our feet and ran in
opposite directions, shouting at each other that they were lucky to
get away this time.

I was particularly good at fleeing. I sometimes got caught on

purpose, but now was not one of those times. I continued to lead
the way, checking whether Jungkook was keeping up. A silvery car
passed by us at full speed. Its side mirror brushed against Jungkook.
Stunned, he sank down. He'd just been discharged from the
hospital after two months because of a traffic accident. It was
natural that he was stunned. The car came to a screeching stop, and
one of the men who'd hit us earlier stuck his head out of the
passenger seat window. "Watch it. We're letting you go just this
once. There'll be no mercy next time." And the car vanished with a
roaring engine.

Jungkook slowly picked himself up, holding onto my arm. He

looked uncomfortable. He must have hurt his leg when he fell. The
inside of my mouth throbbed. Blood smeared on the back of my
hand when I wiped my mouth with it. "Where should we go?"
JungKook asked. "With this leg? We're going back.” Jungkook began
to walk, saying that he was OK. "Look! I'm fine." I stood there and
watched Jungkook drag one leg from behind. "Let's go back!" I
shouted at Jungkook. I checked my phone. It was four-fifty in the
morning. We still had some time to kill until the first bus came. I
looked around and found a low hill behind the entertainment
district. "Have you seen the sunrise?"

I propped up Jungkook as we walked up the hill. I sank down on

the stairs at the end of the gentle slope. They say the sky is at its
darkest right before the sunrise, and it was true. No stars were
visible in the pitch-dark sky. But neon signs of different shapes and
colors were radiating bright lights in the city down below. I turned
my eyes northward. I roughly guessed the neighborhood that Mom
must be living In. There, that must be it. She must be eating,
sleeping, and cleaning in that apartment.

"Jungkook, I followed Mom then." Jungkook stared at me. I

fixed my eyes on the lights streaming out of the windows of the
apartment complex. Then. That night. That night ten years ago
when Mom left home. That night when Mom, my sister, and I were
beaten to a pulp by Dad and we cried ourselves to sleep. [NOTE:
this is shown in 'STIGMA - Short Film'.] I couldn’t recall why he beat
us so hard. But I distinctly remember thinking, I’m supposed to go
swimming with my friends tomorrow, and I guess Mom won’t be
able to pack a lunch for me. Will my busted lip heal by tomorrow?
If not, they’ll make fun of me. My shoulders hurt. I shouldn’t have
tried to avoid his punches. My sister is weeping quietly. It was even
more distressing to hear it today.

Half asleep, I caught a glimpse of Mom standing at our feet and

looking down at us. She was leaving. She was deserting us. I knew
it instantly. I pretended to be asleep, got up, and followed her. I
didn’t have any plan. I wasn’t thinking of living with her. I didn’t feel
bitter or scared. What it’d be like to have no mother, what it’d be
like to live without one - it wasn’t something you could just
understand.

I followed her for quite some time. In my memory, I walked all

night. But my memory must be exaggerated as I was a little child
back then. Was she really unaware of me following her? Maybe she
was struggling to look forward for fear of having to take me with
her if she looked back. “Of course, that thought came to me
afterwards. When I struggled to grasp an understanding of her.
Now? I don’t know why I came this far.”

“Hey.” I looked up at Jungkook’s voice. “I’m sorry.” I gazed at

him. “What are you sorry for? Why are you sorry?” “You couldn’t
go see your mom because of me.” Jungkook answered. “Are you an
idiot?” I flared. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. But my voice got
louder on its own. My tongue continued to trip as I wasn’t good at
speaking and didn’t know how to express my feelings. “Why do you
feel sorry? People should be sorry for you. What did you do wrong?
I should be sorry for bringing you here. My parents, who made me
bring you here, should be sorry. Those guys who picked the fight in
the first place should be sorry.” I continued to raise my voice. “You
are a good person. You are as good as you can be. It’s not your fault.
It’s not YOUR fault!”

The sky, which seemed to remain pitch dark forever began to

turn bluish in a flash. The light that permeated the sky from the
furthest end sucked in the glimmer of the neon signs. We watched
in surprise without a word. The huge red-hot sun surged up over
the apartment complex. Is Mom watching the sunrise too?

The two of us sat in the back of the bus next to each other on
our way home. It was before dawn broke over us. The road was
empty, and the bus continued to race along. I turned my head and
looked towards the north once again. That night, Mom had stopped
walking. She stood there motionless for some time. She didn’t look
back, either. If I had continued forward at that point, I would’ve
reached her. I could’ve held onto her hand and asked her where she
was going, where she was headed while leaving us behind, and
when she was coming back. I could’ve cried, thrown a tantrum and
maybe pulled her back home. But I just turned around and returned
home alone. My entire body ached and I couldn’t go swimming with
the others. I lay on the floor, sweating and trying to sleep. I didn’t
know why.

“It’s that man again.” Hearing Jungkook’s voice, I looked out the
window. A stooped-over man in a khaki overcoat was walking
alone.

Hoseok
25 July YEAR 22

I ran into Yoongi on my way to the practice room from the

hospital. I was heading to the practice room without realizing it and
stopped. What would I even be able to do there? My ankle had
gotten worse. The soft cast had been replaced with a real plaster
cast. The doctor scolded me. "You shouldn't strain your ankle." But
I couldn't sit down while working at the burger joint. I had a lot
going on at the practice room, too. "You have to be extra careful
with your ankle. It's been injured before, and it might get damaged
permanently unless you take extra care." The doctor kept saying
this again and again.
 I entered onto the main road leading to my house on my
crutches. I hadn't gone home at such an early hour before. I hadn't
skipped training without a special reason. I came face to face with
Yoongi. He was drunk and staggering at a crosswalk. He didn't
recognize me as he brushed past.

I turned my head and fixed my eyes on the "Walk" signal. Two

days after my visit to Jungkook at the hospital, I'd gone to Yoongi's
workroom. He didn't answer my call, so I just went straight to his
workroom. It must've been in the morning because it was before I
went to Two Star Burger. I knocked on the door, but no one
responded. [NOTE: the banging on the door Yoongi heard in a
previous note was probably Hoseok.] The faint sound of music
streamed through the door. I thought of calling him again but gave
up. I kicked the door instead.

I’d known Yoongi since middle school. I knew how his mom had
died, how her death had impacted him. I tried to be a comforting,
reliable friend to him. I laughed off his harsh words and took him
around even though he thought I was annoying. But we were of no
importance to him. We thought at least Jungkook would be
different. He surely knew what he meant to Jungkook. He'd already
heard about Jungkook's accident from Jimin. But he didn't come to
the hospital. What's worse, a woman who claimed to be his musical
partner came up to me out of the blue several days ago. She told
me that she'd found me after asking around with everyone. She said
that she wasn't able to contact him.

The "Walk" signal turned green. I began to cross the crosswalk,

staggering myself. I looked back as I bent my steps. I tried not to but
couldn't help it. Yoongi lay on the street in front of a cart selling
accessories. The vendor screamed at him as passersby frowned.

"When are you going to stop doing this?" He looked up at me

blankly. "Do you think you're the only one going through tough
times? Do you think I put on a smile in front of others because my
life is all rosy and bright? Tell me. What are you so upset about?
Everyone knows you're good at music, and they all willingly put up
with you even when you act up. Yes, you must've been in pain since
your mom died. I know. But — You can't go on like this forever.
Aren't you going to make music? Can you live without it? Haven't
you been happy, even just once, because of music?” I continued.
“Why didn't you go see Jungkook? Don't you know what you mean
to him? DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN TO HIM? Don’t you
see we're all hurting too? Don't you see that?!"

I didn't mean to push him so hard, but I was really upset. It

wasn't entirely because of him. I was upset that I was on crutches.
Injuries were inevitable but also fatal for dancers. I thought I'd been
on guard, but I got hurt at an unexpected moment. It was my fault.
No one else could be blamed for it. I knew I'd be nervous and
conscious of my ankle every time I dance, and that'd make me
dispirited. Or else, I'd get injured again. And yet I couldn't get away
from it. I couldn't live without dancing. I had to keep dancing
despite being dispirited and injured.

"It's time to stop running away. If you're going to run away

again, don't ever come back." I turned around and crossed the
street. "Hoseok." thought I heard him calling me but I didn't look
back. I had always blamed myself for everything that went wrong.
I’d always thought I should’ve done this or endured that. I didn't
want to live like that anymore.

Yoongi
25 July YEAR 22

I opened my eyes in the middle of the night. It was raining.

Curses came out of my mouth automatically as I picked myself up
off the ground. I sat still for a while. My entire body was soaked wet
with rain. I felt shaky and chilly all over.

“If you're going to run away again, don't ever come back."
Hoseok's voice rang in my ears. All I could remember after leaving
Jungkook's hospital was that I continued to falter, bump into things,
and fall. Seized by drunkenness, headaches, fear, and despair, I was
unaware of how much time had passed or where I was. That's when
I came across Hoseok. At that moment, I felt choked up. It was half
joy and half relief. For some reason, I believed that he'd be able to
understand my confusion and fear even though I couldn't
understand myself.
 But Hoseok looked away. He was pretending not to have seen
me. Soon the signal changed and I just stood there watching him
walk away. Then someone shoved me and I fell to the ground. I
heard people screaming and clicking their tongues at me.

"Why didn't you go see Jungkook? Don't you know what you
mean to him?" Of course I knew. Maybe that was why I couldn't go
into his room. I was distorted and thorny. Anyone who tried to
come near me was bound to get hurt.

I raised my head and looked onto the desolate mountain trail.

