Secret Love Song

You & Namjoon

 

“Another Martini, please.” I asked the bartender, my eyes not leaving him once.

           When yet another woman caressed his arm, I bit my lip so hard that only the taste of blood prompted me to release. “Why can’t we be like that?” I said to myself, wiping a stray tear off and drinking the martini like a shot. “Another one.” I demanded and Eun-woo gave me a concerned look, but complied.

***

            I walked out of the building and the chilly, autumn air caressed my face. November was just around the corner and along with it came the two years anniversary of the day I packed my bags and got on a plane to Seoul, leaving my hometown behind. It was my dream to travel the world while teaching English, but had someone told me that only one year in I’d get to work for Bighit Entertainment, I would have scoffed a “yeah sure” and called it a day. Yet there I was, staring at the humongous glass building, about to go in for another lesson, far from the small language school that I had started in.

“Good morning,” I greeted, picking up my badge from the security guard who responded with a kind smile, as always.

I scanned it quickly and opened the gate when the green light lit up and I heard the familiar beep granting me access. I draped the piece of plastic proudly around my neck – it was company policy that our badges had to always be on display - then I glanced at my watch to notice that I was about to be late for my first lesson with a new group of students. When I saw the elevator doors closing, I decided to make a run for it and despite stumbling on my high heels right in front of the doors and looking stupid, I had made it just in time to slide my arm in… which counted as a victory in my book.

I smiled and rearranged my hair as I got on, and noticed the button for my floor was already lit up. So, I shuffled over to the side and slowly made my way to the back as people kept getting off, until I was one of the only people left.

“Oh my God!” I somehow managed to scream internally when I glanced over casually and my eyes fell on Kim Namjoon. “Stop staring, stop staring,” had to have turned into my daily affirmation, because I kept repeating it a million times an hour while my eyes – the size of pots – kept glancing over at him.

            When the elevator came to a halt, he waited for me to get off first, then followed. Naturally, knowing that he could have been looking at my back, I tried to sit as straight as possible and stick my out, which caused me to lose my balance and do the little “new-born baby calf” dance… you know, the one where you’re about to break your ankles in your high heels, but you’ll be damned if you’d let yourself go down that easily, so you just stand there, wobbling like one of those car dealership inflatable men until you either regain balance of fall down for good.

            Before I got to find out which one it would be that day, I felt a strong hand grab my arm and pull me back on my feet.

“Are you ok?” I’d lie if I said I didn’t scream inside when I heard that y voice so close to my ear. I didn’t even dare turn around – mostly because I was too embarrassed, but also because I had rarely been in the presence of such iness up close and had no idea how my body would react to that, physically. Anyways, pretty sure something like the female version of a .

“Ah, yes, thank you,” I replied a bit way too casually, “had I known walking in high heels would be one of my job requirements, I would have taken my teenage years more seriously.” He laughed slightly in response and I took a deep, meditative breath. “Breathe and believe. Heels can smell fear.” I told myself out loud, put on a stern face and pointed forward with my arm, as if to show my brain the direction, that time actually focused on walking properly rather than the look of my .

***

            Well, something I had done worked, because the hot mess that was chugging Martinis at the bar was officially – though not publicly – his girlfriend. I closed my eyes for a second and despite the room spinning slowly, I remembered the first day he’d come into my class. He had walked in halfway through my lesson and I told him that if he was there to steal my job, he had to at least be punctual.

“Joke aside, if you would like to attend my class, you will have to join at the same time as the others.” Jimin and Yoongi nudged each other and giggled at their leader getting scolded, but one look was enough to remind them that they were in my class. Everything went quiet for a moment and I would later find out that Namjoon was there to witness the person who managed to not only keep the members of BTS quiet, but also get them interested in learning English. He was tired of hearing about it at practice and had to see it for himself. He’d been trying to teach them for years, yet there they were, all staring at the Smart Board as if hypnotized.

“When you finally cracked and smiled after that, I understood immediately… because I was under your spell too.” He told me when he asked me on our first date. It took him a few months of dating to admit that it had been the thing that did the trick – it might have been to finally get me to shut up about it, but I take the validation that I can get.

            We had our first date in one of the meeting rooms at the firm... and lots of the others after that. He’d gotten us coffees and some macaroons and the fact that we could never go public with it was one of the first things he ever said. But when Namjoon looks at you – and I mean really looks at you – you simply can’t imagine what that is actually going to feel like long-term… He could have asked me to give him one of my kidneys and I would have said yes, basically for the same reason: that damn look in his eyes and the fact that I wouldn’t have been able to tell how that would affect me long-term.

“At least I didn’t give him one of my kidneys.” I thought to myself, sniffling and sipping slowly on my new drink. When he looked at me from the corner of his eye, I frowned and turned around on my bar stool.

“Rough night?” The Eun-woo asked compassionately and I began ugly-crying.

“I don’t understand why I can’t tell you. You’d think I’m crazy anyways.” I replied in-between sobs.

