“What the are you doing?”  A low, gravelly voice broke you out of your thoughts, someone was standing in front of you, you could see his legs covered in a dark blue denim. You looked up at the man.Like the rest of the world from your comfy park bench he was upside down, his eyes narrowing in on you from where he stood, clearly feeling some sort of negative emotion at the fact that you were sitting on the park bench upside down. He seemed tall and domineering in front of you, but you also knew that he was standing and you were laying upside down… sooooo… he probably wasn’t either of those things in reality.

“I’m getting inspiration. What are you doing?” You shot back, raising your hand above your face and watching the sunlight fight itself to squeeze through your open fingers, hoping that the man would go away because clearly you were busy. Very busy.

“It looks more like your lollygagging to me.” He said and sighed. You watched as the corners of his lips pressed closer to his chin and a shaky breath rippled through his body. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself after that as if all the heat left his body with his sigh.

“Well… at least it looks like you’re smiling to me, grumps.” You laughed, finally sitting up, only to have to sit down again as all the blood rushed from your head. 

Damn gravity, you needed the blood to think.

“Your face is beat red by the way. That was really dumb of you.” He sighed as he sat next to you.

“What’s it to you if I’m a dummy? My job is to entertain, not be smart. I’m Y/N by the way.” You said, watching as some gaggle of guys pranced around the park, a frisbee being thrown every once in a while. It was strange to see so many people in such a small area of Gwangju, but you weren’t complaining. The park needed to be used by more than just you.

“Name’s Yoongi. Coincidentally, my job is also to entertain. What type of entertainment do you do?” When you looked at the man closer. You could tell that he was watching the gaggle of guys too, but with something more akin to a warped knowledge of who they are, a weight… and your mind started to wander. “Hello? Earth to Y/N-sshi. What type of entertainment do you do?” Yoongi spoke louder and as he did so, a rougher, almost squeaky edge came into his voice when he did.

“Oh! I’m sorry. My mind isn’t on a leash so it ran away for a bit. I write.” You looked over at him again, this time at his hands. They were slender, in a way that you almost imagined years of piano or braille stretched hands to be. 

He wasn’t blind though.

“What about you? What form of entertainment do you do?” You kept looking at his hands as you mumbled the question, the want to pick up one of his hands up starting to consume your mind. You wanted to feel what stretched hands felt like, to commit to memory the way they feel with the craziest forms of writing you could muster, to spend hours labeling everything as best you could so that even if someone had never meet this man, they could feel his hands and just know that this was the Min Yoongi. The Min Yoongi who called Y/F/N dumb. You shook your head. 

“What type of writing do you do?” He was talking the whole while, but you’d only came to it then, the fog of wanting to describe his hands clearing as you once again looked at the gaggle of guys.

The frisbee was gone.

“Anything, really. Poetry, songs, short stories, long stories, sad stories, all consuming stories, but I’ve recently been employed as a songwriter.” You looked at one of the boys’ pants. The boy himself was slender and had a nice looking face that was framed by nice brown hair, but his pants were what drew you in. They had palm leaves on them in shades of green that you couldn’t quite describe. Your hands itched to take out your phone and look up all the shades of green you could just to give those pants justice in being described.

Green just wasn’t enough.

Pear?

Jade?

Mold?

Sea?

Seafoam?

Great. Now you want seafood.

You shook your head twice.

“Really? So you don’t sing or rap?” Yoongi once again broke your thoughts, your head snapping back to where he was sitting before looking at the trees behind him in mild curiosity.

“No. I cannot sing to save my life.” You said, a small snort leaving your mouth asyou looked at a flying squirrel fallfrom its perch and landin a heap on the ground, thinking about how easily it could be replayed over and over again if you had brought your damn phone to the park today. 

All you had was a pen and a notebook.

Your notebook was camo green.

Shamrock?

You shook your head. No. The guy’s pants were definitely not shamrock green.

“I much prefer to work the words and beat of a song than be in it vocally. It’s too tiring to be in a vocal track.” You finally looked at him again, “What do you do again?”

This time when Yoongi laughed again, you closed your eyes and tried to think of all the ways you could describe that laugh. It was almost like slightly expired sour cream with little chunks, a nice hint of bad, but overall still… great on seafood. It was a cobalt blue with a tiny mix of neon green. It was calming and dark with a slight edge. 

You shook your head. Then again your eyes were closed. It could be baby blue. 

Columbia blue?