There were two directions. I could walk deeper into the mountain
or I could turn around and go back down. I began to move towards
the dark forest. I always took at forks in the road. I had no
destination. I'd lost my sense of time. Maybe I was going around in
circles. It felt as if my knees would give in any minute because of
the biting cold and fatigue. I was out of breath, and my heart was
throbbing. What if I just collapsed here and died? Well if I'm
destined to die here, then this is where I'll die. I sank down.
 Raindrops fell on my face. It was as dark with my open as when
they were closed. I was drowning in layers of darkness. I thought of
death again and again. I wanted to flee from the fears and desires
that continued to haunt me. I wanted to run as far from that
terrifying object that I was helplessly drawn to but couldn't look at
straight, that agony that pushed me from one extreme to the other.
Now must be the time. It was all for the better.

I'd inflicted pain on others as I suffered greater pain. I looked

away from their wounds. I didn't want to take any responsibility. I
didn't want to get involved. That was who I was. This moment must
be a blessing for everyone. I blinked slowly and began to doze off.
The cold, pain, and fatigue disappeared. And I became numb to the
darkness, the light, and my surroundings. Everything became dim.

I opened my eyes again at the sound of a piano. It was silent.

Except for the sounds of raindrops falling and leaves rustling.
Amidst the silence, the fragile and delicate piano sounds continued
to drift towards me. Someone playing the piano deep in the
mountains in the middle of the night? I thought it was a
hallucination, but it continued.
 I smirked. It was that melody. That melody I'd tried so hard to
recall. That something substantial that was missing, that made me
stay up all night for days on end. Why was it coming to me at this
moment of all occasions? I concentrated harder, but the tune was
still barely audible and distant and interrupted by the sound of rain.
I started coughing.

I tried to stand up but stopped. What would I do now even if I

could discern the melody? What would change even if I completed
my music? I'd never wanted to be recognized by others, receive
applause, or be famous. I'd never wanted to prove myself. Then
what would it mean to complete this piece?

But I pushed myself up from the ground with one hand and
started towards the direction where the sound was coming from. I
was staggering and my body was trembling. My face and hands
were numb. I couldn't feel my legs. None of my body parts seemed
to be under my control. But I took firm steps, one at a time, to get
closer to the melody.
 Heavy drops of rain struck my head. My shirt was dripping wet.
Every joint and muscle seemed to scream. My legs shivered so
violently that I couldn't lift my feet from the ground. My feet slipped
on the wet grass, and thorny twigs brushed against my shoulders. I
felt chilled to my core and almost collapsed. My pace grew slower
and slower. The piano melody had been subsiding with every step I
took.

I strenuously quickened my pace to find the source music

before it stopped. I was afraid that, if it did, I would never be able
to hear it again. I marched forward, not able to tell the walking trail
from the forest. I was struck by drooping branches. Then, suddenly,
my knees crumpled and I fell to the ground. I was so out of breath
that I felt like throwing up. All my senses came rushing back, and I
felt the cold, fatigue, and strange surroundings deep in the
mountain so vividly. As I quickened my pace more and more, as I hit
against more branches, as my feet slipped harder, the piano sound
became clearer. The more severe the pain, the louder the sound
grew.

I finally stopped walking after wandering in the rain for hours.

The melody was more vividly brought to life. It exploded in my head
as it combined with what I'd been composing up until a few days
ago. I covered my head with both arms and sank down. It was closer
to a raw emotion than music. It stimulated my sense of pain rather
than my hearing. It was a combination of suffering, hope, joy, and
fear. It was everything that I'd tried so hard to get away from.

Suddenly, a scene from one bright sunny afternoon appeared

before my eyes. I was playing a tune in front of the piano in my
workroom. It was that melody that continued to revolve in my
head. "This sounds really nice." Jungkook came closer. I chuckled.
"You always say that." It was not a single melody. It was a
combination of various memories. From the days I used to playfully
pound on the piano keys as a child. From the days my friends
danced in sync with my performance in the classroom-turned-
storage room. From the days when I stayed up all night writing
pieces and inhaled the fresh morning air. My piano was beside me
at every happy moment. These happy memories always ended up
being shattered to pieces, but they couldn't be denied.
 What would it mean to complete this piece? I still couldn't find
the answer. But there was something that preceded this question
and the answer. I wanted to capture all this before it scattered into
the air. It wasn't to please anyone or to prove something. It wasn't
even for myself. I just wanted to capture this emotion, pain, and
fear, which were about to explode in my head and heart, with
music. It didn't have to signal the beginning of something. It didn't
have to mean anything. I just wanted to complete this music.

The piano sound was no longer audible. The rain was gradually
subsiding, but my body was trembling uncontrollably. I closed my
eyes and felt everything surrounding me even more vividly. The
raindrops that fell on my cheeks, splashed onto the ground, and
flowed in a stream, the chilly wind, the smell of soil, the rustling
sound of leaves. And my breathing. When I picked myself up, the
sign for the mineral spring came into sight. I thought I'd roamed
deeply into the mountain, but I was back where I started. And the
path still stretched in two opposite directions. I bent my steps
towards the direction where the sun rises.
Jungkook
26 July YEAR 22

In the hospital flower bed, I secretly snapped a flower. Because

I was continuously on the verge of laughter, I dropped my head. The
midsummer sunlight was blinding. I knocked on the room of the
hospital door but there was no response. I knocked once more and
then opened the door a fraction. Inside the room, it was for some
reason, chilly. And there was nobody there. There was only a quiet
darkness that draped over the room.

I left the hospital room. In my boredom and frustration, I

pushed the wheelchair, cutting through the corridors speedily,
when I met the kid. Because I came so suddenly, I barely stopped
by a girl who tied her hair in one. As we left the hospital, I saw a
bench. I remembered that at one point, we had sat down and
listened to music while drawing. And up there on that rooftop, we
had shared strawberry milk too. While in the hands there had
always been wildflowers, now there was nobody to give it to.
Jungkook
26 July YEAR 22

When I turned around, the hospital was pretty far from me. The
bench that I left the floor, the window I looked at the river together
with her was now out of sight. Looking back she gave the breathing
room in the suffocating hospital. Late evening, if I talked with her
on the hospital bench the sun set down. What happened in our
hang out place, when we went to the beach for a trip and I told her
about when we walked all the way to the train station. She talked
about corner places of the hospital. Which window shows river,
which stair leads to the rooftop secretly. She knew everything
about the hospital.

Her room was empty. Whether she got discharged, or moved to

another hospital. I asked the nurses but I got no information. Some
reason my heart felt sad. I turned around and started walking again.
Far away I was able to see school. I realized that most of the stories
that I told the kid were all about what I did with hyung, what I told
her all started with 'hyung'. For me who was always alone, hyungs
were my friends, family, and my teachers. My story was all in
hyung's story and I only existed within the relationship with hyungs.

But for some reason I kept having this thought. That one day
they won't be by my side anymore. There might be when I visited
and no one is there and no one would tell me the reason. No
something worse might happen.

I remembered that night. The night when a big moon was up,
flipped world. The headlight light that came in my eyes from the
flipped sight. The silhouette of the car that passed my me, tail-
lamp's red light, engine sound that sounded somehow familiar. I
didn't want to make false accusation. But I kept remembering that
moment.

Jimin
28 July YEAR 22

Even today I stayed behind in the practice room. It was already

past 12 and the bus was already unavailable. To be honest I waited
for the bus to be unavailable. That way I could use the room by
myself to practice. When I practice with others I only saw my
lacking. So I got anxious. I was also scared. But I wanted to do it
somehow. So I stayed behind every night.

Days passed and surprisingly feeling scared was gone from my

head. The fact that dancing is so fun, only that remained. For a long
time, the small weak me that I made inside my head was real me.
As I danced the weight of my body, length of my arm, I constantly
thought of the speed and the power I could pull out. Dancing me
was not small nor weak. My skills in dancing improved honestly.
Movements that were not smooth, as I practiced in the end I was
able to pull it off. I was growing. It was only by fingernails but I was
growing. I also realized I was a talkative person. When I dance
stories I couldn't tell, the ones I didn't talk about I was able to
express it. As I started to dance for the first time I started to like
myself.

Jimin
28 July YEAR 22

I checked the inside of Two Star Burger. Hoseok was nowhere

to be seen. It's been four days since he last showed up at the
practice room. Someone said he told my dance partner that he'd
take a break, but after that he didn't answer anyone's call. He didn't
even read the messages posted in the ‘Just Dance’ group chat.

I knew his ankle was bothering him. Maybe it was that night.
The night when my dance partner was injured because of me. It had
rained that night, and he carried her on his back to the hospital in
the rain. His condition must be getting worse.

As I stepped into the restaurant, the workers greeted me

cheerily. "Is Hoseok off today?" They said he was on sick leave,
probably for three weeks, but they weren't sure. His ankle got
worse. He had to wear a cast, and the manager recommended that
he take some time off.

I ran directly to his house. I couldn't wait for the bus to come,
so I ran up the sloping road. It was scorching hot that day. My back
was dripping with sweat. I darted up the stairs to his rooftop room.
The doorknob, heated by the sunlight, was burning hot. It was
locked. I left a message in our group chat. "Where are you,
Hoseok?" By the end of the day, he still hadn't replied.

Yoongi
28 July YEAR 22

I could finally manage to get up in the afternoon. I suffered from

severe chills for two days after coming down from the mountain. I
couldn't remember any details from those two days. I trembled and
shivered with fever. I sometimes came back to myself but quickly
lost it again.

My sheet was soaking wet. I still felt giddy. I stepped out of my

workroom, trying to keep myself steady. I went to the hospital to
get an IV and then stuffed food in my mouth. But I threw it all back
up. I read Jimin's message while I was rinsing my mouth out in the
restroom. Although the number next to the message went down,
there were no replies.

I walked along the railroad and arrived at the bus stop. There
was an unfinished building in the distance. The construction had
been halted for months. The music shop was slightly up the hill after
passing by that building. I stopped in front of the music shop. There
was no crackling sound of flames or a clumsy, slow piano
performance. I didn't have the energy to bend down, pick up a
stone, and throw it. The whole thing seemed like the distant past
and made me wonder if it had really happened. I could see a piano
through the show window.

