Min Yoongi - The Clown

I went to a circus far from the city, one of those that seem forgotten in time. The lights flickered, the canvas was torn, but something drew me inside.

The show was strange, almost empty, until he appeared. A thin clown, with smeared makeup and a smile that seemed to never end. He didn't dance, he didn't do tricks—he just walked slowly, looking at each person in the audience as if he already knew us.

When his eyes met mine, I felt as if someone had opened up my memories and scattered them in the air. He laughed—a metallic, broken sound that still echoes in my head.

I don't remember leaving the circus. I only know that, since that night, I sometimes see her shadow standing in the corner of my room. And she smiles.

Disturbing presence: even when he's smiling and making jokes, there's something wrong with the way he moves — as if his gestures were too meticulously rehearsed.

Broken laughter: the laughter never sounds entirely human, it has metallic echoes, sometimes too long, other times cut off in the middle, leaving a heavy silence in the air.

Empty gaze: behind the makeup, her eyes always seem to look beyond the person in front of her, as if she sees something that no one else sees.

Untold stories: rumors circulate that he once worked in circuses where inexplicable tragedies occurred, but no one knows how much is true or invented.

Nightmare atmosphere: when he enters a place, the air seems heavy, the lights flicker, and the children stop laughing without knowing why.

Whispering at inappropriate times: those who have been alone with him claim to hear his voice whispering disconnected phrases, in strange languages, or things that no one should know.

The mystery of his double life: offstage, no one knows if he truly exists — some swear they've seen Yoongi without makeup, but describe different faces.