Bangtan Sonyeondan, the boy group that has flipped the worldwide charts, the boy group that is adored by multiple local and international artists, the boy group that has been setting the trend. Everyone knows them. Whether they’re into Kpop or not, they know BTS.

What I learned about them for the past whole week is that they have more than 6 million followers on Twitter, 4 million likes on Facebook, 3 million subscribers on Youtube, and another 3 million followers on Instagram. Their music videos can get to over 100 million views, which is impressive for a Korean boy group. I gotta admit, I think they are lovable after seeing some of their videos. And for the record, I think Rap Monster is incredibly hot.

Some nights I’d stay up thinking of all the things that could happen to me once the mixtape is released. What will happen next? Will I finally quit my job? Will I be able to repay Mr. Han? Will my parents finally accept what I do? Sometimes I would cry thinking, “I finally did it.” For the past few weeks, I’ve been losing some sleep because of these kind of thoughts.

I’ve been dying to receive Min Yoongi’s call. I couldn’t wait for the opportunity ahead of me.

“Black coffee, venti,” he dragged the words as if he was too tired to open his mouth and properly articulate the words.

“Iced?” I assumed.

Yoongi nodded. He didn’t look at me. He had his eyes pierced on the cashier, waiting for his balance to show up on the series of seven-segment displays sitting right in front of him. He quickly paid after I punched his order on the cashier and took his seat without saying a word.

“I’m taking a break,” I told Kihyun as I passed the receipt to him. I walked to the locker room and grabbed my lunchbox from my bag. Usually, I’d eat inside the locker room with Mr. Han so when he saw me take my lunchbox out, he sat on the table in the middle of the locker room where we usually have lunch.

“Not today, Sir,” I gave him an apologetic look and shuffled through the kitchen to find Yoongi writing on his notebook.

I placed my lunchbox and took the seat in front of him. He looked annoyed when he looked up at me, and in that moment, I felt like burying myself on the ground out of embarrassment. I felt like I was feeling too close to him even when we just talked once. And I gotta admit, I thought I had the privilege to do that. I completely forgot about the fact that I’m supposed to feel intimidated by him since he’s a famous pop star and all. I thought of standing up and leaving him alone but I was already there and I already did it. Goddamn it.

“I’m sorry, do you mind sharing your table?” I awkwardly asked, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“What?” He crunched his forehead as he took his earphones off, probably blasting some classic western hip hop.

“Do you mind if I…”

“Yes.” He looked around and examined the room. There were a lot of empty seats, there were only like four people in the coffee shop. “Go sit somewhere else,” he said and looked down at his notes and silently read it with his eyes.

I sat still, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to talk about my song and the offer he gave me a few weeks ago. I wanted to start doing whatever he had planned about it.

“Where’s my coffee?” he muttered without looking at me.

“I’m on a break,” I replied as I opened my lunchbox.

“Oh…” His eyes travelled from his notebook, to my lunchbox, then to my eyes. I thought he’d start asking me to leave and tell me I’m being annoying. But “Okay” was the only thing he said before he continued writing.

I took my chopstick out and started picking some green peas from the bed of rice. Yes, I prepare my own lunch because it would be much cheaper compared to fast food.

As I chew the fried eggs, I watch the serious Min Yoongi write some random I didn’t even dare reading. I could easily read them since he wasn’t covering it with anything, but I’m that person who would not want to stick her nose into someone’s work unless told to do so. Who knows, people reading whatever he’s writing could be his pet peeve, and I guess I’m annoying enough so I might have to avoid triggering his temper.

“Here’s your black coffee.” I looked up at Kihyun as he leaned down, placing the iced drink on the table. When he stood straight he gazed at me for a second before shifting his gaze to the guy in front of me. He spoke, “Is she bothering you?”

I sneered at the coffee boy. Kihyun witnessed everything that has happened between me and Yoongi, so I thought he’s supposed to understand why I was sitting there.

I thought Yoongi would nod and just ask me to leave him alone but then he answered, “No”, without even looking away from his notes.

I continued eating quietly as I watched Kihyun leave us. Yoongi and I didn’t talk for a few more minutes. He was too busy thinking and putting his deep thoughts into words, while I was contemplating on how I should start a conversation about my song and his mixtape.

After a few bites of fried eggs, and words scratched on a piece of sheet, he dropped his pen and closed his notebook. He leaned on the table with both of his arms supporting some of his weight, trying to find himself a comfortable position. He watched me as he tapped his fingers on the table for a few seconds.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say anything,” he finally spoke, raising his right hand and letting his right cheek rest on it.

“Hi,” I replied, my mouth still full of rice and eggs.

“What do you want?”

I placed my chopstick down and swallowed the food in my mouth. “Okay,” I lifted my index finger up, a habit whenever I’m about to start a point. “You said you’d call me and it’s been like two weeks. And you didn’t even show up in this shop, I was so worried that you lied to me.”

“You’re not my girlfriend.” He scoffed. For a moment there, I thought I did sound like a clingy girlfriend.

“No, no,” I rolled my eyes. “This is about my song, okay? You know that my song, being in your mixtape, could be the biggest break for me. And you know, as an artist, whenever opportunities come into me, I’d take it no matter what and always hope for the best.”

He laughed, and it felt like he was mocking me. He didn’t say anything though, he just laughed.

“This is not funny.” I sighed. “I just thought that I could finally prove people wrong, you know. They keep on saying that I’ll never make it.” I groaned, burying my face on my palms, and realizing how much of a failure I am. “Goddamn it,” I whispered to myself.

He stopped laughing as he watched me in my epiphany. He probably thought I was crying, but I was just letting out multiple sighs whenever I try to remember the things I said to my parents. He coughed as he stiffly adjusted his seat.

“Hey, Ah Reum,” he called me so I could stop my drama and give my attention to him. He pursed his lips and said, “I wasn’t lying.”

My frown turned into a smile real quick. I didn’t really consider that he was lying, to be honest. It didn’t cross my mind, like even when I was doing the drama crap in front of him, I knew he truly liked my song. What I wanted was to make sure that he’d really put my song in his mixtape. It wasn’t an act though, I really had an epiphany on how ty my life turned out to be, I just exaggerated my feelings so he could somehow see why I needed the opportunity so bad.

His phone dinged and quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket. “When do you get off work?” He asked as he read the message on his phone.

“Um, 10,” I answered. “Why?”

“I’ll pick you up at 10,” he said. He pushed himself up from his seat, picked his pen and notebook up from the table, and placed it inside the duffle bag I didn’t notice was sitting beside him all along.

“What? Where are we going?”

“My studio,” he said as he placed his hand in his pocket. I looked up at him as he towered over me. He dialed a number on his phone and placed it on his ear, waiting for someone to pick up.

“Why?”

“I don’t know… I gotta go,” he answered as he walked out. I heard him say, “Hello, PD-nim,” while I watch him push the door and get out of the coffee place.

And just like that, I continued eating my lunch with my eyes on the untouched coffee he left.