"Don't you see we're all hurting too? Don't you see that?" That
was what Hoseok said the other day. The memories of that day
were all tangled up in my head. But I distinctly remembered that
Hoseok was somewhat different. It wasn't the first time that
Hoseok had been angry with me. He'd never been on such edge, but
he had always pushed, pulled, and encouraged me every time I fell.
Why did it feel different?

I opened Jimin's message again. "Where are you, Hoseok?"

Several hours had passed, but Hoseok hadn't replied. I could see
that I'd let him down. It felt as if something inside me was flopping
and thumping around. Hoseok often got angry and pushed us. But
he'd never lapsed into silence or looked the other way. He was the
one who always paved the way for me to come back no matter how
far astray I'd gone. Not this time. It seemed irrevocable this time.

Yoongi
29 July YEAR 22

Why is it that I start the melody after the person who will play
the guitar and play with me left my side. I looked at the piano from
the far lying on my sofa. After getting expelled from the school I had
trashed mother's piano tile. The only item that I was able to take
with me from the collapsed house due to fire, I threw the half burnt
tile from the apartment window. I thought it was the end. I
promised myself that I would never put my fingers on piano.

It was the next day morning when I climbed down the stairs
because I couldn't wait for the elevator. I thought I slept for a short
amount of time but the sun was already coming up. There was
nothing on the flower bed under the window. The security man told
me the trash pickup truck came by a few days ago. I lost mother's
piano tiles like that.

Even after that I tried to stop music multiple times. I won't do it

anymore. I'm not going back. Music is nothing. But even when I was
running away I knew. Like when I went down the stairs tripping, that
I'm going to start music again. Music was that to me. In music it was
painful but I was also free. It was total confusion but also clear. Fear
and confidence, hope and fear, in all the contradicting feeling I felt
like living.

I wanted to play piano all of a sudden. From the inside, I wanted

to meet my true self show acts strong but is actually fearful and
cowardice. I wanted to curse, scoff, hurt, hit, break, hug, and cry
with myself. And I didn't want to run away. I wanted to finish the
melody that was made with piano and guitar. This time I felt like I
could do it.
Seokjin
3 August YEAR 22

I opened the door to the storage classroom and entered. In the

unchilly air of a summer night, the smell of mold and dust blended
together. For a moment, several scenes crossed my mind. The
shining shoes of the headmaster, the face Namjoon had standing
outside the door, the day I avoided Hoseok and went back alone.
Suddenly, I felt a pain inside my head and felt a chill. Those complex
feelings, anger, fear, whatever you call it, flooded in like a pain. All
the signals I felt with my body and my heart were clear. I had to get
out of here.

Taehyung grabbed my arm as if he saw the look on my face.

Hyung, try a little bit more. Remember the memories here. I shook
off Taehyung’s hands and turned around. We had been walking
around in the heat for hours. We were exhausted. The other guys
looked at me like they didn’t know what to say. Memories,
memories that Taehyung talked about were just meaningless
stories to me. Stories about that thing I did, that thing that
happened to me, that something that we did together. It could be
the case. It was the case. But memories are not understanding or
comprehension. Experience is not something you hear and figure
out. It’s something that has to root deeply in your heart, your mind,
your soul. But all the memories I had there were but bad things.

Things that made me suffer and made me run away.

A fight happened when I decided to go back and Taehyung tried

to stop me. But we were all exhausted. The way we hit, dodged and
stopped happened with a sense of slowness and heaviness like we
were in a dense, hot liquid. In a flash, Taehyung’s legs got tangled
with mine. I was wondering if my shoulders hit against the wall
when the next moment, I lost my balance and stumbled.

I didn’t know what happened at first. The thick dust made me

unable to open my eyes and breathe. I had a fit of coughing. Are
you okay? After hearing someone ask, I realized I fell on the ground.
I pushed myself up and saw what I thought was the wall had
collapsed. Beyond the wall was a huge space. No one moved for a
moment. Oh my god, but we had been here for so long Someone
said. No one could imagine such space existed on the other side of
the wall. But what is that? The dust settled and a cabinet standing
in the middle of the empty space came into our sight.

Namjoon opened the cabinet’s door. I took a step closer. Inside

was a notebook. Namjoon picked up the notebook and turned over
the first page. For a moment, I held my breath. On the first page of
the seemingly old notebook was an unexpected name. It was my
father’s name. Namjoon was about to turn over another page when
I snatched it out of his hands. Namjoon looked at me surprised but
I didn’t mind. I flipped through the pages. The old notebook passed
through my fingers like it was about to crumble.

It was a diary handwritten by my father about what he and his

friends experienced together in high school. It didn’t tell the story
of every day. Some were every month and there were even illegible
pages coated with something akin to blood. But still, I could know.
That my father and I went through the same thing, that he made
mistakes just like me and that he ran and ran again to make up for
it.

My father’s notebook was a record of failure. In the end, he

gave up and failed. He forgot, turned away and avoided. He let his
friends down. The last page of the diary was smeared with but black
ink. The ink stained the blank page after it, after it, until the very
last page. That stain was an eloquent evidence of my father’s
failure.

I lost track of how much time passed by. Looking at the wind
blowing through the window that had started to feel cooler, it must
be the darkest time of the day, before the sun rises. The other guys
including Namjoon were sitting on the floor sleeping. I lifted my
head up and looked at the wall. I once saw my father’s name written
somewhere here. Under it was a sentence. Everything started here.

It was when I was about to close the notebook that I felt something
at the top of my fingers. On top of the ink stains, blurry letters came
into my sight. I felt the murky air outside the window. Seems like
the sun would soon rise. But the night hadn’t ended yet. It was
neither night nor dawn. In the stains black like darkness entwined
with the hazy light, between lines and lines, were faint letters.

The notebook held more memories than it recorded. What my

father decided to forget, what my father decided not to remember
was left as it is on the letters, between the margins and the space.
The color had faded but the many times my father went through,
his fear, his despair and frail hope that he would never overcome it
were swirling under my fingers like letter punches, left marks as
they are once pressed. The distorted map to my father’s soul was
left as it is.

After closing the notebook, my tears fell down. I sat still for a
while. When I turned around, the guys were still sleeping. I looked
at each of them. Who knows, maybe we had to come back here.
This was where everything happened. We learned of the meaning
of being together and the joy of laughing together. My first
wrongdoing, my first mistake that I had never been able to admit
myself was left like an open wound.

The thought that none of these was a coincidence crossed my

mind. In the end, I had to come here. Only then would I be able to
find the meaning of the pain and anxiety I faced because of the
mistakes and wrongdoings I made and for the first time, take the
first step towards finding the map of my soul.
Seokjin
3 August YEAR 22

The scenes in the photos lying on the floor suddenly seemed to

be moving. I thought I heard Hoseok and Jimin's laughter, and then
Jungkook turned around to look at me. The next moment, the
sound of Yoongi's piano started flowing out. Namjoon and
Taehyung were smiling and running across the beach. All these
moments shot up out of the photos and into the air like a video.
Music was flowing and laughter was bursting and sunshine poured
out.

Moments overlapped with moments, videos compiled with

videos, and something indecipherable was freed from inside me. It
spread everywhere in my body through my veins. Something that
had been blocking my mind crumbled away and memories burst out
like exploding fireworks. Once these memories were freed, they
whirled around uncontrollably. The room itself was lit up with
memories. Sad, lonely, painful, and joyful memories all swirled
around.
 I felt like I couldn't believe what I was seeing. How could I have
forgotten all of these moments? Then I realized. Light was flooding
out from something inside my fist.

Namjoon
7 August YEAR 22

I switched on the light and looked at the flier that was attached
to the door of my container. It read "redevelopment" and
"demolition." People must be talking about the redevelopment of
this area again. There was always chatter about tearing down the
containers lining the railroad and the squatters buildings across the
railroad. I crumpled up the flier and threw it into the trash can. The
talk of the redevelopment didn't begin yesterday. But it always
boiled up as if the demolition would take place the next day and
then subsided after a short while.

I put down my bag and lay on the floor. It'd been a while since
the sun set, but the inside of the container was still hot. I spent
every night here after I visited Jungkook. It felt exhausting. My nose
bled from time to time when I was washing my face. But I always
came here instead of the tiny back room of the gas station.

No one else had opened that door and stepped in here. Maybe
no one ever would. All those who meet must part, without
exception. It could've been our turn. But, if someone still felt the
need for "us" to be together, I wanted to send him a signal that I
was here. I wanted to show him that "our” hideout was still here
and still lit.

Taehyung
11 August YEAR 22

I came out of the convenience store after finishing my shift. I

habitually took out my phone, but there were no missed calls or
messages. It was sundown, and the street was full of people busily
walking by. I put both hands into my pockets and walked on. A
sultry wind swept across the road. I started to sweat after taking a
few steps. How much longer was this summer going to last? I kicked
the ground, frustrated.
 I kept walking with my head bent low and stopped in front of a
familiar-looking wall, It was the wall where that girl drew her first
graffiti. I automatically looked around. Since that night when I left
her in the alley and came out in front of the headlights of the patrol
car by myself, I hadn't seen her in my neighborhood.

I discovered a large "X" sprayed over her graffiti as I tried to find

her traces. What did it mean? Various images overlapped the "X"ed
out graffiti. The image of her laughing at me when I tried to lie on
the railroad and hit my head. And how she got me back up to my
feet when I helped her flee and fell. How she lost her temper when
I took her bread and ate it. How she looked gloomy every time she
passed by the photo studio with family pictures on display. I'd told
her as we sprayed this wall side by side, "Don't think you have to
carry the burden alone. Share it with others." The giant "X" was
sprayed over all those memories. It seemed to scream that they
were fake. That they were all lies. I'd never really looked at this wall
since that day.
 I was about to turn around when I discovered a short sentence
written in tiny characters under the "X." ‘It's not your fault’ was
scratched into the wall. It was that girl. I didn't see her write it or
recognize her handwriting, but I just knew. “It's not your fault." It
was that girl.