What even causes a place to become a color?

“Maybe sometime we could write songs together?” This question brought you to reality once again. He wrote songs? Maybe his mind was running as much as you. Almost like you both had hamsters in your mind that scurried and squeaked while running on their little treadmills while eating protein powder raw and chugging bottles of water.

How gross.

“Yeah. That’d be cool.” You looked around again, this time watching an ajuma that you’ve known all your life walk by with her son who, apparently, just got back from his military service, “But it’ll be hard because I was hired by a small, Seoul based, company just to write and churn out songs so I’m moving soon.” You trailed off, watching the two go farther into the park than you were at. You wanted to talk to the two for a little before you left. The son was always such a kind face in high school for the two years you overlapped, and the ajuma always gave you food in exchange for the knowledge of whose songs you wrote and produced. 

They were good people.

People you wanted to keep knowing, but would leave behind soon because, if you’re honest, you were done with this small town park. 

Fallen squirrels were your only entertainment. 

“In fact, I’m moving locations right now. Bye Yoongi-sshi.” You said while heaving a sigh and getting up from your seat before lightly running over to the pair. Shame you didn’t stick around to hear Yoongi say goodbye, but it’s what happens when one’s mind is a hamster hooked on protein powder.

 

You walked into your new workplace, your pant suit all of a sudden feeling suffocating as the receptionist’s eyes narrowed in on you. She was almost completely hidden behind her desk, but you could see her frizzy black hair and sharp gaze from over the edge of the desk. Her gaze felt as if the stripes on your blazer and pants were starting to push down on you and wring you dry of any and all liquids while the little neon purple bow tied around your neck was being tightened and tightened until you could barely breath and spots formed in your vision.

The only word for today is overwhelming.

“Hello. How can I help you this fine Monday?” She asked, her voice lacking all personality as she gave you a once over. You had managed to make it to the front desk and she was boring. Her clothes were black and white and the most interesting thing about her was her gaze.

Like your new studio apartment.

Like the outside of this building.

Like your shoes.

 

“I--I… uhh… I’m the new part time songwriter and producer.” You looked at her neat desk as you spoke and thought about laying on it and using a magnifying glass to detail every nook and cranny in it’s plastic covering, in her notebooks, in every chewed pencil, but you couldn’t, it was time to return to the real world. “It’s my first day. I’m… I’m actually,” What would it be like to run your fingers through her hair and map out the ridges and divots of her head? Find the hidden bobby pins? Examine  every follicle for damage that proved that she has dyed her hair recently?

“I’m actually meant to talk to a Bang Shi-hyuk? I think.” You finally got out, trying to make eye contact with her once again. It was hard. Eyes were scary. Her eyes were scary. They told you be afraid. 

“Oh?” She rose a thick, black eyebrow at you, “What’s your name?”

Sarah.

Mi-yeon.

Yoongi.

Jisoo. 

Alla.

“I’m Y/F/N, ma’am.” You said, once again looking away from her. This time you looked at her keyboard’s keys that keeled under the pressing weight of the woman’s thick and stubby fingers. They were probably smooshed into that form from the size of her tiny keyboard in all honesty. It must’ve been too much work to keep her fingers long and thin and have wasted too much energy and pain to crunch them up to properly fit the board so she changed them. Switched them out with better fingers for her work.

“Follow me, Miss. Y/L/N.” Her monotone voice broke you out of your thoughts as she got up with a clipboard, a chewed pencil, and some sheets of paper in her hands. You complied, watching her feet take tiny, rushed steps towards wherever you two were going. Her heels were tiny, and even with them on she was smaller than you, but she sat all day and you would hang upside down on different tree branches to see how long it took for your hair to grow and touch the floor. Gravity was clearly stretching you like taffy while she was smooshed like a gummy bear.

“Here’s where you go.” The woman said, seeming to hesitate before speaking again, “Remember, make eye contact with him when you talk. If he thinks you’re a pushover, you might not be given a real chance to work. Good luck, Miss. Y/L/N.” She smiled for the first time to you before taking tiny steps away from you down the same hall you imagine you came through. You looked at the door in anxious contemplation. It was solid, but surely some sound seeped through. Surely it was willing to share whatever noise was stored inside with the world. This was an entertainment company so if the whole building wasn’t saturated in music already, you’d surely saturate it to the point that music isn’t just seeping out of it’s inner walls like a good buttered garlic bread, but that music is seeping out into the real world. 

