No One - Tumblr Posts

reblog and put in the tags your queer awakening (could be a person, movie, book, event, whatever).

oh how the tables have turned

doodles i did durin class part 1

Should I make you guys cry two packs of pocket tissues? Or just one? 🤔🤔🤔

No One - preview

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook / Reader (female)

Genre Extreme sports AU | Angst

Warnings Death

Release Sept. 20, 10pm ca (CET)

Summary “Letter to No One, 22nd. Maybe it’s time I change the greetings to my letters and actually say hi to you. Dear No One. Yes, that’s better. I was looking forward to writing this one. Tomorrow we’ll be my 100th jump. Can you believe it? It seems only yesterday that I bought my very first suit. Time really flies. I think I’ll have to celebrate. I’d celebrate with you, if only you existed. We could have gone to the amusement park and enjoy some rides. Haneul used to really like those. She would have liked you too. Well … the “you” I imagine, anyways. Have I ever told you you’re a girl? I guess I did at some point. You’re a girl No One. You don’t really have a face, but I guess you could be beautiful. Cool, too. You have to be cool to willingly read my weird letters. But again, you don’t exist. I’m starting to wish you did though. It would be nice to have someone to be with tomorrow - someone who knows. Like you.“

©️ dfdph, 2020

Ok, so I wasn't able to finish the new JungkookXReader One shot I planned on posting today. So, again, I have to postpone it for a couple of days. Sorry guys!

In the meantime, someone wants to have a chat? Where are you guys from?

I clearly suck with deadlines. 😐 Bare with me, I’m almost done. This one is an emotional beast.

No One

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook / Reader (female)

Genre Extreme Sports AU | Slice of Life AU | Heavy Angst

Warning Death | Mentions of Suicide | Mentions of Depression (Please, do NOT read if these themes are sensible to you)

Word count 21k

Summary “Letter to No One, 22nd. Maybe it’s time I change the greetings to my letters and actually say hi to you. Dear No One. Yes, that’s better. I was looking forward to writing this one. Tomorrow we’ll be my 100th jump. Can you believe it? It seems only yesterday that I bought my very first suit. Time really flies. I think I’ll have to celebrate. I’d celebrate with you, if only you existed. We could have gone to the amusement park and enjoy some rides. Haneul used to really like those. She would have liked you too. Well ... the “you” I imagine, anyways. Have I ever told you you’re a girl? I guess I did at some point. You’re a girl No One. You don’t really have a face, but I guess you could be beautiful. Cool, too. You have to be cool to willingly read my weird letters. But again, you don’t exist. I’m starting to wish you did though. It would be nice to have someone to be with tomorrow - someone who knows. Like you.”

A/N This one was really difficult to write, reason why it took me so long to publish it. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting! I’d really appreciate your feedback! Thank you! (This has yet to be edited)

Someone (AU)

©️ dfdph, 2020 - All rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

1998

Letter to Haneul.

    Hello. My name is Jeon Jungkook. I’m 7 years old. I have black hair and black eyes. My favorite color is blue. 

     Today is a very important day because my little sister is born. Her name is Haneul. It means heaven and sky. I don’t know what Jungkook means. I am going to ask mom. Mom says it was my grandfather’s name. I like Haneul better. 

     Haneul has black hair like me. She doesn’t want to open her eyes so I don’t know their color. She’s really small. She cries a lot too. She’s very noisy. I don’t think I like her. Mom says I have to like her because she’s my sister. She also says that I’m a big brother now. I am the tallest of my class. 

     I don’t know what to write anymore.

     Bye.

    Most of the wooden floor was covered in small, little, colorful clothes and unmatched shoes. The woman leaning by the door, watching the scene unfold before her eyes, had by now given up on the idea of having to tide up the room by herself. Again. Since her little daughter turned 4 earlier that month, it became customary to have the small bedroom immersed in complete chaos at least two times a day. She tried to fight it, at first, getting angry and frustrated to the point of crying, but it was of no use. Y/N was just so stubbornly cute.

    Apparently, 4 was the age kids learned how to dress by themselves. What her own kid seemed to be oblivious about was color coordination - or style coordination for that matter. She was able to wear a red polka dots sweatshirt over black and white pants and yellow rain boots and totally own it. She really was cute.

    This morning was just the same. Five minutes before they had to leave for Preschool and the little girl was still choosing her outfit.

    “Y/N. Come on, your dad is waiting.”

    “A minute, Mama.” the girl responded, finally picking up a green hoodie to go with her pink gown. She put it on giddily before turning to her mother with an expecting smile.

    The woman couldn’t help but smile back at her. “You are the cutest little girl in the world.” she sighed, helping her put the backpack on her shoulders. “And the messiest, too! Go on, before you get late. I have to clean your room.”

    “Bye, bye, Mama!” Y/N screamed running to the door. “Love you!”

1999

Letter to Haneul

    Hi, my name is Jeon Jungkook. I’m 8 years old. My mom is making me write this letter. 

     Today is Haneul’s birthday. She’s my sister. She turns 1. She doesn’t know how to read so I don’t know why I have to write this. My mom just hit me. She’s a little bit stressed. It’s a word adults use when they are very tired and grumpy. She’s been organizing Haneul’s birthday party for weeks. 

     I don’t think she can remember it. She can’t even talk. She just makes weird sounds. She’s very loud. She also bites all of my pencils. I can’t do my homework anymore. 

     Mom is screaming at me again. She says I have to help set the table. 

     Happy Birthday, Haneul. Bye, Jungkook

     P.S. Mom says I have to say I love you to Haneul. I love you, Haneul.

    The woman was enjoying her first moment of peace since the day started, when a whispered shout called her name. She sighed heavily before putting down her tea and turning her head towards the corridor. Her husband was waving at her frantically, his eyes big as saucers.

    “What?” the woman asked in annoyance.

    “Come! Come here!” he shrieked.

    The woman closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. She stood up from the coach and unwillingly walked to her husband. As soon as he reached him, the man caught her wrist and forcefully pulled her towards their daughters bedroom. They leaned over the door and peaked inside the small room.

    Y/N was, as always, sitting on the messy floor surrounded by her collection of Barbie dolls and Barbie outfits - a lot of them. She was talking by herself, moving the toys around.

    “So what?” the mother whispered wearily. “She’s playing.”

    The man shook his head with energy. “No. Look!”

    The woman looked back at their daughter with another sigh. The little girl had a Barbie doll with a long ponytail in one hand and a Ken doll in the other. She was making them walk towards each other while speaking something unintelligible. And then she put their faces together in a kiss.

    “See that?!” her husband shrieked. “Did you see that?”

    The woman couldn’t help but giggle at his husband’s antics. “What? It’s cute.”

    “Cute?!” he gasped. “She’s making them kiss!”

    “So?” she smiled walking back to the living room, her husband right behind her.

    “She’s five!” he said sitting heavily on the couch. “Where did she even learn that?”

    The woman picked her cup of tea back again, still sniggering. “Us? Cartoons?”

    “Well, we’ll never kiss in front of her ever again. And don’t we have the parental control on?” he muttered angrily turning on their TV.

    “You’re aware that all the Disney Princesses movies end with a kiss, right?”

    The man furrowed his brows. “That’s it. She’ll go back to Teletubbies tomorrow.”

2002

Dear Haneul,

     Happy birthday!

     This year I started Middle School, I’m a big boy now. You’re only four and you still don’t know how to read. I’ve told this to mom. Again. But she said I still have to do it. She doesn’t even give my letters to you!

     Anyways, another year has passed and you’re still annoying. I’m writing this in my room, so mom can’t read. Haneul, you are really annoying. I liked you better when you didn’t know how to talk. Now that’s all you do. And scream. Do you know that you scream a lot? And could you stop stealing my stuff? Their mine, don’t touch them. You’ve lost a lot of my colored pencils and ruined most of my notebooks.

     I love you, though. It’s a big brother thing. I can’t help it.

     I hope you like my present. I bought it with the money Auntie Ahreum gave me my birthday. 

     Bye. Jungkook

     The ballet studio was small but modern, the wooden floor was perfectly polished and the mirror wall had just been cleaned. Waiting outside the door were ten little girls in their cute pink tutus accompanied by their parents. Today was the first dance class of the year and everyone was quite excited.

     Y/N, on the other hand, was also feeling nervous. She was waiting at the end of the corridor with her mother, her hand playing anxiously with the tulle of her gown.

     “What’s wrong, dear?” the woman asked sweetly.

     “Nothing.” the little girl shook her head.

     “Are you nervous?”

     Y/N bit her lower lip and slowly nodded. “A little bit.”

     Her mother smiled. “That’s okay. It happens when someone starts a new adventure.”

     “Yeah?” the girl looked up at her mother. 

     The woman nodded. “Yeah. But it’s a good thing.”

     “Why is that?”

     “Because nervousness comes along with things we don’t know. But learning new things is important. And fun, right?”

     Y/N thought about it for a minute before smiling to the woman again. “Right. I like learning new things.”

     At that moment, the ballet teacher, a young woman in her twenties, clapped her hands t gather everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone! Let’s begin today’s class! Come on in!”

     “See you later, Mama.” Y/N said after taking a deep breath.

     “See you later, honey. I’ll be back in an hour. Have fun!”

2004

Dear Haneul,

     Happy birthday, little sister!

     You’re turning six, you are getting big too! Since I turned a teenager this year, I have a lot of experience in life and I have a lot of things to teach you.

     Don’t tell mom, but I gave my first kiss the other day. We share a lot of classes together and she’s really cute. It was nice, I think. I’m going to kiss her again a lot.

     You, on the other hand, are not going to kiss anyone until you’re thirty. Dad is right, boys have lice! I know that you and mom call that boy from your class your boyfriend behind our backs, but me and dad know. He says it’s only pretend, so it’s okay, but we are keeping an eye on you. I’m telling you, Haneul. No boyfriends until you’re old and wrinkly. 

     And another thing. I know you are the one who ate all of my chocolate biscuits. I saw the crumbs on your bed. So I hid your favorite Barbie inside dad’s old hiking boots. I’m telling you this because mom doesn’t read these letters anymore, I’ve seen her putting them in a box with the others she made me write every year. So she’ll never find out.

     Love you a little bit. Big bro.

     For Y/N’s tenth birthday her parents gave her the permission to have a sleepover party and to go to bed late. Her mom prepared all different kind of snacks, sweets and juices while Y/N decorated the living room with her father. She invited all her friends from dance class and her best friends from school, and soon the house was filed with the girls’ giggly voices and screams. 

     After dinner, they planned to watch all the Disney Princesses movies, starting from Snow White. By the time they reached The Little Mermaid they’ve finished all the goods her mom had prepared and - being her parents in their room watching their own movie and them being strangely too polite to want to disturb them - decided it was a great idea to cook some popcorn on their own. Needless to say, it didn’t go well.

     Her mother and father rushed to the living area at the awful smell of smoke and at the sudden wailing. What they found was pure chaos. The girls - all fifteen of them - were hustling up and down the kitchen, some opening the windows, other crouched on the floor and other fanning their hands and blowing over the smoking microwave.

     “Oh my God! What happened!” the woman gasped running to her daughter and to the other girls standing in front of the oven. “Are you okay?”

     Y/N looked at her mother aghast. “Mama! I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to!”

     “It was an accident!” another girl said.

     The woman took a better look at her surroundings, the children now unmoving in front of her, and couldn’t help but sigh. Burnt, dark popcorn was on every surface of the room - starting from the counter to the floor. Inside the microwave were not one but three smoking popcorn bags forcefully stacked one next to the other. Clearly, their plan didn’t went well.

     Y/N’s mother heard her husband quietly giggle by the door. “Wanted some popcorn, girls?”

     “We’re so sorry!”

     “We don’t know what happened!”

     “It was an accident!”

     Just like every girl her age who felt guilty, Y/N felt her eyes starting to water. “I’m sorry, Mama.” she sniffled.

     The woman smiled sweetly at her and caressed her cheek. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asked in the gentlest of tones.

     “We didn’t want to disturb you.” the little girl responded, gazing down at her feet. “Are you mad?”

     Her mother shook her head. “I’m not, but you should have asked for my help. You girls could have been hurt.”

     “How about you girls go back in the living room, we and Mrs. Y/L/N take care of this mess and bring you two big bowls of hot - unburnt - popcorn?” Y/N’s father said smiling at the girls closest to him.

     Once the two adults were alone in the kitchen, they couldn’t help but laugh quietly between themselves.

    “They could have burned the whole house.” the woman said, cleaning the microwave.

     “They definitely could have.”

2005

Dear Haneul,

     Another year has passed and it’s once again time to write my annual birthday letter to you. Mom has finally told me what she wants to do with all of them. She’s collecting every letter and planning to give them to you for your 16th birthday. I think it’s stupid. You’re only seven, I did the math, that’s still 9 years! That means I will be forced to write another fourteen letters that you wont even read till I’m 23!

     Told you it was stupid. Can you imagine what a boring gift this would be?

     In any case, happy birthday, little sister.

     This year has been quite full for you, hasn’t it? You finally took off your training wheels from your bike, you started dance class and you broke your arm playing stupid in the park. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. It must have hurt a lot. But look at the bright side, your cast is the most colorful and beautiful in the world thanks to my drawings. 

    I also wanted to tell you that you did great at your dance recital. I know I said you looked like a broomstick, but I was lying. It’s my job as your older brother to tease you. You were actually the best among all of the other girls, without doubt.

     That being said, you’re still annoying. Especially when you bring your little friends at home and you start to giggle and wiggle around. Or when you disturb me and the guys while we are playing video games. I mostly find you annoying when mom makes me stay home to babysit you. Please, grow up quickly.

     Happy birthday, Haneul. 

     Love you a little bit, your cool big bro.

     It was a feeling completely new to Y/N. Everytime she saw the boy she would feel some kind of pressure in her chest and her cheeks would start to redden. She would find herself staring at him in the middle of the corridor or during class and would frequently stop herself a second before sighing in awe.

     His name was Kim Taehyung and he was the coolest boy Y/N had ever known. He wasn’t exactly the smartest but he wasn’t that bad either. For sure, he was the most amicable. He seemed to be friends with everyone in their year and was always seen smiling left and right - even the teachers were fond of him.

     Y/N liked the way he would wear his cap backwards or the way he would skate around the corridors against school rules. But what she liked the most was his boxy smile - it could make her heart beat fast as if she was on a roller coaster. 

     She didn’t tell her friends about the weird thing that was happening to her - just because she didn’t know what that thing was. Before Taehyung, in all of her eleven years of age, she never thought much about boys, they were just - well - just boys. But since she met him earlier that year, on the first day of Middle School, Y/N felt something changing.

     One day she saw the boy speaking with one of her best friends. They were sitting beside one another on a bench and were laughing together about something he had said. Just like that, Y/N suddenly felt angry and she didn’t know why. For the rest of the day she was cranky towards her friend and ended up fighting with her for no reason at all.

     It was while watching an episode of the new series on Disney Channel, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, where one of the main characters had his heart broken during a high school party inside a hotel, that Y/N solved the mystery.

     Kim Taehyung was Y/N’s first crush.

2007

Dear Haneul,

     Happy birthday, little sister! Time is really running fast, you’re already nine.

     This year I really want to start my letter by saying how sorry I am I revealed Santa is not real. I was fighting with mom and you kept screaming in my ears ... it just came out. I really am sorry, please start talking to me again. It’s weird not having you around me all the time. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll even take you on the bike with me - without telling mom, of course. She’d kill me.

     I know you’d like it. You always enjoyed the fast rides in the amusement park. Riding the bike is just the same. The wind, the speed and the roaring of the engine - it’s fantastic, Haneul. It was worth the two months mom grounded me and dad for buying it behind her back. 

     And, let me tell you, since I bought the bike my popularity in high school has risen to new levels. Girls love the whole bad boy mood I have going - not that I am, you know that, I just like the attention. But don’t worry, you and mom are the only girls in my life.

    I hope you know that I love you even if we fight all the time. It’s just what brothers do. Know that I’ll be here whenever you need me, that I’ll protect you against anything and that I will always be your cool big brother. 

     Have I ever told you I like it when you call me like that? I know I started it on my own, but you picking it up was great. 

     Love you lots, Jungkook.

     The date went beautifully. They met in front of the cinema, both perfectly on time and dressed for the occasion. The boy paid for her ticket, despite Y/N’s - feeble complaint -, and for their popcorn and cola, like a real gentlemen. Neither of them paid real attention to the movie, both too aware of the other’s every small movement. By the second half of the movie he finally gathered the courage to take her hand in his, making Y/N’s heart flutter. If she struggled to concentrate before, now it was totally out of question. 

     At the end of the night, the two teenagers walked together to the bus stop, talking about school, homework and their hobbies. The embarrassment was palpable in the air, neither of them used to these kind of conversations, being this their first date - ever. They were only thirteen after all. 

     There was a moment, while they were waiting for their respective buses, when they didn’t know what to talk about anymore and an awkward silence fell between them. 

     Y/N’s mind was racing. She had always been on the timid side - in fact, she was quite surprised when the boy had asked her out on a date. They barely talked to each other, they only just exchanged a few smiles and a few hellos in the corridors. Y/N had no idea the boy found her interesting. And that morning, when she found the boy waiting in front of her locker, Y/N almost hyperventilated.

     He was really cute, there was no denying that, and he always had quite an effect on her. But, too shy and insecure to confess her feelings, she settled for daydreaming. She never thought it possible for him to reciprocate.

     And now they were standing side by side, just a feet away from each other, without knowing what to do and fidgeting with their hands. 

     Should she take his hand? He was the one who did it first, maybe he was waiting for her to act. Should she say something? But she didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t very talkative in the first place. The moment to part their ways was fast approaching, one of their buses was due to arrive. Were they supposed to hug? To shake hands? Or just go?

     The dilemma was solved by the boy himself who had finally gathered his courage. He took her hand again, making her jump, gasp and blush all together.

     “Sorry.” she murmured embarrassed.

     The boy smiled. “It’s okay. You’re cute.”

     Y/N looked down at her feet, self-conscious. “Thanks. I think you’re cute too.”

     “Thanks.” the boy said. He took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

     She looked up at him, eyes as saucers and her heart hammering inside her chest. Kiss? She never kissed anyone before, not even a peck on the cheek, and definitely never a boy. Truth be told, she never even hugged a boy properly.

     Nevertheless, she slowly nodded her head.

     She watched as he took a step towards her, wetting his lips. She closed her eyes automatically, waiting. She could feel him so close, he smelled like freshly washed clothes and something minty - she liked it. She heard him took another deep breath. And then she felt it. His lips on hers. It was so feeble at first that she could have mistaken it for the wind, but then he pressed just a little bit harder and the kiss was complete. Y/N felt her lips tingling, she tightened her grip on his hand and held her breath unconsciously. 

     They stayed like that for an indefinite amount of time, barely moving. A boy and a girl sharing a simple but magic moment at the bus stop.

     Thinking back at that afternoon, Y/N felt very fortunate. After all, she had shared her first kiss with none other that her long time crush, Kim Taehyung.      

2010

Dear Haneul,

     Happy birthday, little sister. I love you. 

     I know you don’t feel like celebrating this year. I understand. That’s okay, we’ll just spend some time together, you and me. We’ll watch your favorite movies and eat your favorite snacks. I’ll try baking a small cake, I’ve never tried but I’ll do my best. I’m sorry, I know it’s not the same.

     I’m really sorry, Haneul. 

     I promise I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about anything. I promise it will be fine. We will be fine.

     We will, wont we?

     Why did it have to happen to us? To them? 

     It’s like no other pain I’ve ever known. I think I’m lost without them, I didn’t know how much I needed them. I’ve taken it all for granted. 

     I can’t imagine living without mom and dad. Without her cooking or without his silly jokes. I can still see them walking around the house sometimes, but I know it’s only my imagination. The house is empty now.

     It hurts so much, Haneul. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.

     And you? You’re just a girl. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to learn about death this young. You’re supposed to be carefree and happy. To think about nothing but simple things. But I see how you’ve already changed. I haven’t seen your smile in so long, Haneul. I miss it.

    I miss them. They were the greatest parents anyone could wish for. 

    Do you remember that time we went to that cabin by the lake for the weekend? I think you were ten back then. There was a storm and it caused a blackout. You were scared and you started crying. Dad started a fire on the fireplace and mom built a big tent with the chairs and the blankets. We played Monopoli all night and ate mom’s blueberry muffins. 

     And do you remember last year when I brought Lisa home for the first time? Mom didn’t like her one bit and she fed her overcooked broccoli? Turned out she was right about her. 

     How about that time I went bungee jumping with dad? I think mom screamed harder than we did and she wasn’t even the one jumping. Dad even promised to take you one day, remember?

     I miss them so much.

     How are we suppose to go on without them? We shouldn’t be. They should have seen us grow up, achieve our dreams and build our own families. Me and dad were supposed to hate all of your boyfriends together. Mom was suppose to cry at my graduation or at my wedding. We were supposed to see them grow old and take care of them like they did for us. 

     I hate that man. He killed them. I don’t care if he died too. He took all of it away from us. It was his fault. 

     He should have died alone.

      Just as every Saturday afternoon, Y/N was in Yoongi’s bedroom playing PES ‘10. She wasn’t exactly great at it, but it was the only video game she liked among her best friend’s collection. 

