Ewon

Present day

"Get back in here, guys!" Seokjin called from the living room "Ewon, your boy's about to get his award!"

I rolled my eyes and headed back in. My boy. Yeah, I wished. But with my freshly topped-off wine, I followed everyone from the kitchen, and dropped onto the sofa between Seokjin and Hoseok. It was our annual Filmmaker Association Awards gathering-jeans, T-shirts, and so much wine-and this was the award we'd all been chomping at the bit for tonight. Or at least I had.

Onscreen, some actress I didn't recognize was at the podium in the middle of the stage wearing some godawful thing that made me think she'd skinned a giraffe, and she was reading off the nominees.

"Think he'll win?" Seokjin whispered.

"He better." I said into my wineglass "Did you see this film?" 

Seokjin snorted and gave my arm a playful smack "Girl, you know I saw it. But that doesn't mean the stuffy old white guys who vote for this stuff appreciated it like we did."

"If he doesn't win..." Jisoo said from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor "...then these awards are meaningless."

"Pretty sure they are meaningless." Hoseok said "But let's hope they do right by Ewon's boy."

I rolled my eyes again. Sometimes I wondered if it had been a mistake to let my group of friends know what a shameless crush I had on Kim Taehyung. If it was, it couldn't top my biggest mistake: being brave enough to ask for his autograph, but too much of a chicken to ask for his number back when he'd been a waiter. He'd been out of my league back then, but now? I couldn't even see his league anymore.

Except, well, from my best friend's sofa while we watched movie stars in overpriced clothing lavish each other with awards.

On the screen, the actress had finished naming off the nominees "And the Filmmaker Association Award goes to..." she paused for effect as she opened the envelope.

In Seokjin's living room, my friends and I sat on the edges of our seats, wineglasses in hand, and held our breath.

She pulled the card out, and finally said "Kim Taehyung in Haystack!" 

We were all on our feet so fast it was a wonder nobody's glass went tumbling. We high-fived and cheered as if we'd actually been involved in the movie or in Taehyung's amazing performance. It was ridiculous, but it was fun, so who cared?

It was about time too. Taehyung had been passed over by the Filmmaker Association two years in a row, and it would have been a travesty if they'd snubbed him again this time.

On the other hand, I'd probably never hear the end of it. After all, his fame and my crush had been a running joke ever since I'd told my friends about the time we'd met. They hadn't believed me until I'd shown them the autograph in my notebook. At least they'd finally stopped ribbing me about that damned thing. Now if they'd stop ribbing me about how just seeing him on the screen made me swoon, I'd be good, but I wasn't banking on that. Especially not now that he was walking up to the stage in a tailored black tux, smiling so big he could've lit up the whole auditorium.

He accepted the award and hugged the actress. Then she stepped aside, and he took his place at the podium.

My God, he'd grown up since the first time I saw him. The tux was a far cry from the diner uniform he'd been wearing, and it hugged his body like a dream. He'd filled out in the last few years, looking less gaunt and so beautifully fit. Shame the tux covered up that six-pack. For the last couple of years, he'd sported a y mature image and that y smirk that made his full lips look amazingly y. His semi tanned skin accompanied those brown hair? , he was hot.

Why didn't I get your number in the diner that day?

Oblivious to me ogling him through the TV, Taehyung smiled at the crowd "Wow I'm...this is amazing. And, um, I've got a lot of people to thank, but I swore a long time ago I'd dedicate my first award to someone who probably doesn't remember me. I was a waiter, and not a very good one, and I wasn't getting anywhere with acting. I had an audition that afternoon, but I wasn't going to go. I was ready to pack it in, go back to Missouri, and move on. I had my two weeks' notice in my back pocket and everything." he paused for a breath "But even after I let your coffee get low, and after I brought you hash browns when you asked for home fries, and kept screwing up your order, you were still nice to me. Anyone else would have been asking my manager to give them a discount, but not you." he laughed softly "You even tipped me."