That the music becomes the color of this building and leaves no room for anyone to question this building’s reign over music as a whole.

“Whoever is behind the door are you going to come in? We’d like to start our meeting soon!” A voice called from inside the room in a smiley, giddy sort of way. It was a smile waiting to happen. A broad toothy smile that showed excitement in a child’s face at a candy shop. The giddiness of a first date. 

The joy of an employed artist.

You sighed deeply and opened the door to see your new boss along with seven other people sitting there. “Uhhh… Hello. I am Y/F/N, and I’m the new songwriter.” You said, looking at the table the eight people sat at, too… something to keep from look anyone in the eyes. Everyone but your boss looked grim, as if they were attending a funeral. Your boss, a chubby man with a large smile on his face, seemed to be bouncing in his seat. 

“Nice to meet you Y/N-sshi. Have a seat?” Bang Shi-Hyuk commanded, his arm extending towards the one open seat. You nodded and sat down with a smile. The seat was a swivel leather chair and if you weren’t trying to be proper, you’d start spinning it just to hear the different sounds it’d make. To think of twenty different ways to say it squeaked or it cried in pain from your weight.

Was it saying you were fat?

Return to the real world.

“How are you today, Y/N-sshi?” Someone else asked. At this you looked up, it was a tan-ish man with dove feathers for hair, he smiled at you, but you just nodded back at him. His smile was embezzled with dimples that seemed like they could fit large diamonds in. Not that they could in reality. The dimples also helped push his eyes closed to a degree which was very helpful for you.

Eyes were hard to look at.

“I’m well. Anxious, but that’s what happens in life.” You smiled back, this time looking out the window situated between two of the people in the room, watching life fly by out there. You were trying hard to return to the real world, but when so many eyes were aimed right at you, it was hard to really focus on returning.

“What about you all?” You forced yourself to look at everyone this time, but only stopped one person over from feather hair, “Parakeet.” It was palm tree pants and you finally knew one type of green to use. He looked less tan and his roots were showing, but he did look the same. 

Same sharp nose.

 Same lean frame. 

Same man.

“What?” The man asked and distantly you heard some people laughing at what you said, “Sorry. My mind isn’t on a leash so it ran away for a bit. I just finally figured out one of the words for something… I remember seeing a couple weeks ago. That’s all. Sorry.” 

“You’re good. I understand getting lost in thoughts sometimes.” He smiled and laughed, a heart shape seeming to be made out of his lips as he laughed slightly-- but it wasn’t a heart. Maybe like crimping your fingers and pressing your thumbs as far from their sockets as possible and pressing your hands together. It was strange, but almost an open invite to be oneself.

Accepting?

It was nice. He was nice. You liked how he was interacting with you.

“Y/N-sshi, I hired you because I want you to work with this band to help them create songs. They need a fresh style and I think that your work speaks for itself with how unique it is.” Bang Shi-hyuk said again, you were now looking at the conference call speaker embedded in the table. It was almost like a clove in an orange with how it was situational and had so many holes that you started to think of it imprinted on skin. 

Trypophobia?

It almost sounded like a lullaby and you were sure that if the right person was speaking it could be.

Return to the real world.

“I’m sure it speaks more than I do.” You smile towards the boss again, “Any specific theme? Color? Story? Feeling? Hope?” 

“What? Why would you need to know color?” 

“Blue love is very different than orange love, Sir. The former is calm and casual. It settles for what it has and accepts what it doesn’t. Orange love is fast and passionate and burns out as quickly as leaves and fire. It’s nice momentarily, but only for day trips while camping. Although those are nice for marshmallows-- gotta say. Plus while they only last a little, the time one can spend listening to every whispered proclamation is infinite.” You nodded surely, “Plus-- I’m going to be quiet.” You nodded again, rolling back slightly to look at everyone’s shoes under the table. They were boring under the shadows of the table. You wanted to add life them. 

Paint.

That’s what you needed. 

They needed to be splattered with all the glow in the dark paint one can find. You nodded surely once again.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N-sshi?” Someone new to the table asked, his voice wasn’t new to you, just new to the occasion. You looked up at him, it was Yoongi from the park. 

The man with stretched hands who called you dumb.

“I’m thinking that I want glow-in-the-dark-paint, but at the same time, I’m thinking how great it would be if I could… do something. I lost my train of thought.” You said, nodding a fourth time while running your thumb against the ridges of the table.