     The two had met at the beginning of the past school year. Y/N had arrived late for her math class one day and caught the teacher in a very bad mood - she almost cried that afternoon because it was her very first time getting detention and according to all the movies she had seen, it was reserved for bad people with dark clothes, piercings and black makeup. Yoongi - who had to say after hours because he was caught making faces at the teacher - was indeed dressed in all black and had an ear piercing, but he was in no way a bad person. On the contrary, seeing Y/N uncomfortable, he had been very friendly and had exchanged secret funny notes throughout the hour. And somehow, the good student and the troublemaker clicked. Since then, Y/N went to detention a total of three other times for being late and Yoongi ... well, he stopped counting. 

      “So ... you didn’t tell me how your special date went yesterday.”, the boy said while easily taking away the ball from Y/N’s player.

      “Just like always.” Y/N shrugged. 

      Yoongi looked at her sideways, doubtful. “You’ve just gotten all red.”

     “No, I didn’t!” she exclaimed, nervously pressing on the buttons of the joystick and biting on her lower lip.

     “You definitely are!” he responded, putting the game on pause and looking straight at his friend. “What happened?”

     “Nothing!” she shouted, jumping on his bed and hiding her boiling cheeks.

     Yoongi’s eyes widen at her antics, he stood up abruptly and went to close his bedroom door. “Something happened. Talk.”

     Y/N hid her face under the pillow. “You’re such a girl!”

     “Yes. I want to know all the gossip.” he admitted, sitting beside her. “Is it good or bad?”

     “Good, I guess.” she responded, her voice muffled. 

     “Don’t tell me ...” he gasped. “You had sex with him, didn’t you?!” 

     Y/N sat up straight in a rush and covered his mouth with a hand. “Lower your voice, would you?”

     Yoongi moved her hand away and looked agape at her. “You did!” he esclaimed. “You’re not a virgin anymore!”

     “Oh my God!” she cried. “Lower your voice!”

     Y/N let herself fall back on the mattress and covered her face with the pillow again. She wasn’t planning on telling Yoongi the news just yet, she wanted to keep it for herself for a little while, just to assimilate it. 

     She had indeed lost her virginity with her eight months boyfriend and the night stirred so many emotions that she had yet to absorb them all. He was sweet, romantic and very gentle, and Y/N knew that her first time went as dreamily as it could have gone. Truly a night to remember. She felt her cheeks blushing even harder, thinking back at what had happened.

     Yoongi watched his best friend suffocate herself under his pillow. He was, indeed, waiting for this moment to come, since the two seemed very much in love, but he was nevertheless caught by surprise.

     “You lost your virginity to high school heartthrob Kim Seokjin.” he declared.

     “Shut up!”

2011

Dear Haneul, 

     You’re a teenager now! Before I know it you’ll be a woman. The time to give you these letters is getting closer. I realized that I’ve started to look forward to writing to you, even if you aren’t going to see them until you’re sixteen. I can’t wait to read them together.

     I miss you so much. I know that we speak almost everyday at the phone, but it’s not the same. I worry that you feel lonely over there with aunt Ahreum. I know she’s great but she’s still - well, aunt Ahreum.

     Thank you, Haneul. It must have been very hard on you, letting me go. I know it was selfish of me wanting to go back to college. I didn’t want to at first, but everyone kept saying I needed the normality, that I didn’t have to put a stop on my future. It didn’t feel right leaving you with our aunt while I went on with my life, but you’ve been so supportive. You’re just a girl, but you’re already so mature. And I’m sorry for that. You shouldn’t understand the meaning of loss and sacrifice yet.

     Aunt Ahreum said you’re going really well at school. I had no doubt, of course. You’ve always been smart. And she said you started talking about going back to dance class. I hope you do, I know how much you liked it. 

     I know it’s hard, but let’s try to live as normally as possible.

     College is going good. My grades aren’t bad, I’m just a little bit late because of everything that happened. I might have to graduate a year late, but it’s okay.

     I did a cool thing with some friends yesterday. Skydiving. We went up to the sky with a small plane and then jumped from it with parachutes - with instructors, of course. It was amazing. Indescribable. The adrenaline before the jump, the view underneath you, the wind surrounding every part of your body. The fall was ... I felt free. From everything, from every thought. 

     It was nothing like bungee jumping. 

     I flew, Haneul. I really did - like a bird.

     I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again. Truth be told, I was thinking about getting a license, go to skydiving school, you know? But it’s just an idea. But the feeling was so addicting, Haneul. It was pure freedom. I really have to do it again. And maybe one day I’ll take you with me. Believe me, if you liked the bike - this is really something else. You might get scared at first, but I know you’re a brave little girl. You’re my sister, after all.

    I really do miss you, you know? I miss bickering with you and your hugs, I miss those so much.

     It’s okay, we’re going through this. As they say, time heals everything. We just have to wait. I’ll graduate, find a job and take you back. We’ll live together again and we’ll have so much fun. I promise.

     I’m sorry for how I ended last year’s letter. I was angry. I am not anymore. I think I’m slowly coming to terms with mom and dad’s death. I guess everyone was right, after all. I really needed some normality. I’m sorry that I had to leave you behind. But I guess your life has to go on too. 

     Yes. School, dance class, your friends. That’s what you need. Your own normality.

     We got this. 

     I love you so much, I can’t wait to see you during the holidays. I’ll bring you lots of gifts and we’ll do lots of stuff together.

     Your - trying to be cool again - brother, Jungkook.

     Since she found out that her first love had been cheating on her over the last month - and since Yoongi had bitten the hell out of him - Y/N went through a drastic change. Maybe ‘drastic’ wasn’t the right way to put it - let’s just say that a side of her had taken over the other. 

     The first thing she did after getting through the five stages of grief was to cut her hair short. This small action gave her some newfound confidence. Turned out, in fact, that the new hairstyle suited her very much and it gained her more than a few glances from the boys of her school. She also started dressing different, somehow adopting Yoongi’s style and preferring dark clothes over her old colorful ones. At last, to her best friend’s delight and her mother’s shock, she decided to get her ear pierced and was now the proud owner of a helix - nothing major, but it felt great nonetheless.

      Her new image came with a discovery. She was beautiful. Not that she felt ugly before or that Seokjin ever made her feel so. She just never gave too much thought about her appearance.  

     And with this new awareness, Y/N lost her timidness, she started feeling bolder and, above all, curious. She started going to parties with Yoongi, had a few one-night-stands, got drunk and made new friends.

     Junior year was Y/N’s year. Her grades were going great, she applied to a writing class that she adored, she started working for the school newspaper, and her popularity had risen to new levels. 

     All in all, her break up with Seokjin did her more good than bad.

     “Wanna go with me to watch the new Fast & Furious movie tomorrow?” Yoongi asked Y/N from across the table of the school cafeteria.

     “I have my writing class tomorrow, remember? Besides, you know I don’t like that saga.” 

     “Okay, they’re not Oscar worthy but they’re fun.” the boy responded, putting a fry in his mouth. “How’s your class going?”

     “Great!” Y/N exclaimed. “We’re trying journalistic writing this month and I like it a lot. And the fact that I’m working for the newspaper is helping too. Actually,” she paused to give a nasty look at her ex who just entered the cafeteria. “I’ve been thinking about taking Journalism.”

     Yoongi arched a brow. “You barely read the newspaper before joining the school’s.”

      “I really enjoy it now.” Y/N pointed out. “I want to investigate, interview and cover important stories. I want to win a damn Pulitzer.”

      The boy thought about it for a second. “Are you sure? Seems a stressful life to me, you’ll have to respect deadlines forever.” 

      “That’s really the less important problem.”

      “Right, it could be dangerous too. You’ll have to talk with bad people, might get on their wrong side and get killed.” he jokingly tried to intimidate her. “And isn’t journalism a very competitive job. It’ll take you years before getting a Pulitzer, if ever.”

     Y/N shook her head stealing him a french fry. “You never know. I might get lucky.”

2012

Dear Haneul,

    This is my 14th birthday letter to you - not counting the one I wrote the day you were born. You were so small back then. A little nugget. I remember you had a whole lot of black hair already. And you used to cry all the time, it was exasperating. But you’re not an annoying little girl anymore. Well, that’s not true - you’re still annoying. No, ok, you’re really not. You are the sweetest, kindest and bravest little sister in the world. And I wish I’ve told you sooner. I wish I’ve told you more how much I love you. How much you mean to me.

    Haneul, I truly love you.

    I’ve missed you so much these years. I wish I didn’t go to college at all and wasted all this time. I should have stayed with you, I shouldn’t have left you alone. I should have spent all the time I had seeing you grow up. I’ve been so selfish. I lost so much time, Haneul. And now ...

    What am I supposed to do? What am I going to do, Haneul? I don’t know what to do without you. You’re all I have left.

    How can life be so cruel? Weren’t our parents enough? Now you? You’re just a little girl. You haven’t lived yet. You still need to see everything about the world. You have so much to do. So much to learn.

    I wanted to teach you a lot of things. I wanted to teach you how to drive or to deal with naughty boys. I wanted to see you graduate high school, apply for college, get your first job. I promised to take you skydiving one day. I wanted to get jealous about your first boyfriend, fight with you because you like wearing short gowns too much or help you buy your first car. I wanted to walk you down the aisle, to babysit your kids. I wanted to see you become a woman. 

    I wanted to do all the simple things. I’ve taken all of it for granted. I didn’t learn anything from when mom and dad died. I’ve been so stupid. I abandoned you to follow my own dreams. Could you ever forgive me?

    You didn’t deserve this. You deserved the brightest of lives.

    I can’t believe this is happening. Nothing about this is fair. This is pure bullshit. Why you? Why us?

    I don’t know what to do. I’ve prayed, everyday, but I feel like no one listened. No one ever did.

    I’m so scared, Haneul. I’m sure you’re aware. I’ve tried being cheerful around you, but you’re not stupid, I know you see past my lies. You’re the brave one between us, not me. You seem to have accepted all of this. Did you really? You’re only 14, how can you be so mature?

    I really am sorry. I wish it was me. I really do. I would do anything to give you all the years I have left to live - and more. I wish I was the one suffering and not you. I hate seeing you like this.

    I hate this. I hate the hospital, i hate the doctors, i hate the nurses. I hate everyone. Why can’t they save you?

     I can’t deal with this again. It hurts so much.

    Please forgive me. You deserved better from me.

    I love you so much.

    Please don’t leave me.

    The football field was filled with perfectly aligned white plastic chairs, red thin ribbons beautifully laced on their backs. A simple wooden podium had been prepared, the mic already connected to the speakers. The stands were full of people: family, friends and members of the high school faculty. Everything was ready for the graduation ceremony of the Class of 2012.

    Y/N was waiting on the sidelines with her friends, all dressed in their navy blue graduation gowns. They were all bouncy on their feet with excitement, some playing with the tassels of their cap and others biting their nails absentmindedly. Even Yoongi, always composed, couldn’t keep still.

    “Can you believe it? High school is finally over!” Y/N jumped up and down around him.

    The boy smiled back at her soft short curls dancing in the wind. “You’re ruining your hairstyle.”

    Y/N stopped in front of him, grabbed his arm and looked him seriously in the eyes. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

    Yoongi rolled his eyes at her. “Of course I’m happy. Who wouldn’t be?”

    “I have to admit, though.” she said, letting him go and watching the teachers sitting down one by one on their seats. “A part of me is gonna miss this place. You know what I mean?”

    “Yeah.” the boy sighed.

    Their high school years had been undeniably good. They made a lot of memories in four years. They had their share in adventures, fights, dramas and fun. They lived the picture-perfect teenage life - the good, the bad and anything in between.

    At that moment, their history teacher, Mrs. Han, started to call them by their surnames, a long list on her hands. The ceremony was about to start.

    “See you later, Yoongi.”

    The function was long but all in all enjoyable. The school principal spoke very inspiring words and their valedictorian’s speech made Y/N tear up. When she walked up the stadium to get her diploma, she had a big smile plastered on her face and waved energetically at her family on the stands - her father was, as always, filming everything with his old video camera.

    Throwing the cap in the air gave her the best feeling ever - of freedom and accomplishment. In those few seconds Y/N felt an adult for the first time. She couldn’t wait to start her new life. She wasn’t scared of the challenges and the new responsibilities to come, she felt ready.

    That night, laying side by side with Yoongi on her bed after their graduation party, half drunk and still euphoric, Y/N stared up at the ceiling and couldn’t help but acknowledge that this was probably the happiest she’d ever felt in her 18 years of life. It seemed foolish at first, she just graduated after all. But she didn’t felt like this even with her first kiss or the night she lost her virginity. This was something different. This was all on her, this was her own accomplishment.

    So yes, as stupid as it might sound, Y/N felt damn happy.

2013    

Dear Haneul,

    I don’t know what to say.

    I miss you.

    You won’t even read this. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I guess it feels strange not to. You didn’t even read the ones before this one. I kept delaying, keeping with mom’s plan. I guess in my head, giving you your birthday letters would have been too definitive. It would have meant you weren’t going to be able to celebrate your sixteenth birthday. Deep inside, I still had hope.

     I should have given them to you.

    Are you happy up there? Are you with mom and dad? I really hope you’re not alone.

    It’s been hard down here. It still is. I’m trying my best, though. I keep saying to myself that that’s what you’d want me to do. But, to be honest, it’s just bullshit from books and movies. It sucks.

    I feel so empty sometimes. And sometimes i feel too much. There’s nowhere in between.

    The only thing that makes it a little better is the thought that you’re not suffering anymore. You always smile in my memories. Everytime I think of you, it’s always your smile. I really miss it. I miss all of you.

    I feel so lonely, Haneul. Sometimes I get mad at you, at mom and dad - for leaving me here alone. I know it’s unfair of me, but I can’t help it.

    And sometimes it gets really hard... Sometimes i wish you’d taken me with you.

     I’m sorry. It’s just that there are days when I don’t feel special enough to be the one alive.

    I left college. I know that I was really close to graduating but with everything that happened I just couldn’t keep my focus and at the end ... it just felt useless. Mom would have thrown a fit if she was here.

     I stayed with aunt Ahreum for awhile, but I didn’t want to be a burden so now I leave in a small apartment in the suburbs. Besides, we weren’t doing each other any good. At first, I thought that since we were going through the same stuff, it would be easier, but I was wrong. We tried so hard to pretend that we were not hurting, for the other’s sake, that we ended up hurting even more.

     We both agreed we needed help. We can’t do this on our own. I never liked psychologists, but I’m going to try. I’m trying to keep myself from spiraling. 

     The sky has become my safe haven.

     I finally got my skydiving license earlier this year and I’ve been diving almost every couple of weeks since then. I know I shouldn’t be using mom and dad’s money like this, but whenever I’m up there I feel better. Every free fall is liberating - I feel closer to you. I pretend that the wind is mom’s arms lulling me and I feel at peace. And everytime I feel that tug a second after opening the parachute I imagine it’s dad’s hand pulling me back to life. 

     Aunt Ahreum doesn’t like it, she thinks it’s too dangerous. Maybe it is. But after all I’ve been through I understood a thing. Nothing is certain in life, there is no way to know what will happen tomorrow. And I don’t want to have any regrets. 

     I also made friends with my instructor. I guess it comes with the weekly jump. He’s a cool guy in his thirties and he’s been working in the skydiving center since he was eighteen. He actually suggested I’d apply for a job in the school. I am no way experienced enough to be an instructor myself, but I could work in the office or something. At least all of my Business Management knowledge won’t go to waste.

     I don’t hate the idea. And maybe, someday, I could think about being an instructor too.

     I feel guilty sometimes - dreaming about the future when you had none. I feel like I don’t deserve it as much as you did. The possibility of being able to move on scares me. Sometimes I think that this pain is all I’m left with and I’m so used to it now that I’m not sure I want to get rid of it. What’s there other than pain?

     Happiness? Is it possible to be happy again?

     Today I think it is. But today is today. 

     Happy birthday, little sister. I love you with all that’s left of me. Say hi to mom and dad, okay?

     Your not so cool anymore brother, Jungkook.

     Yoongi couldn’t find Y/N. She was dancing right beside him a second before and now she was gone. He stumbled through the crowd, trying not to pour what was left of his drink onto someone. It wasn’t easy. The living room of his frat house was so crowded that he couldn’t see an inch of the floor and the music was so loud that he couldn’t even hear his own voice screaming his friend’s name. The fact that everyone was wearing black wasn’t helping his search either.

     He was, of course, also very drunk. But that was customary during Beta Tau Sigma’s parties - or any party really. What was unusual and totally dangerous was Y/N leaving his side while inebriated. Since the first time Y/N got seriously drunk in senior year, Yoongi learned that whenever she exceeded her limit of two cocktails and three shots she would embody an abandoned golden retriever puppy who had just been rescued from the street. One time she even hugged his leg and looked up at him with a pout for no reason whatsoever in front of the whole swimming team. Another time she spent half of the party hugging him from behind like a leech, keeping him from getting lucky with that one cheerleader.

     The worst one was the now legendary Welcoming Party held by BTS a few months past. Yoongi, who wanted to make a good first impression on his new frat brothers and wanted to avoid anything embarrassing, sensing Y/N’s alter ego on her way, decided to steer clear from his friend as long as he could. As a result, drunk Y/N - feeling lonely and in need of cuddles - found her best friend’s substitute in Kim Namjoon who happened, not only to be the very popular president of the frat, but to have left his longtime girlfriend just that afternoon. It was a total nightmare, of course. The girl saw the two of them hugging and went berserk, thinking that he had left her to finally be with his lover - without shame, nonetheless.

     Y/N ended up with a broken wrist, the other girl dislocated two of her fingers and Yoongi and Namjoon, who tried breaking up the fight, gathered more than a few scratches and bruises. Unsurprisingly, the fight was the only thing the whole campus would talk about for weeks on end - Y/N never wanted to disappear so badly. But on the bright side, Yoongi earned a new friend in Namjoon.

     Since then, Yoongi promised himself to never run from drunk Y/N ever again. So, it was now crucial to find her. Fortunately enough he was able to recognize Park Jimin, a fellow frat brother who he had grown fond of. Just like everybody else he was wearing a black T-shirt over black pants - that night’s theme was indeed Total Black -, what made him recognizable was the color of his hair, a very unique bubblegum pink.

     “Chim!” Yoongi slurred, stumbling to him. “I lost Y/N!”

     “I’m busy, Yoongles.” the boy replied, tilting his head towards the girl who looked just as drunk as him.

     “No, no, no.” he mumbled, putting both of his hands on his friend’s shoulders and almost pouring the content of his cup onto the girl. “She’s drunk! Drunk!.”

     At this, Jimin’s eyes widened and he too put his hand on the other’s shoulders. “We have to find her!

    Yoongi nodded energetically, making himself dizzy. “We have to.”

    Jimin went to look for his roommate Jung Hoseok, because the more they were looking for Y/N the better. Yoongi went back to the living room and proceeded on turning every single person around, boy or girl it didn’t matter on his drunk state.

     It took a while and as the minutes passed half the members of the fraternity had joined the search because no one wanted a repeat of that infamous night. At the end, it were the now very worried - and slightly soberer - Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok themselves who found Y/N. She was curled behind one of the bushes in their backyard, completely in the dark and alone.

     “Y/N! Finally! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Jimin said running towards her.

     The girl looked up from her knees and pouted at the boys who had crouched down beside her. Her eyes started to water and with the clumsiest jump she threw herself to the one closest to her, which was Hoseok.

     If it wasn’t for the way she started rubbing her face to his neck, the guys would have seriously worried that something bad had happened, given the circumstances in which they had found her. Fortunately, it was just drunk Y/N.

     “The dog drank my vodka!” she cried.

     “We don’t have a dog.” the boy said in unison.

2014

     This year I want to do it differently. This is my fourth attempt on writing Haneul’s birthday letter and I’ve realized that the thought that she’s the one reading it is keeping me from saying what I really want to say. It may sound absurd and crazy. I know she’s dead and that she can’t really read my words. But bear with me.

     So I’ve decided to address my letters to someone else. Someone with whom I can speak freely. Not my friends because they wouldn’t understand. Not aunt Ahreum because ... well, not her. And definitely not my therapist because she would psychoanalyze me. I know it’s her job and that if I’m not completely honest with her during our sessions it’s all pointless - but I just want someone who would just listen, who wouldn’t judge, who wouldn’t look at me with pity or as if I’m crazy. I’m aware that such a person doesn’t exist in my life, so I’m just going to pretend it does.

     I’ll call you No One because - yeah , you’re not real.

     Letter to No One, 16th.

     My name is Jeon Jungkook, I’m 23 years old and I’m probably the only one still writing letters in the 21st century. Actually, since I’m not sending them to anyone, this is more a diary than anything - one that I write on once a year. On my dead sister’s birthday.

     Let me introduce myself a little, No One. Prepare yourself because they could seriously write a biography of my life. See, a real person would think of the bright side, that surely someone has it harder than me. Well, since you are just a piece of my imagination, I feel free to say that I don’t care. Is it selfish of me? Probably, but really, I don’t care. 