Everyone in Seokjin's living room was very, very still.

"Oh my God." Hoseok whispered beside me "Is he talking about-"

"Yes." I hissed "Shh."

Onscreen, Taehyung continued "You tipped me. You smiled at me. And before you left..." he paused when his voice started to get shaky "Before you left, you asked for my autograph. You said you knew a lot of waiters in LA were trying to break into Hollywood, and there was no telling who might make it big." his voice wavered again, and he put a hand to his lips as he cleared his throat.

When he continued, the words were still trembling "You told me it could be me. It probably didn't seem like anything to you, but that little conversation, and the chance to sign that notebook you were carrying around, was what I needed to get my to that audition that afternoon." he looked right at the camera, smiling broadly "I got the part. And after that, I got other parts. And now, five years after you gave me that little boost..." he held up his trophy, and I swore he really was looking right at me "I never even knew your name, but I hope you're watching because I'm dedicating this to you."

The audience on the screen went wild, standing up and applauding as music played him off the stage.

Here in the living room, everyone was silent. Jaws slack. Eyes wide. Silent.

One by one, heads turned to me.

I was the first to speak "Did...did that just happen?"

Everyone nodded mutely.

I swallowed "Holy..."

"That..." Seokjin blew out a breath "That was unreal. Un-ing-real." 

"Tell me about it." I wiped a hand over my face, and realized it was shaking. I was shaking all over, actually. The surge of adrenaline and God knew what else had me so jittery, I couldn't sit still. Without a word, I got up and headed into the kitchen with my still full wineglass. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, only that I needed to move before this sudden nervous energy got out of control.

My friends hung back, which was kind of surprising. I fully expected them to trail after me and fire off questions, but they didn't. Maybe they knew that I'd been shocked by the speech. That it was overwhelming. Maybe they were giving me some breathing room, and thank Christ for that. Maybe it was just because they knew damn well I couldn't cope with spotlights, and I felt about a million of them pointed at me right then.

In the kitchen, I set my glass down before I dropped it, and pressed my palms onto the counter. Eyes closed, I breathed in and out slowly. I couldn't process it yet. I tried not to think about how many people had seen that, or how many might be talking about it. For all I knew, they'd forgotten it as quickly as I'd forgotten all the other acceptance speeches tonight, but I was somehow certain everyone and their mother was talking about it. About me.

In his speech, Taehyung said he doubted I'd remember meeting him, but I remembered. I'd replayed it a thousand times in my mind. I remembered the first time I ever saw him in a movie and nearly fell out of my seat because I'd have recognized that beautiful face anywhere. I remembered coming home afterward and opening my notebook to that page. I hadn't been at all surprised when his name matched the one in the credits.

I just hadn't imagined that he'd remembered. I wondered if he had any idea how much I'd had to psych myself up to ask him for his autograph. I'd done it a few times before-I hadn't been lying about getting autographs from waiters who might be up and coming-but the prospect of asking someone had never intimidated me like it had with him. Even while he'd been flustered and frustrated with his job, even while he'd been so obviously down and depressed, there'd been...a light in him. Some dormant charisma. There'd been no way of knowing if he was an actor, or if he'd aspired to be, but I'd known right then that he could command my full attention anytime he wanted to. This was someone brave enough to not only stand in the limelight, but bask in it, and even now I envied him as much as I wanted him.

In the years since, I'd sometimes wondered if he'd thought I was creepy or ridiculous for asking him to sign my book. Or if he'd thought I was just being patronizing when I'd said "It could be you." I'd meant every word, though.

Knowing my encouragement had left an impression? That he'd needed a push that day? My God. What if I hadn't worked up the courage? What if I'd been the shy coward I usually was?

Footsteps on the linoleum brought me back into the present, and I turned to see Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jisoo coming in. Seokjin had an odd smirk on his lips. 

I inclined my head "What?"

