Chapter Text
_Hush baby, The angles are telling you a story.
-I.R
_little Sounds. Part 1: Breath
“A waiter?”
“I am one already.”
“Kindergarten teacher?”
“Jimin?”
“A babysitter?” Jimin’s eyes fell upon his friend’s motionless face, nothing about his mint hair and constant grumpy face looked suited for being a babysitter.
“Why am I friends with you again?” Yoongi’s lips pursed, forming the question as the younger one was searching around the newspapers, helping him to find a job.
Yoongi didn’t want to admit it, but the sigh that his younger friend let out as he put down the morning newspaper made him more disappointed than before.
Things had been extremely rough during these past few weeks, he was getting through more difficulties with the bills than before, and his pre-job in a shitty Restaurant wasn’t that helpful to count on either.
Looking for a new job, or even a second job was the first solution that crossed his tired mind as he was glaring down on the bills and school fees. Looking back at him innocently, waiting not really patiently to be paid.
Well, that hadn’t been working either.
It had already been night, by the time he leaned back on the chair he had been sitting on for at least the past six hours along with Jimin searching every newspaper or site his mind could come through for a decent job.
Completely hopeless.
“I told you Hyung, you just have to get a housemate, that way everything you pay would be half of the amount you’re paying now, give your wallet a break.”
“No, I’d rather live on the streets then let a total stranger in my household, seriously, we’ve been through this before, you know I can’t.”
“That’s the only thing I can think of at the moment,” Jimin looked down, already feeling sad for his helpless friend.
It wasn’t that long when Yoongi took his leave, despite all the begging that Jimin threw at him to stay for dinner, he preferred to go home; rest a bit if he could, and clear his mind for a while.
Well, he couldn’t.
Not only because of the unforgiving cold dominating his little place, especially with the lack of warmness from his heater, that he had tactfully skipped for the sake of “saving”.
His mind was full of thoughts that apparently he didn’t have any plan to leave anytime soon, and honestly, he didn’t really care about getting them out either, he was so tired of struggling with whatever he called life, and his college was also getting out of hand.
His hazy gaze fell upon the large piano placed in a dusty and lonely corner, a harsh remembrance of a past, of a dream that he cruelly killed and buried many years ago, far from his now twenty-three self.
He had been different, really brave and gallant, so ready to make all his dreams come true, so ready to smile up proudly to all the people who believed that he couldn’t make it - ready to lift his head victoriously as he stood on the stage, playing the piano, playing his dreams in the form of Little Sounds.
But he betrayed them all, his dreams, himself.
It still hurt from time to time, whenever his mind played dirty and ran off to far places, to the old memories he had once tactfully pushed aside.
Whenever he was getting ready to attend his morning classes, checking himself in the mirror, whenever his eyes caught a glimpse of his lonely piano in his living room that looked so unfitting in the extreme confinement.
The dreams came back, the questions, the conflicts.
Saying all the things that Yoongi had put good afford to stay away from.
What if you kept me as yours? As Your dream?
Yoongi repeated a faint “I couldn’t” to his piano before his lids fell down.
Waking up to Jimin’s screaming voice was not how he planned to start his day, but things aren’t always the way you’ve planned them to be.
Nothing actually was the way Yoongi had planned it to be but — never mind.
“You’ve gotta wake up hyung.”
“Why the fuck — oh my god. GET OFF ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Yoongi shoved the younger back, as he got his aching body into a sitting position. The sharp rays of sunshine hit his face cruelly, as they found their way in through the open curtains.
Jimin.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Do NOT open the fucking curtains,” Yoongi growled sleepily as he rubbed his eyes.
“Let it go now hyung, I have good news,” Jimin nearly screamed into his sensitive ears and Yoongi had to fight the urge to not shove the boy down from the sofa.
“Spit it.”
“First of all, tell me how do you feel?”
“That, I shouldn’t have given my spare keys to you?”
“You’re mean hyung.”
“What if I was having sex? Could you keep living up after seeing my dick? You would eventually leave Hoseok.”
“Now you’re just being gross, and uh- I've seen your dick already” Jimin hit his arm playfully and Yoongi tried to pretend like it didn’t hurt.
“You've gotta know—“
“GUYS!” another loud voice joined the once perfect silence of the small house that was now shattered and pretty much forgotten.
