The platform lifts the seven members up into a cloud of smoke and magenta light as screams and IDOL tear through the stadium leaving you dazed in the darkened space underneath the stage with Arahae and Doyun. Music, cheering, and the voices of BTS fill every space in the stadium, but your thoughts rise above it all as the realization sinks in that Jungkook was toying with you. Shame burns through you as you remember his dark eyes mercilessly on you, confusing your thoughts and making a fool of you. For fun.
Smug bastard.
You follow Arahae out of the metal tunnel into the stadium, the fluorescents stinging your eyes, with Doyun close behind. “Now, we wait for their wardrobe changes and see if they need anything,” she says over the commotion of the concert as she threads her way through people. She leads you back through the metal doors to the dressing room hallway where the concert becomes muffled. In BTS’ dressing room, she points to a setlist posted on a wall. “The next one is after Magic Shop in about thirty minutes. Be prepared for any injuries and don’t let them overheat.” She hands you one of the three battery-powered portable fans nearby. Doyun grabs his own and sits in a corner, checking his phone.
Sitting in one of the chairs, you turn the plastic fan over in your hand as Arahae sits sober and quiet next to you. You feel Doyun’s sharp eyes on you a few times but your mind is overwhelmed with more pressing matters.
He was just playing with me.
Each song that softens into the next inches closer to what you’re not ready for—facing Jungkook and his twisted games.
The final notes of Magic Shop circulate through the stadium, mixing with the cheers of fans. Arahae and Doyun stand, hugging the perimeter of the room, and you do the same as your heart thunders.
Muted concert footage plays as the entrance doors burst open followed by a storm of footsteps and heavy breathing. The seven members pour into the room with a chaotic cloud of hair stylists and makeup artists in their wake. Looking at Arahae and Doyun for a hint of what to do, you watch them check on the other members and use the fans to cool them off.
Squeezing your way past other staff in the now crowded room, you find Jungkook in his designated space by the mirror with beads of sweat decorating his skin. You grab a neatly folded towel from his vanity table and hand it to him. He takes it from you and dabs his face and neck before tearing his prince themed jacket off as he tames his unruly breathing. The ruffled white shirt underneath is soaked with sweat and clings to him.
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, hanging his jacket over the back of his chair. The white shirt is practically translucent, betraying the shape and form of what lies beneath.
You realize you’re staring and flip on the portable fan in your hand, pointing it at him. The soft breeze gently feathers his thick bangs.
Jungkook smirks. You lower the fan.
“Fine,” you say. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” The admission feels like sparks from flint and steel to pine.
Jungkook smiles, enjoying your struggle. “Some water would be nice.”
A voice you don’t recognize shouts, “Hoseok, we need you ready in three!” Staff members zip around you, obscuring Arahae and Doyun.
You wrestle a water bottle out of a large pack and thrust it to him.
What was I thinking? I left everything for this—to be degraded by Jungkook. It’s obvious he thinks I’m just some stupid fangirl! Insufferable prick!
It comes out before you can stop it.
“Can you open it yourself or do you need someone to do that for you, too?” you ask.
Namjoon breaks into laughter from where he sits behind you with staff touching up his hair and makeup, and your face flushes.
“You know what, I like you,” Namjoon says. “He needs to be humbled.”
Jungkook recovers from his momentary shock to eye you as if seeing you in a new light, investigating the chinks in your armour. His soft eyes find yours as he begins slowly undoing the first few buttons of his sticky shirt, daring you to keep eye contact.
“Wardrobe change,” he mutters, turning and leaving the dressing room.
Red-faced, you stumble your way through the crowded dressing room and into the medical staff’s room. In the calm, you feel your racing heart. You grab a water bottle and chug it, the cool liquid slithering down to douse the fire. You can make out Hobi’s Trivia 起: Just Dance performance through the speakers in the arena beyond the doors.
The empty water bottle cracks and crinkles as you crush it in your hand and throw it into the garbage.
Leaving room 3, you see Jungkook in a romantic white outfit with a denim jacket preparing for Euphoria in room 4. His cockiness is replaced by sharp, serious focus as he quickly rehearses a few lines and dance moves. Mazing through chairs and people, you find an empty space near him after grabbing the plastic portable fan and another water bottle. He’s so absorbed in his practice that he hardly notices your presence. There’s a fierce dedication in his eyes as he runs through vocal exercises, and you give him space, taking in this new side of him.
A voice calls, “Jungkook, we’re ready for you!”
He glances over at you as indication to follow, so you walk with him wordlessly to the same dimly lit place under the stage. The fans roar as Hobi’s solo ends, and you sense Jungkook stiffen next to you. All of his playfulness gone, he has a far-off look as he stares at a fixed point. The thick, damp air underneath the stage takes on a suffocating quality that wasn’t there before. You wonder how many moments like these he’s had to endure alone, the thought creating an aching corkscrew in your chest. The center stage platform lowers, and you feel a strange helplessness well up inside you.