     My parents died in a fucking car accident when I was 19, leaving me and my little sister alone. I was barely an adult, back then, and I can admit it now, I totally run from my responsibilities as a brother. My therapist always say that I did nothing wrong, that it was my right to go on with my life, that I had nothing to do with my sister’s death. But that’s bullshit.

     I shouldn’t have left for college, I shouldn’t have left her with aunt Ahreum. She was only twelve, she was just a kid, she needed me more than I needed myself. To make myself feel better I told myself that she was mature, that she understood, that she was doing fine without me. All lies.

     If I didn’t went to college I would have had a whole year with her before she went sick. Even if it was only a year, we would have been happy. We could have created a lot of memories together, I could have shown her how much she mattered to me. But I run away and all I have left are the memories of those few months.

     She suffered so much. I was so useless.

     She would have turned sixteen this year. Today I was supposed to give her the box hidden inside my wardrobe, all the letters I’ve been writing these years. I guess mom wanted to show her how much her brother loves her. She would be so disappointed. 

     I’m so angry all the time. At myself and at them for leaving me here alone. Sometimes I hate them. And then I feel guilty, like a fool.

     I was just a boy after all and everything was taken away from me in just a couple of years. I didn’t deserve it. They say I’m still lucky that I have a home, that I have my aunt, that I have friends, a house and a job. That I’m alive. But am I really? I feel anything but lucky.

     There are days when I feel like not opening my parachute. Sometimes I just want to close my eyes and enjoy the wind for the very last time. But I’m not brave enough.

     It’s been almost two years and I still haven’t come to terms with all of it. Maybe I’m too weak or maybe I want to wallow in my guilt.

      I’m sorry No One. Today is just a bad day. I promise it will be better next time.

     Happy Birthday to my Haneul, I guess. Happy Sweet Sixteen or whatever.

     Y/N was in the middle of a breakdown. For the third night in a row she was seated in front of her laptop, wearing the same attire, her oily hair in a messy bun and dark circles under her eyes. She was supposed to write a 20,000 words long article for her Narrative journalism class due in a week, but she was suffering the so called writer’s block and hadn’t been able to go past her 4000 words limit.

     It took only her first month in college to realize that real Journalism was nothing compared to her brief experience with the high school newspaper. Days when she would close herself in her room to write weren’t uncommon now, on the contrary they’ve become quite customary. She seemed to struggle the most with topics she liked - the more she found the subject interesting, the more she wanted to do a good job and the easiest she would get stuck.

     On days like this, there was only a person allowed inside her isolation room: her best friend Yoongi. Truth be told, he was just the only one not scared of Y/N’s hysteria and - a definite plus - he knew all of her comfort foods and always made sure to bring every single one of them during his visits. 

     Today was just the same. Yoongi was laying on Y/N’s bed while playing with his phone and munching on some chips. He just came from his Principles of Audio Technology class and he too had some work to do, but inspiration usually came to him late at night and he had by now got used to getting very few hours of sleep. 

     “Hey,” he suddenly said. “Have you heard anything from that newspaper for your internship?”

     Y/N shook her head, eyes never leaving the screen of her computer. “Not that newspaper, Yoongi. The newspaper, the one that has the highest circulation numbers since forever. That newspaper.”

     Yoongi rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, that newspaper. Have you heard from it?”

     “No, they said they would write me back in five working days time.”

     “And when was that?”

     “Last Wednesday.” she responded while angrily erasing the last sentence she wrote.

     Yoongi counted quickly in his head before sighing heavily. “What day it is today, Y/N?” he said exasperated. 

     “Thursday.” she answered readily.

     “So?” he asked, sitting up and looking annoyingly at his friend.

     “So what?”

     “Y/N, seriously. You are hopeless. You were so responsible back in high school. I think I had too much of a bad influence on you.”

     The girl frowned and finally turned around to look at her friend. “What are you talking about?”

     “Y/N,” he sighed heavily. “If they wrote to you last Wednesday and they told you to wait five working days and - follow me - today is Thursday ... How many days it’s been?”

     Y/N suddenly gasped in shock and turned quickly back to face her computer. Yoongi stood up and watched as she opened her emails. She had to scroll two pages before seeing it, since she hadn’t check her mailbox since entering her writing isolation. She clicked almost too aggressively on the link, her heart beating fast from the nervousness. This was a very great opportunity for her. If accepted, she would have the chance to work with great journalists and learn a lot from them. Not to mention it would look really good on her curriculum. Apart from her academic achievements, she had to write a cover letter and send two of her best articles. It wasn’t easy to choose from her repertoire, but after a lot of thinking she ended up selecting the one that won her first place in a big competition back in her senior year and the one that gained her a lot of praises from her Investigative Reporting professor - who was famously demanding. She hoped, by sending the two, that she would gather the interest of a very specific journalist, one that was specialized in Watchdog journalism - her personal favorite. It would be a once in a lifetime opportunity, for sure.

     Her eyes scanned the email quickly, not really reading but more looking for the magic world that would render her the happiest Journalism major in the world. Yoongi was the one to see it first and couldn’t help but smile - he had to admit, he was doubtful at first. Not of his friend’s abilities, of course. But he imagined that a lot of people had applied for the internship - some of them with a lot of connections, without doubt. 

     Y/N screamed. She couldn’t believe it. She read the sentence four times before acknowledging the fact that she had indeed been accepted.

     “Oh my God, Yoongles!” she threw her arms around him. “I made it!”

     “You did.” the boy laughed. “But Y/N, you haven’t read all of it. It says that you have to reply your confirmation within 24 hours. You better hurry.”

     “Fuck.”

2015

Letter to No One, 17th.

     I had a good day today. It might be the first time since my parents’ death that I actually feel okay on Haneul’s birthday. I’ve reached my 250th jump today. It means that I’m half way through becoming a skydiving instructor. 

     All in all, it’s been a good year. There’s been some downs, of course. During their birthdays, for example - or their death anniversaries. It’s always hard during those periods of the year. But I actually think I’m finally doing better.  It took me some time, huh? I’ve been thinking about it yesterday. It’s been already five years since the car accident that killed mom and dad, and two since Haneul died.  

     I stopped going to therapy a while ago. I changed so many therapists over the years but I saw no change, I guess it was just not for me. It was for aunt Ahreum, though. She’s been doing really good, she says she came in terms with everything that happened. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working towards it.

     Skydiving really helped me. I found my thing. I was born to fly, No One. It’s such an indescribable feeling, the one of falling through the air at more than 120 miles per hour. You see the world from a unique point of view, you can smell and feel the air, feel the pressure on your skin, the temperature changing. You can hear the wind roaring in your ears, but then once you open your parachute it’s completely quiet, peaceful. Yes, peace is the right word.

     In this past year I’ve worked towards obtaining all my licenses. Those at the skydiving center have been very supportive, they’ve become family to me, in some way.

     The more the days pass the less I think about them. Not in the way I used to anyway. I’m not mad anymore, or sad. I guess the right word is ‘melancholy’. At first I got angrier to myself, thinking that I was somewhat forgetting them. But I finally realized that this was what people meant when they say that time can heal every wound. Maybe, we as humans, are not programmed to suffer forever. Our own body erases the bad memories, the bad feelings, and leaves the longing and the sad smiles. 

     I’ve accepted it. I think.

     Now that I’m in a kind of better place, I feel a bit ashamed of myself. For the things I thought, for the things I thought about doing. They would have been disappointed in me, all three of them. 

     But the next step is to accept also those things, that those thoughts were a part of me too and that I can’t just erase them. I have to accept that I couldn’t do anything about it, none of it. That I have the right to move on and to be happy. I’m working on that now. It might take me another five years. I actually got a tattoo about it, nothing big. Just a little symbol on my wrist, to remember. A semicolon. It represents my life, the one I could have ended but didn’t.

     A new girl started working at our office. I’ve been assigned her training. She’s really cute, actually. She’s very energetic and friendly. She makes me laugh a lot. Her own laugh makes me laugh. She makes these weird sounds, like hiccups, that are adorable. And she laughs with her whole body, she have to catch herself from falling sometimes. I’ve been thinking about asking her out.

     I know, it sounds stupid even to me. I haven’t had any kind of relationship with a girl since Lisa, and that was ages ago. Lisa was my ex, by the way, No One. We were together through our whole senior year of college. She left me a month after my parents’ death, saying I had too much baggage. Or something like that.

     Wow. That was five years ago. I’ve turned back virgin and I didn’t even notice.

     I guess I really stopped living.

     I’ll try changing that. I promise No One.

     The tattoo parlour was small but very well furnished. The walls and the ceiling of the waiting room were of a soft grey, matching with the dark wooden floor; there were two black leathered couches with a modern coffee table and two big mirrors that made the room seem way bigger than it really was. On the entrance side, a full height window brightened the whole space despite the dark colors. Here and there were smartly placed modern and industrial styled objects, such as the old typewriter Y/N was currently examining. It was a new piece, she was sure of it because she had grown accustomed to the parlour over the past couple of months.

     Yoongi had set his mind on completing his arm sleeve before graduating college - he had been working on it since he was sixteen, getting a new piece every year, whenever he would gather enough money to pay for it. Y/N watched the artwork - there was no better way to call it - grew bigger and bigger, covering his whole arm, until only the small area around his wrist was left. Every tattoo complemented each other, creating a harmonious and elegant, yet intricate, black picture.

     Y/N loved it. She always thought it completed perfectly the whole bad boy aura he carried around. The ear piercings, the dark outfits, the mysterious smiles, the songwriting. Yoongi was undeniably a hot piece of man. If they hadn’t been friends for so long, and if she didn’t see him as a brother, Y/N might have given it a thought. A lot of their friends had, of course, made more than a few insinuations over the years, but both agreed that there was nothing more than friendship between them. 

     Today was Yoongi’s last session. He was sitting on the tattoo bed, his left arm resting on the arm rest while the tattoo artist worked on a very delicate drawing of a sound wave over his wrist. Being a Music Production Major, it didn’t surprise Y/N that this was what her best friend decided to complete his art work with. The message behind the tattoo was actually quite sweet: it was the audio recording of his mom saying sweetly goodnight. Yoongi had extracted it from one of the many voicemails she had sent him - he tended to ignore his phone when he was working on his music -, and he had explained that it was a reminder to never forget how it was necessary to take a pause sometimes, to take some rest and recharge, that to work hard towards one dream was important - yes - but it was even more crucial to take care of oneself. A thing that Yoongi tended to overlook most of the times. Y/N felt very proud the day he showed her the sketch of the tattoo.

     Anyways, today wasn’t special only for Yoongi. After years of back and forth Y/N had finally made up her mind and had decided to get her very first ink to celebrate her 21st birthday, and as soon as his friend was done it was her turn to sit on the black tattoo bed. To say she was anxious was an understatement.

     “Does it hurt a lot?” she asked eyeing the redness of Yoongi’s skin.

     “Yeah, well. The wrist is very sensible.” the man answered honestly. “You can have it on another place, if you want.”

     Y/N shook her head. “No, I’m doing the wrist too. I’m sure.” she said. “Besides, it won’t take too long. I can handle it.”

     Yoongi smiled. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing it.”

     “Me neither.” she smirked.

     “Can I ask you something?” the tattooist said, never taking his eyes away from his work. Y/N nodded. “Why the quotation marks?” he asked referring to the symbols she decide to mark her skin with.

     “Well, first of all I’m going to become a journalist.” Y/N answered. “So that’s an obvious meaning. When writing, quotation marks are mostly used in direct speech and in quoting. But they can also be used to draw attention to a specific word or phrase, to indicate an unusual use of a word or imply alternate meanings.” she paused, collecting her thoughts. “As I see it, quotation marks are the symbol of the writer’s power of creativity. I can put anything inside them and I’m the one deciding the meaning behind it. For example, I could write the word ‘happiness’ in quotation marks. It could mean the I’m saying that I’m happy and I want to underline it, or that I’m not happy at all and that happiness is just an illusion. Got it?”

     The two men remained silent for a moment, both thinking about it.

     “I think so.” the tattooist said hesitantly. “I asked because you’re the second person who asked for a punctuation mark this week.”

     “Really?” Y/N replied, curious. “What mark?”

     “A semicolon. But he didn’t seem keen on explaining the meaning, so I didn’t ask.”

     “A semicolon?” Yoongi repeated, frowning. “What does that mean, Y/N.”

     Y/N looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Semicolons are used to divide items on a list to more discrete parts, to make it easier for the reader to understand the sentence. Or between two related but independent clauses that are balanced or opposed. It’s a bit confusing actually. To put it simple, semicolons are used when the author could have ended the sentence, but decided not too.”

    “So something about you being the author ...” Yoongi said unsurely. “And your life being the sentence?”

     The three of them paused all together, realizing the meaning of the stranger’s tattoo.

     Y/N frowned. “That’s actually really sad.”

2016

Letter to No One, 18th.

     I got my instructor license! I’m so happy! The guys at the center even made me a surprise party. We had so much fun. They already proposed me a job and I’m going to sign the contract two days from now. I have to stop working at the office, of course. But I don’t mind. I can’t wait to leave the heavy work environment. 

     I remember writing you last year that I was thinking about asking this girl from work out. Well, I did. It went great for the first months. We went on dates, had a lot of chemistry and all that. I liked her a lot, actually. Everything seemed perfect. Until I finally gathered my courage to tell her about my family.

     As you know, it isn’t an easy subject for me. And since she was my first relationship after a very long time, I thought it was better to take things slowly. To wait until I was ready. Well, she got kinda mad at me for not telling her sooner. Something about the fact that she had every right to know of my past. I still quite don’t get it really. But maybe I’m the one at fault. Anyways we figured it out, went back to normal. But then she started doing this thing where she would ... psychoanalyze me? Yeah. Whatever I did was a subject of discussion. She would say something about ‘you did this because of your problems with this’, or ‘you should do this to get through this’. 

     There was this time when she caught me doodling on a piece of paper and she said that according to the straight lines and the sharp corners I was drawing I felt guilty about something, that I was feeling aggressive and whatnot. I’m not going to lie and say that that wasn’t true 80% of the time. But I swear, in that particular moment I was thinking about what to buy at the grocery store. I remember it clearly because I felt quite annoyed by the whole thing.

     It was as if she had decided that it was her personal mission to understand my mind and ... solve me? And she clearly wasn’t doing it because she cared about me. I think she did it because she had some problems herself too and she was actually projecting on me. As if solving my problems would solve hers too. Or maybe she was just a self centered bitch. 

     There’s a reason I stopped going to therapy. And I don’t need to be a genius to understand that having my girlfriend psychoanalyze me won’t do me any good. I think they should be separate things, but that’s just my opinion.

     Anyways, we ended things. She still works at the skydiving center though, so the things are very awkward. That’s why I can’t wait to officially become an instructor and see her as less as possible.

     On another note, I started going to the cemetery to spend some time with mom, dad and Haneul. I actually only went twice this year, but that’s still a record for me. I never visited them after their funerals. Too hard, you know? But now that I’m in a better place, I felt ready. 

    It’s a bit awkward, though. I never liked cemeteries, even when I was little. The idea that you are surrounded by decomposed bodies ... No. And a part of me always thought it was useless. I feel that - if an afterlife really exist - my loved ones wouldn’t be bound to some gravestones with their name on it, they would be able to hear me wherever I go and watch on me.

     The first time I just stood there. I didn’t think about anything, to be honest. I just read the engravings, dust of some dead leaves from their tombstones and counted the veins on the marble. I spent more time exploring the cemetery than with them. It was weird.

     The second time I went with aunt Ahreum. That went a little better. She visits them a lot, brings them flowers and chats with them. I didn’t feel like doing it myself, but it was nice watching her routine. I personally still think it’s embarrassing, speaking to their graves out loud. I won’t feel guilty saying it because it’s you, No One. I want to think that whenever I think about them, they can hear me. I think it’s enough. And it makes more sense to me.

     Haneul would be 18 today. She would have graduated, she would have started college the next year. Maybe she would have taken a degree in Performing Arts. She loved dancing. But I guess she died too young to actually develop a real working ambition.

     I promised to take her skydiving once. It would have been nice to jump in tandem with her.

     Okay. I’m getting sad again, better distract myself with something.

     Maybe with a nice cup of hot chocolate.

     Y/N had woken up early that morning - very early. Truth be told, she didn’t sleep at all. But she didn’t even bothered to cover the dark circles under her eyes with some make up, she quickly dressed up, grab her things and run out of her apartment.

     She and the boys had an appointment for breakfast at Namjoon’s favorite coffee shop, the one with the fireplace and soft armchairs. But before heading there, she had to do something.

     It took her barely half a minute of brisk walking to get to the newspaper stand at the corner of her building. She quickly payed for her purchase and fought with everything in her to not look at it. Instead, she shoved it inside her bag and started running towards the bus stop. She waited anxiously for the ride to arrive, tapping her feet and stretching her neck over the street every now and then. 

     She almost jumped out of the vehicle when it stopped in front of the coffee shop. She opened the store’s door and with sure steps she headed towards the fireplace. If she knew her friends well, they wouldn’t have thought twice on which table to seat. This early in the morning the place was almost empty, anyways - not that it would have stopped them from stealing the table from someone else, otherwise. 

     They were already all there: Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. On the coffee table were four identical copies of the same newspaper Y/N had inside her bag.

     “I swear, if you didn’t wait for me, I’ll put my favorite pen in each and everyone of your eyeballs.” she threatened, sitting down next to her best friend.

     “Violent much.” Jimin commented.

     “We waited for you, don’t worry.” Namjoon reassured her, ever the diplomatic.

     Today was a very special day for Y/N’s career. After being accepted for the internship in the biggest newspaper of the country, a couple years back, Y/N actually made friends with her idol. She was fortunately assigned to his department and was able to learn a lot from working for him and with him. Since he had accepted only two interns, he was able to tutor them closely and he had grown quite fond of Y/N. He especially liked her ability to discreetly convey emotions in her writing, without forgetting to deliver the news with a sense of objectivity. She was very good in storytelling, which was very useful in most types of journalism, but not in Watchdog where the journalist needed to be completely neutral, fair and impartial - somehow cold. It took Y/N a lot to accept that maybe she was choosing the wrong specialization - a year from graduating. 

     The man had guided her towards other colleagues - which was kind of against the rules - who matched her style better. She ended up with a woman far more sensitive than her previous mentor that wrote feature stories for the newspaper. These took more a narrative approach than the news stories she was used to like and made more of an emotional connection with the readers. Unlike straight news, feature stories were more creative and subjective, but nevertheless truthful.

     It took her sometime, but Y/N found that her previous tutor was in fact right. This was her genre. The two had kept in touch, mainly because the man hated the other intern and missed working with someone who actually had a future in journalism. After graduation, Y/N didn’t think twice before applying to the very same newspaper and thanks to her brilliant academic curriculum - and maybe a little help from her two mentors - she got the job almost immediately.

     Just like every other new recruit, the first months went like hell. She was more of an assistant than a journalist, but that was to be expected. She worked hard and did her best to show her abilities. And now, after a year, her very first article had been published. 

     It was a 500 words long article, on page 7 in the business section, about a certain major dairy company going bankrupt and which possible competitors were going to buy it. Economy wasn’t Y/N’s favorite subject, the journalist who was supposed to write it suddenly resigned and she was the only one available to fill in. She seized the opportunity without a second thought and pulled an all nighter to be able to send the article in time for the release. 

     Once she had had the approval of the editor she had called Yoongi, who had called the others, and now there they were, all seated around the fireplace with five copies of that morning’s newspaper.

     “Okay. I’m ready. Page 7.” she sighed, looking at the front page of the paper. “3, 2, 1, go!”

     They opened the newspaper simultaneously and the quick turning of pages filled the excited silence. Y/N’s gasp was the first to break it, she found it. It occupied the lower half of the page, complete with picture. She didn’t bother to read it since she knew it by heart. What she did was look at the bottom right of the page, where her name was supposed to be written. And it was.

     She couldn’t believe it. This was her name, under the article she wrote, on the most read newspaper of the country. This was it, this was her dream and it had just become true.

     “I’m no expert in journalism.” Hoseok smiled at her once he was finished reading. “But I found nothing strange in it so I guess you did a good job.”

     “Congratulations, Y/N. This is great!”

     Yoongi put an arm around her shoulder and smiled his best gummy smile at her. “Tonight we’re going to celebrate and you have my very special permission to bring out your best drunk alter ego.”

     “Oh God. Drunk Y/N.” Jimin jokingly lamented.

     “Hell yeah! But for now let me offer you breakfast!” she announced, standing up. “Don’t worry, I remember your orders.”

     She almost skipped towards the counter from the happiness, giddily smiling. “Two iced americanos, one caramel macchiato and one flat white.” she ordered to the boy behind the cashier. “Oh, and one hot chocolate with extra cream, please. And marshmallows if you have them, thanks.” she paid and moved to the right of the counter where another waiter was preparing her order.

     “I’ll get the same thing as the lady.” a male voice said making her look up. “Not all of it. Just the hot chocolate part. To go, please.”

     He was a tall man in his twenties, with black and slightly wavy hair just long enough to tickle his eyelashes, a sharp jaw, broad muscular shoulders hiding underneath a black leather biker jacket and both ears pierced. When he felt her eyes on him he looked down at her and smiled kindly at her. He had beautiful dark eyes that sparkled with the ceiling lights and a very cute mole under his lower lip. He was handsome.

