The Pianist || MYG || ✔

2

"There's always a spot for you in my concerts, Yoongi," Hoseok said, sipping his tea, "We can even play together, like we used to,"

"I won't play," Yoongi said, "I don't think I can even hold a tune any more,"

Hoseok sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "What about teaching? I'm sure you'd be a great teacher, if you didn't smoke and drink so much,"

Yoongi huffed and drank more of the scalding hot coffee. He knew that was a not so subtle dig at him, but he didn't have the energy to argue. To be honest, he barely had any energy to do anything anymore. Not since Isabella left him those two years ago. He wasn't sure how he was still alive. If Hoseok wasn't about to kick him up the ass every so often, he was almost certain he would have joined his wifes side already.

"Yoongz? How about teaching? Put an ad in a newspaper and start a piano school for beginners. You have that grand piano in your fla-"

"No," Yoongi said, cutting him off, "That piano is off limits to everyone. Even me. I won't touch it,"

Hoseok sighed, "I can let you use one of the music rooms at school, then," He said.

Yoongi once again shook his head, "I'm not teaching beginners," He said, "I don't have the patience,"

Isabella once asked to learn, and Yoongi had loved teaching her, despite the fact that they constantly got distracted. He loved how her face lit up every time she got something right, and how her little, slender fingers tried to reach across the keys like his, but couldn't quite stretch enough.

"Yoongi, come on," Hoseok said, "I'm trying to help you out,"

Yoongi got to his feet and reached into his pocket for his wallet. With a sigh he realised that he left it at home, and his friend shook his head.

"It's on me, Yoongz. Please sit, I want to help,"

Yoongi sighed and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, "No, thanks," He muttered, and headed out of the door into the rain. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the jacket and tapped one free, before sticking it in between his lips and lighting it. He took a deep drag and let out a small puff of smoke.

It was already eleven in the morning, but the sky was dark and the drops of water falling from the clouds were large and heavy. As he walked back to his small apartment, the rain seeped in through his converse, but he barely noticed. The rain just reflected his constant mood, and the water in his shoes was no different.

Once he reached his home, he shed his shoes and socks, and hung his jacket up by the front door. He knew that Hoseok would be mad when he came in and he had left his wet jacket on the floor.

He immediately headed into his living room and sat down on the sofa, pulling out his phone to go through his finances again. He was drunk when he looked over them the previous night, so there was a chance that he had missed something, or miscalculated. A few moments of staring at the white screen with the black numbers didn't make him feel better.

At this rate, he only had a few months of his normal spending habits, before his money would only be able to cover his bills.

That meant that he'd not be able to drink, smoke, or even eat anymore.

With a sigh, he leaned back into his sofa and lit another cigarette. Hoseok had clearly emptied his ashtray for him, which made things easier, and after a few drags, he tapped the ash out and ran his fingers through his hair.

There was no avoiding it. He'd have to find a job. But the only thing he was good at was music. Music came from the heart, though, and he no longer had the heart for it. He just simply couldn't play anymore.

He knew that with his history, just one concert could bring him enough money for another few months, but he pushed that thought from his mind. He just had no passion anymore. Isabella had taken his passion with her when she passed.

With a sigh, he went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey. It was lunch time, and he hadn't slept well, as usual, so his plan was to once again drink himself unconscious, and stay that was until Hoseok came back in the morning. Maybe this time, he wouldn't wake up.

---

Hoseok was worried about his friend. He had been worried since Isabella got sick, but Yoongi was just not healthy anymore. He was living on alcohol and cigarettes, and the only reason he ate was because he went in every weekend and prepared food for the week.

However, as his university students entered the lecture hall, he had a sudden, eye opening thought. There was one student, who was almost perfect.

She had the mind of a genius musician, she could play the piano, the violin like Hoseok, and a few other classical instruments. She had perfect tone, and could memorize a music score within a few hours. She played well within an orchestra, but she was missing two things. Two major, important things that were holding her back and preventing her from advancing her career and landing herself a spot in the competition that would name her the top pianist in the world.

Passion and discipline.

And Hoseok knew just the person who could teach her that.