My own BTS part 4
2638 Words
Chapter Four
The Voice in the Night
The night Seo-yeon ran away, she didn't know she was running toward something.
She only knew she was running away from everything.
From the small room that suddenly felt too small.
From the words her mother had spoken.
From the bills scattered across the table.
From the fear she had been carrying for years.
And most of all...
from the feeling that perhaps her dreams were nothing more than childish fantasies.
The streets were wet beneath her shoes.
Rain had fallen earlier, leaving the pavement shining beneath the streetlights.
Seo-yeon walked quickly.
Then faster.
Then she began to run.
She didn't care where she was going.
She didn't care that her shoes were becoming soaked.
She didn't care that her hair was sticking to her face.
She just wanted to get far enough away that nobody could hear her crying.
“Seo-yeon!”
Her mother's voice still echoed in her head.
Stop dreaming.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I know,” she whispered.
“I know.”
But she didn't know.
She didn't know how to stop dreaming.
That was the problem.
Dreaming was the only thing that had ever made her believe that her life could become something different.
Earlier that evening, everything had seemed normal.
Her mother had returned from the stall later than usual.
She looked tired.
Not ordinary tired.
The kind of tired that made her shoulders look heavier.
Seo-yeon had watched her place a small envelope on the table.
“What is that?”
“Nothing.”
“Mom.”
Her mother sighed.
“It's another notice.”
Seo-yeon picked it up.
She read the first few lines.
Her stomach dropped.
“Again?”
Her mother sat down.
“I'll handle it.”
“You said that last time.”
“I know.”
“And the time before that.”
“I know.”
Seo-yeon looked at her.
“How are you going to handle it?”
Her mother didn't answer.
That silence frightened Seo-yeon more than any words could have.
“Mom?”
“I'll find a way.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“How?”
“I said I'll find a way.”
Seo-yeon stared at her.
Then something inside her broke.
“Why don't you ever tell me the truth?”
Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
“I am telling you the truth.”
“No, you're protecting me.”
“Because you're my daughter.”
“I'm not a baby!”
“I know.”
“Then let me help!”
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because there is nothing you can do.”
Seo-yeon froze.
Her mother looked away.
The room became silent.
Then Seo-yeon whispered:
“I could sing.”
Her mother looked at her.
“What?”
“I could try.”
“Try what?”
“To become a singer.”
Her mother's expression changed.
Not because she didn't love Seo-yeon's dream.
Because she was afraid of it.
“Seo-yeon...”
“I know I'm not rich.”
“I know.”
“I know I don't have connections.”
“I know.”
“But I can sing.”
Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
“Dreams don't always feed you.”
Seo-yeon's voice trembled.
“But maybe this one can.”
Her mother looked down.
“Please don't make your life harder than it already is.”
Seo-yeon stared at her.
“What if singing is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm alive?”
Her mother didn't answer.
And then, exhausted and frightened, she said the words she would wish she could take back.
“Then maybe you need to grow up.”
Seo-yeon's eyes filled.
Her mother continued.
“Maybe you need to stop dreaming about things that aren't meant for people like us.”
Silence.
Seo-yeon felt as if someone had slapped her.
People like us.
She didn't know which part hurt more.
The words...
or the possibility that her mother believed them.
She stood.
“Okay.”
Her mother looked up.
“Seo-yeon—”
“Okay.”
She grabbed her jacket.
“Where are you going?”
“I don't know.”
“It's late.”
“I know.”
“Don't go.”
Seo-yeon stopped at the door.
For one second, she almost turned around.
Then she whispered:
“I just need to breathe.”
And she left.
Now, hours later, Seo-yeon sat behind an old building on the edge of the city.
It was quiet there.
Almost too quiet.
There were no customers.
No classmates.
No people laughing at her.
No one asking why she smelled like food.
No one asking why her shoes were old.
No one asking why she looked tired.
Nobody knew her.
And somehow...
that felt comforting.
She pulled her knees toward her chest.
Her notebook rested beside her.
She looked at it.
The cover was wet.
She wiped it with her sleeve.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered.
She didn't know who she was apologizing to.
Her mother?
Herself?
Her dreams?
Maybe all three.
She opened the notebook.
The pages were filled with her handwriting.
Songs.
Ideas.
Little pieces of a life she had imagined.
She turned to the page where she had written:
One day, I'll give Mama a better life.
Her vision blurred.
A tear landed on the paper.
She quickly wiped it away.
Then another tear came.
