The fact that you're not crazy
in a crazy world
is crazy

Chaerin flipped over onto her side and pulled the blankets up to her chin. She settled into her spot and and lifted her eyes to the bedroom window. The view was different. She glanced out the window and she didn't see the side of her neighbors house. Instead she saw the flower-filled backyard that belonged to Grandma Min. And while the view of moonlit flowers was beautiful, it was unfamiliar.

She wanted to sleep. Chaerin wanted so desperately to fall asleep and stay that way until all the bad things went away. But she couldn't. This was Chaerin's third night spent at Grandma Min's house, and she still couldn't sleep. Chaerin yanked the covers over her head and turned away from the widow.

The air under the covers was warm and soon enough Chaerin used up all of the oxygen. It was getting harder to breathe. It felt like she was suffocating. But it wasn't much different from how she always felt nowadays. Every minute that ticked by felt like another brick being piled up on her chest, another weight being added to the load. And Chaerin couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe because of the tomb sitting on her heart.

The covers were flung away and air rushed into her lungs, but that didn't make it any easier to breathe. There was only one thing that could help her. Chaerin kicked off the rest of her blankets and placed her bare feet on the cold floor. She crept over to the door and pulled it open. It didn't squeak. Her bedroom door always squeaked. By this wasn't her bedroom, at least not the one she had grown up in.

Chaerin tiptoed down the hall. She stopped in front of a familiar room, noticing the dim light shining from the crack under the door. For the first time in seven years, she didn't knock. Chaerin pushed the door open and stepped inside, quietly closing it behind her.

Yoongi glanced up from his notebook. He'd been writing for a while now. Three days had passed since he had sat down at that piano with Chaerin and finally played for the first time in two years. It was like opening the floodgates. As soon as the music stopped the thoughts started. He hadn't been able to stop writing for days now. Songs and lyrics just came flying from his pen and onto the page. He'd finally put to use the old journal that his mother had given him as a parting gift seven years ago. But as consuming as the songwriting process was, Chaerin was his main concern right now.

She stood by the door, glassy eyes focused on the floor. Her skin was pale, her hair was stringy and tangled, and her pajamas hung loosely on her tiny frame, she hadn't been eating. In short, she looked awful.

"Chae," he called, "Why are you still up?"

"I couldn't...I couldn't sleep," she croaked. "I haven't slept for days. I-I'm just so tired."

Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying. All she knew was that her limbs felt like rubber, her mind felt numb, and she was beyond exhausted.

Yoongi laid down his notebook and stood from the cramped desk chair. He approached Chaerin the way someone approaches a frightened animal, with slow, careful steps. When his hands gripped her shoulders, Chaerin's eyes snapped up to his face. The broken, hollow look on her face was far too familiar to him. It was the look he saw every day when he looked in the mirror.

"Come on."

Yoongi gently guided Chaerin to his unused bed and pulled back the covers, helping her sit. She laid down on the bed and he pulled the blankets over her. He crossed over to the other side of the bed and slid beneath the covers as well. The bed was small, so he laid on his side facing Chaerin's back, waiting for her to turn and face him.

"Chae," he called her but got no response.

He put a steady hand on her shoulder just to let her know he was still right there beside her. Just as Yoongi's eyes were dropping closed and sleep was about to take over, Chaerin turned around. She lay on her side, facing him, staring at him with her doe eyes. For once, he couldn't tell what she was feeling.

"I can't do this."

Yoongi's eyebrows drew together, "Do what?"

"I can't live like this," Chaerin's voice sounded robotic, as if death was speaking through her lips.

"I'm happy, I'm a happy person. But this week has been hell on earth, and I can't live like this. I don't like feeling this way, I don't like it at all, Yoongi," she admitted to him and her teary eyes flickered up to his face, looking positively desperate.

"How do I make this feeling go away? Make it go away. Please, Yoongi."

Chaerin's quivering hands clutched Yoongi's shirt. And when she lay her head on his chest he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her closer.

"I know the feeling," he started. "I've felt it every day for seven years now. And if I knew how to make it go away, I would, in a heartbeat. But I don't know how to make it go away, I have no idea how to fix this, Chae. But I've learned something in these past years," he whispered into her hair. "There's no way to make it go away, but you can make the days easier to live and the nights easier to bare."

"How?" She croaked into his shirt, clinging to her friend for dear life.

"You find a person you love and you don't let them go for anything," Yoongi told her. "You're my person. You make the days easier and the nights bearable," he admitted. "I can't fix you—hell, I can't even fix myself—but I can be your person."

For a while they were silent. Nothing but the crickets chirping outside and Chaerin's broken sobs were heard. Then a tiny, broken whisper filled the room.

"You already are my person," she murmured.

Yoongi nodded into Chaerin's hair and placed a gentle kiss on her head. "Good."

They lay together for a while longer. There was no need for words between them. All the two of them need was their best friend—their person—by their side. And they had that.

"Are you awake?" Yoongi spoke quietly, just in case she was finally asleep.

"Hm," she hummed into his chest, being too exhausted to form actual words.

"Did you mean what you said that one time," he questioned. "Do you really want to be an actress?"

Chaerin was quiet for a minute and Yoongi thought that she might have fallen asleep.

"Yes." Her voice was small but it was sure. "I didn't really know before, it was just something I thought about, because I knew that I didn't want to—" her voice broke. "I didn't want to leave my grandmother alone. But now I'm sure. She always told me to do something that would make me happy. Well I want to do this. I want to be an actress. But really I just want to make her proud."

Her grip on Yoongi's shirt tightened a little more. He didn't know what to do to help her through this. All he could do right now was hold her.

"You will, Chae. You're going to make her proud," he promised her. "It's you and me. We're in this together, and we're going to make your grandmother proud."

Yoongi didn't know how or when or how long it was going to take, but he was going to keep his promise, no matter what.

"Do you still want to be a musician?" Chaerin whispered to him, her small voice filling the room.

"Yes." There wasn't a drop of uncertainty in his voice. He knew what he wanted.

"Okay," she sighed. "It's me and you then. We're going to do this, Yoongi," her voice was filled with determination.

"Together."