Did he ask that on purpose? 

Why did he care? 

What was his motive for asking that?

Return to the real world.

“Oh! How quickly can I start helping out with their music? I already have a few ideas without you telling me what they want. What do you all want out of my help?” You looked at the man with feather hair once again. Were they really feathers? Maybe many thinly shredded pieces of paper? White yarn?

Definitely yarn.

In reality, it was just his hair. Not yarn. Not feathers. Just really damaged hair. 

“Well, we want…” He looks over at the boss. 

“We want popular music. If you can make a hit, then we’re happy. Maybe stuff about love. People love love.” Bang Shi-hyuk nodded a satisfied smile on his face that you only looked at lightly before looking at everyone else’s lips. One of their lips were twitching downward as if he was battling with his body not to frown, others seemed to be having a similar or neutral reaction. Yoongi’s on the other hand, his lips were once again pressing closer to his chin. You nodded your head a fifth time. The boss’s message was clear:

They have no say.

“I…” You wanted to turn yourself around, be upside down again, see how long it took for your now chin length hair to grow to the ground again, to see more smiles instead of frowns. “I can do that.” Your eyes traveled to the clove conference call speaker once again. What a simple job it has. 

How boring.

 

The boys had left shortly after and you were forced to talk with your new boss alone while your mind was constantly running and jumping and rolling…

Frolicing?

You failed to return to the real world while he was talking, but you did understand a few things about what the man had said. You’re expected to work unpaid overtime and teach the band whatever they want to know about your process and producing music. 

If only he knew that you would spend hours doing nothing, dreaming, thinking, and wishing, before you even start to write a song… no matter how hard you might try not to. It was inevitable.

They need you working here, but as the turnover for hiring you was such a quick one, they’ve yet to make anything that will show you work here apart from an old key card to get you into the building and its rooms. You wanted to say that it would work for you, but you understood that he wanted to brand you as his company’s with name tags, BigHit IDs, anything to give the small company a leg up. 

You were currently being led by the smooshed receptionist to wherever her heart desired, although her heart probably desired what the boss desired really. Not that you cared, you were watching the squares of linoleum fly by as you walked, not feeling up to looking around. You felt your knees buckle with want to get a better look. Your fingers twitching to trace the outlines, to follow every tiny color change with twenty million paint swatches, to have a name for what you were stepping on. 

Other than grey linoleum tiles.

Return to the real world.

You looked around the hall, not seeing any windows open and you started to think about the moving world outside. Were your parents sipping some tea at your local temple? Was the local ajumas with military boys “association” gathering to gossip right now? Were those with lives going to work? Was the park still abandoned?

This time when you reached your destination (the smooshed receptionist quickly bowing and leaving once you got there), the door was made of a foggy glass that let you see shadows moving on the other side. You reached your hand out to touch it, to see if the fog was a nails-on-chalkboard soft or a feet-on-the-beach grainy, but all you were met with was glass and a door that gave way quickly to the inside of the room. 

“What are you doing here?” One of the band members asked from where he was standing. 

His shoes still looked boring in this light.

“I… I don’t know. I was just lead here.” You shrugged stepping inside and closing the door behind you before pressing your back against the door. It had grains in the glass. That’s why it was foggy. You felt them against your bare neck. You wanted to slide down the door and sit there, grab your camo green notebook, and start writing how it felt. You looked at their shorts, none had green and none had strange patterns. Were they always so monotone or was it because they didn’t want to get their fun clothes dirty?

“Well there must have been a reason you were brought here.” Someone not in the band said from where they were sitting, their eyebrows pushing together as if the two things wanted to touch. Their foot tapped incessantly on the floor filling your head with a fast paced tempo of nothing but stomps. 

You didn’t like the noise.

“To write songs.” You shrugged again.

“Well this isn’t the place to write.” They countered. You looked at the flooring. It was different than grey. It was a faux wood that seemed to have a waxy covering. How thick was the wax? Was it an inch thick? So thick that a pencil could be trapped inside? 

Return to the real world.

“Writing can be done anywhere, but I don’t think writing should be done everywhere.” Your eyes moved to the walls around you. The one that the door sprouted out of was a wall of mirrors while the rest seemed boring and plain.

“Cut the cryptic bull. Why are you here?” 

