The Pianist || MYG || ✔

1

It was dark outside, and the room was lit only by a lamp in the corner of the room. The curtains were open, and there was rain running down the glass, drowning out the sound of the gentle violin coming from the speaker next to the window.

Yoongi sighed and placed his glass of whiskey back on the coffee table. His apartment was small, and he liked it like that, even if it meant that in the living room, he could barely stretch his legs. He leaned back into the small sofa and lifted his phone, scrolling up the screen. His money would start to run out in a few months. He would have had enough to last him forever, if he didn't spend so much on alcohol. And cigarettes.

He tapped the ashes out on the full ashtray, and took another deep drag on what his wife called, "Death lollies". He smiled fondly at her memory. She was childish in a lot of aspects, and that had just made him love her even more. If she could see him now, she would have burst into tears, and snatched the cigarette. Probably thrown it into the sink and drowned it in water from the tap, but she wasn't here.

Yoongi was alone.

And running out of money. He sighed again and reached for the mostly empty glass in front of him. He downed the rest of the amber liquid, before pouring himself another glass and downing that, too.

Getting to his feet, Yoongi stretched, enjoying the feeling of the alcohol numbing his senses. It was time that he started looking into getting a job.

But just the thought of leaving his house to go to work made him feel sick to his stomach. Deciding to think about it in the morning, Yoongi headed for his bedroom, going past the locked door of the master bedroom and heading to the smaller one. He couldn't bare to get rid of the contents of that room, but he couldn't look at them, either.

With a groan, he sank onto his bed, on top of the covers and closed his eyes. Sleep wouldn't come easily, he knew that, but he always tried, anyway. An hour later, and the alcohol had worn off but Yoongi still couldn't sleep.

He got back to his feet and stumbled back to the living room. He didn't know why he thought tonight would be any different. He hadn't slept in the bed since she had left him. He dropped onto the sofa, and like he did every night, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey from where he left it on the table, and began his task of emptying it, until he drank himself unconscious.

---

"You know, I'm kind of getting sick of this, Yoongz," 

Yoongi groaned when he felt something hitting his foot, and opened his sticky eyes.

"Hoseok," Yoongis voice was barely more than a croak, and Hoseok kicked his foot again.

"Get up," He sighed, "Come on," He took Yoongis hand and pulled, and the older man allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. As soon as he was upright, his head began to pound, and without thinking, he reached for the bottle again.

"No, I don't think so," Hoseok said, kicking it out of the way, spilling the remainder on the carpet, "Go for a shower, you stink of whiskey. It's horrible. I'll clean up your mess,"

Yoongi did as he was told, stumbling to the bathroom and shedding himself of his clothes. He turned the shower on and stepped underneath the hot water, closing his eyes and hoping that the water would wash away his pain. And his headache.

As usual, it only washed away the stench of whiskey, so he climbed out and dried himself off, before brushing his teeth and going to the bedroom to put some clothes on.

"Jesus, Yoongz, you should pay me for this," Hoseok grumbled, bringing the clothes that Yoongi left in the bathroom and dumping them on top of the over flowing laundry basket, "I seem to spend my whole time just cleaning up after you,"

Yoongi grunted and pulled a shirt on over his head, his wet hair dripping down his face.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, "You didn't even dry your hair, Yoongi,"

Shrugging, Yoongi pulled on his jeans, and Hoseok sighed, picking up the towel from the floor and putting it over Yoongis wet hair. He scrubbed at it until it was dry, before taking the towel to the bathroom to hang over the radiator.

"Get your shoes on," He said, "We need to go and get you a coffee. All you have in the house is whiskey. Isabella would be so-"

"Shut up, Hoseok," Yoongi snapped, "Don't go there,"

"Then sort yourself out," Hoseok snapped back, "You can't keep living like this!"

"I've heard this a million times," Yoongi sighed, "Just drop it,"

"Instead, you could listen to me," Hoseok said, tossing him his leather jacket.

Yoongi caught it and pulled it on, before leaning down and doing up his black converse. He grabbed his keys and followed his friend from the small apartment.

Their morning routine was always the same; Hoseok waking Yoongi up and forcing him to have a shower, before dragging him to some hipster filled cafe and forcing caffeine down his throat. And after that, he knew that he'd get some kind of lecture about his life choices, but he was usually numb to that. He'd heard it so many times.

However, this morning, he surprised Hoseok once they had sat down in the cafe.

"Hobi," He said, his eyes fixated on his hot black coffee, "I need to find a job,"