“Have you left the door opened again Jimin?” Yoongi asked coldly before getting up from the couch, rolling his eyes towards Jimin’s pouting lips.
“Oh. Hi man, how’s everything?” Hoseok’s sunshine voice sounded too loud and bubbly to his drained body as he was pulled into a hug.
“What are you up to?”
“Bathroom”
"Oh"
Yoongi made his way towards the little bathroom he liked to spend his Saturday mornings in, before heading out to his damned workplace which consisted of wasting his precious time giving out fake smiles and talking to strangers.
“They want a pianist.”
Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat as the words left Hoseok’s mouth.
“So?” he let out, just to say something since the silence that was engulfing the three was taking a long time to leave.
“What do you mean so? You've gotta take the job, it pays awesome, plus isn’t it what you’ve always loved to do?” Jimin’s voice sounded so much like the little sounds in his head that, some nights trapped him in so many Questions and “If's”.
“It __ It's been a long time, I don’t like to play anymore — I’m not even sure if I remember anything.”
“I believe you do,” Hoseok spoke up. “I’ve already told Mrs. Jeon about you, and she said you’ll attend a short test and then straight to work.”
“Why would they need a pianist anyway? Is it some teaching job? Cause you know—"
“No,” Hoseok cut in. “I’m not sure why they need a pianist, but I’m sure it’s something about her parties and all. Just meet her once, she will explain it all to you.”
“Are you sure it’s not some kind of, I don’t know, joke? I mean people look for teachers and gardeners, not pianists,” Yoongi reasoned, so desperately looking for something to brush the whole thing off.
“No, no, LOOK,” Hoseok nearly shouted as he quickly searched his bag, looking for something desperately.
“Look,” he handed a stack of papers to a perplexed Yoongi.
He accepted the papers hesitantly.
“She wanted to have these papers spread amongst the music department,” he explained as Yoongi was busy examining the ad.
It was nothing special, just a simple ad requirement looking for a pianist.
Well, maybe except for the silly looking picture of a piano at the bottom.
“I’m not suita—“
“Hyung,” Jimin cut off sharply. “You need money and you’ve been searching for a job for weeks. Why can’t you just accept this brilliant chance? You can’t be picky.”
“Jimin’s right,” Hoseok nodded his head, “believe me, the job pays really well. Nothing that a pro pianist like you can’t do, plus, the Jeon family is nice and friendly, a bit weird, but all these years that I’ve been working there, I’ve seen nothing but pure kindness.”
“You’ve been working there for only two years hyung,” Jimin deadpanned with a risen brow.
“You little shit,” Hoseok pulled a laughing Jimin in his arm.
Yoongi’s mind blocked all the sounds that were echoing through the house, as his eyes pierced through the paper that had now turned quite crumbled due to his sweaty hands, squeezing it so hard.
He eyed his lonely piano warily.
What if you had kept me as your dream?
“Ok, let’s do this.”
The man was tall and looked scary, not that Yoongi was short; not at all, but this man was way too tall.
Yoongi shifted his attention from the guard to the large mansion that was set lordly beyond the sidewalk.
He tried not to gape at the cream coating of the paint, shining beautifully as the sun gleamed down onto it. He squirmed uncomfortably as they got closer to the main entrance.
“I told you they’re rich,” Hoseok mumbled in his ear as they entered the wide hall, decorated beautifully with exquisite looking pictures.
“Rich? Rich my ass, are they some __ royal family or something?”
Hoseok didn’t get to answer as the door of the hall, opened and entered a tall lady. Yoongi’s eyes slightly widened as the beautiful lady made her way towards them.
“Hello there Hobbie.”
Wait, Hobbie?
“Hello, Mrs. Jeon,” Hoseok bowed deeply, shaking Yoongi’s sleeve slightly as the older was still gawking at the beautiful lady.
Yoongi gulped down _ he had failed hard in trying to conceal his admiration, he quickly bowed down, a fine ninety degree.
“I apologize for my discourtesy Mrs. Jeon,” he looked up warily, only to be met with the woman’s pretty smile.
“It’s okay, you must be Yoongi.”
Yoongi nodded nervously.
Hoseok had told about the family being friendly, but he didn’t expect them to be this nice, with all the wealth and money, creeping up and down the mansion's walls.
