“NOOOOOO!!!” I roar at the memories of my nightmare-- springing up from the bed. “NOOOOOO!!!!” I continue to roar as I tuck on the strands of my short and untamed hair. “It must have been all a dream.” I say, feeling my body all in one piece. My eyes finally crackle open one at a time, fighting against the oozing morning crust— to find that the incident was nothing but a reality.

“She has a sprained ankle. I would just advise you to keep her feel leveled for the next couple of days. Also, please try to avoid walking around for a bit, of course. Make sure to keep a good eye on her because she seems like the type who would try to escape if she had chance.” The old doctor points his pen at me as I tried to sneak past the draped white curtains, hunching and hopping away.

“Yes, doctor.” The hoarse but familiar deep voice makes me turn around—twisting the dividing curtains with my ankle, causing it to collapse all around me. The patients, faculty, and staff stare at me in croaking silence. Feeling my face turn red and being on the verse of tears, I focus intensively on the thin sheet of blanket on my bed, telling myself that this is not the time to be emotional.

“Mr. Namjoon—“ The doctor sighs, heavily.

I hear a gentle sigh as quiet footsteps gradually come over me.  “I will make sure she’s no more of a distraction than this, doctor.” Rapmon says, attempting to reconnect the hooks of the curtains onto the rod.

“Please do—“ The doctor turns his back, about to leave when another catastrophic incident occurs around us. Rapmon, with one hand flared out above him for protection and the other, holding unto the fallen rod—it gave proof that Rapmon had an amazing ability to break objects that are otherwise indestructible to humanity. The old hunched over doctor with the purple bow tie spins around strikingly fast as a sparkle appears from his glare. Rapmon gives a shining bright smile, hoping it’ll fix the problem he cause. The doctor gives a grieving sigh as he observes the two greatest nuisances standing in front of him. Shaking his head, he totters about unto the next patient.

“Where do you live?” Rapmon asks once we’re situated behind a new curtain.

“Wh-Why?” My eyes bulging in terror.

“Didn’t you hear the doctor’s orders? I need to take you home.” He looks at the medication left on the table beside me—observing it thoroughly.

“I thought he said to keep my feet leveled and avoid walking…” I grumble to myself. Rapmon raises an eyebrow, looking at me. More than a threat, his eyes seem to worry as he searches for assurance in my eyes.

“Are you planning on flying home? Do you have wings?” He asks, calmly—his eyebrows flinching each time he asks a new question. “Are you an angel?” I fumble with my fingers, not answering his quirky remarks. He scoffs—smirking a bit. “What’s your address?” he repeats himself.

“I don’t want to tell you.” I say, softly.

“Why not?” He spews. His patience is growing thinner.

“Because you’re a stranger!” I say, terrified of him a bit. He tries to get up but falls out of his chair like somebody has magically pushed him off with wind. His feet zigzags around him as he tries to regain his stance. He does, surprisingly. ‘Must be from years of encountering his destructiveness,’ I think to myself as I stare at him dance.

“No no no, Grace. A stranger is,” He starts to explain “someone that you just bumped into at the grocery store and ended up with at the hospital because of a vegan friendly incident.” He points a finger to me, then to himself. “But you and I—we’re,” thinks to himself, “more than strangers! We’ve been on a date together, Grace.” He shrugs his shoulders, happily.

“Which you couldn’t wait for it to be over.” I answer honestly. Rapmon sighs and sits at the foot of the bed, drawing little circles into the mattress with his index finger.

“Is that the reason why you have a strong urge to kick me in the balls in your story?” Rapmon looks at me straight in the eyes. I hesitate, wondering how he knew. “That’s right. I’ve subscribed to you. I am your subscriber.” He declares, shaking his hands up in front of his face like a thug.

“S-Subscribed?”

“I will be following your every chapter.” I gulp. “And I will be making sure that you make me just as sweet” (emphasis on sweet) “as Suga hyung. The title’s going to be, ‘Rapmonster, you so sweet’” He proclaims excitedly, drawing an invisible rainbow above his head.

I look at him and let out a little laughter. Cautiously, “Why should I write sweet things about you?” I ask, looking at his self-indulged face.

“Because I, Namjoon,” He leans in closer to me—our faces only inches away, again—“will be taking very good care of you.” A wide grin appears across his face as his eyes imitate the shape of little crescent moons. I feel the beat of my heart grow fuller and stronger as this person before me continues to smile.