What is it the you that you've dreamed of?
Who do you see in the mirror?

Yoongi collapsed on the couch. He felt like he should cry but his eyes were dry, and they were fixed on the broken picture frame that sat on the coffee table. He'd been pacing around the apartment for days now, until the sun rose and the birds chirped outside, but still he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't figure out why Chaerin had left.

Was she depressed like him? Did she just need a break from everything? Or did she hate him? And most importantly, was she coming back?

Yoongi didn't know the answer to any of these questions. He wasn't sure he ever would. But all he knew was that he wanted Chaerin back. She was his best friend, his family, she was all he really had in this world. And she didn't even know how important she was to him, because Yoongi was too stupid and stubborn and caught up in his own darkness to tell his best friend that he loved and appreciated her presence in his life. Chaerin didn't know that her smile brightened his day, that her laugh felt like the sun breaking through the clouds, that her very existence was a gift he knew he didn't deserve, but one he clung to like a desperate child.

The thing about his depression was that no matter how low he got, he had always managed to crawl his way back up, thanks to Chaerin. But without her, Yoongi's world would descend into a permanent darkness. He didn't want that. He wanted Chaerin back. Yoongi wanted her home.

He needed to talk to his best friend, but she wasn't there, and he had to talk to someone. Before Yoongi knew it, his phone was pressed to his ear and the dial tone was ringing. His leg bounced up and down with nervousness. These calls were always the hardest for him to make.

The dial tone clicked and a light static sounded on the line.

"Hello?" A gruff, tired voice answered his call.

"Hi dad."

"Yoongi, hey. We're we supposed to talk today? Did I forget? Oh man, I'm sorry—"

"No, no dad, we weren't supposed to talk today. It just that I—I needed to talk to someone." Yoongi's face fell into his free hand and he rubbed his exhausted eyes.

"What's wrong?" The genuine concern in his dad's voice was something Yoongi missed hearing in person.

"I don't...she just...I'm..." Yoongi's voice cracked. He didn't know how to phrase the words that he didn't want to admit as his reality. So he settled for not talking about it at all.

Yoongi sighed. "Is mom there?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." There was some shuffling and barely audible words exchanged on the line before his mother's soothing voice spoke through the phone.

"Yoongi?"

"Hi mom."

"Hey, my little man," although he wasn't at all in the mood to smile, hearing the grin in his moms voice made Yoongi's own lips quirk upwards just a bit.

"Mom, I'm a grown man now," he chuckled.

"Oh hush, I don't care how old you are, you'll always be my little man."

Despite himself, Yoongi smiled. The smile and the teasing tone in his moms voice somehow made his heart lighter. He knew she was still in the hospital, but he hoped she was better. She sounded better.

Yoongi sighed, "I love you mom."

The line was silent for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"Wh-what do you mean, mom?"

"Min Yoongi, I may not be around all the time, but I love you more than life itself, so I know when something is wrong with you. Now tell me everything."

Yoongi couldn't help it, he broke.

"I think I fucked up, mom," he whispered. "The studio that Chaerin made me, I destroyed it, I ruined everything. And then she got home and we got into a massive fight. I told her I can't do music anymore, it's not worth it. I'm not getting anywhere and I don't think I ever will. And then she yelled at me! She told me that her own dreams were going down the drain, and with the way things have been lately I know it's probably true. She said I wasn't the man she thought I was, that I was "rotting away", whatever the hell that means. She said I was giving up. Then she left and I...I don't know if she's coming back. But is it really so wrong to give up on something that isn't worth the struggle?"

"Oh Yoongi," his moms quiet voice sighed through the phone. "First of all, you're upset so I won't scold you about your language right now. And second of all, you're an idiot."

"Mom!"

"Don't "mom" me! Yoongi, for as long as I can remember you have been scribbling little lines of poetry on every scrap of paper you could find. And then your grandmother called me one day and said you had taken to playing her old piano. That was when I knew you were meant for something bigger than the life your dad and I could give you. You were meant for something better."

His mom took a deep breath before continuing. Yoongi just sat hunched over on his couch and listened to his mother's lecture. The fact that she had the energy to lecture him was a good sign, she really was getting better.