Stepping onto the platform, his eyes drift to you. You raise a fist and mouth, “Fighting.” In the low light, his heavy demeanor cracks as he smiles, leaving that distant place where you can’t be and bringing him back to you. He raises a fist in response, relieving that horrible, twisted feeling. He slides in his purple in-ear monitors and faces center to wait for his cue. You watch as he’s lifted up into the stadium of adoring fans, a place where he can leap and always be caught.
Standing in the darkness alone listening to his smooth, airy tenor caress the stadium, a wild thing awakens.
You’d felt this once before when you met Isabella, a rowdy tomboy who joined your school in the ninth grade. You first noticed her roaming the halls alone, long legged with wavy black hair, and something in you made you talk to her. After that, she was an extrovert who picked you as her introvert. She insisted you join the soccer team with her, and many afternoons were spent practicing and talking until the street lights came on accompanied with their electric hum. One balmy night in June after junior year when she was sleeping over, you kissed her, and she kissed you back. You woke up the next morning buried in her hair, inhaling her scent. Like a strong magnet relentlessly pulling and attracting, you were inseparable. After graduation, you went to different colleges and promised to keep in touch, but, eventually, the distance was too much as you led separate lives. Learning to live without her was like existing without the piece of you that housed your heart, coating the world in monochrome monotony.
Walking back out into the harsh light and returning to room 4, you sink into the chair Jungkook was sitting in, placing the portable fan and bottled water on the vanity in front of you.
“Sorry I lost you!” Arahae says from where she’s looking at the setlist on the wall. “Did everything go okay?”
“Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Great! Their next costume change is after Run.”
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The time passes quickly and soon you hear the concert footage playing and the torrent of footsteps. You press your back against the wall like Arahae and Doyun. Hardly winded, Jungkook seems to have regained his energy as he strides over to you and sits.
You feel that same constant magnetic pull.
“Miss me?” he asks as the staff fusses over him.
“You wish,” you say, handing him the water. In spite of yourself, a smile fights to take shape.
The dressing room is full and crowded again as the seven members and staff operate like a well-oiled machine to stay on schedule. Serendipity seeps in through the walls.
After taking a drink from the bottle, he meets your gaze. “Liar.”
You freeze, but before you get a chance to respond, he chuckles and walks out of the dressing room.
He reappears in a few minutes in leather pants and a brown sequin jacket.
A voice calls, “Get in places for DNA!”
Arahae finds you through the crowd. “I’m glad I caught you! We don’t need to go with them this time. The scaffolding they walk through doesn’t have much space for extra staff.” Jungkook winks before he saunters off with the other members.
“I see he’s getting friendly,” Arahae mumbles.
“Does he do this with everyone?” you half-whisper.
“Don’t get me wrong, he definitely has a fuck boy side. But he’s usually reserved with people he doesn’t know very well.” Arahae nudges your shoulder. “What did you do?”
You raise your eyebrows. “Me? I haven’t done anything! It’s him.”
Arahae laughs. “Either way, I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s a handful!”
“I was wondering” you say, sitting in one of the chairs while you can. “I know it’s not really my business, but why does Jungkook need a medical staff member assigned to just him?”
Arahae takes the chair next to you and leans in. “He was one of the members assigned to Doyun, but we’ve had several…incidents.”
“Like what?”
“You already know about the collapse on the Wings tour.” You nod. “Jungkook…he doesn’t know when to stop. He’ll work himself into the ground if he’s left to himself. Such a perfectionist! Doyun can’t be with him all the time on top of taking care of the other members. He’s taken it a little personally.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it soon. But you didn’t hear it from me!”
The music crests and falls, each song blending into the next like waves in an ocean pulled by the tide until you hear Airplane Pt. 2.
“Okay!” Arahae says, standing. “This one’s going to be hectic. They have one song to do a wardrobe change for Fake Love. Get him whatever he needs to stay on schedule.”
Your heart quickens in anticipation. The clamor returns to the dressing room as the members spill in, and your eyes are immediately on Jungkook. He’s drenched in sweat. Too much sweat. There’s a pallor to his face with a dullness in his eyes. You meet him halfway.
“What the hell happened?” you ask, scanning him.
“I might have overdone it,” he says weakly, sliding into the chair and resting his head back. Mind racing, you help him shrug off his jacket, and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath.
“Jesus, Jungkook,” you say, grabbing the towel and dabbing his face and neck. You click on your portable fan to cool him. With your free hand, you find his rapid yet strong radial pulse in the groove below his thumb.
The dehydration must not be too severe if his peripheral pulses are strong.
The corners of his mouth play at a smile as he watches you. Grabbing a Gatorade from a case nearby, you force it on him. “Drink.”
He sits up and takes long gulps.
There’s not enough time.
