I've known J-hope for years. We first met back in high school during our junior year. He came to my school for the foreign exchange program; he was there for about two years, I think, but back then he was known as Jung Hoseok, or to me, Hobi. 

I was the shy, quiet, artsy girl who kept to herself— cliché I know. And he was the loud ball of energy who got along with just about everyone. At first, I didn't think much of him and just kept to myself, as I usually did, but then I ended up being assigned as his English tutor. After that we became inseparable.  

His host family lived a block or two down the street from my house, so I saw him quite a bit. We would walk to and from school together, and hangout at each other's houses goofing off or doing homework. Not. 

I came from a recently broken family, my mother passed away the summer before. Ever since then my dad had been extremely hard on me over just about everything: work, chores, school, especially school. It seemed like all we did was fight. I had terrible depression, and the arguments that I had with him didn't help much. After my mom died, I died too. I withdrew from my family and friends and became a loner. 

Hoseok saved me. He was always there for me; whenever I needed him, even for the simplest of reasons, he'd be there in an instant. If I had to, I'd go over to his house and stay with him for a little, or sometimes he'd climb the tree near my window and sneak into my room and to stay with me all night just to keep me company. The next morning there would be no Hoseok, but there would be a note by my bed with one of his lame jokes or a little positive message to help put a smile on my face and to start off my day with a bit of happiness. 

He was my best friend, and I was his. And the more time we spent together, the more I realized that I was falling in love with him. He was my happiness. He was my hope.

After graduation, Hoseok went back to South Korea. We stayed in touch throughout the years, and we've visited each other every once in a while, but whenever we left it felt like a part of me was taken away. Now I'm in college, majoring in Fine Arts, and Hoseok became a trainee at BigHit Ent. He even debuted as an idol with a group called Bangtan Boys or BTS, as J-hope. What a perfect name. 

It was hard keeping in contact with him, after his debut, because of his crazy schedule, but we did whatever we could. I went to BTS concerts, whenever the group came to America, and throughout the years I got to know the members— it's incredible how talented they are— they're all really nice and cool, and can be just as big of goofballs as Hoseok is. It didn't take very long for them to accept me as a little sister, or to find out how I felt about Hoseok.

Crap.

They're always teasing the bahjeebers out of me; coming up with stupid ideas trying to put me and Hoseok in awkward situations, or trying to get me to confess. It's so annoying. Lucky for me, the little ball of sunshine is pretty darn clueless. 

I just can't do it. He's an idol. Hoseok can't go out with someone like me— he has to focus on his career— he would never. Who's ever heard of an idol dating a fan— let alone a foreign fan? That only happens in k-dramas or cheesy romance movies. 

Besides, if I ever confessed to him and he rejected me, our friendship would be ruined. I can't do it. I'd rather be forever in misery than lose our friendship— than lose him in my life.

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