"You're so pretty, Hyung."

"Your face is very appealing."

"Your smile is the cutest."

"You look like a fresh dumpling."

Those words always made Yoongi feel good in the moment. Why wouldn't they? Hearing the others say such kind things to him made him feel loved and precious.

But that was only in the moment.

At later times, when he was all alone, those words came back to his mind differently. He couldn't help but wonder if they said those things just to be nice to him. Did they really mean it? Was he pretty or was it said out of pity? Were they lying to simply keep him from spiralling downward, as he was known to do behind the scenes?

Yoongi wanted to believe those words. Really, he did. But he couldn't. He couldn't believe those words because they didn't match what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

The others kept calling him pretty, cute, handsome, various food/animal nicknames, etc. That wasn't what Yoongi saw at all. And he tried. He tried so hard to look in the mirror and identify those things about himself.

But none of it was there, never found by his own eyes.

He wished he could explain the way he saw himself. He wanted to tell them and hopefully be reassured that it was all in his head. But would that be seen as seeking pity or fishing for compliments? He was scared of causing everyone to think he would do that.

Even now, as he stood in the bathroom, Yoongi's eyes failed to find what everyone else saw or claimed to see.

He saw monster. Not scary but ugly. He forced a smile to see if he could like it. He couldn't.

Lifting a hand, he poked at his lips then picked at his teeth a little. What could he do to turn his smile into one he could agree was cute?

Yoongi pressed his fingers to his cheeks and felt around, wondering if his skin was smooth enough. He didn't think so. Touching his face, he could only feel disgust and anger, so upset that he couldn't see what he was told.

Why couldn't he see it? Was it really there? Was everyone just complimenting him dishonestly?

He wanted to believe that the others wouldn't lie to him, but would they lie if the truth would upset him?

Leaning his back against the wall, Yoongi sank down to the floor, his hands over his face. The thoughts swirling in his mind were enough to tear him down again and again.

Why am I so ugly?

Why can't I see what everyone else says they see?

Do they really see me that way?

Or are they lying to be nice?

Yoongi wanted to trust the others, but he couldn't see what they said.

The moments were nice, but the aftereffects left him in pain.