It’s still hard to believe even though your ever so realistic mind simply cannot deny what’s in front of you. After all, how could you dream of a place so noisy that it literally and completely drives you insane? It must be reality. You are here, at Gwangju, clinging to the last pieces of your sanity.

When you sent your application for the 18th FINA World Aquatics Championships, you didn’t think that being a volunteer would be this burdensome nor that you, your little sister and friend would be seperated for the whole evening. Yet, things cannot always go your way, can they? You learned this ages and multiple group projects ago.

You stand in the middle of the crowd, listening to the noises of hundreds and  thousands of people, while you look down to your wrist and the elegant watch on it. You have ten minutes before the opening ceremony starts which means that you have exactly five minutes to put yourself together. If only, your always so talkative friend would be here! You still don’t understand how could they possibly give you the role of the main assistant in the backstage when you are more likely to sit behind a computer person than being so energetic.

Could everyone just stop talking so loudly? Please?

You take a deep breath and shake your head. There must be a sanctuary somewhere in this huge building full of people, hidden, waiting for you to find it. All you need is five minutes, so that you could actually hear your own thoughts. Humming and thinking, you put your index finger onto your lips and let those cogs slowly turn in your head. How can you not think about it sooner? A sip of fruit juice could fix everything just like yesterday or the day before.

With a concrete destination in your mind, you elbow yourself through the mass and turn to left before you disappear behind a double door made of shining metal. As your feet touch the deep brown parquetry, it feels like heaven. Everything is so quiet that you can hear your own heart, pumping like crazy in your ribcage. It’s so pleasant that you make a mistake and shut out reality, walking with your eyes completely closed. It only takes four tiny steps and your safe place breaks into pieces because of a crash that pulls the floor out of your legs.

You sit on your , watching your papers glide away in dozens of different directions, every damn point of the compass. Scraping your nape, you swallow a nasty swear because your parents taught you well enough to know that a lady would never ever use words that could come out of a truck driver's mouth.

Your hands reach out to the closest sheets while you form a quick apology in English, the language you are the most comfortable with. Although, you’re quite good at French, Italian and Korean, too. Not to mention your native language that becomes closer to your heart with every single day you spend here, in South-Korea.

’Sorry. My bad. It’s a bit hectic out there, so I tried to steal five minutes for myself. And I’m…’ Collecting your papers, your careless hand crashes into the stranger’s fingers that are long and delicate, craving for a piano to play on – at least, that’s how you would describe them in a tale based on your fated encounter.

As you lift your head up, sweeping a naughty mop of hair behind your ear, you look at the boy in disbelief, amused by the sight in front of you. You recognize him within a single heartbeat that your selfish heart steals from you, skipping on purpose. ’Talking too much once again. Mianhae,’ you say in half-english, half-korean. You want him to feel at ease, therefore it really doesn’t matter anymore that your pronunciation is far from perfect or that you still feel unsure when it comes to informal and formal conjugations. You put him first with a chaste smile on your face.

’It’s okay. Actually, it’s the same for me, too,’ he says, making your embarrassament melt away a little.

Meanwhile, all you can think about is Jungkook and his warm voice that is so silky and sweet, your system totally forgets to function. And the way he smiles at you with his teeth all showing up! Isn’t it illegal? Your emotions must be reflected on your face quite vividly since looking at you obviously makes the other nervous. ’I tried to steal myself five minutes before we would go on stage,’ he explains, embarrassed.

’Well, then… do you want to drink something?’ you ask, pointing at the white vending machine full of tasty juices. You found it on your first day when you accidentally mistook the direction and turned left instead of right. A sip of the orange flavoured one made you feel at ease within a blink of an eye. Just as it did yesterday when you didn’t find your extra busy superior for an hour that felt like eternity. ’It always helps me to calm down.’

’Sure,’ the boy with the cutest smile whispers quietly.

You walk towards the human-sized machine and halt as your empty hand sinks into your pocket. Searching for your money, your gaze runs through the selection and settles on a red plastic bottle with a smiling cherry on the package. It looks just as adorable as the boy standing behind you, therefore you do not hesitate. As your slim fingers touch the banknotes in your jeans, you pull them out and put them in the automat. The loud knock of the drinks’ fall echoes in the abandoned corridor.

After you give the first plastic bottle to Jungkook, you bend down and get the second one out of the machine. It feels cold under your fingers although your skin dresses into goosebumps for a completely different reason. It’s the silence that embraces your figures, standing close to each other. You both lean against the faint yellow wall, facing with the one on the opposite side of the corridor, lost in your minds deeply. You think about him while he thinks about you and how calm you are. It almost feels like home, being close to you.

’You know me, right?’ he asks in English with a cute, Korean accent that flutters your already weak heart. His question leaves you in awe with mouth slightly open, therefore it takes you a minute or two to gather up the pieces that lay scattered in your mind. Of course, you knew that Namjoon isn’t the only one who speaks English among the boys yet the maknae’s thoughtfulness kinda catches you off guard.

’Of course. Everyone knows you.’ The smile on your face is nostalgic as you walk down the memory lane, thinking of those times when Bangtan wasn’t as popular as these days. The first time you saw them on your screen and how strange they looked like with their heavy makeup and odd clothes singing and dancing oh so passionately. The cheerful afternoons, you and your sisters spent in front of your laptop, watching the newest BTS Run episodes. All those weekends when you practiced one of their choreographies. ’But it doesn’t mean I know the real you, the boy behind the fame, your true characteristics,’ you say with a faint smile playing on your lips. You take a gulp, and then two, three as you recall the stories that you wrote about him during the last few years. He was always a little different in every plot, a little unique and unpredictable. ’So, on the other hand, maybe I don’t know you at all.’