I recalled the day I blindly set off to find Mom. I kept marching
frantically, filled with seething resentment, but in the end I couldn't
get anywhere that day. While walking back home empty-handed, I
turned my head towards the city where she lived. The city was
receding under the light of the day dawning in the east. I felt like
crying. Something that I'd been firmly clinging to seemed to be
slipping through my fingers. Lumps of hard feelings noiselessly fell
apart. It felt sad and sorrowful, as if I'd given up something that
shouldn't be given up.

"It's not your fault." The sentence reminded me of how I felt at

that time. I started walking again. I passed through narrow alleys
and went up and down countless slopes. Finally, my house,
Magnolia Mansion, came into view. I climbed the stairs. When I
stood in front of the door, I could hear Dad's heavy breathing and
the clattering of liquor glasses. I turned around, placed my hands
on the guardrail, and looked out. The sun had already set. Its dim
red tint was disappearing from. the darkening sky. "It's not your
fault." I muttered. I took a deep breath, turned around.

Taehyung
11 August YEAR 22

It was like a last farewell. That was the reason I'm leaving is not
your fault. All the things that happened to you is not because you
are a bad person. So don’t blame yourself or feel bad, it was telling
me to have courage.

I was already in front of my house when I came back to my

senses. My sister's scream came behind the doors. I burst through
the door. A familiar scenery was shown in front of me. I stopped my
father. I grabbed his arm and looked at him in the eye. Father
seemed surprised at first but in the end he swung his fist at me. I
fell to the ground multiple times. The sound of sister's cry was
getting louder. My jaw was hurting. Mouth was filled with the taste
of iron. But I didn't give up. I held father by the waist. He screamed
with angry voice. Punches were getting poured on my back and
shoulder but as he did that I grabbed on to him harder.

It wasn't that it wasn't painful, it wasn't that I wasn't afraid.

However if I let go of this hand the cycle will continue. I wanted to
change. I wanted to change.

I don't want to. I'm different from you, father. I'm going to
protect my family.

Hoseok
12 August YEAR 22

Someone shoved my shoulder as I got off the train dropped. I

dropped the ticket I was holding. It fell onto the railroad and slipped
into one of the cracks. I looked around. It was midsummer when I
left and it was still summer now. The train departed for the next
station, stirring up wind.
 At the end of last month, I left Songju by train from this
platform. I watched the city receding out of the window. As far as I
could remember, I lived in Songju. I'd never left the city and never
imagined living anywhere else. I went to the burger joint and to the
practice room on schedule. After dancing for hours, I went home
and crashed. Although the town was small, in Songju I had
somewhere I needed to go to, somewhere I needed to be.

After my ankle was injured, my daily routine fell apart. I went to

work and the practice room wearing a soft cast. The condition of
my ankle worsened. With a full cast on, I had to take a sick leave. I
had the whole three weeks full of nothing. Three weeks of no work,
no dancing, and nowhere to be.

I managed to get by in the morning of the first day. The rain that
poured throughout the night stopped at dawn. I cleaned the house
and organized my clothes. I got a haircut and wiped rainwater from
the bench in front of my house. But I ran out of things to do in the
afternoon. My phone didn't ring. Some messages from my
coworkers and the members of ‘Just Dance’ were all that came in.
Still, no call or message from the others. Come to think of it, I'd
always been the one who contacted the others first. I laid my phone
down. I didn't want to contact them first this time. What if none of
them sends a message? So be it. I remembered how I'd run into
Yoongi the night before. What I blurted out was replayed in my
head. I sprang to my feet and shouted into the air. "He won't
remember anyways!"

The way home seemed farther than usual after I left Yoongi
there. I had to go up the slope on crutches. Although the sun had
set, the air felt sultry. It was also humid. I was drenched with sweat
when I got home. I didn't regret what I'd said to Yoongi. It was time
for him to stop indulging in self-pity. But those moments, those
words kept coming back to me.

On the rooftop, I could look down on the city without me. The
train was passing through downtown and disappearing around the
corner at the foot of the mountain. I carelessly threw my clothes
into a bag and headed for the station. I browsed through the list of
cities in front of the ticket office and picked the largest city nearby.
I thought it'd be better to move to the largest city. And just like
that, I left Songju.

I got off the train after about two hours. As soon as I walked out
of the station, I was faced with a bustling intersection. Rows of high
rises and people busily walking under the bright sun came into view.

I took the first bus that stopped in front of me.

"Where should I get off?" The driver looked at I was speaking

nonsense. A passenger who asks his own destination? Yes, I must've
sounded stupid. After about twenty minutes, the bus arrived at a
neighborhood that seemed like an old part of town. I put down my
bag in a small room seemed attached to a market that had a
"Guesthouse" sign. I stepped outside. I couldn't tell which direction
was which.

I just roamed around the neighborhood for the first two days.
There were no high rises and no brightly lit commercial district. It
was similar to my neighborhood where my rooftop room on the
slope was. I'd chosen to leave Songju for the first time in my life and
arrived at another Songju. Maybe this was why. I tried not to think
of the city and people I'd left behind, but I lost control. I turned on
my phone and thought about the others. I might've left Songju, but
my mind was still there.

On the third day, I decided to venture out further. But in less

than twenty minutes after I left the market, my shoulders began to
stiffen with the crutches underneath them. Sweat ran down my
back under the scorching sun. A red brick building came into view.
It was the Citizens' Hall. While was pushing the button on the
vending machine, the door of the auditorium opened and several
people came out. The sound of music streamed through the open
door. I could see a man stretching in one corner of the stage with
the spotlights illuminating his head.

I was heading into the auditorium before I knew it. As I closed

the door behind my back, I was left alone in the darkness and music.
I sat down in the closest seat. The sound of music flowed through
the air like lapping waves. The man on the stage moved slowly and
stretched his legs, ankles, arms, neck, and shoulders.
His stretching, which went on for quite a while, seemed like a piece
of choreography itself. Then, the music stopped. The man who was
sitting on the floor picked himself up and walked to the center of
the stage. The stage was immersed in silence for a while.

The music started again. This time, it came down in torrents.

The man quickened and slackened his moves to the music. His arms
and legs formed not just straight lines and curves but three-
dimensional shapes. One moment led to another through his
dynamic moves and gestures. His movements were creating a story
that seemed to have no end. He pushed aside the air with his hands
and sent reverberations through the ground, which sent adrenaline
rushing not to my eyes but to my mind.

The pitch of the music grew lower and lower and led the man
to a greater outburst of emotion. He roared with rage with all his
might, caught his breath, and gazed at something far away. His
suffering, hope, joy, and fear were conveyed unfiltered. Feelings
that I'd never experienced before gushed and whirled inside me.

I wasn't aware of how much time had passed. The light of the
auditorium was switched on. I just sat there motionless. Someone
approached me and asked me to leave because the dancers were
rehearsing. Outsiders weren't allowed to stay. The Dance Academy
performance poster was attached to the entrance of the Citizens'
Hall.

The man on stage wasn't featured in the poster. The performance

was scheduled to take place the day after tomorrow.

I came back to the guesthouse and lay on the wide bench in the
backyard. I closed my eyes and thought over those hours at the
auditorium. It was my first time to see a real performance in person.
It was a whole different experience from what I'd seen through that
small window called YouTube. I might've been all the more
awestruck because it was so vivid and alive. I retraced each motion
and gesture that made my heart pound.

At that moment, my phone rang in my pocket. "Where are you,

Hoseok?" It was Jimin's message. The number next to the message
went down gradually, but no other message was posted afterwards.
What should I say? I had always explained myself half-jokingly, but
I didn't want to this time. It was the first time I hadn't responded to
a message directed to me. Our group chat fell into silence.

I went to the auditorium at the same time the next day. I hid in
the darkness and watched the man's moves. It was the same
performance, but it conveyed a different story and different
emotions. Who was he? How could he ex press and convey all these
feelings like this? The rehearsal ended. As I stepped into the
hallway, I met the man's eyes as he was talking to the staff
members way ahead. I bowed without realizing it. A staff member
came up to me and said, "Oh, the guy you're from yesterday."

The performance took place the next clay. But the man wasn't
in it. The performance, which had four chapters, didn't feature him.
The show went on for over an hour, and I applauded and shouted
out several times from my seat. But that was it. I couldn't relive that
overwhelming moment that boiled my heart and froze my body.

None of it could compare to his amazing moves. Why didn't he join

the performance? I paced around the stage after the performance,
but there were only staff members and dancers busily tidying up.
 I came across the performance team again at the train station.
I was stepping onto the platform to leave for another city and saw
a group of people gathered in the distance. They were obviously
having trouble loading stage sets and all sizes of equipment on the
train. I didn't have a set purpose when I went over and helped them.
It was just that they looked confused and inexperienced and I was
used to arranging and moving things. My cast got in the way, but I
was better than most of them who were just standing there
flustered. "You're that guy again." I looked around and found that
staff member.

"I didn't even thank you properly." The staff member came to
my seat a little while after the train departed. He sank down in the
next seat and said about half of the staff had left because things got
messed up. He added that they wouldn't have made it without my
help. He pointed at my cast and asked if it weren't too much stress
on my ankle. I just waved my hand.

"By the way, that man I saw in the rehearsal. Why wasn't he in
the performance?" He seemed confused at first. Then he nodded.
"Ah, him. He's our artistic director.” The staff member's explanation
continued on and on. How he'd once been an acclaimed dancer.