And another.
Soon, she wasn't even trying to stop them.
She cried until her chest hurt.
Until her throat burned.
Until she had nothing left to say.
Then she looked toward the dark sky.
“Why?”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Why does everything have to be so difficult?”
No answer.
Only the distant sound of traffic.
Seo-yeon closed her eyes.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
And began to sing.
Her voice was quiet at first.
Almost fragile.
A single note escaped her lips.
Then another.
She didn't sing a famous song.
She didn't sing for an audience.
She sang something she had written herself.
A song about a girl who had spent her entire life standing outside a door she was afraid to open.
A girl who wanted to be brave.
A girl who wanted to leave her sadness behind.
A girl who loved her mother so much that sometimes that love felt like a weight on her chest.
Her voice trembled.
Then strengthened.
She sang about hunger.
About loneliness.
About being told to lower her dreams.
About pretending not to care when people laughed.
About looking at other people's lives and wondering why hers had to be so difficult.
Then her voice cracked.
She stopped.
Covered her mouth.
Tried not to cry.
But the tears came again.
She looked down.
“I can't do this.”
She whispered.
Then she sang again.
This time louder.
Not because she wasn't hurting.
Because she was.
And she wanted the world to know what that pain sounded like.
At the same time, seven young men were laughing inside a car.
The evening had been unusually long.
They had finished their work earlier than expected and had decided to go out together.
For once, they didn't want to talk about schedules.
They didn't want to talk about business.
They didn't want to talk about interviews.
They wanted to be young.
They wanted to laugh.
So they had gone out.
Music.
Food.
Dancing.
A little time away from cameras.
A little time where they could simply be themselves.
Seokjin leaned back in his seat.
“I can't believe you made me dance.”
Hoseok laughed.
“You enjoyed it.”
“I did not.”
“You were dancing.”
“I was moving.”
“That's dancing.”
“No.”
Taehyung laughed.
“You looked happy.”
Seokjin pointed at him.
“Don't start.”
Everyone laughed.
Jimin looked out the window.
The city lights passed across his face.
For a moment, everything felt peaceful.
Namjoon looked around at them.
Seven friends.
Years of friendship.
Years of struggle.
Years of success.
He smiled.
They had come a long way.
But Yoongi was unusually quiet.
Jungkook noticed.
“You okay?”
Yoongi nodded.
“Just tired.”
Jungkook looked out the window.
He was tired too.
But there was something about the night that felt strange.
He couldn't explain it.
Maybe it was the rain.
Maybe it was the silence between songs.
Maybe it was the feeling that something was waiting.
The car slowed as they approached a quieter part of the city.
Then Jimin lifted his head.
“Wait.”
The others looked at him.
“What?”
“Do you hear that?”
Hoseok frowned.
“Hear what?”
Jimin listened.
“There.”
The car became quiet.
At first, nothing.
Then...
a voice.
Soft.
Beautiful.
Floating through the night.
Everyone stopped talking.
Namjoon looked toward the window.
“Where is that coming from?”
The driver slowed down.
The voice grew clearer.
It was sad.
Not the kind of sadness people pretended to feel in songs.
Real sadness.
The kind that came from somewhere deep.
Yoongi listened carefully.
“She wrote that?”
Namjoon looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“The melody.”
He listened again.
“It's not polished.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning she's not trying to impress anyone.”
The car stopped.
Nobody spoke.
They listened.
The voice rose.
Then cracked.
And something about that cracked note made Jungkook's heart suddenly tighten.
He knew it.
He had heard it before.
Years ago.
A girl.
A notebook.
A dark street.
A voice that had disappeared before he could find its owner.
Jungkook slowly opened the car door.
“Jungkook?”
He didn't answer.
He stepped outside.
The others followed.
“Where are you going?”
He pointed toward the sound.
“There.”
They walked.
The voice became clearer with every step.
Then they saw her.
A young woman sitting alone beneath a weak streetlight.
Her hair was messy.
Her clothes were simple.
Her notebook lay beside her.
She didn't look famous.
She didn't look important.
She looked...
broken.
But when she sang, everything changed.
The seven boys stood silently.
They didn't want to interrupt her.
They didn't want to scare her.
They simply listened.
Jimin's eyes filled with tears.
“She sounds like she's crying.”
Namjoon nodded.
“She is.”
Seokjin looked at the others.
“Should we leave?”
Nobody answered.
Because they were all thinking the same thing.
They couldn't.
