“Tell me what happened.”

Eunji readies her pen on the clipboard as her stoney eyes stare back at you without further explanation. She looks to be in her forties and wears a fashionably cut bob, her midnight black hair falling just below her chin.

Blinking yourself into focus, you revert to your work persona as you explain the events and your observations to her matter-of-factly just as you did with the EMTs. She listens intently while scribbling notes, her face giving nothing away. Fear and anxiety begin to coil and grip you.

“I’m a nurse,” you add at the end, hoping to provide some explanation as to why you were involved at all. You try not to think of all the money Big Hit has to throw at a lawsuit.

Eunji raises a manicured eyebrow. “What unit?”

“Medical ICU,” you say, feeling like this is becoming a cross-examination.

She pauses to watch the EMTs as they maneuver and secure Jungkook to the stretcher a few feet away and turns to face you again. Her eyes scan you which causes you to instinctively draw your shoulders back and lift your chin.

When she’s done, she asks, “And I suppose you have a name?”

“Jasmine Law, “ you say, attempting to appear calm and confident while your heart pounds in your ears.

She taps her pen against her clipboard while deep in thought, and you shift uncomfortably. As if she’s decided something, she extends the clipboard and pen toward you. “Fill out this form with your contact info. Name, address, phone number, and where you’re staying.”

You hesitate as your chest tightens. “Why do you need this information?”

“That’s none of your concern,” she says evenly, and your stomach drops.

Please, please don’t sue me.

You have a fleeting thought of sprinting out of the building but decide the odds are not in your favor.

She stares back at you expectantly.

Afraid of what will happen if you don’t fill out the paperwork, you tentatively take the clipboard and pen, fill out your information, and hand it back to her. She gives you one more thoughtful glance before turning on her heels and assisting the medical staff.

Head spinning, you watch as Jungkook is carried out on a stretcher into an ambulance outside for further examination at a local hospital. Park Eunji with other medical staff and the six members of BTS follow him out of the building.

The airport feels empty and hollow, and you search for Nikki. You see her slack-jawed about where you broke away from her earlier.

“What was that?” she asks as you make your way to her. Her eyes are wide as if she’s integrating the you she just saw into the you she’s always known.

“Honestly, I have no idea…” you say as you keep your head down and focus on gaining distance from what you now consider to be the most embarrassing moment of your life. “It was like something else was controlling me.” Nikki struggles to keep pace with you as you search for an exit.

You brush your thumb over the pads of your first and middle fingers, the moment returning instantly. His skin was like velvet, and it felt criminal to know. The remnants of his pulse still played on your fingers like an imprint.

Nikki laughs as if she’s remembered something funny. “And to think you did all that with your Cooky headband!”

“Are you serious?” you ask as you tear the headband off, quickening your pace to the exit.

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You attempt to imagine what Jungkook saw, and your face turns scarlet. Not to mention how so very serious you tried to be under Eunji’s scrutiny.

As if this could get any worse.

“I think I’m going to get sued by Big Hit, “ you confess.

“Why?” Nikki asks.

“The head of the medical staff took my information.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, she wouldn’t tell me.”

Nikki stares at you for a moment looking unsure of what to say. Finally, she says, “Well, that should make tomorrow even more interesting.”

• • •

Back at the hotel room, you decide to confront Nikki.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” You sit on the twin bed facing her as she sits on the other twin bed across from you.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Why did you take off? We had a whole conversation about how we’d stay a safe distance away,” you say, bracing yourself for her response.

“Yeah,“ she says as she glances down sheepishly. “I guess I got carried away. I had no idea it would be that dangerous.” She looks at you and says, “I’m sorry.”

You exhale a breath you’d been holding in. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

After a moment, she asks, “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“I mean, you got really close to Jungkook and BTS.” A smile forms and she says, “Thanks to me, I might add.”

You roll your eyes at her then giggle as you say, “Nikki. I checked his pulse.”

“You touched him??” she says, slamming her hands on her knees.

“Yeah, I kinda did.”

You both fall into laughter.

• • •

You and Nikki stand side by side in the mirror giving yourselves a last look before heading out to the concert. You now regret packing the 90’s style vintage shirt you got from Etsy, but it’s all you have to wear. It’s an oversized black shirt with “JUNGKOOK” in large font and variations of his face all over it. It’s paired with baggy light wash jeans and purple converse. You look down at your Cooky headband, turning it in your hands and wondering if you should wear it. You and Nikki coordinated your outfits, so she has a similar style shirt with Namjoon. She’s dressed it with dark wash ripped jeans and black converse. And, of course, her Koya headband.

Nikki gasps while looking at her phone. “Koreaboo posted an article on the incident at the airport!”

“Oh, god. The incident.”

Nikki doesn’t pay attention to your comment and is engrossed in the article. She reads, “‘A fan with a medical background saves Jungkook from a swarm of overzealous fans when he’s rushed and trampled exiting his gate. There are no sources on who this fan is, but we all want to extend her our thanks. Big Hit has released a statement that Jungkook left the scene with only a bruise and will still perform tonight with BTS.’”

Your head swims, echoing her words. Before you can form coherent sentences, there’s a knock at the door. You and Nikki exchange a confused glance, and you make your way over to the door. Looking through the peephole, you see a young woman dressed in a hotel staff uniform holding something you can’t quite make out.

“Who is it?” Nikki asks.

“A hotel employee,” you respond, dread pooling in your stomach.

This is it. I’m being served.

Opening the door as Nikki stands a few steps behind you, you’re both stunned into silence.

“Are you Jasmine Law?” the employee asks, smiling politely.

“Yes,” you say hoarsely.

“These were ordered to your room,” she says as she extends what she’s holding.

The soft, airy tulle crinkles in your hand as you accept it and sweet floral scents glide over your face. You grasp the grouping of stems.

A bouquet.

Without a word more, the young woman leaves, and the door closes.

You hold a full, artistic arrangement of pink tulips, sprigs of lavender, and baby’s breath wrapped in white tulle. A matching white envelope sits in the center of the bouquet.

“Do you have a stalker?” Nikki asks as she eyes you and the flowers.

“No,” you say, entranced.

There’s a slight tremor in your hand as you reach to take the envelope and open it. The card is a simple and elegant design of pure white with gold trim.

You open the card.

Thank you for your courage yesterday.

We hope you like the flowers.

Enjoy the show tonight.

BTS