Symphony of Time

1

Yoongi's head was spinning from the impact. He could hear the sirens approaching, but the noise was barely audible over the pounding in his ears. Everything felt dizzy. The pain in his left shoulder was unbearable, he felt himself panicking. However, he tried to stand up, but he immediately collapsed back down to the ground. The taste of blood mixing with saltiness and bitterness on the warm, sticky pavement was metallic and bitter. His entire body trembled as he struggled to remain conscious. He was scared.

He woke up covered in sweat and a shiver ran down his spine, a nightmare again. Night terrors were common among those who suffer posttraumatic stress; Yoongi was the living proof. As his eyes adapted to the darkness of the night Yoongi tried to sit down on bed for a moment, after a quick peep at the digital clock he realised his night rest was ruined again. It was 4 am, without pills he would not sleep, yet he couldn't take more, otherwise he would not wake up on time to go to work.

Recently, he had been looking for some stuff to do related to music, as his psychologist Mrs Kang had recommended him so as not avoiding his life anymore. In the past few months he had been attending some rehabilitation sessions in order to regain mobility in his left shoulder, the process was slow albeit painful. But his doctor along with his friend Miho insisted. Miho did not hesitate in talking to the director of the play to grant his cherished friend a place in the production. Yoongi did not know what to feel because all the pills he was on were making a human robot, but in exchange they guaranteed him he would not collapse in the middle of the street because of an overstimulation of his senses caused by a loud noise or simply somebody touching him.

As a part of his routine he headed to the kitchen to prepare himself some breakfast. Slowly, he prepared himself a solo coffee. The bitter yet warm feeling invaded his mouth. It was a routinary awakening. His day could not start without one.

Late that morning he started his way to the theatre. The traffic was loud, more than usual, luckily the medication took him under control, granting him some mental peace.

His path to his destination ended without further trouble. Sooner than after he found himself waiting in front of a classy building, not too old, not too new.

The walls were decorated with posters of some of the most famous representations and movies, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, The ghost in the opera...

Yoongi kept a moment to stare at them, at the end of the wall, almost hidden to everyone there was a poster announcing one piano concert, the picture was starring a Pale male, with long onyx black hair. It was him. Before the disgrace happened. After that his life has never been the same. He tried to play piano again, but he lacked the emotion, it was like his sparkle had disappeared.

Where did it go?

He couldn't find an answer, maybe that was the main reason why he was struggling so much with his daily life. He had lost his passion.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts:

-Yoongi!- said Mino walking down the aisle to greet his friend.- You have come.- added with joy.

-Yes- responded the ex pianist. - You called me.

-Oh, come on, Yoon, don't be like that. We all know that you need to leave your house. I know that you're in a spiral of decadence. First you decided to walk away from everything you love, and then you've slowly isolated yourself until you've been completely alone. You look like an empty set. You can't keep doing this to yourself anymore- Mino said bluntly to his friend. Then he continued- You cannot continue like this.

Mino was being direct and candid in his message to Yoon. He told him about his concern about his isolation and lack of communication with his loved ones. Mino felt Yoon had gone into a stair of depression, isolating himself from those who cared about him and distancing himself from his passions.

Mino expressed that he was worried about his continued path and felt that he needed to change his direction. Mino's message conveyed genuine care and concern for Yoon's mental and emotional health.

Despite trying to put on a brave face, it was clearly apparent that he was not doing well emotionally and mentally.

Mino was pretty aware of it.

Once he realised that his friend was with a blank expression staring at the wall, Mino kept track of his gaze until he found the reason why his friend was so absorbed.

He sighed loudly. He could read just by looking at Yoon the wave of melancholy he was on. In a useless try to distract him he said:

-Let's go inside, I'll show you the team.

Quietly, Yoongi nodded and followed Mino inside of the building. As they walked in he could feel the dusty atmosphere inside the corridors, a typical sign of a backstage of an old theatre.

The company Mino was working on was not having the success it was expected to have. Some of its plays did not make as much as planned. These issues were pretty noticeable in the lower part of the echelons. The budget had been reduced significantly.

As they entered the practice room, they could hear the music that was being played in some speakers. As organised as an army the dancers executed their ballet routine flawlessly.

They were practising a piece of swan lake. Tchaikovsky's soft melody embraced their ears like a lullaby.

When suddenly, the harmony was interrupted by a loud stumble noise.

One dancer had fallen down.

Whilst Mino quickly went to check up on his student, his friend followed him closely. The dancer was sitting on the floor holding his ankle; an expression of grief filled his face.

-Alright, we're taking a ten-minute break. Jiyoon, you are coming with me.- With what he said, the dancers walked out of the hall. Being helped by his other student Mino placed the young dancer, who had fallen to the ground, onto the chair he brought.

With concern Mino announced- I'll go to get the first aid kit. Stay here, make sure he's fine please.- He said to Yoongi and went towards the locker room.

Now that there were only two people left in the vast hall, Yoongi glanced at the boy standing next to him from the corner of his eye. He looked like a Greek god with his white shirt and blond hair, he had his face hidden towards himself, Yoongi laughed.

- Do you even call yourself a dancer?- He said mockingly.

The young man turned towards the man who had spoken to him this way. His eyes gleaming as if they contained galaxies, he replied,

- Are you telling me this, forgotten pianist? - He asked the pianist with disdain.