"That was a success, wasn't it?" Namjoon asks with his signature smile. Slightly awkward, slightly endearing.

Jimin smiled back, "Of course, hyung. We gave it our all, right?"

Namjoon's smile seemed to brighten and he nods. They were all resting backstage in their inner shirts now, jackets off to cool themselves down and hand-held fans on one hand, the other wiping off the sweat.

He watched and Namjoon took out his phone and followed suit, deciding to scroll through their personal twitter first. Their mentions were piling up with words like "You did great" and "You worked hard' and all that, but they seemed to whirl past his eyes as fast as they had come. Jimin used to feel bad for not replying to all the tweets or at least appreciating some of them personally, but he realised that at this point of his stage life, getting personal was far more dangerous than not caring. There were, of course, several hate mentions which came and went just as fast. Jimin was ussed ot seeing them at this point. He shouldn't care as much about it as he did about the good mentions, but he couldn't help it. He was human, afterall, and people would usually be more sensitive to hate than perhaps to love and admiration.

Jimin checked the worldwide trends and couldn't stop himself from checking that as well, despite knowing that there was most of the time more hate there than their mentions. After a few minutes of scrolling, he decided to end it with a post. He took a quick selfie and captioned it in his usual fashion.

"Jimin-ah, my turn." Hoseok whispered as he took the seat beside him. Jimin waited for the tweet to go through before logging out.

"Done." He whispered back.

His phone vibrated then, signaling a text message. He figured it was perhaps from his mother and opened it quickly.

Unknown: Jimin, you did great today. I hope you wouldn't doubt yourself on stage and enjoy it just as I did.

His heart stopped. He turned to Hoseok, who was busy taking his own selfies already. He stood and walked out of the room into the hallway, his senses suddenly sensitive as his thumb hovered above the keypad.

Who are you? He sent back. After a while, he sent another question: How did you get my number?

He bit on his lip as he waited for a reply, deciding to lean against the wall.

When the '...' symbol came up, he felt his eyes widen.

No one you know and no one you need to know. Just know that you performed well today.

Thanks, he types for some reason, but how did you get my number?

Jimin waited another minute before realising this was about as much as the number was willing to say. He stared at the white wall across him for a while, trying to figure out if he should feel creeped out, then realising that, no, he wasn't. He felt.. confused. Confused because he realised that she could see his doubts and his own judgement to himself.. but then how? Perhaps Jin had told someone else and was simply messing with him this way? But as much of a jokester as his eldest member was, he would never go that far would he?

He looked at the text again: I hope you wouldn't doubt yourself on stage and enjoy it just as I did.

Suspicious but true.

Driven by something close to desperation, Jimin suddenly felt a small hope. This person, if not a hoax, understood him. He was suddenly no longer just curious of who he/she was, or how the person got his personal number that he changed every few months, but he was now far more curious as to how far this person might understand him. How this person could understand his time on stage better than s perhaps could.

As he made his way to the bathroom, simply because he wasn't sure he could trust himself to face s and hide the text from them, he realized something else. He never considered blocking the number.