You sighed and attempted to focus on the world around you like a normal person, this was how this person was going to be? The part of your mind honed by therapy crawled from its hole letting you speak once again, “I’m here to get to know the band’s personality so I can better place it in songs. Can I do that if other people are in the room?” You looked at the wall behind the annoying man worked on outlining his body shape onto the wall with your eyes. For once you were glad that you knew how to give tiny lies, your inability to look people in the eyes making the words flow out easier and with more security. 

If only they’d leave at your response… 

But you were in front of the door. 

They scoffed, “What?”

You now tried to burn his outline onto the wall, over and over again, maybe then there’d be a hole in lieu of him and you could relax. “I said what I said, now can you please get out? I need to know the subjects I’m writing for. Actually…  I only need them so maybe it would be better if we went to a booth to work. At least those have chairs to relax in. Does that sound better?”

Whoever he was opened his mouth and closed it, opened and closed, opened and closed. “Yeah fine. Just make sure they are back here in an hour, ok?”

You nodded, “I’ll wait for the members outside.” You said, stepping forward, turning around and leaving the room. You stepped towards the window, wishing it was open in that moment. Maybe if it was open your bow and stripes would finally stop squeezing you.

“Y/N-sshi?” You jumped, a slight relief washing over you that they had pulled you out of your mind before you started to cry.

“Yes?” You turned around to look at the man with feather hair smiling at you, the rest of BTS behind him looking tired and sweaty.

“Shall we go to a recording booth now?” You nodded, walking behind him, your eyes trained on his shoes. They were scuffed with some faded grey. Were the scuffs a light grey?

A spanish grey?

A cloud grey?

Like the storms that would hang over Gwangju during spring? Trapping the heat and humidity in your little world for days on end. Constantly pressuring everyone to prepare for rain even though you knew many knew rain wouldn’t come until the kids got out of school for summer break. 

Return to the real world.

You shook your head and looked around the building once again. They were leading you into a small recording studio. You were more used to this environment. You felt as if you might even have the strength to look some of the members in the eyes this time. You felt safer here than you had in many other places since you moved. You walked in front of the band this time and went straight to the buttons. You ran your hand along the ridges of the sliders, scrapped your nails along the ridges of one of the dials--

“Shall we get started with this then?” Someone asked and this time you looked at his face, they all had similar haircuts.

“Sure. Hello. I’m Y/F/N. What’s your alls’ names?” You smiled lightly as shock seemed to spread on the man’s face.

“I’m Kim Seokjin. Nice to meet you, Y/N-sshi.” He said, “You didn’t know who we were before you took up the job?” You looked at some of the others, they didn’t speak.

“I… I did look at some of your music, but generally, after the first album that is, they just followed what the boss said. Hits… what’s everyone else's names?”

Yarn hair (Namjoon) spoke once again as he introduced everyone… and everyone except Jungkook seemed to look you in the eyes. “Why did you want to meet with us separately?” 

You looked around again. The space was so tiny. “Is there a couch anywhere in here that’s just hidden?” You blurted, looking at the chair in dread. That would give you knots. 

But if you had knots you could feel them and see how they moved in your back. Figure out what each movement meant and how you could make them knot over and over before getting released with a simple tug that lead you relaxing into the next year.

“No.” Someone, you weren’t really paying attention to said as you looked back at everyone.

You sighed, “I wanted to get to know you all because clearly hits aren’t working well enough if I was hired and clearly you can’t voice what you want to the CEO. So what do you all want from my help?” The chair would have to do. You turned away from them and sat on the chair.

“I want to give meaning to my music.” Yoongi said, the same bored and possibly grouchy look on his face.. 

“But you can’t do that with a dummy, can you?” You responded with a laugh, carefully folding your legs in on themselves to sit in the chair indian style. Now all you needed was coffee.

He snorted as you rolled the chair around to face them again, “God, you remember me calling you that?”

You just shrugged, “I know it’s not comfortable, but feel free to sit down. I want to get to know you all honestly, none of the worker bull crap.” You smiled up at them, “And this time, I’ll try to keep my mind on a leash, although I am sorry if I can’t… It just wanders.”

Despite you trying, they didn’t seem to open up much to you. They’d say more general stuff that you’d heard time and time again because every idol wants that. Every artist wants that. Every author wants that. Everyone wants that. After them continuing to talk about fame and fortune your mind started to run. You watched as Jungkook, the youngest, shied away from talking every time someone seemed to offer him time to talk, his shoulders high like a scared and hurt animal. 