How he'd suffered a terrible injury. How he'd undergone years of

despair and frustration. "Do you know the most amazing part? He
surprised everyone and made a comeback as a choreographer and
director." But the injury had left a lasting impact. He couldn't
perform on stage again. The staff member gave a deep sigh. It was
getting dark outside the window.

I came to join and tour with the show by coincidence. I helped

them unload their baggage on the next station, and my bag got
swept away in the process. Fortunately, I had the number of one of
the staff members. I got off at the next station, went back to the
station they got off at, and headed to their lodging. It was late at
night. I was invited to spend the night with the staff. I had breakfast
with them the next morning and tagged along to the District
Cultural Center, which was their next venue.

The staff’s proposal to join them and tour together must've

been made partly as a joke. I also half-jokingly chimed in. At that
moment, his practice began. I watched him blankly. And then I
asked them. "Can I really go with you?"

I toured around three cities with them. We took a bus or train,

got off, unpacked at a motel, stuffed food in our mouths, checked
the stage at the performance venue, came back to the motel, and
got on the bus or train again. The man stretched and practiced
every day no matter where he was. He never skipped a day
although he wasn't going to perform on stage.

I made friends with the staff members and the dancers. Their
dances and mine were different, but we share the passion to
express what we feel through movement. We talked about dancing
on the train and while we waited for the bus. We told one another
about our favorite dancers and watched their videos together.

I finally got to speak with him when I was showing the staff a video
of ‘Just Dance’ practicing.

"You're a dancer?" I looked around and he was standing there.

I stood up, stooping slightly. I looked at the man. I was at a loss as
to how to answer his question. I was hesitant to admit in front of
him that I was also a dancer. "You're a dancer." He said, pointing at
me in the video. That's how I first came to talk with him. "Why do
you like dancing?" I nervously slurred the end of my sentence.
"Well, that is... you know…," The man asked me when I first started
dancing. I told him it was at a talent show at school when I was
about twelve.

My classmates had dragged me onto the stage. My body began

to move automatically. I got even more excited with the clapping
and cheering of the audience. I couldn't think of anything else. I just
moved spontaneously. After the music ended, I'd looked ahead,
running my fingers through my hair drenched in sweat. I felt as if I'd
thrown up all the lumps that were clogging my heart. It felt
refreshing and rewarding. It took me a long time to realize how
exhilarating it was, and that that feeling didn't come from the
audience's applause but from deep within myself.

The man pointed at me in the video and said that he liked my

movements. "Not every dancer can move like this." I watched
myself in the video. I liked how I looked when I danced. I could fly
into the air off the ground and break free from the eyes and
yardsticks of the world. Nothing was important to me except
moving my body to the music and communicating my feelings
through my body. Off the stage, I was tied down by so many things.
I couldn't stay in the air with my feet off the ground. I had to smile
and laugh even when I was upset and sad. I used to collapse on the
street, taking medication I didn't need. There were moments when
I could reveal who I truly was. Moments when I believed I could be
happy again. Moments when I could let go of everything that
weighed me down and soar high. Moments I could reach heights
unimaginable offstage. Dancing gave me those moments.

"I heard you overcame a serious injury." The man stared at me.
I knew I was being rude, but I had to ask him. The man looked down
at my cast and opened his mouth.

“Height is important. But so is depth. You have to hit your

bottom. You have to go down until you can't go lower, until you feel
as if you'll suffocate from your despair. Then, you have to escape
from it. What is crucial is to discover your driving force. In other
words, you have to find what makes you stand firm again. Once you
find it, don't ever let go. It can be a person or a desire. It can be evil
and disgusting. But stick to it."

That was our first and last conversation. The tour continued, but
I didn't have another chance to talk with him. I watched him
practice every day and thought about what he'd said. Deeply. My
darkest despair. What would make me stand firm again from that
despair.

"Do you live in Songju? The director is also from there." A staff
member said this to me when I was looking at a promotional leaflet
in the lounge of the train station. The fireworks festival on the
shores of Yangjicheon in Songju. August 30. As far back as I could
remember, I'd seen the festival every year. It was held at the end of
every summer. When I was living at the orphanage, we all climbed
up to the rooftop and watched the fireworks surging into the night
sky and showering back down. After I left the orphanage, I lived in
the topmost floor of a multi-household house in the highest
neighborhood in Songju. It was the perfect spot for watching the
fireworks. s. Although it was a bit far from the fireworks play, it
provided a wide, uninterrupted view.
 “Did you change your mind overnight?" The staff member asked
me. He was the one who had suggested that I join the staff several
days ago. “We thought you were reliable and talented." The other
staff members agreed enthusiastically. Some even applauded.

I almost said yes. I had become attached to them without realizing

it. Touring was an arduous job, but I enjoyed every moment of it,
even lying down on the bed at night moaning and groaning. My
ankle would heal gradually as I continued to work with them and
stage more performances. Maybe I'd be able to audition and be
selected as an official member and get to perform on stage. Maybe
I'd be able to receive training from the man and learn more about
depth. I'd begun to think this might be where I belong. The staff
member told me to sleep on it, and I gave him my answer last night.
I thanked him for his suggestion and told him I had to go back. "Are
you sure?" He asked me once again. Picking up my bag, I replied, "I
have to go to get my cast off."

I got on the train at the opposite track. I'd arrive at Songju

Station in two hours. It felt thrilling. I hadn't been pushed to hit my
psychological bottom yet. It may never happen. But I'd thought
about some moments after the conversation with the man. “I won't
contact you ever again. You live your own life. Don't ever come
back.” Maybe Yoongi had hit his bottom that day. "Hoseok." I'd
turned around and walked on, and he'd called me. I didn't look
back. I abandoned him when he was suffocating from his own
despair. I ran away.

"Are you okay?'" I sent this message after much hesitation. The
memory of that day had been weighing me down more and more
heavily each day. Jimin's message was still posted in the chat.
"Where are you, Hoseok?" I sent Yoongi a message in another chat
with just the two of us.

His reply came at dawn. I woke up, startled by the vibration of

my phone. Yoongi's name appeared on the screen. He sent me a
music file. I put in my earphones and played the file. I listened to his
music with my eyes closed, lying on the bed. It was beautiful and
unlike anything he'd ever made. Joy and despair intersected amidst
sorrow, and a blue sea stirred beyond a desert. Flowers bloomed
and withered, and notes leaped and fell headlong the next minute.
It resembled Yoongi.

I asked what the title was, but he responded with another

question. "When are you coming back?"

The train station at midday was quiet. People carrying large

suitcases were coming down onto the platform to take the
oncoming train. They reminded me of myself on the day I'd left. I
was wearing what I'd worn that day and carrying a bag of the same
weight. But my ankle must've healed. It wasn't the only thing that
had healed. I opened our group chat on my phone and posted a
message. "What's up, my friends! I’m back! How have you all
been?"

Hoseok
13 August YEAR 22

I dropped by the ‘Just Dance’ practice room for the first time in
a while. I was met with the pounding sound of music, the air filled
with the smell of sweat, and the room full of adrenaline. My heart
fluttered every time I came here. After a round of loud, noisy
greetings from the members, I sat against the wall and watched
them practice. When would I be able to dance again? I was both
impatient and thrilled. I thought of the man's dance. Would I be
able to dance like him someday? At that moment, someone came
close and sat down next to me.

It was the girl. She tapped me on my shoulder, smiling, and said,

"Where have you been? Were you having fun all by yourself?" The
two of us in the mirror were sitting side by side leaning against the
wall. "How've you been?" She made an expression that seemed to
reproach me for such a rhetorical question. I continued, gazing at
myself in the mirror. "Have I told you about my mom?" I must've
repeated it a hundred times. But she always listened to my story
enthusiastically. "She must be living happily somewhere, right?
Then I'm OK. Even if we never meet again, it'd be OK if we're both
happy."

She stared at me. "And I thought you looked like my mom. But
you didn't. I've been busy finding this out." She looked confused. I
chuckled and continued to speak.
 “So, when do you depart? No, that's not what I was going to say.
Congratulations. It was your dream." She bowed her head and
raised it again. "Sorry. I should've told you first." "If you're sorry,
buy me a meal. I'll throw you a really nice farewell party later."

I deliberately smiled a big smile and made a fuss. "Let's meet

again someday as famous dancers. Work hard. Because I'm not
gonna let you outdo me." She nodded. The two of us in the mirror
sat next to each other leaning against the wall.

Hoseok
13 August YEAR 22

In middle of the practice room Jimin and she was standing. The
5 seconds after getting in to the position felt like such a long time.
As the music started to flow out of the speaker two of them stated
their first move. It was the choreography that I was practicing with
her just a few days ago. I sat on the floor of the practice room and
stared at them.
 When I was told that I can't dance for a while because of my
ankle it was really hard for me. The fact that I couldn't dance and I
had to only look at someone else dance made me frustrated.
However, as I helped Jimin practice, and as a result looking at Jimin
mature I realized. That it wasn't a big problem I can't dance. That I
can be happy by doing dance in someway

When Jimin was practicing I couldn't let even a small mistakes

pass. Jimin would miss the timing or make smaller movement than
expected. Whenever that happened I stopped the music and
checked every movement. But as an audience watching on the floor
of the practice room Jimin's dance looked different. Instead of the
small every movement I saw something bigger. The mistakes I saw
during the practice approached me differently. The small mistakes
and amateurishness actually gave a unique wave. Jimin was
definitely different from me but he had his own timing and his own
style of expressing. Jimin was shining and dancing that moves
people's heart.

The song finished, Jimin's dance ended. Jimin's face looked like
it was shining brightly with excitement and happiness. Next to him
she was standing. She will leave to abroad soon. We made eye
contact. As I held my thumbs up she smiled big. It was weird. She
looks nothing like mom. I don't even remember mom's face that
well why do I think I see a resemblance. For a moment somewhere
in my heart ached. The ankle that wasn't completely healed started
to ache.

