Ghosts of the Past

The sound of sneakers squeaking against polished wood echoed through the dance studio, a sharp contrast to the low thrum of the bass-heavy music playing from the speakers. Jimin moved with the kind of grace and precision that had made him famous—a perfectionist’s obsession with detail mixed with a dancer’s passion. His body flowed effortlessly, muscles remembering choreography even when his mind was elsewhere.

It had been five years since Jimin had seen him. Five years since everything fell apart. And yet, despite the time that had passed, Yoongi still lived in the corners of Jimin’s mind. There wasn’t a day when the ghost of their relationship didn’t linger in some form—whether it was a song that reminded him of late nights spent together in the studio or a fleeting memory of the way Yoongi’s hands had once held him like he was something fragile and precious.

Jimin exhaled sharply, his movements faltering. He stopped, leaning against the mirror, eyes staring at his reflection but seeing something else entirely. He thought he had left all of that behind. He thought he was over it—over him.

But when the text had come in last week, asking him to collaborate on a high-profile music video, the name attached to the project had stopped him in his tracks. *Min Yoongi.* It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, throwing their paths together again after all this time.

“I can handle this,” Jimin whispered to himself, closing his eyes. “I’m stronger now.”

But no amount of personal growth could prepare him for facing Yoongi again.

---

The day of the meeting arrived faster than Jimin expected. He stood outside the studio, the one Yoongi had turned into his home over the years. The building loomed large, cold and unfamiliar despite how many times he’d been there in the past. He swallowed hard and took a breath. This was just work—nothing more. He had faced far worse than a past lover in his career. He could do this.

With a push of the door, he entered, the sound of music already greeting him from the hallway. It was Yoongi’s music. His sound was unmistakable—sharp, distinct, and somehow still managing to make Jimin’s heart clench. He moved down the corridor, each step heavier than the last, until he reached the main studio.

Yoongi was there.

His back was to the door, hunched over his laptop, headphones on. He looked… exactly the same and yet so different. His hair was shorter now, dyed an inky black, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Jimin watched him for a moment, unsure whether to announce his presence or quietly leave before anyone noticed him.

But fate—or perhaps something more twisted—had other plans.

Yoongi shifted, taking off his headphones, and turned as if sensing someone watching him. Their eyes met across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to suspend itself. Everything around them blurred—the music, the world outside, even the years that had separated them. It was just them, locked in a stare that was filled with too many emotions to name.

Shock. Pain. Regret. But most of all, a heavy silence that neither knew how to break.

Jimin was the first to move, awkwardly clearing his throat as if the sound would shatter the invisible wall between them. “Yoongi,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “It’s been a while.”

Yoongi didn’t respond at first, just stood there, eyes still fixed on Jimin as if he couldn’t quite believe he was real. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, like the words had been stuck for years. “Yeah. Too long.”

The air between them was thick, heavy with the weight of everything they hadn’t said. Jimin shifted, unsure of what to do with his hands, his body suddenly feeling too small for the room. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, hadn’t rehearsed what he would say. He had thought about it, of course. Replayed this reunion in his mind a hundred times. But now that it was happening, he was at a loss.

“I didn’t know you were attached to the project,” Jimin said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

Yoongi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his usual stoic demeanor slipping back into place. “I didn’t either. They didn’t tell me you’d be choreographing until last minute.”

Jimin nodded, swallowing hard. Of course. Why would they tell him? He was just another name on a list, another person they hired to make the video happen. But still, something about hearing Yoongi say it out loud made his chest tighten.

“It’s fine,” Jimin said quickly, trying to mask the awkwardness. “We’re both professionals. We can handle this.”

Yoongi gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. We can.”

But there was something in his voice, a hint of something unspoken, that made Jimin wonder if either of them actually believed that.

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Jimin shifted his weight, trying to find something, *anything* to break the awkwardness, but every word he could think of seemed inadequate. His mind was racing, memories flashing through his head uninvited—the nights they spent together, the fights, the laughter, the way Yoongi had kissed him like it was the only thing that mattered.

“I should go,” Jimin finally said, taking a step back. “I need to meet with the director about the choreography.”

Yoongi’s gaze followed him, something flickering in his eyes that Jimin couldn’t quite place. “Yeah,” he murmured. “See you later.”

As Jimin turned and walked away, his heart was pounding in his chest. He had known this would be hard, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of seeing Yoongi again, for the way his presence still had the power to stir up emotions Jimin had buried long ago.

He thought he was over it. Over him.

But as he stepped out of the studio and into the bright sunlight, Jimin realized that some things—some people—were harder to let go of than he ever imagined.

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