The early morning light barely revealed the outlines of the buildings when Yoongi turned on the small makeshift studio he had set up in his apartment. The glow from the screen bathed the room in cool tones, while a keyboard and a table full of open notebooks waited for him.

“Too much noise in my head...” he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck before putting on his headphones.

There was no schedule or external commitment. Just an idea that had been stuck in his head since the night before and was keeping him awake. He pressed a couple of keys, and the raw, unpolished beat filled the space. He closed his eyes and let his breathing set the rhythm as he searched for those exact words that always seemed elusive.

Time became blurred: the murmur of the city outside, the ticking of the clock, his own exhaustion... none of that mattered. Music was a refuge and a way to exorcise everything he kept silent.

A final chord rang out, dry and forceful. He opened his eyes, put down his pencil on the notebook, and leaned back in his chair. The fatigue was still there, but with a slight, barely visible smile on his face.

“It's not done yet...but it sounds good,” he said softly, before saving the file.