“Fair enough. I have no idea what you’re talking about and I already do think that.” He laughed and I did too. When I raised my hand, he pinned it back down on the bar and patted it gently. “You should go dance a little before I get you anything else. Sweat a few of these off,” he added, pointing to all the empty Martini glasses that he had purposely left empty in front of me to prove that I had a drinking problem.

“Ok, but can I have the usual before I go?” I asked and he nodded, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I almost fell off my stool when I turned around and met Namjoon, who gave me a disapproving look and despite the less-than-friendly glare, my heart still skipped a beat. I wanted to be in his presence so bad, that I would have taken anything. I gave him a questioning look in return, but proceeded to make my way towards the dance floor before our interaction was long enough to be noticed. His hand reached for me instinctively, trying to grab my arm, but he caught himself in time so instead he just turned to the bar.

            Being a foreign woman in a Korean club was sure to garner some attention and being a good dancer certainly helped as well. Did you know dancing is proved to relieve stress and anxiety? I began moving my hips slowly, trying to get into a rhythm, but my mind was elsewhere. Despite the equally drunk men trying to get me to dance for them, my eyes never left Namjoon. Some Spanish song was blaring through the speakers and the dancefloor had gotten more animated, so I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away. I really needed another Martini and I knew Eun-woo well enough to know that I wouldn’t get it unless I got a bit of a workout before – plus as long as my eyes were opened, they’d keep wandering back to him and it was starting to get creepy.

            I’d joined a group of girls that were dancing together, hoping their energy was contagious and they welcomed me with open arms, cheering and hyping me up, making me want to do the same for them. It wasn’t long before a group of guys approached them – I say them because I was there for one person only – and we mingled, constantly and randomly exchanging partners. I remember turning around at some point, to see this handsome Korean guy looking down at me with this flirty spark in his eyes as This is what you came for by Rihanna played in the background and a wave of loneliness washed over me. I let him get closer than I normally would have and touched his body, not in any ual way, just to feel like I wasn’t all alone.

            When you want someone bad enough and their heart is on the table, you’re bound to agree to anything just to get a chance. Neither of us had expected this thing to get so serious, so having to keep it private never sounded that bad. We were both pretty private people anyways, but having other women assume that he was single and out there for them to grab while I had to stay away, was painful. In our one year together, we had never held hands in public, we’d never walked alone in the streets and never kissed or hugged outside of our apartments.

“Anything can spark a rumor.” His manager had warned me a few months in.

            Starting out, the honeymoon phase washes over all of it and you think it would never matter as long as you know they’re yours, but to belong to someone so deeply and to be so overwhelmingly in love without being able to tell anyone was torture. Suddenly, I couldn’t see a future with him anymore and the thought crushed me to pieces. The initial excitement of sneaking out to meet, turned into anxiety; I always felt like a criminal walking into his building, heart in my throat, afraid that someone would see me and know what I was doing as if I was there disposing of a body, not to have my boyfriend hold me in his arms.

            I was doing my thing, too faded to notice that the guy’s hand was travelling slowly down my back. He leaned down to say something in my ear and was halfway through his sentence when I felt a strong grip on my arm and someone began pulling me away from the dancefloor. I stumbled and almost fell, a sharp pain shooting through my right ankle. I stopped and yanked my arm out of their grip.

“What the ?! Who the are you?” I asked the unfamiliar man that was giving me a stern look – kind of like an overprotective father.

“Please follow me, miss.” He answered as if he hadn’t just tried to drag me out of the club like a rag doll.

“Like hell I will,” I snarled and turned around, trying to make my way back to the dancefloor.

“Miss, please come quietly…” He tried one more time, but seeing as I was not cooperating, he simply picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, taking me towards the exit kicking and screaming. He stopped on a hallway that seemed to be an emergency exit and plopped me down. The second I felt my feet touch the ground, I slapped him. “Miss,” he began with a frown on his face, “please go up these stairs,” he added handing me a piece of paper.

 

Meet me upstairs

RM

 

            My eyes filled with tears as soon as I saw his signature and I made my way up the stairs cautiously, my ankle still hurting. The steps led to the rooftop and once I opened the metal door, the cold, late-fall air clashed with my burning cheeks. At first it felt refreshing, but when I stepped outside, each drop of sweat on my body began sending shivers down my spine. He turned suddenly, once the door closed behind me with a loud metallic noise.

             Seeing him felt like looking in some kind of strange mirror, as we were both frowning. The second our eyes met, I stomped furiously his way and shoved him.

“What is going on with you?” He raised his voice and my brows furrowed deeper.

“With me?” I replied through gritted teeth, anger as obvious as the alcohol in my breath. “I’m a human being, Namjoon! You can’t have people pick me up and throw me around to wherever pleases you.” I yelled, shoving him again.

“Why do you act like that?” He spoke sternly, no emotion in his voice.

“Like what?!” I exclaimed desperately.

