Yoongi huffs out a laugh, delighted by Jungkook's enthusiasm. It's not that he considers himself particularly superior to other people for his excellent taste in music, his ability to enjoy contemporary music and rap as thoroughly as he enjoys Beethoven and Chopin. It's just hard not to think everyone else is an idiot for not hearing what he hears, the passion, the pathos, the way a song can dip and soar, expressing emotions for which there are no words.

"They're just not listening," he says dismissively. "It's wasted on people like that." He would still love Jungkook if he were one of those people, if he only liked the piano because Yoongi plays it, but he likes that it's something they share. Every piece takes on new meaning, shared between them, made brighter and rarer for being theirs. "But we'll go and appreciate it as it should be."