     Y/N smiled back. “Marshmallows are indispensable.” she found herself saying. 

     The man smiled wider, showing his white bunny front teeth. “Only if paired with cream.”

     “I see you’re a man of good taste.” she said.

     “It takes one to know one.” he responded. 

     “Here’s your order, ma’am. Sir.” the waiter interrupted them, pushing a tray filled with different cups and glasses towards her.

     Y/N picked it up before looking at the man again. “Have a nice day.” she smiled.

     “You too.” he answered.

     Y/N lingered another moment. She watched him reach his left hand out to his hot paper cup. The sleeve of his leather jacket went up a bit on the movement, showing his wrist. There, a small black tattoo gathered Y/N’s attention.

     A semicolon.

2018

Letter to No One, 20th.

     I almost forgot about writing my letter this year I was so busy with work. One of our senior instructors moved and we all had to work extra to cover his shifts this month. Not that I mind it, you should know by now how much I love my job. I can’t believe it’s already my second year as instructor.

     It’s so fun to watch the first timers. I can’t remember if I was just as anxious and scared. I probably was. But their excitement once we touch the ground is just as addictive as the jump itself. I never get tired of it. Some of them lie on the grass for a couple minutes, others jump or dance to get rid of the extra adrenaline, most of them laugh like hyenas.

     The weirdest, most unexpected reaction came from a girl last week. She was celebrating a promotion from what I remember and she was with four other friends. Only one managed to jump with her,  while the other preferred waiting for us on the ground. 

     I was assigned as her instructor. She wasn’t very talkative at first, but that’s very common before the jump, when they’re too scared to say anything but monosyllables. Everything went as usual, we signed the forms, went through the lesson and all. The jump was great, she screamed, of course, first of fear and then of joy. 

     When we landed and once I freed her from the harness, that’s when it happened. She kissed me. Can you believe it, No One? She put both of her hands on my face, pulled me to her and kissed me. She wasn’t delicate either. I really don’t know what went through her head. I mean, from all she knew I could had a girlfriend or a wife. I could be gay! 

     And then, you know what she did, No One? She laughed so hard that she fell ass first on the grass. Looking at her holding her stomach, getting breathless and teary eyed, - No One, I swear I couldn’t help it - I laughed too, so much that I actually tripped over one of the lines of the parachute and face planted myself on her legs. She laughed harder at that, of course. It was so embarrassing. 

    She did say sorry, once she calmed down. She seemed rightfully guilty too. I mean, that was sexual assault, plain and simple! If I had done what she did to a client, for sure I would have been slapped right in the face and they’d probably sue me after!

     Anyways it was over after that. She stole the kiss and she left. Does that makes sense to you, No One? I’m kind of disappointed, actually. I mean, I didn’t mind her. But I guess it will just be a happy memory.

     I realized that my letters to you went back to being more and more like annual diary entries over the years, like those I used to write to Haneul before hell went loose. It’s a good thing right? Getting back to normality. 

    I really am okay now, No One. And I don’t say it because I have to pretend, I don’t need to with you. I’m happy, really. I miss them, that’s true. but it doesn’t hurt anymore, at all. I don’t really know how to explain it. I moved on, I guess. Finally. Took me long enough. But that’s okay, too.

     I still prefer not talking about it, unless someone directly asks me. It doesn’t make a pleasant subject for a conversation, let’s be honest. People doesn’t really know what to say to you, they get awkward, can’t look at your eyes. It’s not their fault, either. On the contrary, they’re very fortunate.

     I don’t like the attention either. Besides, I have you to talk freely to. One day, I’ll found a real version of you, someone who will make me feel at ease.

     This year, to commemorate Haneul’s 20th birthday I did a crazy thing. I started training for wingsuit flying. I’m going to pretend you’re not a product of my imagination so that I can explain it to you. 

    Wingsuit flying is the closest you can go to fly like a bird. It’s skydiving at the nth power. You jump from an airplane or from a cliff while wearing a suit with an airfoil shape that allows you to glide through the wind, which means that the flier can alter their forward speed and fall rate. Imagine a flying squirrel and you’ll get the idea.

     It’s a lot more dangerous than simple skydiving, of course. You have to learn a lot of different techniques, learn how to move your body appropriately and how to exploit the properties of the suit. It’s crazy, really.

     It’s not easy to sign up for a First Wingsuit Jump Course, either. First of all, you need to have a skydiving license and reach at least 200 skydive jumps in the past 18 months. Being this my second year as an instructor, I got that covered. Then you have to buy your suit, which doesn’t come cheap. You can rent it or borrow it, of course. But let’s be honest, would you feel safe using a suit that isn’t yours? If you could speak, you’d probably say that that’s literally what happens with our clients at the center. Bare with me, No One. All you need to know is that I bought my own, the best I could. It cost me a month’s salary, but we are not going to comment on that.

     Anyways, my coach is actually the same with whom I got my instructor license in our center. So, that was great. I really like the way he teaches. Let me tell you, No One. There is nothing like it. I get why a lot of skydivers move to the wingsuit. It’s a total upgrade. You can’t call it free falling anymore because you control it. The suit is so responsive to your body movements, it’s crazy. 

     If I had trouble explaining what skydiving felt like, imagine how hard I’m squeezing my vocabulary right now. You really have to try it to understand it.

     I’ve been watching wingsuit videos all day because I can’t think about anything else. There are people who fly through holes in the side of a mountain. Can you imagine that? They fly a 100 mph, one wrong movement and they’re a dead fly on the window.

     I admire them so much. They are so fearless. 

     I aspire to be like them.

     This was the best day of her life. Y/N was sure of it.

     She had just been promoted to senior journalist at her newspaper, which was a hell of a big thing seeing that the competition was fierce and she had less work years on her curriculum than others. Apparently, someone thought she deserved it. And damn well, she did!

     It wasn’t common for a 24 year old woman to achieve such a position for a major newspaper. Not even if she slept with the director himself - which she didn’t.

     If she had to be honest, she was completely caught by surprise. Not because she doubted her abilities, but because she had already prepared herself for years of being underappreciated. So, when she read the email, she actually cried.

     “I can’t believe how lucky you are.” Yoongi had commented, sipping on a glass of red wine. He was, of course, the first person she called after her parents. “You literally live the picture perfect life.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Where to start,” he said ironically. “Best internship? You got it. Dream job? You got it. Your own apartment? Have you seen this place?” he listed on his fingers. “Big promotion at 24? Hell, yeah.”

     “Maybe I’m just that good at what I do.” she winked at him.

     “Okay. Let’s dig dipper.” Yoongi answered, putting down his glass on the table and starting counting on his other hand. “You have great parents who always supported you and had raised you damn well for being an only child.”

     “Thanks.”

     “Your first kiss was with none other than Kim Taehyung, who is Gucci’s current favorite male model.” he continued.

     “I should have kept in touch with him.” she nodded pensively. 

     “You lost your damn virginity with our school’s most popular boy, Kim Seokjin.”

     “We both know how that ended.”

     “Yeah, but he’s the only exception, really.” Yoongi pointed out. “Every other story you had since you left him were completely peaceful. What’s with that? No drama at all! You literally have the record for most peaceful breakups!”

     Y/N laughed. “That’s because I am great at choosing people to be with. Look at you, you are my friend.”

     Yoongi nodded agreeingly. “Yeah, that too. You have the perfect best friend.”

     “That you are.” she rolled her eyes, amused. “Anyways,” she added, lifting her own glass of wine. “Let’s make a toast to my picture perfect life!”

     Later that week, Namjoon had convinced the group that there was no better way to celebrate Y/N’s promotion than doing something completely crazy. Like skydiving. His cousin happened to work in the office of a skydiving center and she had been urging him to try for years, but he never had the courage. The others weren’t sure why that day he finally changed his mind, but his speech was so convincing that they found themselves signing the papers without realizing it.

     Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok backed off just after the first hour of the lesson, some sense coming back to them. On the other hand, Y/N felt quite eager and excited. She never put too much thought on it, but she always liked the idea of skydiving. This would be her first try on anything more adrenalinic than a roller coaster, to be honest, so she was scared too. By the end of the lesson she felt so anxious and thrilled at the same time that she couldn’t utter a single word, only nodding or shaking her head to her instructor’s questions.

     Said instructor was one of the reasons Y/N felt so excited that morning. He didn’t seem to remember her, which was totally normal since the first and last time she had seen him was two years ago and for a total of five minutes. But he clearly left an impression because Y/N recognized him immediately. 

     He was the same man she encountered at the coffee shop the day her very first article was published. He had ordered her same drink, a hot chocolate with extra cream and marshmallows. She remembered his black leather jacket, his bunny smile and his semicolon tattoo. 

     Y/N had regretted not asking his number soon after he left the store. And she continued regretting it years later. She daydreamed about the handsome man from the coffee shop from time to time, but she had also surrendered to the fact that she would have never seen him again.

     So finding out that she had been a friend’s cousin away from him and that they were going to jump in tandem together, really made her believe in Yoongi’s words. She did live the picture perfect life.

     She took it back soon after, though. 

     The skydiving experience per se was incredible, like nothing she ever experienced. What went wrong was the aftermath. She was so drunk on the adrenaline that she made the stupidest, craziest, most unreasonable thing she could have ever done.

     She kissed him. Like hands planted on his face, kissed him. 

     Needless to say, once the adrenaline rush was over, all she wanted to do was buy a shovel, walk barefoot to the most secluded place of the country and dig her 30 feet deep grave.

     As easily as that, what was supposed to be the most beautiful moment of her life became the most embarrassing. And if earlier that day she thought she could finally do what she couldn’t two years past, leaving the center - as she hid herself behind Yoongi’s not so big form - she was decided on never thinking about his face ever again.

     “This is even better than that time drunk Y/N had a cat fight with Namjoon’s ex girlfriend.” he said laughing.

     So Jungkook - as she learned his name was - became for Y/N the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named of her so called picture perfect life.

2020

Letter to No One, 22nd. 

     Maybe it’s time I change the greetings to my letters and actually say hi to you. 

     Dear No One. Yes, that’s better. 

     I was looking forward to writing this one. Tomorrow we’ll be my 100th wingsuit jump. Can you believe it? It seems only yesterday that I bought my very first suit. Time really flies. 

     I think I’ll have to celebrate. I’d celebrate with you, if only you existed. We could have gone to the amusement park and enjoy some rides. Haneul used to really like those. She would have liked you too. Well ... the “you” I imagine, anyways. 

     Have I ever told you you’re a girl? I guess I did at some point. You’re a girl, No One. You don’t really have a face, but I guess you could be beautiful. Cool, too. You have to be cool to willingly read my weird letters. But again, you don’t exist. 

     I’m starting to wish you did though. It would be nice to have someone to be with tomorrow - someone who knows. Like you.

     I’m sorry. I’m feeling kind of melancholy today, I don’t no why. I have this feeling ... I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I had this wonderful, very vivid, dream and I woke up realizing it wasn’t real. You know?

     Maybe it has something to do with the fact that today Haneul was supposed to be 22, the same age I was when she died, combined with mom and dad’s 10th death anniversary. I really don’t know.

     Anyways, let’s go back to my 100th wingsuit jump! I guess I could have done more in two years, but with work and everything it isn’t easy. I would fly every other day if I could.

     Base jumping has become my favorite thing on Earth - the climb, the fall, the speed. Soaring close to the mountainsides, through canyons or just about the ground - it makes you feel euphoric. 

     Aunt Ahreum hates it, we used to fight about it everytime we saw each other. And I hate to admit it but we started to grow more and more apart because of it. She says I’m being stupid, that I’m going to kill myself one of these days, that humans aren’t built to fly. That my parents would hate it as much as she does, that I’m wasting my life on the most dangerous thing I could ever do. 

     Yes, I have to admit, proximity flying does give you a false sense of security. If I want to fly behind that waterfall, I can. If I want to to fly through two rock pillars, I can. You feel invincible.   

     What makes it dangerous is actually what makes it wonderful. It’s like moths being attracted to fire. They see this beautiful light and they get attracted to it, without fully knowing why but well aware of how dangerous it is. That’s it.

     So she might be right, but I’ve accepted the risks long ago. Besides, if life has taught me anything is that if your moment comes, then you can do nothing about it. You could be jumping from a cliff, driving a car to the grocery store or simply be - if your time is over, it’s over. Better have no regrets while you’re at it.

     I’m not stupid. I might be crazy for wanting to jump from a cliff, but this sport requires logic-based decision-making skills and patience. There is so much preparation behind every jump that a simple spectator can’t possibly understand. And it’s always terrifying, I am always scared. Once you stop being scared, once you stop respecting the danger behind it, that’s when things could go very wrong. 

     But I’m not doing it because I want to join my parents and my sister wherever the hell they are, as Aunt Ahreum thinks. I survived that phase of my life. I might have started skydiving to feel closer to them, but now it’s much more than that. It’s what I love. And I am not going to stop doing what I love.

     I don’t care if she thinks I’m being selfish, I’m not. She doesn’t know what it’s like. The freedom, the adrenaline, the exhilarating feeling of going where no one has gone before, the challenge. Only someone who has done it before can understand.

     I really am sorry she thinks I am leaving her alone. I don’t want to. She is, after all, the only family I’ve got left. But why do I have to choose between her and doing something I love?

     Okay, No One. This got out of hand. This was supposed to be a letter to celebrate my achievement. I kind of ruined the mood.

     Right now, I wish you were real. I kind of need a hug now. I’m feeling a bit vulnerable at the moment. I’m having so conflicting thoughts and emotions that I’m getting a headache.

     Do you think it’s possible to find someone who understands me? Am I that complicated? Okay, I guess I do have plenty of baggage, but is it that scary?  Why is it that every relationship I have ends the same? I’m tired of being alone.

     I’m 29 already. I’d like to start a family of my own. 

     Maybe if I had something to lose ...

     I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, No One. Sorry about all the heaviness. I thought I got over those.

     I’m just going to sleep over it. Tomorrow is another day and I’ll definitely feel better.

     I promise.

     Just as every winter Sunday morning Y/N was drinking her cup of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in her favorite coffee shop. Usually, all the boys joined her, but today both Jimin and Hoseok had other appointments and had to raincheck. Yoongi was reading the newspaper, a habit that started because of his best friend, and Namjoon was scrolling through his phone. 

     It was a very slow morning and the three were enjoying it. Y/N especially liked to wallow in laziness on her day off since working at the newspaper was quite stressful. 

     At 26 years old, Y/N could say she was an accomplished woman. Her mother would say all was left was to get married and give her grandchildren, but that was far from happening. Not for lack of trying, Y/N had had a couple of important relationships, but none of them were the right one. Still, she was very young and she preferred concentrating on her career. Sure, after the first few fortunate years - which gained her a handful of enemies at the office, because no one before her had rose through the ranks as fast as she did - it was highly improbable that she’d get another promotion anytime soon, but she wasn’t one to surrender easily.

     “Oh shit.” Namjoon suddenly exclaimed, making both of his friends look up. “No way.”

     “What?” Yoongi and Y/N asked simultaneously. “What happened?”

     Namjoon was still on his phone, a hand now over his mouth. “Do you remember my cousin? The one working at the skydiving center?”

    Yoongi grinned at his best friend. “Who would forget.”

     Y/N grimaced, remembering one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. “Of course.”

     “It’s about that.” Namjoon said looking at her. “He died in an accident, Y/N”

     The woman went completely still, her brain trying to register what he had said. “What are you talking about? You mean Jungkook?” she asked slowly, completely taken aback. 

     “The one she kissed that day?” Yoongi also questioned, in shock too. 

     “Yeah.” Namjoon nodded. “Apparently he had a brief story with my cousin and she’s feeling quite touched by it.”

     Y/N couldn’t believe it. He was just a man among the thousands she had met in her life, but he was one that she remembered fondly. “How?” She didn’t know why but she started feeling emotional, her heart thumping in her chest.

     “Uhm ... something about a wingsuit? I’m not really sure what that is.”

     “It’s like extreme skydiving.” Yoongi responded. “They’re the ones flying through skyscrapers in Transformers 3.”

     “Oh, yeah. Well, that did look dangerous. Y/N, are you crying?” Namjoon gasped.

     The girl run a hand over her cheeks and she did indeed found them wet. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

     “Y/N ...” Yoongi took her hand as she started to sniffle. “You didn’t even know him.”

     “I know.” she smiled sadly through tears. “I know. But I could have.”

     The two looked at each other, communicating through their eyes as they were used to. He sighed and transferred next to her to put an arm around her shoulders. Both of them knew very well the vision Y/N had created in her imagination. The circumstances in which they had found each other were the perfect illusion of a romcom. Deep inside her she was waiting for their third fated encounter. She had told herself that if she was ever to meet him again, no humiliation was going to stop her. Y/N fell in love with the idea of him and of what he could have been.

     This was the worst ending to her fantasies. 

          Later that day, Y/N found herself researching wingsuit flying. She watched hundreds of pictures, dozens of videos and read several articles. She learned about the sport, its challenges, its beauty and its death toll. 

     As the hours passed, she empathized with the fliers more and more. It must have been wonderful to make a dream like flying come true. She envied their courage and admired their freedom.

     But at the same time Y/N couldn’t help but ask herself why did they go so far, what brought them to be so fearless against death. How could they jump everyday knowing that there was a high chance that it could be their last? Was it only courage or also egoism? What about their families, the ones waiting for them on the ground? The flight was extraordinary, no doubt, but was it really worth it?

     She found Jungkook’s social media. It wasn’t difficult, she had already searched for it years back, but it was set on private back then and she couldn’t see anything. Since the last time she checked he had changed the settings and she could now see a great collection of videos and pictures of his stunts. He had gained a lot of following too. He looked so happy in every image that Y/N couldn’t help but tear up again at the idea of him being gone.

     She knew it was foolish of her, crying over the death of a man she barely had a full conversation with. But she couldn’t help feeling sad.

     Y/N dug up the memory card from her skydiving experience. She never printed the pictures or watched the video, at first because she was just too embarrassed at the memory and then, as time passed, she forgot about it. 

     She realized that these were the only proof she had of ever meeting him. The man of the hot chocolate, the man of the stolen kiss.

     “Y/N, I think you’re exaggerating. This isn’t normal. It’s becoming an obsession.” Yoongi sighed after catching her scrolling through Jungkook’s social media page again.

     It had been a week since they discovered the boy’s death. That morning she learned that the Sports Editor of the newspaper she worked for was very close to him. He was a skydiver too, Jungkook had been his instructor and they had kept in touch. The man wrote the news about his death himself, just a brief paragraph on the angle of a page because - as their director had quite crudely told him - Jungkook wasn’t famous enough to deserve a full article. 

     “Yoongi, isn’t it weird? A man I work with knew him well! His office is just a floor above mine.”

     “Y/N ...” 

     “No, really. Listen.” she exclaimed, standing up from her kitchen stool. “The city is huge, okay? There are thousands and thousands of coffee shops in town, but that day he decided to grab a hot chocolate from our store. He couldn’t have lived close by because we never saw him again after that, not once.” she started pacing up and down her dining room. “And one day, years later, we decided on a whim to go skyjumping and conveniently enough it turns out that Namjoon’s close cousin works with him. Even better, he gets assigned as my instructor. And now we discover that a coworker of mine was his friend!” she counted on her third finger. “And you know what just came to my mind the other day? Do you remember the day I got my tattoo? The tattooist had talked about a boy that had gotten a semicolon tattoo, it was him, Yoongi! It was Jungkook! He had the semicolon tattoo on his wrist. It’s one of the reasons he left an impression on me in the first place.”

     Yoongi sighed again. “That’s a bit of a stretch, Y/N. A lot of people go through that shop’s doors and I bet that he isn’t the only one in the country with a semicolon on his wrist.”

     “Okay, maybe it wasn’t him. What about the rest? You have to agree with me that those can’t be coincidence.”

      “I think they are, actually. How many people we cross our lives with without knowing it?”

     “That’s it!” she cried. “We don’t know about it. We probably walk past the same people everyday, but we don’t remember them. I can barely recognize the cashier at the supermarket downstairs and I see her every other day.” she sat down again, looking him straight in the eyes. “He stood out, Yoongi. I saw him twice in the span of who knows how many years but I always remembered him. It wasn’t a coincidence.”

     “Y/N.” the boy grabbed both of her hands urgently. “He’s dead.”

     The girl looked down sadly. “I know that. I’m not in love with a dead man, Yoongi. I’m not. I just ...” she took a deep breath. “I just can’t believe this is how it’s supposed to end. What did I met him for then? What did he stood out for?”

     Y/N just couldn’t keep him out of her head. It wasn’t simple curiosity anymore, her journalistic instinct had kicked in. She was sure of it, there was a story to be told.

     She had been reading the comments under his last post, the people saying goodbye, saying they missed him, commemorating him. A few of them talked about how he was finally meeting his family in heaven, and that’s how she learned about the death of his parents and her sister. The semicolon tattoo made a lot more sense now. A lot of the these comments tagged a certain Jeon Ahreum. It was far too easy for Y/N to discover more about her. 