Seokjin
15 August YEAR 22

I saw her for the first time by the railroad. It was about a month
ago on a day I had a lot on my mind. I went to see Jungkook at the
hospital but stayed there for only about ten minutes. I rarely even
talked with Jungkook when I was there. For some reason, Jungkook
was tense and kept his guard up against me. No message was
posted on our group chat. Hoseok's message, which said he
wouldn't keep in touch anymore, was the last. I felt like that
message was aimed at Yoongi. But, whenever I read it, it seemed
like it was directed at me for some reason.
 I left the hospital and walked on blindly. I realized after some
time that I was in front of the railroad crossings. The crossing bar
was down, and I could see a train approaching in the distance. It
reminded me of the time when I got on an airplane alone in my
childhood. It might sound silly, but it felt similar. What was I
expecting? Whatever it was, was I not supposed to expect
something like that? Was that sense of belonging no more than an
illusion? What was this emptiness? Was I all alone after all? What
did I do wrong? This train of thought continued with the strong
wind stirred up by the actual train that passed by.

The train disappeared from sight as fast as it'd approached.

[NOTE: opening scene from 'Highlight Reel 起承轉結'.] The bar
went up and the crossing as open again. She walked towards me,
swimming against the flow of air brought by the train. She dropped
her diary as she slid by me. In her diary was her wish list: taking an
Italian class, joining a temple stay program, volunteering at an
animal shelter, taking a barista course, and sharing earphones with
her boyfriend while taking a walk. Smeraldo was one of them.
 Underneath a magazine clipping of Smeraldo was the following
paragraph:
Love is not primarily a relationship to a specific person; it is an
attitude, which determines the relatedness of a person to the world
as a whole. If I truly love one person, I love all people, I love the
world, I love life. If I can say to somebody else, "I love you," I must
be able to say, "I love in you everybody, I love through you the world,
I love in you also myself. - From ‘The Art of Loving’ by Erich Fromm

I did a lot of things with her for one month. We took walks,
sharing earphones and listening to music like she wanted and
volunteered together at an animal shelter. We couldn't do a temple
stay, but we took a bus and traveled to the last stop and spent time
at our favorite café.

Smeraldo is a flower that is said to only grow in the northern

part of Italy. I dropped by a large flower shop nearby, but no one
had ever heard of the flower. Then I found this small flower shop
still under construction. It was at a corner on the left side after
crossing the bridge to Munhyeon.
 I didn't have high expectations when the owner, who had been
organizing some documents in one comer, approached me. Upon
hearing the flower name, the owner stared at me for a long time
and told me he would be able to deliver the flower, although his
shop was not officially open yet. "Why does it have to be that
flower?"

She didn't know that I had her diary. She'd never be able to
imagine that I'd followed the list in her diary for all the things we'd
done together over the past month. I didn't return her diary or tell
her I had it. I knew it was wrong. I knew I was almost deceiving her.
I tried to come clean a few times, but I was afraid. I was afraid she
might leave me just like my friends. I was afraid her heart would
turn cold once she got a glimpse of my mistakes, wrongdoings,
foolishness, and fear.

I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make her laugh. Every

time I made her happy, it felt as if I became a better person. It felt
as if my shortcomings were being put out of sight. I had just one
more thing to prepare. It was a flower that meant "the truth untold"
in the language of flowers.

The owner seemed baffled at my request to get ahold of the

Smeraldo flower by August 30 and said it'd difficult to find one by
then. But it had to be that day. A display of fireworks was scheduled
to take place at Yangjicheon Stream. She was fond of the night sky.
I was thinking of confessing my love for her when the fireworks
burst into the night sky. I was thinking of presenting her with her
favorite flower and confiding my heart at her favorite time in her
favorite place.

Seokjin
15 August YEAR 22

It was after getting out of a jammed crossing and starting to

speed up when I came to a sudden stop, unknowingly. The car
behind beeped their horn and passed by, someone was hurling
curses, but amid the noise of the city, I didn’t hear anything. There
was a small flower shop at the corner of the alley on the left. I didn’t
stop abruptly because I saw the shop. It was more like I discovered
the shop after stopping my car.

When the owner - who was organizing papers at the side of the
shop currently under interior construction - approached me, I had
no expectations. I had already gone around several places but even
the florists had no idea about the existence of the flower. They only
showed me flowers with a similar color. But I wasn’t looking for
something with a similar color. The flower had to be real. After I
told the owner the flower’s name, he looked at me for a while. Then
he said even though the shop hadn’t been officially opened yet, he
could deliver the flower to me, and asked me. “Why does it have to
be that flower?”

As I turned the handle and got back to the road, I started to

think. The reason why it had to be that flower. There was only one
reason. Because I want to make that person happy. Because I want
to make that person laugh. Because I want to show them the me
that they like. Because I want to become a good person.
Taehyung
29 August YEAR 22

It was Hoseok's idea to get together to see the fireworks. After

his return, our group chat started buzzing and humming again. We
told him how we missed him in a reproachful and welcoming
manner, and Hoseok responded playfully that we should've realized
the importance of his existence earlier.

"Make sure to come for the fireworks." We all said yes.

Namjoon would arrive after his shift for his part-time job, and
Seokjin also promised to come, however late, after his
appointment. I was reminded of my dream when I saw the
message. A woman getting killed in an accident with Seokjin
watching her. That dream ended with fireworks. White petals of
flames poured down from the night sky.

I shook my head to dismiss these thoughts. The venue of our

gathering was Namjoon's container. I sometimes took a walk in its
direction when I couldn't sleep at night or when Dad got drunk and
acted up. I didn't walk up to the door or stay for long like I used to.
I would just turn around when I passed the train station to catch a
glimpse of it.

But the container was lit every time. I hadn't realized how
unusual that was until recently. It was always lit. Even when he
must have been asleep. I realized that it was a signal for us to come
any time. I had no way to know. It was just an assumption. But I was
confident. Still, I couldn't knock the door and how. It was just a go
right in because I didn't know what to say.

The fireworks are tomorrow. I'll be able to make it on time

if I leave as soon as I finish my shift.

Yoongi
30 August YEAR 22

I got off the bus and strolled along the railroad. Containers
emerged from the distance. I saw Taehyung from the bus window
on my way here. He was also walking towards the direction of the
containers. The others must be coming too.
 I completed the piece several days ago. I changed the version I
sent to Hoseok a few more times. I gave it the title “Hope." To be
honest, the title didn't actually match the piece. It contained my
fear, cowardice, and inferiority. It contained all the moments I tried
to avoid, get away from, and reprimanded myself for. But I couldn't
think of any other word that could encompass it all.

Namjoon's container appeared. Someone was standing out in

front. His face wasn't visible but, based on his physique, it was
Jimin. I stopped and looked around when someone called me from
behind. That someone was waving at me in front of the first
container.

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

I received a bouquet of Smeraldo flowers at the last minute. It

was past the appointed time, and I was looking at my watch
impatiently. Fortunately, the delivery truck appeared before she
did. The flower shop owner was driving a truck with the Flower
Smeraldo logo on the side.

"Sorry. The fireworks festival held me up." After the truck left, I
discovered there was no card in the bouquet, which I'd ordered
with the flowers. I called the owner right away. "Ah, I'll make a U-
turn now. The light just changed." Before the owner finished his
sentence, she came into view, walking towards me from an
intersection far in the distance.

Jungkook
30 August YEAR 22

I arrived at the railroad really early. The air had cooled down
after sunset, and it was dark. I thought going into the container but
decided to sit on one corner of the platform across the railroad. It'd
been a while since we all met. A mixed feeling outweighed joy and
expectation. I was constantly reminded of the day of the accident.

Jimin was the first to arrive at the container. He opened the

door, checked inside, but didn't go in. I jumped off the platform and
crossed the railroad again. Yoongi appeared at that moment,
walking slowly with his eyes fixed to the ground, and looked back.
There was Hoseok behind him, loaded down with bags in both
hands.

I felt uneasy and agitated. I was excited to meet them. But I

couldn't just enjoy this moment freely. I'd been waiting for so long
for this moment but wanted to turn around at the same time. The
first set of fireworks burst into the air without warning. The white
flames surged into the middle of the night sky and exploded into
millions of sparkling, blazing petals with a big popping sound.

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

The delivery truck came to a sudden stop after making a U-turn.

Its headlights flashed. I stood there helplessly amidst the scene of
crashing, bouncing, and falling. I couldn't hear or feel anything for
a moment. It was the summer, but the wind felt chilly. Then I heard
something hitting and rolling on the road. The fragrance of flowers
tickled my nose. I came back to reality. The bouquet of Smeraldo
flowers fell from my hand. She was lying in the middle of the road.
Blood began to spread out from underneath her tousled hair. Dark
red blood flowed down the road. [NOTE: car-crash from 'Highlight
Reel 起承轉結'.]

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

The bouquet of Smeraldo Flowers dropped from my hands. The

girl was just over there, in the middle of the road. The dark red
blood flowed down the road.

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

Who would be able to remember the moment love begins. Who

would be able to predict the moment when love ends. Why might
it be that humans are not given the ability to perceive such
moments. And why is it that I have been given the ability to restore
everything to the way it had been.

The car suddenly stopped, headlights flashing, as it crashed into the

victim, who was thrown up before she fell. Facing these disturbing
moments, all I did was stand there, defenceless. I could not hear
anything and I could not feel anything. Though it was summer, the
wind felt cold. Following the road, there was a sound of something
rolling away and falling. And then, the smell of flowers. Only then
was I able to come back even a little to reality. The smeraldo bunch
of flowers dropped limply from my hands. She was in the middle of
the road. From between her hair, blood was running down. Dark
blood trickled down the road. And I thought. If only I could turn back
time.
If only, huh.