Not yet.
Jungkook took another step.
His heart was beating harder.
He didn't know why.
He had heard thousands of voices.
Beautiful voices.
Powerful voices.
Professional voices.
But this one was different.
It didn't sound perfect.
It sounded honest.
And suddenly...
he remembered the notebook.
Maybe one day, someone will hear me.
His eyes widened.
“No.”
Jimin looked at him.
“What?”
“I know her.”
“What do you mean?”
Jungkook stared at the girl.
“I've heard her before.”
Yoongi looked at him.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
The others exchanged glances.
Jungkook continued.
“She ran away from us.”
Taehyung frowned.
“Wait.”
He remembered.
“The girl?”
Jungkook nodded.
“The girl with the voice.”
Everyone looked back at Seo-yeon.
She was still singing.
She had no idea who was standing behind her.
She had no idea that the seven boys from that night had found her again.
She had no idea that one of them had remembered her for years.
Seo-yeon finished the song.
Her voice faded into silence.
She lowered her head.
For a few seconds, she simply breathed.
Then she heard something.
A small sound behind her.
Footsteps.
She turned.
And froze.
Seven people.
Seven familiar faces.
Her heart stopped.
No.
It couldn't be.
Not again.
Her eyes widened.
She recognized them immediately.
The same boys.
The same faces.
The same people she had run away from years ago.
BTS.
She stood so quickly that her notebook fell.
Jungkook stepped forward.
“Wait.”
Seo-yeon backed away.
“Please.”
“Don't run.”
She stared at him.
“How do you know me?”
Jungkook stopped.
“I don't.”
“Then why are you following me?”
“We heard you singing.”
“I wasn't singing for anyone.”
“I know.”
“Then leave.”
Her voice shook.
Jungkook looked at her.
He didn't know what to say.
So he said the only thing that came to mind.
“You're really good.”
Seo-yeon's eyes filled with tears.
She looked away.
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
“You don't know me.”
“No.”
Jungkook's voice became softer.
“But I know what it sounds like when someone sings because they have something they need to say.”
Seo-yeon stared at him.
Nobody had ever said that to her.
She didn't know how to respond.
Jimin stepped forward.
“We're not here to hurt you.”
Seo-yeon looked at him.
“I know.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
She swallowed.
“Because people like you don't understand people like me.”
Silence.
The words hurt more than she intended.
Jungkook looked at her carefully.
“Maybe you're right.”
Seo-yeon looked surprised.
He continued.
“Maybe we don't.”
He pointed toward her notebook.
“But maybe we can listen.”
Seo-yeon's eyes moved to the notebook.
Then back to him.
Something inside her softened.
Just slightly.
Then her phone rang.
She looked down.
Mom.
Her heart sank.
She couldn't answer.
The phone rang again.
And again.
Jungkook noticed.
“You should answer.”
Seo-yeon shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
She whispered:
“Because I don't know how to go home.”
Jungkook didn't say anything.
Neither did the others.
For the first time, the girl who had spent her entire life trying to hide her pain stood in front of seven strangers...
and didn't run.
Eventually, the phone stopped ringing.
Seo-yeon wiped her tears.
“I should go.”
Jungkook nodded.
“Okay.”
She picked up her notebook.
Then stopped.
She looked at him.
“You really remember me?”
Jungkook smiled faintly.
“I remembered your voice.”
Seo-yeon's expression changed.
Not because she was happy.
Because she had spent years believing that nobody had heard her.
But someone had.
Someone remembered.
She looked down.
“Goodnight.”
She turned.
Then Jungkook said:
“Seo-yeon.”
She froze.
Her heart stopped.
Slowly, she turned around.
“How do you know my name?”
Jungkook looked at the notebook in her hands.
She hadn't realized it.
Her name was written on the first page.
She stared at him.
He smiled.
“It's right there.”
Seo-yeon looked down.
Then laughed through her tears.
It was the first real laugh she'd had that night.
And somehow, that tiny laugh made the seven boys smile too.
None of them knew what would happen next.
None of them knew how deeply their lives were about to become connected.
They only knew that on one ordinary night...
seven boys had heard one girl's voice.
And something about it had made them stop.
Sometimes, that's how life changes.
Not with a warning.
Not with an announcement.
Just with a voice in the night...
and seven people willing to listen.
But there was one thing they didn't know.
The next morning, Seo-yeon would receive a phone call that would change everything.
And this time...
running away would not be enough.
To be continued...
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