     From the pictures she had posted with him over the years, Y/N could clearly see their resemblance and their age gap made her assume that she was Jungkook’s aunt. She was on her sixties and she didn’t seem to have a family of her own. She had only Jungkook and now he was gone too. She was alone.

     What she was about to do was definitely overstepping and highly immoral. She wasn’t new to this, as a journalist she had done lots and lots of interviews and most of them weren’t pleasurable, if not all - for some strange reason, bad news brought more readers. However this was the first time she ever felt this bad about it - so bad that she didn’t had the courage to tell Yoongi what she had in mind, because she knew exactly what he would have said.

     The house was a small, a bit old, suburban one with a well kept front lawn. It hadn’t been too difficult to find it thanks to social media and the help of a couple connections of hers. Y/N had been pacing in front of it for a half an hour now, trying to find the courage to walk to the door and to ring the doorbell. She had tried preparing a speech on the way there to no avail, since she was too nervous to come up with something credible. She felt like an amateur all over again and not a senior journalist of one of the country’s best ranked newspaper.

     “Miss, I think you’ve memorized the pattern of my sidewalk by now.” a sudden voice made her jump. “Would you like to come inside for some tea?”

     Y/N stared at the woman with her mouth slightly agape, completely taken aback. She looked older than she expected and thinner than how she was on the last picture she posted. She looked very tired for obvious reasons but she offered Y/N a sincere smile nonetheless.

    “I’m sorry, ma’am.” the girl said, offering her hand to the woman. “My name is Y/N. I’m ...” she pause. Who was she? 

     “A friend of my nephew?” she suggested, shaking her hand and walking back to her house.

     “Y-yeah.” she stuttered with uncertainty. She followed her, feeling more and more uneasy and starting to regret her decision.

     Her home felt very welcoming and cozy with its warm colors and all the pictures hanging on the wall. A big one framed in white wood, which was clearly the central piece of the collection, caught Y/N’s attention. 

     It was a portrait of Jungkook’s family. It was obviously taken a long time ago, Jungkook was still a teenager here, he hadn’t flourished yet in the man she remembered, but he was already handsome, nonetheless. In the picture, they were standing happily in front of a small but beautiful lake surrounded by tall pine trees. The boy was on the left side of his father, who he was a carbon copy of, and was cockily smiling at the camera whilst holding a small fish by the tail - which Y/N deduced he had caught himself. The man had his arm around his wife’s shoulder and while his smile was smug too, the woman’s was sweet. She was beautiful in a very charming way, the sweetness of her features inherited by the little girl standing in front of her. Jungook’s sister was holding quite awkwardly a fishing rod twice her height, she had a twinkle in her eyes that gave her a mischievous appearance strengthen by her messy pigtails and the dirt on her right cheek.

     “They look very happy, don’t they?” Ahreum said behind her, making her jump again.

     “They do. Very much so.”

     The woman let out a sigh. “Come, the tea is almost ready.” 

     Y/N followed her to the kitchen where Jungkook’s aunt invited her to sit on one of the wooden chairs surrounding the table.

     “So, how did you know him?” the woman asked her while pouring hot water into the cups.

     “Oh. Well ...” Y/N started stuttering again, which was very unlike her and very mortifying to her flourishing journalism career. “We skydived together.”

     “You work at the center?” Ahreum offered her the drink and sat down beside her.

     “Uhm, no.” she answered awkwardly. “What I meant to say ... He was my instructor ... Once.” She internally reproached herself. She was supposed to be a better liar, not tell her the truth.

     “So you only met ... once?” the woman questioned with an arched brow.

     “Twice.” Y/N corrected impulsively, giving herself an imaginary smack on the head. “We met briefly at a coffee shop too.”

     As the woman stared at her with an inquisitorial look, Y/N felt as if she was back to the innocent teenage girl she once was, the one who wanted to become a ballerina and not the skilled, ambitious, yet standoffish journalist she was now.

     “You didn’t really know him then.” the woman easily guessed. She didn’t seem mad, though, more curious.

     “No.” she admitted looking down at her reflection on the surface of her tea.

     “Why are you here really?”

     She didn’t know how to answer. She perfectly knew why she was here but she also knew the woman wouldn’t like it. She wanted to write a story. His story. There might have been a lot of other tales out there, much more important and significant to tell. But Jungkook ... he unknowingly gave spark to her life and she had never felt this driven to someone before. She knew it was totally unreasonable for her to feel this way, he wasn’t some hero, he didn’t make some great change for the world. He was just some ordinary boy who lived a very sad life, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a reason why their lives had crossed one another, even if so briefly.

     “I couldn’t shake him off.” she finally murmured. “I met him twice, yes. But it was enough for me to remember him. Even as years passed. I didn’t really know nothing about him before he died, I barely knew his name. But he would always come to my mind. I’m not some crazy person.” she hurriedly added looking up at the woman who was silently listening to her words. “I just feel this connection with him ... I have no explanation to it, I just feel it. And I thought I couldn’t leave it at that. I thought I had to give some meaning to it.” she sighed. “I’m a journalist.” she admitted remorsefully. “I’m not here for work. I’m here for me. I want to tell his story, because that’s the only thing I’m able to do ... the only meaning I could find.”

     She waited patiently for the woman to say anything. They sat in a heavy silence for an uncountable amount of time and it soon became uncomfortable for Y/N. 

     “You must think I’m really crazy, after all.” she laughed awkwardly.

     “I do.” the woman admitted, making the girl wince. “You know, since he died I’ve been preparing a lot of tea.” she continued, putting some sugar in her cup. “People have been coming here everyday to give me their condolences. Old friends, distant relatives.You see, unfortunately this isn’t my first time. I lost my little brother and his wife first, my beautiful niece soon after. But I guess you already know that. It was so hard for us, for Jungkook more than for me. I’d like to say I tried my best to prevent this from happening.” she sighed. “But i’m afraid my attempts had only drawn us further from one another. The last time I talked to him was more than a month ago. We fought, he hang up the phone on me. I just gave up, I think. I should have tried one more time.” the woman stood up and walked towards her living room. Y/N waited patiently, feeling teary eyed and heavy hearted. Ahreum returned with a wooden box in her hands. “I said I think you’re crazy, but I might be too because I’m feeling more at ease speaking to you than to all of those who call themselves close to me.” she laughed sadly before sitting back down. “So I might understand what you said about feeling a connection with someone you barely know. And it might be the reason I’m about to do this.” she said looking down at the box.

     Y/N could feel her curiosity rise. She couldn’t imagine what was inside it.

     “I think you are right.” the woman continued. “This can’t be all there is. Their deaths have to mean something.” she paused, as if collecting her thoughts. “I know he’s been writing these.” she said caressing the box. “My sister in law made him write one every year for Haneul’s birthday and he continued to do so even after their deaths. I didn’t have it it me to read them, but I’m giving them to you.” she pushed the item towards a shocked Y/N. “I don’t want whatever he wrote to be left unread. They had a purpose, I want you to give them a new one.”

     Y/N opened the box carefully. Inside it were dozens of envelops, neatly sealed and signed. “Are you sure?” she gasped. “I’m no one to you. I was no one to him.”

     “Be someone then.” she smiled. “Isn’t this what you came here for? To give yourself a role in my nephew’s life?”

     “I-” Y/N furrowed her brows, thinking about this new point of view. It sounded wrong, but true nevertheless.

     “I’m not mad at you.” the woman reassured her. “To be honest, I think I’ve become insensitive to any kind of feelings. I want you to write your story, his story. I’ll give you all you need to do so, pictures, documents, everything. I only ask you one thing: don’t ask me any questions, I don’t want to answer them.”

     Y/N was more than shocked at this point, she couldn’t believe a word she was hearing. This woman, who she had met not more than ten minutes ago, was giving her his nephew’s handwritten letters. Letters he addressed to his dead little sister. Furthermore, she was promising to give her anything she had in order for her to write their story.

     “You’re crazy.” Y/N heard herself saying before slapping a hand over her mouth. 

     Ahreum smiled slightly. “It takes one to know one, am I right?”

     “I’m sorry, ma’am.” Y/N apologized quickly. “But are you really sure you want me to do this?”

     “I am. I want you to give all of my suffering the meaning I’ve been searching.”

     The first thing Y/N did once she was back home was ask for a week of leave of absence from work, if she wasn’t able to concentrate before, it was definitely out of question now. The second thing she did was call Yoongi.

     The two of them were sitting cross legged on Y/N’s bed, reading each a letter quietly. Y/N couldn’t possibly keep this to herself and if she was going to read through the letters of a dead man, then she needed her best friend with her.

     There were a total of 23 letters, it was fascinating to see how Jungkook’s handwriting had evolved over the years. There were some pictures too, some used birthday candles and a few dried flowers. He must have been collecting them for his sister.

     “It was him.” she murmured emotionally. “I knew it was him. The tattoo, it was him.”

     “He wrote about you.” Yoongi interrupted her. “Your kiss, he wrote about it.”

     “He did?” she gasped taking the letter from his hands.

     “I can’t believe his aunt gave this to you. Willingly.”

     “Great, he taught it was embarrassing.” she sighed. “Or maybe not ...”

     “I can’t think of a valid reason for her to do so. I might not understand what she’s going through, but I wouldn’t give all of my valuable memories to someone I just met.”

     “Neither would I.” she said. “But she felt I was worthy of her trust, so I won’t make her regret it.”

     Yoongi shook his head doubtfully. He didn’t like Y/N’s obsession before, but now he wasn’t sure what to think. The whole situation felt absurd to him. He took a random letter from the pile, it turned out to be Jungkook’s last one. He carefully read through it.

     “I think he knew.” he said after a couple of minutes, with a heavy heart.

     “What?”

     “That he was about to die.”

2022

     Y/N walked carefully through the pathways. The guardian wasn’t very clear with his indications and Y/N didn’t want to get lost in a cemetery. She had brought with her four simple bouquets and a book. Her book.

     Jungkook had been buried right next to his parents and Y/N couldn’t help but remember the picture hanged on Ahreum’s living room wall. On his marbled tombstone were engraved three short words: the brave one. She smiled, she found it quite fitting.

     “Hi, Jungkook.” she said, imagining he was in front of her. “Hello, everyone. My name is Y/N, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Ahreum’s.” she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I never came to visit, I guessed I felt a bit guilty. I’m sure you’ve been keeping an eye on Ahreum from where you are, so I’m assuming you know about the book I’ve been writing. Well, it’s all done now.” she showed the object to them. “It took me some time, but I finally made it. It was supposed to be only an article but it turned out quite longer. I wasn’t sure you would have agreed to this, but me and Ahreum thought that your story deserved to be told. I’ve learned so much from it, really. I learned not to take anything for granted, I learned to appreciate life thanks to you. All of you. I am sorry that it took your deaths for me to understand the value of life. Ahreum is a great woman, you know? She’s been living in a cottage facing the sea. She doesn’t accept visits and calls from anyone, but she always answer my emails. I’m trying to keep in touch with her as much as I can. I think she misses all of you a lot.” she felt her eyes water. “I think she’s waiting for her time to join you, for all of you to be together again. I hope you’re not mad at her for wanting to share your story.” Y/N bent forward to put a bouquet in front of every gravestone. “I think, in a way, she was tired of suffering alone. The book is going to be published tomorrow. I’m feeling quite anxious, to be honest, but at the same time I can’t wait to share my work to the world. I’ve worked so hard on it, too make it as accurate as I could. I didn’t want to romanticize it, I wanted it to be truthful so that if you could read it, you could be proud of it. After all these time, I feel like I know you personally. I’ve seen your pictures, seen some of your videos, talked to your friends. There were times it was hard, knowing I was invading your privacy. It never stopped to be conflicting, really. Not even now that it’s all over.” she looked up at the sky, clear and blue. “Jungkook ... I -” she felt a tear falling down her cheek. “I’ve been regretting that day. That day at the coffee shop. I can’t help but wonder ... what would have happened if ... if I asked for your number that day, as I wanted to. I wish I could know, Jungkook. Did you really heal yourself? That day, that last flight, did you really pulled your parachute late by accident? Where you really happy? Your friends, your coworkers, everyone thought so, but very few of them knew what you’ve gone through. You wrote you were in a better place in your letters, but what value does a few words scribbled once a year have? No one knew but you.” Y/N read the words on his grave once again. “You were really brave, weren’t you? I’m sorry you had to suffer so much and I know it’s arrogant of me to think that I have the power to change what happened, but what if we were destined? What if ... What if I was meant to save you? To this day, I still can’t believe our lives crossed for no reason. Not even writing this book gave me peace. My friends think I’m crazy. They might be right, this obsession won’t do me any good. I guess it’s time I move on, stop thinking about you the way I do. But for one last time, what if I could have been the one you were searching for? The one who would have made you feel less lonely, someone that made you feel like you had enough, enough to live. Am I crazy to think that I could be that person? Me, a stranger, no one?”

Guess who’s back!

Hi everyone! It’s D! How are you all doing?

The past few months have been exceptionally stressful for me, as I’m sure it has been for most of you. I had nor the time, nor the will or the creativity to continue writing. But I’ve been reading all of your comments and all of your messages and I deeply appreciate it (I’ll reply to every single one of them, i promise)! I was and am very happy to know that even if I went MIA as an author my stories were still able to reach your hearts. Thank you so so much!

Now that I’m in a better place, I feel ready to start a new adventure with you again! I have a few projects in mind already - one of them being The Monster of Florence with my bias wrecker Minstradamus that I put on hold last October - but I have a special idea for my comeback and I need your help for it!

You just have to answer a simple question (please do!):

Snapdragon or No One?

Leave the rest to me! ;)

*Waiting anxiously*

Luv you 3000!

Ok so I finally found the courage to proof read my fics ... and let me tell you, I’m really sorry for what I made you go through 😅

Someone - ‘No One’ AU - Preview

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook / Reader (female)

Genre Extreme Sports AU | Slice of Life AU | Heavy Angst

Warning Death | Mentions of Suicide | Mentions of Depression (Please, do NOT read if these themes are sensible to you)

Release April 26,2021 ca

Summary “He was the same man she encountered at the coffee shop the day her very first article was published. She remembered his black leather jacket, his bunny smile and his semicolon tattoo. Y/N had regretted not asking his number soon after he left the store. And she continued regretting it years later. She daydreamed about the handsome man from the coffee shop from time to time, but she had also surrendered to the fact that she would have never seen him again. So finding out that she had been a friend’s cousin away from him and that they were going to jump in tandem together, really made her believe in Yoongi’s words. She did live the picture perfect life.”

A/N This is a “What if?” on No One, it is highly recommended to read it first! 

©️ dfdph, 2021 - all rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

Someone - No One AU

Author D.

Pairing Jungkook / Reader (female)

Genre Extreme Sports AU | Slice of Life AU | Heavy Angst

Warning Death | Mentions of Suicide | Mentions of Depression (Please, do NOT read if these themes are sensible to you)

Word count 11k

Summary “He was the same man she encountered at the coffee shop the day her very first article was published. She remembered his black leather jacket, his bunny smile and his semicolon tattoo. Y/N had regretted not asking his number soon after he left the store. And she continued regretting it years later. She daydreamed about the handsome man from the coffee shop from time to time, but she had also surrendered to the fact that she would have never seen him again. So finding out that she had been a friend’s cousin away from him and that they were going to jump in tandem together, really made her believe in Yoongi’s words. She did live the picture perfect life.”

Disclaimer English is not my first language, beware!

A/N This is a “What if?” on No One, it is highly recommended to read it first! To be edited.

No One (main)

©️ dfdph, 2021 - all rights reserved. Reposting or translating onto other sites is NOT allowed.

2010

     Professor Han’s lecture in Entrepreneurship turned out more interesting than Jungkook thought it would be. When he woke up at six o’clock that morning at the sound of his alarm, he had every intention of recovering at least a couple of hours sleep hiding in the last row of the conference hall. The night before, in fact, he had stayed out late again playing videogames with his roommates, too caught in the match to care about the time.

      However, after the first few boring minutes where the professor introduced the topic, Jungkook found himself hanging on his every word. Half an hour into the lecture and he had already taken three full pages of notes. Those around him seemed interested as well, everyone busy scribbling on their notebooks or typing away on their laptops. The room was completely silent.

     So the sound of his phone vibrating inside his bag, even if muffled, made Jungkook jump in surprise. He rummaged through his things with one hand, never diverting his gaze from the slideshow. Once he found the object in question he gave a quick glance to its screen before silencing the call and throwing the phone inside his bag again.

     It was his aunt, Ahreum. 

     It was quite strange, actually, for her to call him. They were quite close, yes, but they rarely spoke to each other over the phone. He wondered if he had forgotten some special occasion, was it her birthday? He made a mental memo to call her back once the lecture was over.

     However the phone vibrated three more times after that, to the point that he had to turn it off because he was starting to gather annoyed glances from those sitting beside him. 

     “Sorry.” he whispered clicking on the off button of his iPhone 4.

     Jungkook turned it back on only a couple of hours later, once he was back in his room and had grabbed a quick lunch at the cafeteria. To his shock, he found a total of 26 missed calls from his aunt and a few more from a number he didn’t recognize. 

     Slightly anxious, he hurriedly called Ahreum back, throwing his bag on the floor and sitting down on the edge of his bed. The woman answered after just two rings.

     “Jungkook.” she called him with a tone he couldn’t place but that made him feel uneasy.

     “Hey, sorry if I ignored your calls.” he said in a rush. “I was in class and couldn’t answer. Is everything okay?”

     There was a moment of heavy silence on the other side of the phone, in which the nineteen year old boy started having a very bad feeling.

     Ahreum suddenly let out a pained whimper. “Jungkook ...” she cried.

     “What happened?” he mumbled, his heart beating faster inside his chest. The woman couldn’t reply, now completely taken over by her sobs. “Aunt, what happened?”

     “Jungkook ...” she stuttered through her tears. “Your parents ...”

     She wasn’t able to finish the sentence before she was sobbing again, but somehow she didn’t have to. Jungkook’s mind went blank, his heart stopped for a moment and a strangled breath escaped from his mouth. His ears started to ring and he had to tighten his grip on the phone to not let it fall on the ground. His free hand went to his chest, pressing over his heart that started constricting painfully all of a sudden. His eyes started to water, he closed them tightly to try ease the burn.

     “Please ...” he whimpered. “Please don’t ...”

     Please don’t say it.

     “Jungkook ... They had an accident.” his aunt managed to say. “They ... they are dead.”

          The flight back home went in a blur. An hour after his call with Ahreum he finally managed to get out of his room and walk towards his shared small living room in a drunken state. His roommates noticed quickly that something was wrong because they all stood up from their seats on the couch to run to him.

     “My parents are dead.” he had said robotically, his eyes blank.

     His friends were the ones who booked his airplane tickets, prepared a small hand luggage and accompany him to the airport the very evening. One of them even offered to go with him because none of them had the courage to let him travel alone in that state.

     Jungkook couldn’t remember how he got in front of his aunt’s door. He had stayed silent and unmoving for the whole journey, his body following his friend automatically.

     It was only when Ahreum opened the door and he registered her swollen red eyes and her pain stricken features that he finally came back to reality. He almost fell into her arms, the very first tears running profusely down his cheeks. The two hugged each other tightly, clinging on one another while sobbing.

     “I’m sorry, Jungkook.” the woman cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”

     “Where’s Haneul?” he gasped suddenly, detaching himself abruptly from the hug. “She’s not ...”

     Ahreum shook her head quickly. “She wasn’t with them. She was at school. I managed to put her to sleep just a few minutes ago, she’s in my room.”

     Jungkook run past his aunt and up the stairs without a word, climbing the steps two at a time. Once in front of the bedroom door he paused, his hand wavering over the knob. He took a deep shaky breath and turned it open.

     The room was dark and his eyes took a minute to adjust. On the bed he could recognize the silhouette of a small body curled on its side. He slowly walked towards it, careful to not make any sound. He climbed on the mattress and lay under the covers, right beside the sleeping form of his sister. 

     As if sensing his presence, the twelve year old girl snuggled closer to his body, hiding her head in his chest and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. Jungkook looked down on her, hugging her back. She was still asleep.

     He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip to muffle a sob. He hadn’t seen his sister in months, since the last time he had come back from college for their father’s birthday. He had missed her everyday, but never in a thousand years he imagined this would be the reason he would hug her again. 

     It was when he felt his t-shirt getting wet on his skin that he realized that the little girl was silently crying in her sleep. And somehow that was when the reality crushed upon him.

     They were orphans.

2011

     The past year had been very difficult for Jungkook. After his parents’ funeral there were a lot of things he had to take care of and a lot of changes he and his sister had to get accustomed to. First of all, aunt Ahreum moved in with them to help out with things. She was the only close relative they had any real relationship with and the only one who really understood what they were going through, so it seemed only right for them to live together. 

     As the oldest son, Jungkook inherited all of his parents’ possessions, not only their savings but also the two story house he grew up in and both of their cars. All of a sudden, Jungkook found himself with a lot of money but with no parents.

     The hardest part of it all was acting strong for his sister’s sake. She was probably the one who felt their parents’ absence the most, she was only a little girl after all, she still fully depended on them. 