"Well, honey." he shoved his iPad into my hands "I think you're about to be famous." my stomach lurched, but before I could say I didn't want to be famous, he tapped a long pink nail on the screen, and a video started.

Outside the awards show venue, a red-headed reporter in a white suit spoke into an oversized microphone "Kim Taehyung's win was no surprise, but his speech has Hollywood and fans alike talking. Who was this mystery man? Does he even know he has the newly-minted Filmmaker Association Award winner's autograph?"

I gulped "Whoa."

Beside me, Jisoo squealed, clapped a hand over , and shoved her phone at me. On it, another reporter was speaking: "I'm hearing from Los Angeles This Morning that they want to find the man who asked for Kim Taehyung's autograph, and if the autograph can be verified, they're willing to fly him out to be on the show with Taehyung himself."

My jaw fell open "What?"

Another reporter appeared "We caught up with Taehyung backstage to find out more about how that autograph might be tracked down."

The screen shifted to Taehyung, still grinning from ear to ear in his tux with a microphone in his face "If he's got the real autograph" -he shrugged innocently, then winked not-so-innocently at the camera- "he'll know what the inscription says."

I could feel my friends' stares like burning spotlights. My heart pounded. I still hadn't gotten my head around all of this, and now people wanted to fly me to LA to see Taehyung? In person? On TV? What the hell?

Hoseok whistled "You might wanna check Twitter, babe."

My mouth went dry as I took out my phone and opened the Twitter app. #WhoseBookDidTaehyungSign was already trending. People were tweeting at Taehyung, posting photos of autographs, and speculating about what the inscription must have said. And because it was social media, there were also people telling him to die, calling him homophobic names, and raging that he didn't deserve the award.

"What are you gonna do?" Seokjin asked.

My first instinct was to say I was going to do absolutely nothing. As much as I wanted to see Taehyung again, he was a package deal now. Lights, camera, Taehyung. And who was to say he wanted to see me for real? Maybe he just wanted to give me that little hat tip, make a tear-jerker of a speech so people would be talking about him, and-

"Ewon." Seokjin touched my shoulder "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

I blinked "Huh?" 

He huffed, rolling his eyes "I know you, sweetheart, and you're trying to talk yourself out of it because it'll mean attention from a lot of people. And because you're the kind of guy who's stunned when someone pings him on Grindr, so you're in denial that that guy..." -he pointed at the iPad- "...might genuinely want to see you."

Well, I had to give the man credit. He definitely knew me "I, um..."

Jisoo inclined her head "You've been kicking yourself for years over not getting his number. Now you have a chance to see him again."

"Yeah." I gulped "On a talk show. On TV. In front of..." I waved a hand because if I actually said a million people there was a good possibility I'd puke.

"So would you rather go on TV and be nervous?" Hoseok asked "Or pass up this opportunity and spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out because I didn't have a damned argument and my friends for knowing exactly how to talk me out of my own stupid doubts.

"I guess...I guess I could tweet at him. It'll probably get lost in the shuffle, but it's worth a try, right?"

"Of course." Seokjin nudged my arm "Go for it!" 

I swallowed hard. Then, fingers a little shaky, I opened a new tweet and typed out, I think it might be me, Taehyung. From your number 1 fan. It wasn't the exact quote, but he'd get the idea. I added the hashtag and mentioned Taehyung's Twitter handle so he might hopefully see it.

Then I held my breath, hit Tweet, and watched in horror as the message sent and joined the masses talking about Taehyung, the autograph, and me. Had I really just said that? That was the best thing I could come up with? A dorky fanboy tweet that was so awkwardly me it was sickening? . No taking it back. I could delete it, but then...then I'd have to come up with something else to say, and-

"Do you think he'll find it?" Jisoo asked "I mean, there's thousands of tweets popping up."

"I don't know." I shrugged as if I didn't care nearly as much as I actually did. As if I wasn't as anxious, embarrassed, or excited as I actually was "I guess we'll find out."