Playing with the edge of your bottle, you your lower lip in panic. The silence that follows your words are too long and your brain simply cannot decipher what the problem is. Is your English that bad? Did you speak a little bit too fast? Were your words too complex to understand? Should you try and change the language to Korean? Wouldn’t it be much more embarrassing?

Fighting with your own mind, you don’t even realize how tense your muscles are until Jungkook's soft voice brings you back to reality, once again, chasing your uneasiness away.

’Fair enough,’ he says with a firm nod, his gaze focusing on nothing but the faint yellow wall in front of you. You really don’t know what to say hence you decide to enjoy your drink and the quietness that hugs your soul and brushes aside the madness that almost took control over your mind. It feels nice, hearing your own heartbeats.

With a faint sigh, you close your eyes, trying to hold onto every single second you spend with the boy whose smile always melts your heart, who always makes you weak, who always cheers you up at the end of the day. You want to keep this memory forever and even after.

’Then, you don’t want my autograph, do you?’ a soft voice asks and the boy’s arm fondles your shoulder as he turns towards you, pulling you back to reality. He looks at you, confused, as if he couldn’t decide what kind of alien you are. Girls usually scream and shout around him, crying from his presence. He doesn’t understand you nor your calm actions that make it extremely easy to talk with you. Most times, he is pathetic with girls, not to mention the beautiful ones just like you.

’No. I do respect your stolen five minutes,’ you answer easily, sipping your cherry juice with low-key satisfaction. Although you mean every single word you said, you feel sad when your friend’s face pops up in your mind. She and your little sister would be over the moon if you could get them an autograph. You bite your lower lip and brush aside the urge to dance back on your statement. You are sure that they will be fine with your experience report next to a mug of hot chocolate, anyway.

’And what about my number?’ he asks with his dark brows knitted to each other. He looks at you with starry eyes full of unreadable emotions you cannot quite deal with. The shy way his rosy lips twitch clouds your judgement and suddenly you lose the track of your conversation. Why does he talk about his phone number anyway? You thought that Korean people prefer kkt over simple text messages. Did he mention it because of your European features and horrible Korean accent? Did he ask for your number this awkwardly? Or does he want to know how fanatic you can be when he gives the opportunity?

’Is this a tricky question?’ you ask and this time it’s your turn, your brows are the ones that are knitted to each other, making the singer smile. He scrapes his nape, lowering his head, then clears his throat, forming the first phrases that come to his mind.

’No. I would like to talk with you after this whole thing is over,’ he admits, playing with the plastic bottle in the very same way you did when you were unsure of your words.  

’You mean, the championships?’ you ask lightly, giving your best shot not to put any weight or pressure onto his manly shoulders.

’I mean, the concert.’

Jungkook’s bunny smile takes your breath away and you melt under his insecure gaze that loiters over your whole body before it sticks onto your eyes as dark as the finest hot chocolate. It reminds him of his favourite place near to the shore of the Sea of Japan, the coffee shop where he could spend a whole afternoon without getting bored of the sweets and the sight of the crowded beach.

You almost open your mouth to say something silly - like you do have a kkt account - when the metal door swings open and shatters the safe place you’ve created. You both turn towards the newcomer and your jaw drops to the ground as you recognize the singer. Jin, with his chestnut hair and elegant outfit, looks like a model from the Vogue’s newest cover and you feel sad that you cannot share this moment with your little sister who would be head over heels because of the man’s presence.

As if you were invisible or you had the power of being completely transparent, Jin grabs the younger arm without a single glance dedicated to you. He talks to Jungkook in Korean, faster than a local train, hence the only word you understand is being late that hits you right in the face. You look down at your watch, with your heart beating like crazy. You have three minutes before the opening ceremony starts.

While Jungkook and Jin are talking, you chew your lips indistinctly. Should you walk out of the corridor without saying goodbye? Should you interrupt? You really, really don’t want to be a burden.

As if they could read your mind, they both turn towards you before Jungkook pats the elder’s shoulder and pulls out a pen from the top of your folders. Lost in his mind, he looks at the papers you hold, then changes his original plan and bend over your empty hand, lifting it up with utter care. His thumb fondles the thin skin under your watch before he marks your wrist with his number and the beautiful characters of his name.

’Thanks for the drink,’ he mumbles under his nose while he puts the pen back on the top of your papers.

Your voice sounds raspy as you force your mind to make a coherent answer.

’Anytime.’

He turns his back on you with a bright smile and you watch him leave with the same expression that settles onto your face. Happiness blooms in your chest as he slows down his steps and halts in front of the exit just to take a last look at you, standing like a complete mess. His low-key wave and that cheeky wink melts you from the inside.

’Next time,’ he lifts his empty plastic bottle up above his head, ’it’s my treat.’

And with that, he accepts his mike from Namjoon who appears on the other side of the threshold, then vanishes behind the metal door that waits for you to go back to your work. Yet, you don’t take a move until one of the other volunteers, a girl from America, finds you and asks for your help.

Fixing the lights, you smile brighter than the Sun or the stars in Jungkook’s mesmerizing eyes.

the end.