He was guided into another big hall.
The golden walls were designed prettily with faint little blossoms and the furniture was styled innovatively.
But, the most impressive part of the hall, was the large piano, placed right in the middle of the place, looking dusty and lonely, like it hadn't been used for years.
The piano still looked superb in its holy glory. Yoongi noticed a beautiful marble angel on the frame with a flower in its right hand, looking up at the sky and Yoongi could swear it was worth his whole existence.
He might have been too focused on the breathtaking instrument, but he still noticed the sad aura that suddenly surrounded Mrs. Jeon.
“I’m sorry Yoongi-ssi, I haven’t had this room cleaned, nobody's allowed here.”
The woman got closer to the piano in short steps, running a shaky hand on the dusty frame of it and Yoongi almost witnessed the oak wood of the frame, shaking.
“May I ask why?” He didn’t mean to ask that, the question wasn’t supposed to come out, but he couldn’t help it.
Everything looked a little too mysterious for a simple hall with a piano in middle.
“It just holds lots of memories for us.”
Yoongi nodded slightly, pretty convinced with the information. He was there to get paid, not to be nosey about the family’s secrets.
“Good. So, Yoongi-ssi, please tell me about yourself,” the woman smiled again, as she guided Yoongi towards a set of cushions that were probably too dusty to be used, but Yoongi pushed the thoughts away, trying to focus and not to make a fool out of himself _ again.
“Well, I-I’m twenty-three, currently a college student, um—that’s pretty much it,” Yoongi uttered, already feeling bored with his own introduction.
He hated it, but, yes, after so many unreached dreams and sleepless nights spent on thinking about them, all he was now, was just Min Yoongi, a college student.
Far from what he ever wanted, but still the closest to reality.
“Good. So, mind telling me how long you’ve been playing the piano?” Mrs. Jeon asked with a voice brushed with tender kindness, demanding, to be honest with, and yes, that was what Yoongi had planned it to be.
“To be Honest ma’am, it’s been more than six years since I have gotten close to the instrument,” Yoongi refused to name it out loud, it kind of _ kind of hurt.
“Oh,” was all that the woman said, but to Yoongi’s surprise, her face didn’t show any kind of annoyance or discontent.
“So, why not leave the rest of our conversation to your art?” the woman smiled as if Yoongi hadn’t just informed her about such a fact. she head pointed to the piano, with a loving smile still lingering on her face.
“I—sure.”
Yoongi got up, slow but sure. He headed towards the piano in short steps, watching his whole childhood and teenage years he had spent with the same wooden thing, playing over right before his eyes.
He needed to breathe.
The small table in front of the piano was a bit uncomfortable, probably due not being used for years. The feeling was forgotten sooner than later as his gaze landed upon the familiar stranger.
It felt like a dream smiled and Yoongi shivered.
“Hello, stranger.”
“Go on dear, play for me,” the soft voice of the woman spoke, still sitting behind him, he pushed his fingers closer towards the keys.
The fingers touched the keys briefly at first, but the second touch lingered more. Yoongi didn’t know whether his fingers were warm or the piano keys, but somewhere along the way, he felt a sweet warmness traveled down his spine.
“Relax dear, I’m sure you will do well—“
And Yoongi did it, he breathed deep and let it go.
Just a little dream coming alive, shivers and let go.
Breath—
It ended, considerably sooner than how it started, the moment he started playing, he knew that he had to kneel down in front of the rushed emotions, coming back to engulf his whole existence once again.
The point was, nothing mattered as long as the pretty little notes were being performed by his skilled fingers that had come back to life as if they were numb before.
He turned back to the table to take a look at the woman.
She looked amazed and surprised, admiration and a kind of praise that Yoongi hadn’t seen directed toward himself, in such a long time were all written perfectly on her beautiful face.
“I’m totally impressed, you are definitely suitable for what I have in mind Yoongi-ssi."
Yoongi let out the breath, the breath he wasn’t aware that he was keeping in.
“Thank you, ma’am, I’m glad.”
Little did he knew that the story was just about to start, going on and on, until he was breathless again.
On the first step, with his little sounds.
“Ma'am!” a sharp scream broke the peaceful silence of the room, as a maid rushed in hurriedly, face pale and extremely worried.
“Young master is gone again.”