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All For You (It Starts With A Goodbye)

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It was strange seeing Taehyung again.

They had never been close, only acquaintances by default thanks to mutual friends, but Taehyung had been one of the first people he'd lost contact with after leaving high school.

He remembered him, of course, since Namjoon and Hoseok still hung out with him every once in a while, but he didn't think of the younger very often, to put it simply.

There had been no bitterness when they'd drifted apart, it was simply a decrease in the amount of messages sent, followed by a distance which eventually grew large enough to signify the end of something. The something, in this circumstance, being the distant friendship that the two had shared.

And yet there Taehyung was, standing awkwardly before him with a shy smile, his head cocked to the side.

"This is Taehyung," Hoseok was saying. "Just in case you forgot."

Yoongi politely shook the taller man's hand with a smile fixed to his face.

"It's nice to see you again, Hyung." Taehyung beamed. "It's been so long."

"Likewise." Yoongi replied, pulling his hand away before he could marvel at how nicely Taehyung's own one covered his.

His voice had changed, it was deeper now.

He wondered what else was different.

"Well, I'd better start getting ready. I'll see you guys after the recital, right?"

"Yup!" Hoseok beamed. "Taehyungie and I are going to be cheering for you."

Yoongi rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Hoseok wouldn't dare raising his voice above an indoor-voice volume at one of his piano recitals.

"Best of luck, Hyung." Taehyung said gently, a lingering gaze branding his skin like a hot iron as he left the dressing room.

Yoongi felt his senses tingle at the look he'd received and he turned away, reaching for his blazer before facing his mirror to fix a tiny amount of makeup to the corners of his eyes.

He didn't exactly ooze confidence when it came to his appearance, but he was somewhat satisfied with the outcome as he gave himself a final once over in the glass. His hair had recently been redyed to it's natural black colour, and he was pleased with how serious and professional it made him look. He wondered what Taehyung thought of it.

I like it when you dye your hair, Hyung. Green was so cool. Won't you dye it green again? For me?

He smiled at the thought but suddenly reminded himself that he had to focus. He wiggled his fingers in the air to get his blood flowing properly and took a few deep breaths to still the pre-performance nerves that somehow weedled their way into his system, even after all this time.

I love how you look when you play the piano, Hyung.

Yoongi clenched and unclnched his fists in an effort to relieve as much of the tension as was possible from his fingers.

It's like you're in your own world. It's beautiful.

"Min, you're on in five."

Yoongi nodded to the backstage staff and made his way towards the wing that led to stage right. The woman who was on before him had been invited from Japan, he was told and the piece she was playing on the grand piano was truly stunning. A boroque piece whose name he couldn't quite pin, but he recognised it nonetheless.

As she ended on a soft, minor chord, the audience politely brought their hands together in gentle applause and she stood, bowing to them before leaving the stage with a small smile in Yoongi's direction.

"Yes, that was Albinoni's Concerto in G Minor, performed by none other than the wonderful Hiyono Noe, ladies and gentlemen." The organiser spoke, stepping onstage.

His words prompted another delicate bout of applause which died down after a few short seconds.

"And now, for a performance that has been long awaited. Korea's very own Min Yoongi, performing an original piece for the first time for you ladies and gentlemen."

On cue, Yoongi began walking towards the piano, smiling carefully at the gathering of people before him.

It's like you feel every note inside yourself.

"The piece, entitled 'Moon's Serenade' is a piece only recently completed, and you are the very first audience to hear it performed in full." The presenter continued, and applause broke out once more amongst the audience members.

Yoongi sat himself on the stool and paused, waiting for the audience to fall silent and take in that one deep breath that the audience would always take, bracing itself for the first notes to ring out.

But sometimes, you just look so sad. Like the music is hurting you.

He hit a single key, and he felt a hush of expectation settle around the room.

Like you're using it as a way to explain yourself to the world.

He let the note disperse across the large hall before raising his second hand and beginning, ever so softly, to play his piece.

It means a lot to you, doesn't it, Hyung? The music. It's a part of yourself that you should never let go.

It was gentle at first, the notes rolling into each other lightly, without too much obvious meaning. Tentatively whispering into the audience's ears.

No matter what people tell you, pursue it. That's what you want, isn't it? You want to create music, right?

As the gentle flow reached its peak, he allowed himself to suddenly slip into a minor interlude, weaving through a sudden sadness in his piece that he hadn't fully noticed before. An apology.