     After a few weeks of mourning, Jungkook and Ahreum tried to bring back some normality in their lives. The very first day Haneul went back to school, Jungkook spent the whole morning worried for his little sister. Since the funeral they had spent every moment together, Haneul clinging to him for comfort and him welcoming it, not seeing her for hours made him incredibly anxious. To make things worse, Haneul acted strange the whole ride back home. She kept silent, despite Jungkook’s attempts to make conversation and run into her room without a word as soon as they arrived. This went on for the rest of the week, worrying Jungkook and Ahreum to no end, until one Friday Haneul had a full blown tantrum, screaming and throwing all of her books and pencils to the wall. The boy didn’t know what to do, he had never seen her like that before. He run to hug her tight, trying to calm her down. They ended up crying into each other’s arms, until they fell asleep on the floor, drained of all energy.

     Things started getting a little better after that, at least for Haneul. It might have been because of the lightheartedness of her age, but she seemed to move on a lot faster than her brother did. Jungkook, on the other hand, after seeing his sister lose control the way that she did, started having frequent panic attacks to the point that he had to go drive to her school in the middle of her classes just to make sure she was okay and safe. He had trouble sleeping, lost appetite and the will to do anything but think about Haneul.

     Ahreum sat him down one night, when she finally had enough. She found him sitting on the floor beside the closed door of his sister’s bedroom, dark circles under his eyes and head lolling forward, nodding off.

     “You have to take care of yourself too.” she had said worriedly. “You have to move on with your life as well. We’ll be doing fine here, Haneul is doing fine. I’ll take care of her. But you have to move on.”

     And so he did. He tried. After a week of hesitation he decided to fly back to college. Haneul had been nothing but supportive, despite his concerns. She was smarter and braver than he was.

     Going back to his old routine felt strange and confusing. He had missed a lot of his classes and, even though most of his professors had been understanding, he quickly started to struggle to keep up. Ironically, that same struggle helped him keep his mind busy, so he dived headfirst into his studies. He had surrendered to the idea that he would be graduating late, the only thing he could do was to keep his grades up. That was the only thing he did. Study, eat and sleep. And sometimes watch some TV. He stopped going to the gym, stopped  playing games with his roommates, stopped going out for drinks with his friends. His bike had started collecting dust and dead leaves, untouched for weeks.

     Until one day, just like aunt Ahreum, his friends had enough of watching him waste away. They dragged him from his desk, ignoring his protests, and threw him in the backseat of a car, sitting on either side of him so that he couldn’t escape. They drove for more than an hour until they reached the countryside and all Jungkook could see were hectares of fields. They went trough an open gate with a big banner hanging on top that read in big capital letters: skydiving school.

     Before his parents’ death, Jungkook had talked about trying skydiving for a long time. His father was an adrenaline junkie himself, they had tried bungee jumping together a couple of years back and had promised themselves they would go skydiving for the first time together as well. That promise was, of course, long forgotten. Finding himself in front of a Twin Otter aircraft, parked on the airstrip, was a complete shock for Jungkook. He suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, making his fingers tingle with excitement. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt for a long time, an emotion that, at least for that day, erased all the bad ones.

     The fall itself was something indescribable, Jungkook had never felt anything like it. Flying up to the sky, all geared up, he felt the reality of his decision and it was scary and exhilarating at the same time. Once the door opened, 14 000 feet above the ground, he felt the cold wind hit him with force giving him goosebumps all over his body. It was a matter of seconds, one moment he was on the edge of the plane and then he was free falling. His brain had trouble understanding what was happening, a wave of rollercoaster emotions pervaded him. The first 60 seconds were thrilling. Then the instructor pulled the parachute open and he felt a sharp tug, slowing his speed short. From that moment on, it was like soaring through the sky. He felt free like a bird, flying with the wind surrounded by the beautiful scenery and the breathtaking view. He enjoyed the sudden change of temperature, the air getting warmer and warmer as they glided softly towards the ground. He enjoyed the quiet, the peace. 

     When he finally touched the ground, his mind mind finally processed what happened and a liberating feeling pervaded him. He fell on all fours and started crying. But it wasn’t for sadness, or grief or anger this time. He felt free.

2012

     Professor Lee was giving a propaedeutic class in Business Law, one of the most important courses in his third year as a Business Management major and Jungkook was set on acing it. Nevertheless, when he felt his phone vibrating inside the pocket of his pants, he didn’t hesitate to check who was calling him.

     The last time his phone had rang during a lecture inside the conference hall was two years ago. That time he had ignored the insisting calls of his aunt Ahreum and it didn’t turn out good. He had learned his lesson.

     His heart dropped seeing it was, in fact, her once again. He stood up rather abruptly from his second row seat, ignoring the annoyed glance the professor gave him, and quietly made his way to the exit. He answered the call as soon as the door was closed behind him.

     “Aunt?” he said, slightly apprehensive. “Everything ok?”

     He heard her sigh on the other side. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you, but ...” she paused.

     “Don’t worry. What happened?”

     “It’s your sister. She’s not been feeling well these past weeks.”

     Jungkook furrowed his brows, confused. “Yeah, she told me she caught the stomach flu. I spoke with her just yesterday.”

     Ahreum sighed again, worriedly. “It’s not the flu.” she replied. “She’s been having stomach problems, yes. But she’s also been very drowsy, she was barely able to hold a glass of water the other day and ... her sight has been acting weird. I got worried.” she admitted, taking a calming breath. “I brought her to the doctor this morning.”

      “O-ok.” Jungkook mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “What did he say?”

     “He looked very concerned too.” Ahreum replied. “He prescribed her a lot of exams. It ... It looks serious, Jungkook.”

     The boy closed his eyes in worry. It felt like a deja-vu. “Do you want me to come home?”

     The woman sighed once more. “I think you should.”

     “I’ll get on the first flight.”

     Jungkook didn’t have the time to realize what was happening. Everything went downhill too rapidly. Haneul’s pediatrician got her admitted to the hospital just a couple days later, when he had called him in panic after he had found her fainted on her bedroom floor. 

     It was a revolving door of nurses and doctors after that, everyone at Haneul’s bedside. A few blood tests and an MRI scan later and the boy was told to prepare himself. The diagnose was clear and unmistakable. His sister had a brain tumor. It was uncommon at her age, they said, but it wasn’t rare either. Unfortunately the cancer was on an advanced stage, the treatment was going to be aggressive. There was nothing they could have done to prevent it, it was not their fault. All words that Jungkook failed to comprehend.

     That night, watching his sister sleep in her hospital gown, attached to all kind of wires, he cried like he hadn’t done in a while. Two years had passed since their parents’ deaths and Jungkook was foolish enough to think that the worst was over. Two years and he was just beginning to feel happy again, really happy. Two years to overcome the pain and the anger.

     And now, his sister, barely fourteen, was diagnosed with cancer. Haneul who had the annoying habit to steal all of his stuff and eat his biscuits. The girl who liked dancing in the middle of the living room, the one who broke her arm doing somersaults in the park. The one who loved to call him ‘my cool big brother’ in front of her friends. Haneul, his little sister.

     He sat beside her bed, his head in his hands, and sobbed, feeling the comforting hand of his aunt on his left shoulder. “If she dies, I’m not going to make it.”

2013

     All odds were against her, they’ve told him that. They did try to prepare him for this moment. They’ve tried everything, everything to save her. Yet, as Jungkook hugged the limp body of his little sister tightly in his arms, he couldn’t help but pray one last time. 

     The doctors had talked to him that morning, they said that the time had come, that all he could do now was to be with her. He almost punched one of them. How could they give up on her? But, deep down, he knew that they were right.

     It took the cancer only ten months, two weeks and three days to win over Haneul’s small body, almost a record. She got worse rather rapidly, the hallucinations taking over and all the energy quickly abandoning her. Over the last week she had been barely awake, just enough to give him a smile. The last.

     Jungkook hadn’t moved from her side, lying down next to her on the hospital bed, too conscious of her shallow breaths and too scared to leave her alone. Aunt Ahreum couldn’t stay in the room, she didn’t have it in her to watch her little nephew fade away. But, Jungkook stayed. He prayed. He prayed for a miracle, a big one. That someone, something, anything, would save her from death. But nothing happened. 

     So he waited, wondering if it was this second or the next. He waited for the moment his sister would die in his arms. Surrendering to the reality of things. He told her that it was okay, that she could go. He told himself that he was ready.

     He waited, caressing her smooth bald head, rocking her small frame.

     “It’s okay, baby girl.” he murmured, his eyes staring into the void, tears falling down silently over his shallow cheeks. “I understand.”

      Fifteen years old. 

      Haneul was only fifteen.

      He was supposed to give her the birthday letters he had been writing over the years in a few weeks, for her sweet sixteen, just like their mother had planned. She wanted to show Haneul that her brother had loved her since the very first day.

     Jungkook closed his eyes, resting his left cheek over her right temple. “I’m so sorry, Haneul. I wasn’t a good brother to you.” he sobbed quietly. “I should have stayed with you. You needed me and I abandoned you. I’m so, so sorry.” he took a deep breath, kissing the top of her head. “I hope you can forgive me. I love you.”

     Ten months, two weeks and three days weren’t enough to prepare him for the scary sound that came soon after, not even if he tried so hard to convince himself that he was prepared. He wasn’t.

     They were inside the room just a second later, as if they were ready. Jungkook stared at them wide eyed as the beeping sound rang through his ears. He looked down to her sister, still in his arms. He counted five seconds in his head and looked for any sign, a movement. But he could tell, she had stopped breathing.

     “H-Haneul?” he called her, shaking her slightly. “Haneul?”

     She is just sleeping.

     He felt a hand on his shoulder, a voice calling his name slowly. “Jungkook ...”

     He turned around, his body shaking in agony. It was Haneul’s doctor, looking at him sadly. “N-no. No. Please, do something.” he turned again, looking at the others standing by the door. “Please. Do something.”

     No one moved.

     He looked down once more, the sobs taking over him. Haneul looked peaceful, so small next to his body.

     Just sleeping. She is just sleeping.

     Fifteen years old.

     The doctor turned off the monitor swiftly, putting an end to the excruciating beeping noise. 

     “No ...”

     She is just sleeping.

     The funeral was over in a heartbeat. Jungkook was only physically there. He felt empty inside.

     They had buried her right next to his parents, a little white marble tombstone with a few cursive words engraved on it: sky, heaven. 

     He had chosen them. He couldn’t think of anything else but that, her name. But he thought it fitted her nonetheless.

     He looked at the wooden box in his hands. It contained Haneul’s birthday letters. He had planned to get it buried with her, but changed idea last minute. He wasn’t sure why but he couldn’t find the courage to let go of it.

     He looked back at the gravestones. His mother, his father and his sister.

     They all had left him. He was alone.

2014

     Jungkook sealed the letter tightly. Today was supposed to be Haneul’s sixteenth birthday, this letter was supposed to be special. Indeed, it was.

     No One. His new friend. 

     He smirked to himself. “I’m ridiculous.”

     He got up from his place on the floor and stumbled drunkenly to his desk where he had left the wooden box. He had added a few things to it over the past year. Dried flowers, pictures, tickets. Things he taught his sister would have liked. He put the envelope on top of the others before closing the lead with care.

     It was almost midnight and his apartment was immersed in darkness, just the flickering light of his bed lamp to illuminate the room. He walked unsteadily back to the end of his bed, a half empty bottle of beer in a hand, letting himself fall on it with a thud.

     Jungkook was drunk. Had been for days probably. The empty bottles were abandoned all over the house. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, or the last time he had taken a shower. He couldn’t recall if he had called sick at work or not. He wasn’t even sure where the phone was. Not that he cared, really. For all that mattered, they could fire him. What was he working for, anyways?

     What was the purpose of it all?

     No one cared for him and he had no one to care for.

     “I’m all alone in this big, big world.” he giggled, emptying the bottle in one gulp.

     He had done the math that morning. It was easy even in his drunken state. It had been four years since his parents had left him and a little over a year since his sister had died in his arms. All gone.

     Aunt Ahreum? Aunt Ahreum was useless. All she could do was worry and worry and worry about him. All day, all week.

     What was there to worry about? 

     “Useless.” he repeated to himself. “She’s useless. Everything’s useless. And I’m the most useless of them all.”

     He turned to look at the closed door. Behind it was the corridor that led to the rest of the apartment. To the kitchen and to the bathroom. To the cutlery drawer and to the medicine cabinet.

     He closed his eyes, letting the now empty bottle fall on the wooden floor to join the others and preparing himself for the same sad game he had been playing since that afternoon. 

     “Knife. Pills. Knife. Pills. Knife. Pills.”

     A cut was painful, but he wasn’t good with taking down pills.

     “A rope?”

2015

     After a year in which Jungkook let himself get overwhelmed by the darkness, he could now finally say that he was slightly doing better. He wasn’t sure what changed but, one day he realized that if he didn’t even have the courage to end his life, he might as well live it. It wasn’t easy getting out of the tunnel of depression and he wasn’t sure he was really out of it. It was a silent battle he decided to fight on his own. None of his past therapists had been able to help him, his friends didn’t seem to notice his struggle and, besides, he didn’t want them to share his burden. 

     He hid behind the joy of skydiving, the adrenaline of falling in the air helping him. He set a goal to keep himself going: reach 500 jumps. Every flight was one step closer to freedom and everytime he opened his parachute was a win against his monsters.

     Haneul’s seventeenth birthday coincided with Jungkook’s 250th jump, which meant that he was halfway through becoming a skydiving instructor. To celebrate the occasion, he decided to do something he had set his mind upon a long time ago, since his bad boy teenage years: get a tattoo. At first he wasn’t sure what he wanted to get inked, but then, one day, he remembered a girl he had met outside his last therapist’s office. He heard her explaining her new tattoo to the secretary. It all started as a non profit project some year past, a small punctuation mark to wear with pride. A symbol of survival: a semicolon.

     He knew he hadn’t reached his goal just yet, but he wanted to give himself a reminder that, one day after the other, he could choose not to put an end to his sentence, to his life.

     So, that’s what he did. After wandering aimlessly around the city, he entered the first tattoo shop he encountered and asked for a simple yet brave request. 

     A black semicolon on his wrist.

     In that brief moment it took the artist to draw the symbol on his skin, he thought about all the times he opened his parachute at the very last minute, the times he had emptied the bottle of his antidepressants on his hand, the times he laid the point of a knife on his wrists. And through the pain of the needle pinching his skin, he promised himself he would do better.

2016

     Most days were good. Most days Jungkook felt happy. 

     And then there were days that he was not. There were days that it wasn’t just melancholy, it wasn’t just him missing his family, it wasn’t just him feeling lonely. It was all of the above and more.

     Those days were overwhelming. Those days were hard.

     Those days Jungkook felt like a failure. Just when he thought he was finally over the darkness, one morning he would wake up submerged by it once again. And getting out of it got harder and harder. 

     Today was one of those days.

     Today was his last jump before obtaining his instructor license. He had tried to fight the heavy feeling hovering on his chest, tried to ignore the evil voice whispering in his ear. He pretended to be thrilled, to be excited as his coworkers congratulated him. He put on a smile getting on the small plane, ready to take off.

     He controlled his gear once again. He was sure he had secured it, but he controlled nonetheless. Parachute and altimeter, all on set. 

     He closed his eyes, feeling the aircraft rumble trough the airstrip, and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He tried, he really tried, but it didn’t matter how hard he thought about happy things, the bad ones just kept overpowering the others. 

     When he jumped, 14 000 feet off the ground, his eyes were still sealed. He counted in his head 60 seconds, the approximate time that he knew it took him to reach the right altitude to open his parachute.

     59, 58, 57.

     It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

     53, 52, 51.

     You have your aunt, she loves you very much.

     46, 45, 44.

     Your friends love you too. They care about you.

     32, 31, 30.

     He could just do it. Put an end to it all. Who was he kidding? He was not doing okay. It was all pretend. He had no one to count on. His parents were dead. His sister was dead. And he was a failure. A failure as a son and as a brother. He failed to take care of his little sister. He abandoned her. She was dead, he was alive. He didn’t deserve it. He was the one who was supposed to die, not her. His life ... his life had no value, but hers did. She still had a lot to do. He took that opportunity from her.

     10, 9, 8.

     He fought, he fought hard, a hand tight over the handle of the parachute, ready to pull it. Ready to save himself.

     I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

     I’m not a failure. I’m not a failure. I won’t fail them.

     He pulled the string with all of his force, letting out a pained scream that got lost in the wind. His flight slowed down in that known canopy ride. He slowly opened his eyes, a single tear falling down his cheek. The sky was of a beautiful blue, white clouds painted artistically on it. Beneath him, a sheet of green, yellow and brown. He imagined his father’s hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. He imagined his mother humming a peaceful song in his ear to calm him, his sister smiling widely at him, telling him she loved him.

     I can do this. I won’t fail them.

     A couple of weeks later, Jungkook finally found the courage to go to the cemetery and visit his family’s graves. It was the first time since Haneul’s funeral, three years ago. He knew his aunt went regularly and it was evident thanks to the fresh flowers and the pristine tombstones.

     When he decided to go he hadn’t made a clear plan on what to do. He didn’t know if he was supposed to talk to them out loud or else. He felt weird and he wasn’t sure it did him any good.

     He ended up leaving soon after he had arrived and driving around the city on his motor bike, lost in his thoughts.

     While waiting on a stoplight he noticed a nice coffee shop and suddenly realized he had a craving for something sweet, he had skipped breakfast after all. He parked right in front of the store and hang his helmet on the handlebar, planning on making just a quick stop.

     The place was well decorated with wooden furniture and green plants that gave it a cozy feeling. There was only a lady in line in front of the cashier and Jungkook couldn’t help but notice her. She was all jittery, dancing on the balls of her feet, making her hair bounce softly.

     “Two iced americanos, one caramel macchiato and one flat white.” he heard her order in a sweet voice. “Oh, and one hot chocolate with extra cream, please. And marshmallows if you have them, thanks.”

     He watched her pay and move to the right where another waiter had started preparing her order. He could hear her humming and it made him smile. She was clearly having a good day.

     “I’ll get the same thing as the lady.” he found himself saying. “Not all of it. Just the hot chocolate part. To go, please.”

     The woman turned her head around at the sound of his voice and he could finally get a look at her face. She looked young, probably around his age, and was undeniably beautiful. He felt her studying him as well and he smiled.

     She smiled back. “Marshmallows are indispensable.” she said.

     “Only when paired with cream.” he grinned.

     “I see you’re a man of good taste.” she replied tilting her head slightly.

     “It takes one to know one.”

      They looked at each other for another moment, without saying a word before the waiter interrupted the comfortable silence by calling both of their orders. Jungkook lingered for a moment, pondering whether he should help her with her heavy tray. But before he could act on his thought the woman picked it up easily and looked up at him again.

     “Have a nice day.” she smiled once more at him.

     He sighed internally, strangely disappointed, and picked up his hot paper cup. “You too.”

     Driving away from the coffee shop, Jungkook found himself regretting not asking for that girl’s number.

2018

     This was the best day of her life. Y/N was sure of it.

     She had just been promoted to senior journalist at her newspaper, which was a hell of a big thing seeing that the competition was fierce and she had less work years on her curriculum than others. Apparently, someone thought she deserved it. And damn well, she did!

     It wasn’t common for a 24 year old woman to achieve such a position for a major newspaper. Not even if she slept with the director himself - which she didn’t.

     If she had to be honest, she was completely caught by surprise. Not because she doubted her abilities, but because she had already prepared herself for years of being underappreciated. So, when she read the email, she actually cried.

     “I can’t believe how lucky you are.” Yoongi had commented, sipping on a glass of red wine. He was, of course, the first person she called after her parents. “You literally live the picture perfect life.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Where to start,” he said ironically. “Best internship? You got it. Dream job? You got it. Your own apartment? Have you seen this place?” he listed on his fingers. “Big promotion at 24? Hell, yeah.”

     “Maybe I’m just that good at what I do.” she winked at him.

     “Okay. Let’s dig dipper.” Yoongi answered, putting down his glass on the table and starting counting on his other hand. “You have great parents who always supported you and had raised you damn well for being an only child.”

     “Thanks.”

     “Your first kiss was with none other than Kim Taehyung, who is Gucci’s current favorite male model.” he continued.

     “I should have kept in touch with him.” she nodded pensively.

     “You lost your damn virginity with our school’s most popular boy, Kim Seokjin.”

     “We both know how that ended.”

     “Yeah, but he’s the only exception, really.” Yoongi pointed out. “Every other story you had since you left him were completely peaceful. What’s with that? No drama at all! You literally have the record for most peaceful breakups!”

     Y/N laughed. “That’s because I am great at choosing people to be with. Look at you, you are my friend.”

     Yoongi nodded agreeingly. “Yeah, that too. You have the perfect best friend.”

     “That you are.” she rolled her eyes, amused. “Anyways,” she added, lifting her own glass of wine. “Let’s make a toast to my picture perfect life!”

     Later that week, Namjoon had convinced the group that there was no better way to celebrate Y/N’s promotion than doing something completely crazy. Like skydiving. His cousin happened to work in the office of a skydiving center and she had been urging him to try for years, but he never had the courage. The others weren’t sure why that day he finally changed his mind, but his speech was so convincing that they found themselves signing the papers without realizing it.

     Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok backed off just after the first hour of the lesson, some sense coming back to them. On the other hand, Y/N felt quite eager and excited. She never put too much thought on it, but she always liked the idea of skydiving. This would be her first try on anything more adrenalinic than a roller coaster, to be honest, so she was scared too. By the end of the lesson she felt so anxious and thrilled at the same time that she couldn’t utter a single word, only nodding or shaking her head to her instructor’s questions.

     Said instructor was one of the reasons Y/N felt so excited that morning. He didn’t seem to remember her, which was totally normal since the first and last time she had seen him was two years ago and for a total of five minutes. But he clearly left an impression because Y/N recognized him immediately.

     He was the same man she encountered at the coffee shop the day her very first article was published. He had ordered her same drink, a hot chocolate with extra cream and marshmallows. She remembered his black leather jacket, his bunny smile and his semicolon tattoo.

     Y/N had regretted not asking his number soon after he left the store. And she continued regretting it years later. She daydreamed about the handsome man from the coffee shop from time to time, but she had also surrendered to the fact that she would have never seen him again.

     So, finding out that she had been a friend’s cousin away from him and that they were going to jump in tandem together, really made her believe in Yoongi’s words. She did live the picture perfect life.

     She took it back soon after, though.

     The skydiving experience per se was incredible, like nothing she ever experienced. What went wrong was the aftermath. She was so drunk on the adrenaline that she made the stupidest, craziest, most unreasonable thing she could have ever done.

     She kissed him. Like hands planted on his face, kissed him.

     Needless to say, once the adrenaline rush was over, all she wanted to do was buy a shovel, walk barefoot to the most secluded place of the country and dig her 30 feet deep grave.

     As easily as that, what was supposed to be the most beautiful moment of her life became the most embarrassing. And if earlier that day she thought she could finally do what she couldn’t two years past, leaving the center - as she hid herself behind Yoongi’s not so big form - she was set on never thinking about his face ever again.

     Yet, as Hoseok started driving their car away from the parking lot, Y/N couldn’t help but hesitate. She had already regretted not going after him once and here was destiny, giving her a second chance. It wasn’t everyday that things like that happened, not with guys like Jungkook for sure. Besides, she already made a fool of herself, she had nothing to lose.

     “Stop!” she screamed scaring the hell out of Hoseok who hit the break hard by surprise.

     “What?!”

     “I’m going to ask for his number.” Y/N announced resolutely.

     She opened the car door and sprinted back to the center before she could change her mind.

     “This is even better than that time drunk Y/N had a cat fight with Namjoon’s ex girlfriend.” Yoongi said, laughing while watching his best friend from the side-view mirror.

     She found Jungkook at the front desk, chatting with another instructor, looking devilishly handsome in his suit. He was leaning on the counter with his elbow, drinking an energy drink as if it was beer. 

     She took a deep breath and walked to him with fierce. ‘Hi.”

     The man turned around at the sound of her voice, rising his brows in surprise. “Hi.”

     Y/N looked at him straight in the eyes, trying to overcome the embarrassment. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” she blurted.

     She watched as his eyes widened. She bit her lip, trying to ignore his colleagues who where enjoying the scene. Jungkook seemed to think about it, maybe a little to long and Y/N felt her cheeks redden, ready for the rejection. Yet, to her relief, after what felt an hour, he smiled.

     He leaned over the counter to grab a pen before taking her left hand in his. She followed his movements in awe as he carefully wrote his phone number on her palm. And then, ever teasing, he smirked down at her.

     The first thing Y/N did after getting inside Hoseok’s car, was to save Jungkook’s number to her contacts, she didn’t want to risk sweating on her palm and losing it.

     Now that she was finally back home, away from her teasing friends and finally able to reminisce about the eventful day in peace, Y/N found herself conflicted on whether she should call Jungkook now or wait for tomorrow. She didn’t want to appear desperate but at the same time she didn’t want to wait too long.

     Staring at her phone screen, she thought back at how sexy Jungkook had been, writing on her palm like that. It felt like a movie scene. She still couldn’t believe that she had met the handsome guy from the coffee shop again and that she had kissed him on a whim, on top of it all. 

     What if he gave her a fake number?

     “There’s only a way to find out.” she mumbled, picking up her cellphone from her kitchen table.

     Hi, she dialed. Simple.

     She started preparing dinner while she waited for his response, trying to stop herself from checking her phone every 5 minutes. She didn’t have to wait too long, though. She was just plating her steak when she heard the notification alarm go off and she almost flew across the room to get to her phone, out of excitement.

     “Hi.” the message read.

     “Is this Jungkook?” she replied quickly.

     “It is.”

     “I’m the girl who kissed you this morning.”

     “I figured.” he answered with three laughing emoticons.

     “Do you still like marshmallows on your hot chocolate?”

     “Are you a stalker?”

     Their first date took place two days later in a coffee shop near the skydiving center. Jungkook’s agenda was full and the only free time he had that week were two hours in between two dives. Y/N took it, it didn’t matter if she had to drive an hour to get to there.

     “I’m going to make up for it, I promise.” Jungkook said while paying for their orders. “I’ll pick you up next time.”

     Y/N tried not to get too excited thinking about a ‘next time’, she hadn’t been so giddy about a guy in so long and she didn’t want to get ahead of herself. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t too long of a drive.”

     She followed him to the nearest table. The place wasn’t anything fancy, it was quite spartan, in fact. It looked like an old family business, with outdated furniture, simple menus and loyal clientele. Y/N didn’t mind, their cappuccino was actually quite good.

     “So,” she started after a moment of awkward silence. “For how long have you been a skydiving instructor?”

     “A couple of years.” he answered curtly, taking a sip from his ice americano.

     “Cool.” Y/N quipped back. “And what got you into it?”

     “I love the adrenalin. I feel like flying.”

     “Yeah. I get that. Does it always feel the same, even after all the times you’ve done it?”

     Y/N grimaced internally. The conversation was sounding more and more like an interview rather than two people getting to know each other. Surprisingly enough, Jungkook didn’t meet her expectations. The cool guy guise he had going on didn’t meet with this timid demeanor. The ability to read people was a requisite in Y/N’s line of work and she thought she was quite good at it. Just two minutes into their date and she quickly realized that Jungkook wasn’t a talkative person. He didn’t seem to be uninterested, he actually looked into her eyes while replying to her questions, listening. He just wasn’t the type to elaborate on things if not asked to - which was a bit counterproductive in this particular situation. Nevertheless, Y/N wasn’t one who was easily discouraged, she was going to find a subject with which he felt more comfortable.

     It turned out it wasn’t easy. His job clearly wasn’t it, he didn’t seem to have any hobbies either, apart from biking. When she tried bringing up his family, he distinctly looked uncomfortable so she quickly changed the subject onto college. Not it, either. Eventually, she ended up doing all the talking and Jungkook, turned out to be a good listener. She talked and talked about whichever came to her mind, watching his reactions, and, fortunately enough, he really did seem interested in her stories as he laughed and commented at all the right moments. 

     Yet, two hours later, when his break was finally over and he had to go back to work, Y/N wasn’t sure what to think of him. Was he interested in her? Or was he not? Because despite him being so introverted she still wanted to see him again. Besides, two hours weren’t enough to judge a person and, if anything, the mystery made him even more attractive to her eyes.

     Nonetheless, she still had some pride left in her. She had made all the moves, it was his turn now.

     To her delight, Jungkook didn’t waste a second.

     “There’s going to be a fair a week from now in a seaside town a few kilometers from here. It’s one of those things on the piers with lots of games and old ferries wheels. Do you wanna go?”

     Y/N beamed ear to ear. “That sounds so cool.”

     This second date went a lot better.

     Jungkook picked her up in the late afternoon with his motorbike, as handsome as always with his black leather jacket.

     The drive to the fair is long, but neither of them mind. Y/N had never been on a bike before and couldn’t stop herself from hugging his torso tightly out of fear the first few minutes. But, as the time went by, and she realized Jungkook wasn’t driving as fast as it seemed, Y/N started actually enjoying the ride. As she relaxed more and more against his back, Jungkook started speeding up a little, the engine roaring underneath their legs. Y/N found herself laughing, making him smile as well. He knew that euphoric feeling well, it somehow resembled that of jumping from a plane.

     The pier was packed with people and the atmosphere was nothing but cheerful. Y/N had never been in a fair this big, with so many beautiful lights, shops, games and whatnot. She felt like a kid. A ten year old kid high on sugar.

     She was a ball of energy. She wanted to see and do everything. Within the first ten minutes since they arrived, she had dragged Jungkook to the cotton candy stand, the duck pond game and the balloon and dart game, where she discovered that she had really bad aim. By her third try, Jungkook finally pitied her and took things in hand. That’s how she ended up with the first of many plush toys.

     For dinner they decided to get some corn dogs and cheese fries at a stand overlooking the sea. This time Jungkook looked a lot more at ease and actually made an effort to talk about himself. Y/N enjoyed all the little things he shared. 

     She learned that he really liked romantic movies, one of his favorites being “The Notebook”, and that he had actually cried watching it. He wanted to learn how to play the guitar, but never got himself into buying one. He told her about his fears of microwaves and his fixation with laundry detergent, he laughed admitting that he had secretly bought a pair of those weird socks, those with toes, and actually found them quite comfortable.

     Y/N really had fun that evening. If Jungkook had looked like a cold one at first, by the end of the night he was anything but. He was sweet and attentive, lending her his jacket when the wind blowing from the sea started getting colder. He was smart and opinionated as they discussed about the latest front page article the newspaper she worked for had released. He was witty, funny even, in a very timid kind of way. He could look intimidating with his good looks, ear piercings and tattoos, but he was actually very cute and timid, a dichotomy that Y/N found endearing.

     On their way back home Y/N finds herself daydreaming about a goodnight kiss. The two had shared a couple of innocent touches throughout the evening, even holding hands as she pulled him towards the children’s rollercoaster, and she had indeed felt that little sparkle at the bottom of her stomach. The date had went well, at least she thought so. A kiss at her front door would have been the perfect ending to a great night.

     Yet, as they said their goodbyes, as she gave him his helmet back, Y/N’s expectations were disappointed.

     “I had fun tonight.” she said, grabbing her keys from her purse.

     “Me too.” Jungkook smiled sweetly at her. “Haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a while, actually.”

     Y/N grinned. Something deep inside told her it was kind of a big deal. “Yeah? I’ll take all the credit, if you don’t mind.”

     He giggled. “That you do.”

     An awkward silence followed in which both of them seemed to wait for the other to make a move. They waited and waited until the right moment passed and the situation got too embarrassing.

     “Well, thanks for the ride.” Y/N said after a while.

     “N-no problem.” Jungkook replied, scratching the back of his neck.

     “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

     “Sure.”

     Y/N gave him a very awkward wave and walked to her building, internally scolding herself. But then, just as she was about to close the door behind her, she heard Jungkook calling her back. She looked up at him curiously, still standing on the sidewalk where she had left him.

     “Are you free next Monday night?” he asked hurriedly, biting his lip worriedly.

     Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. She felt like they were back in high school, still new to the world of dating. He was just too cute, all awkward and dancing on the balls of his feet.

     “I very much am.”

     That Monday, Jungkook took her out for dinner in a fancy restaurant. He had showed up at her apartment wearing a white button down and black tailored pants that fitted him perfectly. He had brought her flowers, a beautiful composition of lilies that took Y/N’s breath away.

     She too had decided to dress up. She wore her so called battle dress: red and strapless that made all of her curves justice. Paired with black stilettos she was ready to leave an impression. And that she did. Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes away from her.

     “You look very beautiful tonight.” he had told her after giving their orders to the waiter.

     “You look very handsome as well.” she had flirted.

     After spending the weekend texting each other at any given minute, Jungkook had finally started getting a little more confident, getting slowly used to Y/N’s more extrovert self.

     “I was a mess when I was little.” she was telling him that very moment, cutting through her steak. “There was this one time that I almost set fire to the house while making microwaved popcorn with my friends.”

     “Told you microwaves are dangerous.” he commented.

     “And I broke so many bones when I was little.” she continued, smiling at the memory. “When I was 11 I broke my ankle playing at the park. There was this little girl who was pretending to be a ballerina, twirling around in the playground. I had been taking dance lessons since I was 8 and I really loved it, so I joined her and we pretended to be on a big stage with props and all. Anyways,” she laughed. “There was this wooden castle with swings and a slide which was a perfect setting. Little did we know that it was actually under maintenance, with chains and stops signs that we failed to acknowledge, too occupied with our ballet. Moral of the story we both fell into a hole, seven meters from the ground. I think she broke an arm.”

     Jungkook let out an audible gasp, making her look up from her dinner. “When was this?” he whispered.

     “I told you, I was 11. Why?” she furrowed her brows. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

     “Was she your age? The other girl, I mean.”

     Y/N shook her head. “She was definitely younger, maybe 6 or 7. Are you ok?” she was starting to get worried, he looked a little pale.

     “Do you remember what she was wearing?” he mumbled, looking at her with his eyes big as saucers.

     Y/N suddenly giggled because, as strange as it might have been, she actually did. “Of course, she had a very sparkling purple tutu. It was one of the reasons she caught my attention.”

     Jungkook gulped. “I think that was my sister.”

     Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Really? That’s so cool! Do you think she’d remember me?”

     “She died.” he replied almost automatically, making Y/N’s smile drop. “Five years ago.”

     “I’m so sorry.” she whispered, her heart aching for him. “It must have been very hard for you and your parents.”

     “They’re dead too. A car accident when I was 19.” Jungkook revealed.

     Y/N didn’t know what to say, completely taken aback. She never expected a news like this. “Shit, Jungkook.”

     The boy looked up at her, getting back to reality. He grimaced, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to drop it on you like that.”

     “You don’t have to be.” she tried to reassure him. “It’s my fault, I guess.”

     “It is a weird coincidence, though.” he said in an afterthought. “That you and my sister met all those years ago. What are the chances?”

     “Yeah.” she smiled slightly. “Might be destiny.”

2019

     It hadn’t been easy for Y/N to make Jungkook open up to her. It didn’t take her long to realize that he had a lot of baggage, a lot of heavy ones, and she had to admit it did scare her. The two of them were polar opposites. Where he was reserved she was outspoken, where he was cautious she was impulsive. His life had been a continuous challenge, whereas hers was nothing but perfect.

     The first time he really opened up to her, Y/N’s automatic response was crying. She had tried not to because she wanted to show him strength, but she couldn’t help it. Jungkook had sadly dried her tears as he told her about how difficult the last years had been, as he explained the meaning behind his semicolon tattoo and how many times he had struggled to maintain his own promise. He had given her an exit, telling her that he understood if she didn’t want to deal with his troubles. It was only for a brief moment, but Y/N had to admit that a part of her wanted to take that offer. Yet, she didn’t. She was already too much into him to let him go.

     The first few months she was the one who took the lead in their relationship. She didn’t mind, she understood why he was so wary. He had told her about his ex partners, about how his past had played a great part in their breakups. Yet, Y/N showed to be very different from the very beginning. She never pressured him, showing him patience and adapting to his own pace, and he never failed to show her how grateful he was for it.

     Y/N made Jungkook laugh, she had the weird ability to take away his worries. He felt carefree around her, light and cheerful. He soon realized that he craved for her presence. She was like the sun. 

     They got adventurous together. Every other week they would hop on Jungkook’s motorbike and ride across the country to go on hikes or picnics, to visit new cities and discover new places. She tried bungee jumping and hang gliding for the first time and he took her skydiving with him once again. Y/N had never felt more alive and, to her ignorance, Jungkook felt exactly the same. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy, really happy, like the way he felt when he was with her. He stopped having nightmares, stopped seeing everything in grey, stopped pretending his smile in front of others. And his change didn’t went unnoticed.

     Four months into dating Jungkook introduced Y/N to his aunt, Ahreum, his only living family. Y/N loved her, she was witty and intelligent and obviously cared for her nephew very much. The woman told her that she was the first one he ever brought for her to meet and that it probably meant that she was very special. She told her she was very thankful because Jungkook finally looked like the beautiful boy she once remembered, the one he was before he had lost everything. Y/N felt really emotional at her words, a little bit pressured but also very honored.

     The first time Y/N realized she was in love with him was when he told her he wanted to try the wingsuit. He had explained it to her excitedly, showing her pictures and videos on his phone, telling her that it was even better than skydiving, that it really was like flying. She wanted to be as thrilled as he was, show him her support, yet all Y/N could think about was how scary it looked. It was fascinating, yes, but it was undoubtedly very dangerous. The moment she felt real fear for his life, fear of losing him, was the moment she knew she had fallen in love with him. She had blurted the three words out, just like her style, the very moment she realized her feelings, interrupting Jungkook’s rumbling. His ears turned bright red, a big smile opening on his face, but he didn’t say it back. Instead, he made love to her until she fell asleep in his arms.

     Jungkook openly reciprocated her feelings only months later, when Y/N had finally given up on hearing the words out loud. She compensated by telling him ‘I love you’ every chance she got. 

     Almost a year into their relationship, on his dead sister’s birthday, Jungkook confessed his last secret: the letters. He had kept the wooden box to himself, never quite ready to reveal this side of him, to show her tangible proof of the dark moments he had lived. They had read them together, snuggled in his bed and sipping on some red wine. They had laughed realizing how many times their lives had crossed over the years, she cried going through Jungkook’s tear stained writing with a finger. 

     That same day, on Haneul’s 20th birthday, Jungkook asked Y/N to accompany him to the cemetery. 

     Standing in front of the two gravestones, hand in hand, Y/N saw the man crying for the very first time.

     “I’m in love with you.” he sobbed making her heart skip a beat. “You took away my fear. I’ve been scared for years, Y/N. Since my parents died, since I lost my sister. I was scared of life, all this time I was scared of living.” he confessed, looking down on their intertwined fingers. Y/N felt her eyes water, aching for his words. “You brought back the light into my life. And I know it isn’t easy being with me, I know I’ve been a burden and that I still am. I am.” he insisted as Y/N started shaking her head. “I know I still have a lot of work to do and I’m not sure it does ever really end. But I wanted to tell you how grateful I am to have met you and that I sincerely believe our lives were meant to cross each other. I’m sorry for taking too long to say it back, but I really, really, love you Y/N. I really do.”

2022

     Y/N walked carefully through the pathways. Despite all the years, she still couldn’t remember the way and she didn’t want to get lost in a cemetery. She had brought with her three simple bouquets and a book. Her book.

     Jungkook was waiting for her at his family’s gravestones. It was his sister’s birthday and just like every year he had gotten ahead to have a little alone time with her. He had made it a tradition, he had stopped writing her letters and had started visiting her tomb instead. He still didn’t like speaking to her out loud, he still found it uncomfortable, but he liked making great conversations with her inside his head. He would tell her trivial things, like how his day went or his plans for the future. Most times he would tell her he missed her.

     He turned around, hearing someone approaching and smiled at the sight of his fiance. He reached out a hand that Y/N took readily. “Hey, you.”

     The woman gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Hey you, too.”

     “Is that it?” he asked with a smile, eyeing the book she was holding.

     Y/N nodded, setting the flowers down on the stones. “It is. Fresh off the press. I wanted you to have the first copy, it’s your story after all.”

     Jungkook looked down at the volume now in his hands. He still remembered clearly the day Y/N had tentatively shared her idea of writing a book about him. It was shortly after he had decided to quit his job at the skydiving center. He had gotten into an almost fatal accident with the wingsuit, his emergency parachute opening just in time for him to end up with both arms broken and not splattered against the face of a mountain. Y/N had threatened, dead serious, to leave him if he ever gave her another scare like that, saying that she had enough of praying that he would land safely in once piece everytime he wore his suit. As it turned out, Jungkook had grown tired of it too. By the time he was discharged from the hospital, with months of physical therapy ahead of him, he had made up his mind: the adrenalin of jumping from a cliff wasn’t worth the risk of living a life without Y/N. He still skydived, from time to time of course, but not as frequently as before. He realized that he finally cared about his life again. 

     Sharing this realization with Y/N one night, the woman found the courage to talk about the little project she had in mind, one that she had been scared to voice out loud in fear of his reaction. She wanted to write a book, a biography of Jungkook’s life. The journalist in her couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that this was indeed a great story to be told. A story of loss and rebirth.

     Some time after they started dating, Y/N convinced Jungkook to give therapy another chance, this time really believing in its purpose and really willing to open up. The process had been long and definitely not easy, he had to go through a lot of ups and downs, until one day he realized all of his anger towards those who had left him and toward those who had taken them away from him had dissipated. 

     As Y/N feared, Jungkook hated the idea of the novel at first. They fought, harder than they ever did. He got really angry, accusing her of wanting to make an income out of his suffering. She had tried to explain that she never meant to mention his name nor any of those of his family, that she wanted to use fictional characters, but Jungkook didn’t want to hear any of it. They didn’t speak for weeks, Y/N even sleeping at Yoongi’s apartment to avoid the heavy atmosphere. She really thought she had ruined everything, worrying that he would go back to those dark places because of her.

     To her surprise, it was Ahreum who came to her help. Jungkook had told her about the reason why the two of them where on the verge of breaking up and the old woman had voiced her disapproval. She actually liked the idea of their story being told, she thought that if anything it gave meaning to all of their pain. Besides, she thought it could help others going through the same things he had gone through.

