~Chapter Three~

Have I ever told you about the time I actually met the weirdos of Bangtan? No, I don’t believe I have. Would you like to know the story?

Yes, you certainly would. It was a cruelly cold winter, my first experienced one after running away to Seoul. I actually came from Japan. Yes, a Japanese- American, Caucasian-Asian, salvaged a one way flight to Seoul, South Korea. I’m more Caucasian than anything, however, the very slight almond shape of my eyes being the only link I have to appearing as a descendent of my Japanese mother. After my parents split when I was a wee one, my father moved back to Ohio, U.S. I stayed with my mother, lucky to be bilingual at the age of eight. Speaking English came in handy, I’ll tell you.

My mother raised me as any good single parent should, though she was head of a very large trading industry that dealt with regions across all of Asia. So common travel was necessary. We stayed a few years in China, where I picked up some Mandarin, then spent a summer in Thailand, the quietest I remained during my travels, and finally, my first trip to South Korea happened around the age of fifteen. I didn’t get what the big deal was about the place until I stepped foot onto its soil; or, rather, collapsed under the weight of my baggage onto a beautiful teenage boy. In that moment, staring into the beady eyes of a mystical creature, I realized I was, not only in a miraculous country, but severely out of place with my ordinary looks. And after that teenage boy politely helped me to my feet and collected my items for me, I knew that stay would be the best.

Sure, I haven’t run into the leader of Seventeen, S Coups, again after that, but still, someday I’ll have to thank him for showing me true beauty, even if it was before his big debut. I didn’t learn a whole lot of Korean during my stay, which wasn’t wholly necessary at my international school. I made the best friends I’ve ever met in all my years there. Tragic it was only a year until I had to pack up and fly back to Tokyo.

But my love for the place didn’t end there; I taught myself Korean up until the end of schooling in Japan. I was nineteen when I finally decided to leave, something my mother wasn’t entirely fond of, though I wasn’t planning to roll in the capital her wealthy empire would provide me with. Growing up and being responsible was something I needed to do alone, I thought. Fat lot of good that did. I stayed with an old school friend in her apartment until I managed to find a job that would provide housing, which was a lucky scavenge for me. But I was so excited. “I’m doing this right!” I would always think. No, you weren’t. You weren’t doing it right.

I spent six months working as a glorious mascot dancing outside of a famed home-styled kimchi joint. I wasn’t complaining a whole lot, but the boss was awfully demanding. Of course, I always made slip ups and mistakes, as I am possibly the clumsiest soul to walk the earth. Also, my uniform was horrifying. My dancing skills were limited in the giant costume, but I was known as Peebo the Pig, in honor of the restaurant’s famed Buta kimchi (pork) stir fry, and I was also known as having the most enthusiastic dance moves. Damn it was hard to breath in there, but hearing the jeers of my audience not only made me feel better, but raked up the cash flow for the boss.

Anyways, the story sidetracked, but this is how I met BTS.

An evening like all others, and I do believe I already mentioned that it was a cruel winter, I was suited up in my usual bulky pig costume, the one where one eye was just slightly larger than the other, and I was dancing away as per usual. At one point, I heard commotion beyond the doors, because, , I guess I hadn’t realized the internationally famed Bangtan Boys had dined in at my workplace. I heard the word from some fans who were on-looking from outside the place, and of course I had heard of them and few of their songs, but I needed to focus on maintaining my job. I carried on my dancing and advertising until the awes and ooes from the onlookers led me to believe it was the idol group exiting from the doors behind. I gulped. I wasn’t a fan as much as these lassies around, but still… to be in the presence of people so famed and recognized.

The mascot uniform kept me warm from the cold, but not once that winter had I actually managed to break into sweat like I had then. I heard them laughing, their footsteps growing closer as they greeted the modest fans. “Ignore them, yo