"I remember that you would call me every time you learned a new song, and you would put the phone down beside you and play it for me. And you were always so happy playing music, I know you were. The only other thing that I've ever heard you sound that happy about was Chaerin." Yoongi's breath hitched in his throat.

"You always told me how great she is and how she supported you more than anyone else. You said she was your very best friend—those are your own words. That girl is the biggest and best part of your life. And from everything you've told me over the years, it's not hard to see that Chaerin loves you. That girl has stuck by you through everything and believe it or not, she always does the right thing, you've said it yourself. So if she left, then she must have a damn good reason for doing it."

Yoongi stayed silent. He didn't want to confess that his mother was right, it would be like admitting defeat. But he knew that she was telling the truth.

The crinkle of paper caught Yoongi's ear. His eyes shot down to glance at his clenched fist, where a torn scrap of paper was quickly becoming crumpled. Dark ink peaked out from one folded edge of the paper.

Don't give up.

Yoongi inhaled a shuddering breath and collapsed back on the couch. "She told me not to give up. What does that mean, mom?"

"What do you think it means?"

His eyes narrowed, he didn't like being cross examined. "I don't know! I mean the whole fight we had was about her accusing me of giving up on my music, so I guess that's what she was talking about," Yoongi sighed. "Chaerin doesn't want me to quit my music?" 

"Yes, that's very possible," his mom agreed.

But she didn't say what she was really thinking. His mother hoped that Yoongi wouldn't give up on his friendship, because in full disclosure, she'd always thought that Chaerin and Yoongi would be a wonderful couple. From the very first call, when Yoongi said he'd made a new friend, his mom had hoped that this girl would help him through his troubles. And she did. That same girl that "wouldn't leave him alone", as he'd put it, stuck by Yoongi for the next eight years. From the way that he talked about her, Yoongi's mother knew that he felt something for her, even if he didn't know it himself.

"So I should keep making music?" Yoongi sounded almost defeated as he asked the question.

"I'm not going to tell you what you should do, or try to put words in your mouth. All I'm going to say is that if you love it, don't ever let it go."

"Okay..."

"Just think about it, you'll figure things out eventually. But right now I have another check up so I have to go. I love you, my little man."

"Love you, mom. Say bye to dad for me."

"Of course. Bye sweetie."

"Bye mom." The line clicked and a long beep droned through the phone.

Yoongi's head fell back and his tired eyes slid shut. Talking to his mom usually helped him, and he had to admit that he felt a bit lighter after their conversation. But he was also more confused than ever.

Don't give up.

What the hell did that mean? What didn't Chaerin want him to give up on? Yoongi thought it was his music, and his mom agreed, but it sounded like there was something else she wasn't telling him.

The fight that had taken place not twelve hours ago sprung to Yoongi's mind. Guilt weighed on his chest at the thought of her broken expression when she saw what he'd done, but Yoongi kept his back turned to the studio, he didn't want to see the wreckage. Chaerin had been so mad and confused when she saw how Yoongi had destroyed the studio. All the yelling and Yoongi's own pulsating emotions hadn't allowed him to listen to the things that Chaerin was saying. But now that he'd spent half a day thinking and overanalyzing her every word, a realization began to dawn upon him. Don't give up. That could mean a lot of things. But in this particular situation, and after the fight they'd had, Yoongi was almost one hundred percent certain that Chaerin was referring to his music. It had to be the music. What else could it be?

Yoongi threw his feet up on the couch. The sound of crumpling paper echoed through the lonely apartment when his feet fell down on top of his earlier discarded jacket. He reached over and dug through the jacket pockets while his eyebrows drew together. Yoongi yanked the wrinkled flier out of his jacket pocket and unfolded the page.

Big Hit Entertainment
Music & Artist for Healing.
_____________________
Seeking new talent. 
Auditions currently being held.

An entertainment company. Yoongi had never given thought to being part of a company, but it was becoming clear that he couldn't make his music dreams a reality on his own. And Chaerin told him not to give up. Maybe he should just try it.

He would go to this one audition and if it didn't work out then he would give up his music for good. Yoongi swore to himself that this was his last attempt, after this he was done. If this company didn't accept him then he would get a normal job and live a normal life.

One audition.