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Yoongi sat down at his desk and picked up his guitar.  It was his new love.  Over quarantine, he’d taught himself to play it.  So that he had a portable instrument upon which to compose new songs. 

He still loved the piano.  But the guitar was more practical.  At least, it would be once the Bangtan Boys were jet-setting again.  He laughed.  That was a misnomer.  They weren’t jetsetters.  What they were was hard workers.  Diligent.  Traveling the world to entertain fans from all walks of life.  And nearly every nation on earth now. 

He sighed.  How he missed his precious ARMYs!  He had once put together personal gifts for three hundred of them.  Now he had millions to shower with his love.  So it was no longer practical to package a gift for each of them.  The only way he had of showing his appreciation for all of them was to write them a song.

Hence, he was working on some new ones.  But he also remembered the one that had reached them first in November.  Of 2020.  The impossible year that he and his boys had come safely through.  Yoongi had spent a short amount of that year composing Telepathy.  An instant hit with his fans.  And a love song for ARMY.  The thing was…these days his affection for his stalwart supporters flowed effortlessly from both his fingers and his heart.  Lyrics just came to him like honey dripping from its comb.

In truth, Yoongi had grown accustomed to his quiet time.  He enjoyed being alone.  Composing.  Playing with the strings of his guitar.  Different chords.  And rhythms.  Melodies.  And rhymes.  He was loving the silence.

Not all the time, of course.  He missed the stage.  Singing and dancing and even clowning around with his buddies.  And the interactions with ARMY.  But the silent space that he’d found in the last year hadn’t been all bad.  It was…calming.

He had found an unexpected peace.  By growing through his frustrations.  And by trying new things.  And by simply…breathing.

This past year had been a challenging one.  And a good one.  He had finally had the time to get his shoulder fixed.  And he was healing nicely.  He stretched his arm just to remind himself of how good that section of his body felt now.  He was so thankful that he’d had the opportunity to get the surgery that his body had needed to mend properly.

Still, his absence from the group’s promotions had bothered him.  The emptiness had lingered.  It had been clear that the seventh member was nowhere to be found when the boys were performing on a stage.  Even one created in a studio.  Or simply outside.  BTS wasn’t six.  It was seven.  It had always been thus.  And it always would be.

Of course, now he was nearly completely healed, so he was back to performing with his boys.  And enjoying the easy camaraderie into which they had slipped after so many years growing up together.

So now he was preparing for the future.  For the concerts.  And the performances.  And the recording studio.  Writing songs sparked by his passions.  He was now often using his guitar to feel the vibrations of his new melodies.

He couldn’t carry a piano with him when he traveled.  And a keyboard was surely cumbersome.  But this beautiful guitar hugged its case as he lugged it around.  With ease.  Or even better…when he convinced Jungkookie to carry it for him.  Which really wasn’t a difficult task at all.  The boy doted on him.  Nearly as much as Yoongi adored his little one.