He shrunk into a corner as soon as everyone else sat down, his eyes flitting from one person to the next, never actually staying still for long before they moved again. It was almost as if he was on the spectrum. 

H seemed more shy than autistic though. 

Not that you had a seventh sense for those who had the same disability as you.

“What do you want out of this, Y/N-sshi?” Yoongi spoke as your eyes jerked to look at him. He seemed to look as bored as you felt… not that you were ever good at reading people. 

That was your worst ability ever.

“From working with you guys or from writing in general?” You countered, this time looking at your hands. Your right thumb was calloused from all the tiny scribbles you’ve written in your camo green journal but that was almost all you ever did to get callouses. 

“Both, I guess.” You looked back over at Yoongi, an eyebrow raised in confusion this time. 

“Well… the latter is easy. I want to be understood. Not just by others, but by me. I never understand my emotions well. Never understand people well. Now that I think about it, I also don’t understand life as well, but that’s a different topic. The former… my parents wanted me out of the house and this seemed like a more stable job than anything else I’ve done so far. It’s pay though…” You looked at your hands once again, maybe they were boring as well, “But constant pay. I have insurance too now, my own place… I have a smaller safety net out here, but it’s a good safety net. A good bed.” You nodded, “I’m a simple gal, I guess.” You nodded, feeling as if that was what you were feeling. “What about you? What do you want out of this?”

“You helping us or music in general?” This time he raised an eyebrow at you and you wanted to lean forwards to see how many ways to sunday you could rearrange his eyebrow hair… as weird as that is.

“Both, I guess.” You mimicked his words, a third nod rippling through your head. You felt your fingers start to twitch towards the chair’s arms… you started thinking about making an imprint of--

“The first one is easy, I don’t want much to do with you. I know you agreed to possibly composing and producing a song with me some time, but I want creative say over what I perform and you being here feels as if more is being taken away.” You nod, a real answer is a real answer, and that was something different than what people had been saying before, “With music in general. I don’t know. I love making it and I think I want to share my message with people, but at the same time… I don’t know…” You started looking at the foam boards that rested inside the actual recording booth section of the studio as he kept rambling on and on and on, images of music being impaled on them and gathering up to eventually be harvested like honey and brewed into the most amazing, spontaneous saturation of everything and anything that’s ever been performed. 

You look back over at him, his words no longer flowing through your ears but you simply nodded and held up your hand as if to pause him, not that it worked immediately, “Do you guys normally record in here?”

“What? We went from talking about why we write and perform to something as surface level as if we record in this booth?” You could practically see the harsh edge of Yoongi’s words flowing through the air and crashing into your body and you felt the need to wince at some emotion that most likely was not a good one, but what did you know?

“Are you going to answer my question or feel bad?” You asked, although as soon as the question came out you knew that that was not the right word for his emotions. There never was. You didn’t know enough about… life, people, anything, “Sorry, wrong emotion… but the question still stands.”

“I- I mean I guess we’ve recorded most of our work here. Why is that even important?” His brows were furrowed once again and this time you couldn’t stop your body from moving forwards slightly to get a better look at the fine hairs, somewhere in the back of your mind was screaming that this wasn’t normal. Your years of training and working with a trainer and animals told you that staring at someone’s eyebrows was strange and something you shouldn’t do, but you wanted to. They weren’t a rough, scraggly pink like the rest of the clearly visible hair on his head. They were soft looking and shiny from what you must have imagined to be a mix of oil and sweat. 

Maybe not… maybe though. Who knew.

He knew.

“Y/N-SSHI!” His shout took you out of your thoughts as you flinched. Did you really do something that bad that he had to yell at you? You pulled yourself into a ball on the chair and looked at him. He seemed to look upset, but what was upset?

Yelling. 

Stern looks.

Doing something bad.

“Sorry. I get like that sometimes. Please don’t yell at me in the future if I do get like that, Yoongi-sshi.” You mumbled, you cleared your throat, pushing aside the one emotion you knew well: dread, “Anyways, what I was trying to get at is why don’t we work together to get your message, your all’s story of struggling to get to where you are together? Here in this studio where you have memories living here to give you constant inspiration? I know I have to technically write it and produce most of your album, but I’d love to try and appease you guys with what I write.” Your nerves were dancing so you simply turned around, the two feelings you knew most setting your body aflame: anxiety and disappointment. But disappointment about what was your question.

Was it with yourself and making such a stupid, obvious mistake that years of training should have beaten out of you? 