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

With a loud pop, the first set of fireworks burst into the air on
the night sky in the distance. Somewhere, I heard a mirror crack...
--timeline resets—

[Epilogue: Nightmare]

Taehyung
11 April YEAR 22

It was dawn when I awoke. Dad's familiar smell and snore

streamed from his room. Murky air on the other side of the piece
of translucent glass inserted into the front door ruffled. It took only
three steps from the narrow entrance where shoes were scattered
all over to the master bedroom I'd be gone to sleep there since I
don't know when.

I felt a pressure on my back and shoulders as I picked myself up.

I stepped outside with a glass of water in my hand. I carelessly
slipped into any shoes and walked slowly. I passed the police
station, alley, and pedestrian overpass, and the railroad beyond
came into sight. It was before the sunrise, and the street was
immersed in silence with no cars out yet. Someone's vomit from
earlier in the night reeked.

I walked along the railroad. One, two, three, four. I stopped in

front of the fourth container from the end. It was Namjoon's. I
reached out for the doorknob and came to a halt. Namjoon must
be asleep now. And what I saw last night in my dream must be
nothing more than a nightmare.

I took a sip of water and turned around. The dilapidated station

and railroad, abandoned houses, and trees and weeds that were
growing haphazardly in between. A black plastic bag rolled towards
me and then flew into the air. It was a poor neighborhood.

In my dream, this area was enveloped in flames. The entire

scene seemed to shimmer and wave. Maybe it was because of the
heat or maybe it was because I was dreaming. Someone's scream,
some kind of a crashing sound, the sound of crying, and the sound
of something crumbling all came together and flooded my mind.
The images that shimmered in the far distance suddenly drew near
at full speed. I felt nauseous and shut my eyes, but it was a dream.
I couldn't get rid of them by shutting my eyes. My gaze, first blocked
by flames, pushed through people standing with their backs to me
the next minute, and then stopped suddenly. One, two, three, four.
The fourth container was Namjoon's. The door had fallen off. There
were blood stains. Flames surged inside. People stepped aside one
after another. The floor came into view. Namjoon was lying there.
Someone blurted out. "He's dead."

I opened my eyes to find the ceiling of my house. I could hear

Dad's snore. It was all a dream. My palm hurt suddenly. I turned on
the cold tap water and held out my palm. It felt numb under the jet
of water. I filled a cup with water and drank it. It was a dream. A
nightmare.

---- <3<3 ----

[NOTE: ‘The Notes 1’ ends with Tae’s nightmare, however we have
some notes from other eras that might be apart of the next time
loop (below)]
Seokjin
11 April YEAR 22

When I opened my eyes it was April 11th again. Sunlight shone

through the open curtain. When I got up I got dizzy that I closed my
eyes again. The surroundings turned red and Taehyung came to my
mind. He was standing alone on top of the observatory platform at
the beach. This happened on May 22. It was the past and the future,
something that happened before and could happen in the future. It
all happened when I thought everything was solved.

It was around when the sun was setting when I saw Taehyung
climbing up the platform. The sky was still blue but the dark red
atmosphere was creeping in. I was looking around and saw
Taehyung climbing up. When Taehyung reached the top he looked
down at us for a short time. Then he jumped. Like a bird, he flew as
if he had wings. It seemed like he was in the air for a second, then
it felt like a glass shattering, the curtain opening bringing wave of
cold air.

Then when I opened my eyes again it was today, April 11th

Namjoon
11 April YEAR 22

I was groping around some T-shirts when Taehyung reached out

from behind and grabbed one. It was a t-shirt with the same printed
quote as the one I was wearing. Taehyung laughed sheepishly,
taking off his torn shirt. Under the dim light hanging on the trailer
box, for a second, I saw his bruised back. Hoseok looked at me in
shock. Taehyung looked at himself in the mirror wearing my t-shirt.
And he laughed.

“Dude’s doing some graffiti or something, got caught by the

cops while running around. Had to get him out so I was late.” I
pretended to smack Taehyung and Taehyung in turn made an
exaggerated expression of fake apology. Yoongi-hyung, who was
sitting at the corner of the trailer, slowly approached and tapped
Taehyung’s shoulder.
Jimin
12 May YEAR 22

When I opened my eyes Hoseok was standing in front of me. He

looked down at me in familiar ceiling, familiar darkness. When I got
up from the surprise he put his finger on his lips. Seemed like
everyone was asleep the room was quiet. Hyung handed me a shirt.
Then pointed to the door.

Everyone came. I was told that Namjoon is on the lookout and

Yoongi was stopping the nurse. Jungkook and Taehyung will be
joining in the elevator later. At first I couldn't understand what he
was saying. He held out his hand to me.

The day I get out of the hospital. I used to dream about that day.
Get out of the hospital and meet friends. I wanted to have fun,
laugh and spend time together like before. But now I don't know. Is
it a good idea to get out. My parents who hid me here treating me
like I don't exist, people who talk about me that I have mental
issues, maybe even Hoseok might be thinking the same thing. Deep
inside that I'm a weird guy, that it's uncomfortable to hang out with
a person like me.

Come on. We have no time. I don't know if it's because he

hurried me but it felt like the ticking of the clock seemed to be
faster. Click, click, a footstep that sounded like a hallucination came
closer to the room. Hyung and I both looked at the door and looked
back at each other. His hands were still in front of me.

Seokjin
30 May YEAR 22

I only had one hint. The map of the soul. Words that were
unfamiliar, which gave me not the slightest idea what it was or what
I was supposed to do with it. Even so. I needed a starting point for
something. And I hoped that the 'map of the soul’ would be that for
me. But it wasn't so. I made countless loops and did plenty of
searching about the map of the soul. But everything slipped
through my hands.
 Looking back, the time this all started had been that way too.
“Do you think you can fix all your mistakes and wrongs and save
everyone?” When I nodded my head in response to this question, I
had no idea what I would suffer.

I turned away from the dust-covered books that filled the

shelves and left the used bookstore. When I went up the stairs into
the alley, cherry blossoms were flying. I suddenly felt like I had been
here before, and I looked behind myself the basement entrance of
the bookstore was dark. And the sign wasn't even visible. Maybe I
had confused it with a different bookstore. I had come to countless
bookstores and libraries to search for a hint about the map of the
soul. There wasn't much to say about what I'd found. Combing
through bibliographies and keywords on the internet. Maybe in
that process I had visited this bookstore too or at least a bookstore
like this one

I headed toward the car at the entrance of the alley. I started

the engine and put my hands on the wheel. But I didn't know where
I had to go from here.
Seokjin
4 June YEAR 22

If you enter my father's study. There's an interesting painting. A

precarious wooden raft atop the surging waves of the open sea.
People abandoned there. With neither food nor drink. Neither
compass nor hope. People who, out of thirst and hunger - fear and
loathing, horror and greed - suck each other's blood and kill each
other and in the process, kill themselves too.

When I was young, I was so afraid of this painting that I didn't

go into the study. I even wondered why my father would have hung
such an awful painting on the wall. But as time passed, the painting
gradually became just a part of the study, not the subject of fear or
concern.

Instead, I developed a different fear. That was the fear of the

room on the other side of the door inside the study. Neither the
door nor room was anything special. It wasn't locked with a padlock
or code, and what lay behind was only an extension of the study. If
there were anything special about it, it was only that it had a lot of
books - the bookshelves were packed with papers and books from
my father's high school days and onward. I called that room the
'interior room.'

The interior room was a place where my father could go alone

to gather his thoughts or come up with new ideas, and other than
him, nobody else went inside. I had gone inside the room only once.
And even though I was young, I had known. That it wasn't simply a
study full of books. At a glance, the books placed in no particular
order and the carelessly stacked boxes and documents only seemed
to be human. I felt no warmth from the paper, and there was no
emotion even in the paintings or photographs. Even just standing in
the center of the room and looking up at the bookshelves, I felt a
sense of intimidation that made my whole body feel as if it were
crumbling.

I don't remember there being any commotion over me having

entered (although there may have been one) but from some point
onward I stopped going into the room. Once or twice, I went as far
as to stand in front of the door. But I only looked up at it for a
second, and didn't even think of turning the knob.

Yoongi
8 June YEAR 22

I took off my T-shirt. The me inside the mirror was nothing like
me at all. The T-shirt with ‘DREAM’ written on it wasn’t my type in
any way. I hated the color red, the word “dream”, and even the way
it clung tightly onto my body. Annoyed, I took out a cigarette and
looked for my lighter. There was nothing in my jeans pocket, so I
looked through the bag and realized. It was taken away. It was
taken from my hands just like that. I was left with the lollipop and
this T-shirt.

I ruffled my hair and stood up, but then heard a sound signaling
a message came. The moment I saw the name with three words on
the phone screen, everything around me suddenly lit up and my
heart dropped with a thud. I read the message and snapped my
cigarette into two. The next moment, I was smiling in the mirror.
Wearing a tight red shirt with 'DREAM’ on it, I was smiling like an
idiot.

Namjoon
12 June YEAR 22

The countryside town remained unchanged. Excluding the

weather changes everything was the same. I purposely went
around the town to avoid passing near the store near the river and
headed to the resting area town. The road was overall up hill. The
sunlight was hot, I was sweating. A scooter passed us making dust
raise up. Taehyung coughed and complained. The curve where the
accident happened came into view in the distance. The street that
no longer has any sign. Taehyung squatted and looked down at the
asphalt road as if there was someone who collapsed there. On the
way here, in the bus, I told Taehyung about the incident that
happened few years ago during winter. The competition in the
riverside restaurant, the snowflakes falling down from the frowning
sky, Taehyung's face that had injuries, the feeling of all the hair in
the body stood up as scooter slipped.
The accident and the death of Taehyung. How easily the incident
wrapped up so easily and got forgotten. But there was some parts I
couldn't say. The expression Taehyung had when he said he has a
favor to ask and every moment I lived in this countryside town, and
the fact that I thought about the friend with the name of Taehyung.