Don't let it go. I can see how much you love it.

The music stilled for a monent and the audience seemed to hesitate, as if wondering "is that it?", but he picked it up again, an altered continuation to where he'd been before the minor notes had take over. Acceptance scrawled all over the manuscript he hadn't bothered bringing with him because he knew the tune inside out by now.

One day, will you write me a piece?

His hands knew the way, climbing an octave to be both clearer and more gentle, the question in the notes clear to him, but not to the audience as his music asked, softly: "One day will you forgive me?"

Hyung, it was your music that made me fall in love with you, but you are so much more than that.

And like every piece of his, as he neared the end, Yoongi hesitated. A tiny, barely noticeable shudder in the rhythm of his soul as he wondered for a moment wether the message was too obvious.

A bitterly cold I love you too whispered through the soft, minor notes that faded out into a hushed silence. He knew he'd been playing for nearly five minutes, but it felt like shorter. And longer. He couldn't condense all his thoughts into such a short composition, but at the same time he didn't want to ramble.

After a safe amount of silence, the crowd began clapping. It was no different to the last round of applause. They didn't understand the meaning of his piece, but that was okay because there was only one person's opinion that mattered.

He thought back to how he'd left the school's music room after the younger boy's confession, running from the risk that he would admit that he liked him back.

The guilt of seeing Taehyung's hurt expression in the corridors thereafter, followed by the awkwardness of pretending that nothing had happened. And then came the agony.

Seeing the younger with another person's lips on his own, smiling laughing.

Graduation was an answer to his unspoken prayers as he ran from the knowledge that those wounds would never truly heal.

One day, will you write me a piece?

He thought of those words with the smallest of laughs as he stood, bowing deeply to the audience, his eyes scanning for a very specific pair to look at.

And he found them, staring at him from under a slightly overgrown fringe, Taehyung was looking at him, his gaze careful.

As Yoongi walked off stage, he smiled at the man who was about to come on who looked at him with admiration.

"That was beautiful," the man whispered and Yoongi thanked him before wishing him luck.

It took less than ten minutes before he heard a knock on his changing room door.

"Come in!" He called, not moving from where he was lying, his tie loosened and his shirt opened by a few buttons.

"Hyung, that was amazing!" Came Hoseok's voice. "I'd only heard parts of it before, but it sounded brilliant all put together like that!"

Yoongi smiled gratefully and raised his gaze to look at Taehyung.

"What did you think?" He asked, before he could stop himself.

Taehyung sank down onto the ground below Yoongi to look at him at eye level.

"The ending." He said simply. "Sounded too sad, and too much like an end."

Hoseok stared at him before looking apologetically in Yoongi's direction.

"Hoseok," Yoongi murmured. "There's a vending machine on the first floor, would you mind grabbing us some drinks? I left some coins on the desk."

Getting the hint immediately, Hoseok bustled out of the room.

"Tell me more." Yoongi urged once their friend had left.

"That piece was... It was about love, wasn't it?" Taehyung asked cautiously.


"Love, rejection and then an apology of sorts. Perhaps acceptance." He continued. "But it seemed personal too. The ending didn't ring right with me, Hyung."


"Because you assumed that the moment in which you finished the piece was the end." Taehyung whispered, close enough for Yoongi to notice his tiny moles that he had never forgotten but thoroughly missed in the years they'd spent apart.

"Keep going."

"Whoever it is that you wrote that piece for... Maybe it wasn't truly the end for you." The younger finished, lowering his eyes. "There is still room for a happy ending."

Yoongi's breath caught in his throat at Taehyung's words.

"One day, will you write me a piece?" Taehyung asked suddenly.

Before he could stop himself, Yoongi felt a laugh escape his lips. Taehyung blushed and shuffled a little further away from him, but not fast enough.

Reaching out to place a hand on the back of Taehyung's neck, Yoongi pulled him forwards.

"Taehyung," he breathed, bringing Taehyung close enough for their noses to almost be bumping off each other.

"Every piece I have ever written..."

He didn't finish his sentence as he shut his eyes and rested his head on the other's shoulder, draping his arms across the plane of his back as the taller man moved to sit beside him on the couch, their legs overlapping.

"All the pieces I've ever written..." Yoongi stated, pulling away slightly from the hug to place a chaste kiss to his cheek. " They were all for you."