“Like you’re single! Is it to make me jealous?” He screamed back making me shake furiously.

“What about all the women that always gravitate around you, touching you more than I am ever allowed to?!” I snapped back, making his frown turn into a surprised, compassionate look as if he’d just realized that we were both feeling the same thing.

“You know you’re the only woman I see…” He whispered caressing my face.

“Then why can’t you hold me in the streets? Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor?” I yelled suddenly, jerking my face out of his reach.

“I wish that it could be like that…” He whispered softly, walking closer to me, but I stepped back.

“Why can’t we be like that? ‘Cause I’m yours…” I sobbed loudly, feeling hot tears stream down my face. I wiped them off like a child, smearing my make-up.

“I know you are.” He answered heavily, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. “You think I don’t want to say that I’m in love…? I want to shout it from the rooftops. Every time an interviewer asks about my type, I want to pull out your photo and show it to them, but I can’t.”

            I closed my eyes tightly and breathed in his scent, my arms limp on either side of my body and I knew by the way my heart clenched...

“I can’t do this anymore.” I sobbed quietly, barely able to articulate the last words I imagined ever telling him. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

“No-no.” He replied almost instantly. “You can’t do that.”

“This. I can’t do this.” I whimpered as if pleading with him to let me go while trying to hold back my sobs became increasingly painful.

“Please… you’re drunk.” He breathed heavily, tightening his grip. I could tell he was crying as well by the shaking in his voice.

“Not drunk enough…” I reiterated; my hands placed against his chest. “Don’t I deserve to find happiness, Namjoon?”

“Aren’t you happy with me?” He looked lost.

“Don’t you get it?” I sniffled against his chest, every piece of my body trying to stop me from doing it. “The only thing I want is the one thing you can’t give me… you.” I could feel his hold on me loosen as the realization hit him... as if he’d never noticed how hard it had been for me.

In his world, putting on a front came naturally. I lifted my hands and placed them on his wet cheeks.

“Every time I see you, I die a little inside, because I have to kill the urge to run into your arms, to kiss you, to simply feel that you are mine. Babe, I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like all I’m ever doing is wait for you… wait for you and worry.” Speaking had never been more painful, because despite my biggest efforts, I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. When the sharp pain began growing in my right temple, I knew I was going to have the worst migraine of my life, my defense mechanisms working at full speed.

            He didn’t speak. We just looked at each other, while I sobbed and he cried quietly, the lights of the city sparkling in his eyes, making his dark gaze look like a sky full of stars. Deep down, we both knew this day would come sooner or later. It was just a matter of timing.

“I’m selfish like that, Namjoon.” I closed my eyes and sighed deeply.

“I love you,” He whispered softly, leaning down to kiss my lips. I reciprocated.

“I love you, too, but love isn’t supposed to feel like a crime.” I wiped my tears sloppily and caressed his chest, this his face before I placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Can I still see you?” He questioned, a slight trace of hope in his voice. I wanted to tell him that we could count on our fingers the times we’d seen each other while dating, but hurting him wouldn’t have made me feel any better.

“I might leave Korea.” I said instead. It was then that any trace of hope disappeared off his face and I hadn’t realized that deep down he was still hoping we could fix it. “I’ve long overstayed my welcome. You’re the only thing that’s kept me here.”

“Please… let me try to speak to the manager. Maybe we can-”

“I won’t get in the way of your career, Namjoon.” I spoke looking at him the way he looked at his bandmates whenever they were acting foolishly. “You are too much shine to keep for myself. The whole world needs to see you.”

“You are my world.” He argued, but I smiled sadly in response.

“I know it feels that way right now, but I am merely a planet in your galaxy. You- you are your own world and, in a galaxy, stars die all the time, yet the Universe doesn’t stop expanding.” I kissed him gently. “I’ll miss you too, but you’ll be fine without me and I’m used to missing you.”

“I’m sorry.” He bit his lip and I wiped his tears away.

“I’m sorry nobody will ever know I used to date ing Kim Namjoon.” We both laughed in-between tears, looking like a couple of idiots. Jokes were my coping mechanism. “And how he couldn’t resist this hot piece of .”

“So ing hot,” He groaned in response, biting his lip and we both laughed.

“I really love you.” He looked into my eyes and kissed the top of my head. “I wish this could have been different.”

            There we were, staring at each other, eyes filled with love and tears. In the end I had been the brave one.

“Can I come looking for you when I retire?” He asked and I laughed loudly in response.

“As if-” I paused for a second… “As if I’m as popular with men as you think I am. Sure thing, I’ll definitely still be single.”

“With that ?” He laughed. “You know, you still have some things to pick up from my house… wanna come over and, maybe, have some break-up ?” He added casually making me smirk.

“I mean, I have to…” He mirrored my devilish look. “But you know how forgetful I am, so I already get the feeling that I’ll forget to get something.”

“You’re only human.” He leaned down to kiss me and I bit his lip slightly.

“You go first.”