"Hyung. let's not die" As I looked back I saw Taehyung who was
looking up at me while putting his palm on asphalt. I was trying to
find a word to reply but nothing came to my head. Under
Taehyung's palm, the white lane where Taehyung laid, no the friend
from countryside town, I felt as if I was looking at him. There is no
one in the world who is ok to die like that. A person died and no one
took responsibility nor sincerely mourned. I was also the same.
"Let's go down" Taehyung stood up as I said that. "Where are we
going now?" Instead of replying to Taehyung's question I replied
"You said you had a favor to ask me back when we went to the sea?
Tell me about it. Whatever that is let's try to solve it together."
Namjoon
15 June YEAR 22

I looked down at the kid who was eating ramen in hurry. Eight,
maybe ten years old? Even while stuffing the hot noodles in his
mouth he turned his head from time to time to check my mood as
if he was walking on eggshells. When I asked what his name was he
replied Woo Chang. Its Song Woo Chang.

Then ramen soup got on his shirt and mumbled how he would get
scolded by his grandmother while rubbing the stain with his fingers.
It was about two month ago when I first saw Woo Chang. I was
coming back from gas station and he was standing in front of the
container box behind. At that time I thought he just got lost while
looking for a shortcut getting out of Songjoo train station. This
container village wasn't a suitable place for a little kid to five.

But then after 2 weeks I saw Woo Chang kicking a worn out
soccer ball on the open field next to the containers even after that
I ran into hint couple of times. He was always staying late alone,
same t shirt, pants,and shoes. Just by looking it was clear there was
no adult looking after hint. That didn't mean I could give any help.
For me, just taking care of myself was already overwhelming. I
always passed by Woo Chang giving no attention.

When I was coming back to the Container Village after working at

Gas Station it was a little past 11. I was going through my pockets
to search for the key when a small squatting shadow that caught
the corner of my eyes. It was Woo Chang. All I had to do was ignore
it like I always have done. I just need to find my keys, open the
container door, cook ramen for myself, and go to sleep.

Today I couldn't. I didn't want to. I looked up the sky. The whole
day. the sky was cloudy. Even the night sky was filled with heavy
ashy clouds. There was no sign of any starlight. Suddenly I was
hungry. If I remember correctly, I only had one ramen left in the
container. That was my situation. I looked down at the key I took
out of my pocket. I thought about the scenery I looked back while
leaving the countryside town. I thought about the phrase I written
on the bus window. I walked towards Woo Chang.
Yoongi
23 June YEAR 22

After noticing the notification from the group chat I unlocked

my phone. Before I noticed the day was already dark. It wasn't easy
to collect all the melodies I made. I collected and organized all the
ones that survived from what I recklessly burnt and the melodies
that I still remember. To my surprise most of them were the ones I
made in the storage room during high school. Even if I look back I
don't think I worked on music that much back then. Theme' back
then, no, the `me' in anytime period, I was always running away
from music. The conversation went pretty far by the time I opened
the chat. Surprisingly the person who created the group chat was
Jimin and it seemed like the topic was already discussed, the
conversation started from the middle abruptly.

Taehyung asked everyone. "Do you know what 'Map of the Soul'
is?" It was quite after when Hoseok replied "What is that" Taehyung
replied, "Hyung, if I knew would I ask?" "Ah right. But why?" After
those conversation went back and forth, Jimin explained the
situation. He went to the hospital and saw Seokjin-hyung by chance
and saw how he was searching for something called 'Map of the
Soul' It was way after when Namjoon appeared in the group chat.

"Before Seokjin-hyung also asked me what 'Map of the Soul' was,

back then Hyung told me how this 'Map of the Soul' will be the
method to end all this." Then the conversation didn't continued for
a while. Everyone was probably lost in their thoughts. What was
"the thing" Seokjin-hyung had to end? Everyone already noticed
Hyung was acting weird. Then if the 'Map of the Soul' was found
would Hyung be better. What was that and where can we find it.
The conversation that started after longtime was this. "Did you not
invite Jungkook into this group chat?" Jimin replied, "I thought
about it, but Jungkook is still sick." Jimin slurred his words as if he
wasn't confident.

Yoongi
23 June YEAR 22

I suddenly thought, 'Why did Jimin go to the hospital. How did

he feel going to the hospital after being locked up there for a long
time.' I opened the chat room that I closed and wrote "Good. You
did good. Let's leave Jungkook to rest a little more."

Jimin
24 July YEAR 22

It was a little before the promised meet up time when I was

almost near the container box. It was a place to congratulate
Jungkook's discharge from the hospital but that was not everything.
There was something we were going to tell Seokjin-hyung. It felt
like an important message for Hyung but at the same time I felt that
he wasn't going to like it. Instead of going in the container box I
walked along the railroad. A train passed by leaving a strong gust of
wind. The platform that was filled with people was now empty. The
promised time passed. I turned around and deeply breathed in.
There was no one in the container box. Only the hot air that was
heated up from summer sunlight poured out as if it was waiting for
me. Even though I was 10 minutes late, I was the first one to arrive.
What happened to others? Did something come up for them? Are
they even coming? As I turned on the fan, I looked around the
container. Namjoon-hyung's container box I returned to after a long
time was too dead silent for it to be a party. I found few papers from
the table drawers and wrote with a ball per wrote letter by letter

"Jungkook-ah Congratulation on discharging" and put it up on walls

of container. It didn't remove the shabby feeling but it was better
than not doing anything. About another 10 minutes passed while
checking that everyone was on their way through group chat. When
a train passed by the open doors, the container vibrated. Looking
at the rumbling and shaking world I thought about the day I opened
the hospital door and ran out. If it wasn't for Hyung, Taehyung, and
Jungkook would I have been able to open the door and walk out?

Just because there is a door there, just because the door is open,
that doesn't mean everyone would walk out. Perhaps Seokjin-
hyung is locked in some place like that? Perhaps he is waiting for
someone to knock on the door? There was nothing certain for sure.
It was certain that it would really help. But if the small pieces we
found could be a small clue. When my thoughts reached till there
the door opened and Yoongi-hyung entered.

Jungkook
24 July YEAR 22

On the wall of the container it was written `Jungkook-ah

congratulations on getting discharged' but the atmosphere didn't
seem like it. The air inside the cramped container was bloated from
unknown tension. Looking back, it seemed like it was like this often
lately. In a quick second Seokjin-Hyung went out Taehyung-Hyung
quickly followed, others looked at each other and followed.

Taehyung-Hyung said something but it didn't look like Seokjin-

Hyung was listening. I saw Seokj in-Hyung get in his car behind the
other Hyung. The car lightly backed out and turned the direction to
the side. The light coming out from the container scanned the car.
For a second there was a there was a trace of accident on the
bumper of the car and got swallowed by the darkness. The strange
thing was that I didn't feel anything looking at that. Even if it was
just confirming something I already knew, when you stand in front
facing the solid truth, it wouldn't be strange to feel complicated or
get shocked but reality was not like that. On top of Seokjin-hyung's
car that was disappearing into the darkness, the headlight that was
came towards tee that night overlapped. The feeling of body
getting lifted, the moment I couldn't swallow saliva nor could I
breath, the fear that shook my body like a seizure. The unbearable
chills that I felt while my conscious was fading. The shadow of
death. The trace of accident that I saw on the bumper.

I went inside the container. I sat while looking at Jimin-hyung's

message "Jungkook-ah congratulations on getting discharged". The
leg I injured from the accident ached. Hyung didn't seem to come
back in. They were talking about something I didn't know.
Jungkook
26 July YEAR 22

When I got back to my sense I was at bus station. I looked back

to see how much I walked but the hospital was out of sight. I waited
for the bus and got on. It was the bus that headed to that place. It
wasn't planned but perhaps in my heart I already knew. I had to go
back there. I had to confirm the meaning of what happened there.

I thought while looking at the summer weather through the

window. Can I trust Hyungs? The bus took off right after I got off.
Dust rose up. I slowly walked to the place accident took place. The
night came into my mind. A big moon that rose on the night sky, the
world that was flipped upside down, the light of the headlight that
came into my flipped vision, the silhouette of the car that went past
me, the red light from the tail lamp, and the sound of the engine
that was somehow familiar. I laid on the asphalt road like that day.

Tilted my head and looked up the sky. The day was getting darker
but there was moon was not visible. It was pretty empty road but if
the car was coming and couldn't see me there could be another
accident. While thinking I asked myself again. If I couldn't trust the
hyungs who do I trust.

Seokjin
30 August YEAR 22

It seemed like she was shocked to see the diary she thought she
had lost. Her favorite movie, the place she wants to go, favorite
flower, her dreamed future came up every time I flipped through
the pages. It was also something I had done for her. Sorry wasn't
coming out of my mouth. The red diary was between us like a street
light on street.

I wanted to make her happy. Wanted to make her smile. I

wanted to be a good person. I thought if I follow what is on diary it
will work. But it wasn't true. As I tried to be someone else I started
to get afraid. If I get caught about the real me. However as if I
couldn't put a period on sentence that has lost its subject, I, who
has lost his true identity couldn't move forward and remained in
the same place.
Now I know. My lacking and failure is also part of me. No matter
how cruel and painful it is, that I have to be honest about myself to
move forward. I got up and she didn't stop me.

I came to the streets and took off my cap. As I combed my hair

the time I spent to become someone else slipped through my
fingers. While I turned my head I made eye contact with myself who
was reflected on the glass. Dry skin, pale lips, slim shoulders. All
seemed pathetic. It made me laugh. The me reflected on the glass
laughed with me.