     His internal conflict wasn’t easy to get over to, but at the end, thinking about how he had struggled alone all those years, how he thought no one could understand him, how he had wished he had someone to rely to, Jungkook finally changed his mind. And one night he showed up at Yoongi’s apartment, looking for his girlfriend, his wooden box of memories under one arm.

     More than a year had passed since then and both Y/N and Jungkook looked forward to the book’s publishing. They had chosen a simple yet significant tile for it: ‘Someone’.

     “Can you believe it’s finally done?” Y/N asked him.

     “You’ve done a very good job.” Jungkook said kissing the crown of her head.

     “You too, my brave, brave man.”

     Jungkook smiled at the nickname, one that Y/N loved to use but that he never felt his. She never failed to see the better in him, she never failed to remind him that he was enough and even more. She saved his life, he had told her as much just the night before, kneeling on one knee with a diamond ring in his hands. 

     “You really are my ‘someone’, do you know that?”

No One was hands down the most heartbreakingly beautiful story I've read in my 10 years on this hellsite. I am in awe of the emotions of loss that you've managed to evoke while somehow managing to bring the story to a close with a sense of hope.

I will FOREVER cherish this story. Thank you for sharing it. 💜

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! Writing No One wasn't an easy ride, but it left so much in me as well.

Thank you for reading and finding the time to write to me. Luv you!

Forever Mine (MYG)

Pᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Tʜᴇ ғᴇᴀʀ ғᴇsᴛɪᴠᴀʟ ʙʏ @taetaecherub (please check out everyone else’s work, they deserve it and are amazing ppl!!)

Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!Pᴜʀɢᴇ!Yᴏᴏɴɢɪ x Fᴇᴍ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Gᴇɴʀᴇ: Hᴏʀʀᴏʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, Tʜᴇ Pᴜʀɢᴇ, Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, violence, death, possessiveness, mature themes, weapons such as knives and guns, feeling trapped w nowhere to go, yandere themes, reader is creeped out, stalking. yoongi is practically crazy. kidnapping, being tied up.

authors note: viewer discretion is heavily advised when reading this, this can be very triggering to some and you should NOT proceed if you can get triggered by these themes. you have been warned, you’re reading this at your own risk! stay mindful and only read if you can! thank you to my friend who helped mashallah 🥰

Wᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.2k+

Aᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ @introgfx

Sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Another year, another purge. Every crime made legal including murder. You think you’re safe this year as you have been for the past few years, but you couldn’t be more wrong, because you truly don’t know what lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce. You could never be too careful of what follows you and wishes you were only his.

You always thought this whole purge thing was stupid. For your government to say, hey! You get to do whatever the fuck you want while we stand back and watch you all murder each other. Who even thinks of that messed-up shit? You think murder should be off the table. It's just completely barbaric.

But fortunately for you, you could stay away from this insanity in the comfort of your perfectly safe home. Every year after it ends, you always see extreme chaos and tragedy, but you've never been used to it. It sickens you to the bone.

So here you are, getting ready for this year's purge, another year of the same bullshit. You sigh as you make sure everything is in place, as it is close to commencing.

You are startled when you hear something fall over in your safe house. At times like this, you wish you weren’t alone. But you would defend yourself if needed. Quickly, you grab a knife and go to investigate what the noise was. You try not to make a peep as you don’t want to alarm a person of your presence.

What you find instantly puts you at ease. You find that your cat knocked over a box. Sighing, you put the knife down and picked Shadow up. “C'mon Shadow. You shouldn’t be doing that at a time like this. You gave me a heart attack.”

He only meowed in response, staring into the distance almost as if someone were there. You look around and notice everything is okay and as it should be.

You walked over to the tv, with him in your arms, waiting for the announcement. It appeared on your screen, already making you nervous. The lady goes on to say that the annual purge is commencing and will last 12 hours. You ignore the rest and start petting shadow.

You make sure to sound out a text to your relatives and close friends to make sure they stay safe.

It seems to go without a hitch, the worry you were feeling earlier did dissipate. No one would come to your safe house because it was in a reclusive spot.

But that moment of serenity was quickly interrupted by shadow’s hissing. Jesus. What could that cat be at again? “Oh for god's sake, there’s nothing there, calm down.” Getting up from your sofa, you follow the cat’s hissing.

“Will you knock it off? What has gotten into you?” Shaking your head, you look at the closet he seems to have his eyes set on. What you failed to notice was a pair of eyes watching your every move.

“Go.” You shooed him out of the bedroom and decided it would be good to just lie down for a bit.

~~~~

Ever since he laid eyes on you, he was immediately captured by your beauty. Something he hasn’t found in anyone else ever before.

He wanted to get to know you, but he wanted you to be his and only his.

He was always self aware of how he acted around you, trying to be sweet and kind but deep down he wanted to just make you his, but he knew he had to play it smart, to gain your trust.

He became a barista in your favorite café because of the beauty you possessed when you studied and your cute smile when you take the first sip of your favorite drink.

There was one instance that Yoongi seemed off with you but he lied and blamed it on his annoying co-worker babbling about how great her cousin Dae is. Gosh he couldn’t stand her.

He became the teacher assistant of every class you took, so he can see how your mind works and how you do in class so he can be around you more.

He became a hairstylist so he can touch your hair and become drunk on the unique texture of your hair. He wanted an excuse to touch you and see you styled up before anyone else.

When you asked about why he was everywhere, he gave an elaborate lie about how difficult it is to take care of his younger siblings. You believed his fake kindness and smiled at him each time you saw him to bring ease in his “burdensome” life. Each time you smiled for him he craved you more.

Yesterday, when you smiled, he dropped his drink he made for you. You giggled at his foolishness. Your small sound of happiness almost made him reach for you across the counter.

One more day, he told himself then. To see you in your room, asleep in your natural state of beauty, your expression so serene and helpless, he couldn't help but kiss you on the forehead. You stirred in your sleep, causing Yoongi’s eyes to go wide.

Yoongi cursed under his breath, “You didn't wake up the other times.”

Fortunately for him, you went back to sleep.

He picked you up bridal style, moving as slowly as possible to not disturb your sleep. Making his way to his car, he carefully placed you inside and got in himself.

Then he took off to his house.

~~~~

You woke from your sleep feeling out of it, you must’ve had a good sleep. As soon as you opened your eyes you noticed your hands were bound to a chair, rendering you useless.

Panic started seeping in, you thought you were screwed because the purge was still in commence. The only thing that seemed to calm your panicked state was a familiar meow.

You looked up to see shadow in the room with you. You let out a sigh of relief knowing that you were still with him and still in your house.. or so you thought.. You took in the surroundings around you but nothing seemed familiar.

You began to thrash around in the chair desperate to be free of whoever tied you up. Your ears perked up once they heard footsteps approaching you. You immediately stopped and pretended to still be asleep.

The person who walked in seemed to carry themselves lightly, they seemed to be very strategic about what they were doing. You heard them take a deep breath.

“Finally you’re here.. and you will forever be mine.. still so beautiful.” You felt a hand touch your cheek and you tried your hardest to not flinch. You opened your eyes slightly only to be met with the sight of a man wearing a purge mask.

Great. Fucking fantastic. Some lunatic got you. Your heartbeat soon picked up again, you needed to get out of here quickly. God knows what he wants with you.

There was no easy way out of this, so you knew you had to be smart about it. Your life was on the line and you would do anything to protect yourself.

You felt the presence of the man leave you and you became filled with relief. You obviously had no time to waste. You snapped your eyes open and looked around once more.

There didn’t seem to be a lot of things around to help you, the room almost seemed bare. Too bare.

You tried using your mouth to unbind the rope but it of course wasn’t like the movies and it's much more difficult when it’s happening to you.

You managed to stand up a little, you hoped this idea would work because if it didn’t you’d be dead. You took a deep breath in and fell backwards.

Your back and the chair met the ground with a loud bang. You coughed violently as the wind got knocked out of you. It seemed to get the attention of your kidnapper as you heard hurried footsteps approaching.

You quickly untied yourself and grabbed a piece of the broken wood and hid in a closet. You held your breath as you saw the man become irritated that you weren’t there.

You took this as your chance and ran out of the closet. You hit him over the head with the wood, and he let out a groan and fell to the ground.

“Are you kidding me?!” He seemed to be seething.

“After everything, I finally have you and you treat me like that?!”

You didn’t want to stay there any longer and decided to run like the fucking wind to get out of there.

“Oh come on y/n! If I found you once, I can surely get you again~”

~~~~

You don’t know how long you were running. You didn’t plan on stopping either, even though your lungs were burning, desperate for a cool down and your legs soon becoming tired.

You noticed all the dead bodies littered on the street, the sight making you sick, everyone killed in a torturous way. Gunshots filled the air as you passed by and the sounds of knives cutting into flesh.

That’s all you ever heard while running, and all you could ever see was those stupid purge masks which seemed to haunt you relentlessly.

You managed to find a seemingly abandoned barn, the house near it being smashed up and you were not chancing it in there.

You climbed up onto the hay bales and then you flopped down onto it, trying to get back your breath and calm down. But all you could do was heave. You tried to think back to the kidnapper, his voice, it seemed so familiar, like you knew the person.

You became frustrated as you couldn’t remember and couldn’t put the voice to a face. You looked out into the night sky from a crack in the barn, you just wished this would end.

You had so many questions, and so many thoughts piling up in your head that it soon brought on a headache. You groaned out of pure frustration.

Your thoughts of course were soon interrupted, couldn’t you just be given peace for a bit longer?

You heard hushed voices, and quiet footsteps. Alerted, you hid, trying not to be seen or caught.

“Dae.. do you think this is a good idea? What if someone comes out and tries to kill us?! We barely escaped out there!”

“Will you lower your voice before you get us killed? I’m sure we are fine, we are armed anyway.”

The two voices resonated throughout the barn, and you looked around for an exit, gosh you were having no such luck, whatsoever.

You looked around for a weapon just in case you needed to defend yourself. As you took a step forward the bales beneath you seemed to fall.

You let out a shriek and tried to grab onto something but it was too late. The two others who were in this barn with you seemed to notice and instantly drew out their guns.

Fuck. You got up and tried to make a run for it but that was instantly shot down by the sound of a gun going off and a searing pain travelling up your leg.

You fell to the ground with a whimper and turned your head to the two others. You saw two boys. One seemed older than the other and they started to approach you.

Meekly you spoke out to them “Please.. don’t hurt me, i'm not one of them..”

“Dae.. are you sure we can trust her..?”

“I don't know haneul.. Ms, are you armed?”

“No. If I was, I'd be able to defend myself.” You hissed as you sat yourself up, you examined your wound and almost threw up. Blood was not your thing.

“Can you help me please?! This hurts like a bitch.”

The two seemed to rush over to you and tried their best to help you. You noticed the younger one speak up.

“I’m sorry for shooting you.. I got scared and Dae told me not to hesitate.”

“You trusted the young one with a gun?” You sent a pointed look towards dae and he seemed to shrug, he examined your wound.

“Well good news, you won’t die, but this will hurt.”

“Well obviously but don’t-“ You were interrupted by your own screams, and dae wrapped your leg and applying pressure.

~~~~

As he worked on your leg and you let out a few strings of curses here and there, you couldn’t help but notice the similarities between Dae and Haneul. You all made small talk and introduced yourselves properly.

“Brothers?” You were met with silent nods.

“How did you end up here y/n?” You hummed as haneul asked that question.

“Well… some guy, he uh, kidnapped me and I broke free. Adrenaline seemed to be on my side as I bolted the hell out of there, but what was weird was that.. he seemed so so familiar.”

You noticed the pair gave you looks that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Look. I think it's best that we get out of here. Wait the night out somewhere safer.”

You agreed and got up, it wasn’t easy as your wound was still fresh, but you tried your best to forget about the pain.

~~~~

Oh he was pissed. So pissed. But he couldn’t help but blame himself, he should’ve thought of a better way to keep you safe and you seemed to know how to fight which he was surprised by.

He didn’t take too long to chase after you, but lost you, not because he was bad at tracking, no he was too good at that.

It was rather a bunch of red balloons that seemed to float around and also some guy that reminded him of a jack in the box chasing after a girl. He never quite saw anything like it.

But he was quick to get back to his mission of finding you. He needed you back, he was miserable without you, and he thought the both of you had a good bond.

He seemed to also have an encounter with a young boy and his older brother. Now, Yoongi being cunning and smart, he thought he could scare the two but.. why not come to a deal?

He knew he could get his own way, so he did what he had to do, and now he had a pretty sweet deal. The two would find you and he would spare their lives. Oh it was so simple and Yoongi even congratulated himself for his efforts.

You were not getting away that easily.

~~~~

You seemed to bond with the boys quite well. You also found out that you were close in age to Dae and you also took quite a liking to him already.

You couldn’t lie he was actually really handsome and a nice guy once you got to know him. You all did take it easy and tried your best not to get killed because it was still dangerous outside.

The dangers would soon go away though as the purge almost seemed to be over.

Or so you thought..

The three of you arrived at a store as you all were thirsty and in need of some food, and since crime was legal why not steal?

Haneul seemed to find a radio and turned it on, it was a good idea because you had no idea what was going on as you were taken from your own home.

You listened in as you all ate and drank. The radio wasn’t very good as you couldn’t make out much and it was all very static like.

The one thing that did grab your attention was the announcement that left you all shocked.

“W-we are sorry-… the p-purge is out of control, it seems to be lasting longer than usual.. god save us”

“Everyone is m-moving to t-the b-border, to seek refuge, please get there soon.. not much time..”

You all gave each other the same look, the look of disbelief, they did not have this under control. At all.

“Guys we need to go. I do not want to be stuck here.”

They both looked up at you not moving at all. But rather their eyes kept shifting from behind you to your eyes.

“What? Do you not want to..? We could finally be free! What’s even behind me..?” You turned round and your eyes met the same purge mask that you remember waking up to.

All the colour drained from your face and you stood there like a deer in the headlights.

“Wow. Well done boys. I didn't think you could actually do it.”

“Dae? Haneul? What is he talking about? Please help me, that's the guy I was telling you about.”

The lack of movement made you more angry and upset. Tears started welling up in your eyes. Their eyes are not even meeting yours at this point.

“We did what you wanted Yoongi.” Dae’s voice sounded out, almost void of emotion.

Wait. Yoongi? As in the Yoongi you knew? Your head started to spin and you started to break. The fuck was going on.

Yoongi removed his mask and gave you a wide smile. “Finally..”

Your whole body grimaced and the smile he gave you, irked you, it made you absolutely sick. What the hell did he want with you?

“No! You leave me the hell alone.” You started backing up and trying to get the guys to help you as tears started rolling down your face

Yoongi seemed unphased by your words and as he was walking towards you his eyes focused on your injured leg.

“What happened to her?! I thought I told you two to keep her safe and not injured!”

The two seemed to cower and stayed silent. Your heart broke, it seemed to shatter. They betrayed you.

“I’m not getting anywhere with this silence! You all better tell me right now!”

Yoongi stormed up to Dae and picked him up by his collar. “You better give me an answer right now before I kill you.”

Your eyes widened. “Yoongi please no..”

He seemed to be too focused on Dae to even be listening to you right now. “Well?” You got up and tried to pull Yoongi away from Dae but noticed the gun being pointed at his stomach.

“It wasn’t him. It was me.” Your eyes widened when you heard Haneul speak up. Yoongi's dark eyes snapped from Dae to Haneul.

“What do you mean?”

“I-I shot her.. by accident, she scared me!”

If Yoongi looked pissed off before, he seemed absolutely mad now. He went to grab Haneul but you quickly stopped him.

“He’s just a little boy. Leave him alone. Please.” You stared at him with wide eyes. Haneul didn’t deserve to die, you couldn’t let that happen, even though they both backstabbed you.

“Why should I y/n. He shot you.”

“I-I know.. but if you leave them be.. I’ll come with you right now. I won’t fight back. I won’t even try to run away.”

Yoongi's face seemed to calm down immediately. That man could really scare the fuck out of someone.

“You promise?”

You nodded and stood beside him. Yoongi seemed so happy, he gave you a massive hug.

Dae gave you an apologetic look and took his brother's hand.

“Go. I want to talk to them alone.”

Yoongi wanted to argue with you but you just shook him off and waited till he left to talk to them.

“You two better get to that border safely. I know I won’t be able to at this point. But please do.. I don’t know why you two did what you did.. but I understand somewhat.”

Your tears seemed to come back as you gave them both a kiss on the head goodbye.

“Good luck..”

You walked away from them both, with your head hung low.

“Dae I feel like we made a very bad choice…”

“Me too buddy… Me too…”

~~~~

You lied. Of course you did. There was no way in hell you were staying with this crazy son of a bitch.

As soon as you walked away from Dae and Haneul you started planning your escape. You wanted a happy life. Not a forced one.

“You have no idea how happy I am y/n that you finally agreed. I have been wanting you for so long and thanks to me I got you.”

You couldn’t help but feel repulsed. You just thought he was a sweet guy, a little weird but sweet.

“Sure..”

Your lack of answering made Yoongi frown.

“What’s wrong sweetheart.” Oh lord did you want to throw up.

“Nothing.” You sent him a tight lipped smile. But that only seemed to make him frown more.

“I tried to do my absolute best for you, to show you how great I can be for you. Why do you think I did what I did?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe to fucking stalk me?” Your eyes widened as soon as that sentence came out of your mouth.

“I wasn’t stalking you. I was looking out for you. You were so alone, and I know I’m perfect for you.”

He stayed close by, but not close enough after you made that comment. You hated this feeling. The feeling of being trapped.

This was a nightmare that would never end. You looked out a window and noticed that the atrocities were never ending. Gosh this was a horrible feeling.

You jumped once you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“I just couldn’t leave you, you’re too beautiful. All mine.” Yoongi sighed into your neck and you tried everything not to push him off.

“Yoongi.. I want to be alone. Can you do that please? Just leave me for a bit.”

Yoongi's grip on you tightened. “But I don’t want to, I want to spend all my time with you. I don’t want you leaving me…”

You heard his voice quiver. What could he be upset about?

“I promised you I wouldn’t.. But I just need some time to myself. I’m not asking much..”

He reluctantly let you go, and left you be. Gosh. He is so suffocating.

You heard something tapping the window and you looked out to see Dae and Haneul. Your eyes widened and they signaled you to come outside.

You looked around the room frantically to make sure Yoongi wasn’t around. You decided to chance it this time and went outside.

“We just couldn't leave you.. We felt too bad about even turning you in before. I just couldn’t live with myself..” Dae held your hand and gave it an apologetic squeeze.

“Oh shut up Dae, I know you’re crushing on y/n, but we need to go before psycho notices.”

~~~~

The trek to the border was mayhem. Avoiding getting killed was a big one but hiding from Yoongi and making sure he wasn’t following you was an even bigger task.

You were so so close.. Freedom was so near but of course he had to find you. He always could.

“You lied to me Y/N.” He surprised you and you jumped back and also let out a scream. Dae and Haneul rushed to your side quickly.

“I should’ve known you two had something to do with her disappearance! Why can’t you let me be happy with her?!”

“She’s not yours Yoongi. You can’t have her.”

That seemed to only fuel his anger.

“Yes she is! I saw her first! I practically cared for her and she is mine! Forever mine.”

Your heart started beating faster, you felt like it would jump out of your chest.

“Y/N. I need you and Haneul to go. Get across.”

“I’m not leaving you dae!”

“You have no choice Haneul! You will be safe and you’re with Y/N.”

You knew Dae wouldn’t budge on the argument and you took Haneuls hand and started running.

“You think you have a chance with her Dae? She’s mine, she will come back to me.”

“Keep on dreaming in that fucked up head of yours Yoongi.”

That's when everything started clashing, you and Haneul trying to make it to safety, while Dae and Yoongi were fighting.

It all happened so fast.

Two guns fired at the same time, one was successful and the other.. not so much.

You spun around and watched the two of them drop.

“Dae?!” You and Haneul shouted out at the same time.

But soon the rescuers on the other side seemed to notice you both and tried to take you both over. But you were relentless.

“No please! You have to help him! Please tell me he’s okay!”

The rescuers reassured you they would check, they just needed you two over first.

~~~~

“Hello Ms. That man you wanted us to check on, there only seemed to be one alive but the other disappeared after we were about to bring them over.”

Your eyes widened, surely he didn’t get away.

“Y/N…?”

But your prayers were answered. “Dae.. thank god.”

You and Haneul ran to him and instantly hugged him. “Gosh I’m so happy you’re okay..”

“Me too..”

You all were hugging and enjoying the moment of being alive and safe.

“You know Y/N.. you and my cousin seem to have a lot in common.. I just know you’d both get along..”

“Yeah he’s right Y/N!”

You giggled at the two. “That’s good.. I can’t wait to meet her then.”

As you three were enjoying it, and laughing away there was someone who wasn’t so happy and practically ready to commit another crime. He hated the site in front of him. Gosh he’d have to try harder next time.

please refrain from reposting and translating (unless permission is given).

everything belongs to me @lustfulpjm

Judge. Jury. Executioner.

He slapped the trash out of him (>u<；)

just a random trash doodle comic :p

F Corp, headed by your bisexual softie Daddy

f corp

Let’s update the Kill List! 

gorgeous ♡

wow…