“Admit it, Namjoon,” you sneered, tapping your nails against your full-blown mischievous grin. “It kills you that I’m a woman. It kills you that I have you and your group dancing in the palm of my hand.”

Namjoon glared at you from the booth. Hoseok fidgeted uncomfortably behind you in the leather sofa, unsure of where this would go. He desperately wished Yoongi would return from the bathroom quick enough to dissolve this tension.

“I’ll do it however many times you want,” Namjoon hissed, adjusting his headphones and positioning himself in front of the mic. “But I doubt you’re going to last the next four hours of recording.”

You smirked in confidence. “Try me, you poor little boy.”

You turned up the sound in the booth, and fiddled with the switchboard once his voice entered the track. He needed to relax and enjoy this recording session; instead, he was huffing through the process desperate to prove himself. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ego these boys possessed. All of their popularity had gone to their heads. Once he finished his rap, you let the track fade off. Before pushing on your mic.

“Still, below satisfactory, Namjoon,” you murmured in a sing-song tone. “At this rate, we’ll have to have the vocals finished before the raps, don’t you think?”

Namjoon snapped. They had been at it for the past hour, with her repeatedly shutting him down in front of Yoongi and Hoseok. The atmosphere was thick with the tension and there was no way to push back the annoyance from his tone whenever he started rapping. God knows what it took to satisfy this tiger lady wannabe. But before he could utter the inappropriate names he was about to call her, she had already typed on her phone and signaled for the vocals to enter. He gaped at her audacity.

Hoseok looked beyond scared, and Yoongi had just entered the room before he was met with Jin, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook at the door. They looked just about as clueless as the genius producer-rapper as their eyes turned to their leader’s fuming red face and then to the calm demeanor of your own as you stretched out your arms above your head nonchalantly.

Jimin grimaced at the scene, fully aware that you had pissed off the wrong person. They would never hear the end of it once they got back to their dorm. And all because the cold, calculating in front of him couldn’t be courteous enough to act like a girl she so obviously, and biologically, was. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the scene, and then sat down beside Hoseok with a huff, completely put out by the fact that they had been summoned so early. Yoongi silently watched, wondering why it was so hard to please this woman. Namjoon had been at it for an hour and she was finding every and any fault she could in his verse. He shuddered at the thought of himself being in that very booth, he wasn’t sure he could handle it half as well as Rapmon did even if it was half an hour.

Taehyung strolled into the room carefully, cautiously watching you for any signs of a bomb ticking and then bouncing off on him. Jin quietly sat by Jungkook, watching the atmosphere for whoever was going to speak up first to break the heavy strain in the air.

“Get out, Namjoon,” you spoke up coldly. “Come back after you’ve cooled your head.”

The door blew open with a bang, making all of the boys flinch, and Namjoon stormed out of the recording room, slamming the door closed behind him.

“ing hell,” Jimin muttered under his breath as he watched your unaffected posture.