“You still have to change. How do you feel?”
He stands with a small wobble. “I’ll be okay.”
You eye him, crossing your arms.
“Really, I’ll be fine,” he says, giving a small smile at your skepticism and heading for the changing room.
Waiting in the dressing room corridor, your eyes stay glued to the changing room door as a raw nagging forms in the pit of your stomach. When he emerges, some color has returned to his face and he walks more steadily in his all black outfit. You release a breath you were holding in.
He walks up to where you’re standing against the wall, the narrow corridor forcing intimacy. “That worried, huh,” he says in a low voice.
Your thoughts muddle as you pick up light scents of sweat, spice, and woodsy amber. “It’s kind of my job. Which you’re making pretty difficult, by the way.”
“Another lie.” He inches closer ever so slightly as blood rushes to your cheeks and heart pounds. “Bad girl.”
You catch fire.
“Places for Fake Love!” one of the production staff announces.
He places a hand behind your elbow, electricity forming at his touch, and guides you to walk next to him.
Head spinning, you make your way with Jungkook once again to the tunnel underneath the stage and try to throw off the effects of his sadistic game, your arm still tingling.
The seven members step onto the center stage platform dressed in all black outfits of loose button ups and leather pants. Feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you, you avoid him and find Arahae next to Doyun. The platform lifts them up into the darkness.
The three of you walk back to BTS’ dressing room, and you attempt to choke the heat that courses through your body. You walk over to where the setlist is posted and see that the next wardrobe change is for The Truth Untold.
The final notes for Fake Love ring out and fans scream. Soon after, BTS enters the room.
You inspect Jungkook for any signs of further dehydration to see the pallor hasn’t returned. Making sure he has Gatorade in hand, you turn the fan on and point it at him as he slows his breathing.
“I could get used to this.”
Yep. He’s fine.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You know what I would really like? To get through my first show without you passing out. Drink. You need the electrolytes.”
He smirks at your order like it’s cute before taking long gulps. Epiphany starts in the venue, and he stands. “Time to go,” he says, heading to the changing room. The wobble in his gait is gone.
Arahae finds you in the crowded room. “Hey! What was up with Jungkook earlier? He didn’t look so great.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he almost passed out from dehydration.” Arahae’s eyes widen. “Don’t worry, he’s fine now.”
She relaxes and rolls her eyes. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Oh, and we’ll just stay in here until the encore.” You both move out of the way and sit by the wall.
“So, how do you feel so far?” Arahae asks.
“This is actually exhausting,” you say, holding your head in your hands.
“I know it’s a lot at first. I promise you’ll get used to it, and it’ll get easier. Besides, you’re doing great! You’ve already kept Jungkook from passing out,” she says, giggling. “We needed another woman in here. Too much testosterone,” she says, waving a hand at the room filled with men.
“I can see that,” you say, smiling. “How did you get this job?”
“I’ve always wanted to work in the music industry, so after I graduated from nursing school, I applied to work in the Emergency Department to get experience. Then I sent out a bunch of applications and got this job a year ago. I’m riding this out for as long as I can. It’s amazing!”
“Emergency? Damn, you saw some shit,” you say.
“You were in the Medical ICU, right? I’m sure you did, too.”
A knowing silence passes between you.
“What about Doyun?”
“He’s an EMT and–” She pauses to listen to Mic Drop playing. “Okay, we’re almost to the end of the concert,” she says, standing. You stand with her, and she turns to you. “I can’t wait to celebrate after! We still have to decide where to go.”
You open your mouth to respond, but the seven members burst into the room. You hear the muffled sound of fans chanting through the walls. Jungkook glistens with sweat while breathing roughly, and you hand him a fresh towel.
Cooling him with the fan, you ask, “Still feeling okay?”
“Yeah, much better,” he says, appearing deep in thought. “Be back,” he says, leaving the dressing room.
A few minutes later, he reappears wearing the encore outfit you first met him in, and butterflies whirl in your stomach. He motions for you to follow him.
Following Jungkook along with the other members one last time into the scaffolding underneath the stage, you look around at BTS, Arahae, and Doyun. For a moment, you feel so out of place, you feel heartsick for familiarity. The weight of this very long day threatens to crash down on you.
Your mom’s words echo in your head.
You’ll regret this when you’re alone on the road.
A dark ugliness knots inside you.
In the dim tunnel, Jungkook looks at you for a moment then leans over and says, “You can stay.”
You hope he can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.
“Alright, everyone,” Namjoon says. “This is the last leg of our first sold out stadium show. Let’s keep our energy up and show our love to ARMY! This is a night we won’t ever forget.”
You hear shouts of affirmation and clapping. The seven members step onto the platform one final time and Jungkook raises a fist to you. You hold up your own as they’re lifted into the stage and fans shriek with elation.
As So What sounds through the stadium, a buried part of you is unearthed.