He’s pushed out of the car with his duffel bag.
His father is giving him a dirty look. His mother refuses to look at him at all.
And that’s that.
No ‘goodbye,’ ‘eat well,’ ‘we still love you despite the fact you’ve messed up your life!’ Just a ‘tell aunt Eun-ju to call us,’ and then they drive away.
His parents drive away, leaving him all alone in a town he hasn’t been to since his aunt turned 50, 7 years ago.
He’s all alone, staring at the garden path in front of him. It’s dark outside, flies gathering around the lamppost next to the house. Yoongi wraps his arms around his body as he carefully opens the garden gate. It squeaks and the sound is deafening in the silence of the night.
He slowly walks up the path, taking a deep breath.
He knows his aunt used to pamper and love him as a kid, and he’s sorry for not visiting all of these years. He’s sorry that this is how she has to see him again. With his eyes red from crying and begging his parents to please give him one more chance, please he won’t mess up this time!
But they were done. Yoongi had to figure his life out and they were done with him bringing shame to the family and ‘being unthankful.’
Yoongi wasn’t unthankful, he was very thankful that his mother still put a plate on the table for him and cleaned his sheets every now and then. He just didn’t know how to show it until it was too late.
He brings his fist up to the door, closing his eyes as he knocks. It’s so silent in the street it almost scares him to do so. It’s never like that in the city, even at 2 in the morning. He wonders how he will get used to this. He has never felt like as much as of a failure as he does at this very moment, the hollow sound of his fist hitting the wood making him cringe.
His breath hitches in his throat when a light is turned on in the window above him.
He really hopes she’ll let him in. Yoongi doesn’t believe in a God, but if there’s one he’s praying to him right now, because please, please don’t let his aunt be mad at him as well. He can’t take more yelling right now. He knows, he knows he fucked up. He knows there’s absolutely no one to blame except for his own stubborn self. He knows he made all the wrong decisions and did all the stupid things. He knows.
He can hear her walking down the stairs; knows it’s only a matter of seconds now.
Yoongi straightens his back and tries to smile. He squeezes the handles of his duffel bag until his knuckles have turned white, trying to stop his hands from shaking.
The door is opened, and there she is, blinking at Yoongi. Her hair has gotten a little grayer, the wrinkles on her forehead a little more defined, but she still looks just as kind as Yoongi remembers and he really wants to hide in her embrace because he is so incredibly embarrassed.
She doesn’t move to hug him, though.
‘Yoongi? is that you? What are you doing here?’ It isn’t until she meets Yoongi’s tearstained cheeks that she notices. ‘Child, have you been crying?’
She does move to wrap her arms around him then, and Yoongi can only muffle his sobs in her shoulder.
‘Please let me stay, I’ve been really stupid and now mom and dad don’t want me anymore and it’s all-’
‘Let’s go inside, Yoongi-yah, the neighbors don’t need to hear.’ She pulls back, looks down the dark street quickly and then steps inside, motioning for Yoongi to follow her.
She carefully closes the front door behind him.