You nodded.

Was it with Yoongi for yelling at you when you took him for such a calm person?

You nodded three times. 

You didn’t think those were the answers. 

You nodded a fifth time.

You needed to stop nodding. You nodded too much. You needed to stop it before people thought you were stranger than you were. You sighed. Did anyone even think you were normal? Was anyone normal?

People say they are but then they go clubbing and do stuff you shouldn’t do. Is that normal? Is the norm of a friend group not a norm for someone else? Should it be counted as that? Is normal what the government set up? But what if the government says morally bad things are normal? Like in The Purge? What if that actually happened? Would that be some sadistic American thing to knock off the unemployed and homeless or would it spread and consume the world? Eating and eating everything until only five world leaders remain? 

“Y/N-sshi?” Someone asked, placing their hand on your shoulder, you jumped.

“Please don’t touch me.” You shoved his hand off of you, “Can’t you see my creative process has started? Please, come back later when your free to talk about producing stuff and what you want to write about. I need to keep thinking up some ideas.” You didn’t mean to, but your voice sounded rough and you cringed internally at the probability of them thinking that you were meaner than you actually were. You weren't mean. Just… misunderstood. 

Like Frankenstein's monster.

Stumbling around the world while trying to communicate with those around you and failing. Grunts and sad excuses for words spilling from your mouth slowly like tar. You’d only met a few people like you, and everyone in the group seemed so passionate… was it passion? Or was it an interest? A want to do something your good at? A need to do something? About something in their life, but here you were: flouncing from one medium to another without any--

You distantly heard them leave.

--Real want to stay in one place. You’ve written poetry books, songs, whatever you want you’ve done it… everything except books. You’re working on one, but it’s so slow and hard and no one wants a writer who is indecisive about her genre. 

You look around the booth, its empty. You nod, turn yourself upside down so your feet were resting on the head rest and your head swung where your feet would have been if you were normal. 

You needed to think and this was the best way you knew. 

You nodded. 

Again.

Again.

Eyes set with a plan as you started to let your mind wander to anywhere and everywhere it could imagine if only to help you come up with an interesting song for BTS. 

 

“You’re upside down again.” Was the first thing you heard when your mind meandered back to the present to see Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jungkook staring at you from above. Yoongi’s lips were once again pressing against his chin in an upside down smile while Hoseok’s seemed to be stretching as wide as they could in an almost circle shape… maybe it was a third grader girl’s attempt at merging a circle with a heart? Like some stupid project she tried to do while doodling her first name with her crushes last put together in preparation for their nonexistent future together. Either way, you liked it and attempted to smile back at Hoseok.

“Yeah. Gets the blood flowing.” You tried to say casually while failing to smoothly right yourself in the chair. 

“That’s dumb. It only makes your face red and you light headed.” Yoongi said and this time you could see his frown for what it was. Did he always wear one? Or just when you were around?

“How would you know? I find it brings the ideas clogged in my feet to my head and lets them flow through my body in general.” You looked them over again, they were in different clothes this time, and they looked more tired than before. You looked over at the blaring red clock in the room, it’s been almost five hours since you last saw them.

“Do you guys have any ideas for what you want the album to be about?” You started, sliding off the chair and onto the ground. It almost felt as comfortable as the swivel chair and you started to think what it would be to lay here and look up at the ceiling and imagine the--

“We were supposed to have ideas? I thought we were just vetoing or agreeing with your ideas.” Namjoon said as he sat down across from you, the other three following. Your eyes moved to look at Hoseok’s hair, it was tinted three shades darker from the sweat soaking his scalp, and you almost wanted to just sit there and watch salt crystals form to see if there was anything special about the crystals on his scalp than the crystals from the salt crystals that grew on the rocks at the Youngsan River. 

You nodded.

Return to the real world.

“It’s ok. I don’t think I ever actually told you guys to think of ideas, so I can’t expect that much.” You said pressing your hands flat on the floor.

It wasn't until three that morning that the four of you had a somewhat solid idea as to what you wanted to do, and it wasn’t until four the next morning that you were finally able to sleep. 

 

You felt embarrassed while walking behind the secretary with smooshed hands the next morning. You were in another pantsuit (this time without a blazer on top) and following her around to the studio. You were trying hard to pay attention to the path you were taking and your meds were helping, but once again, you felt your mind try to wander. You hoped your meds would’ve helped you more, but push comes to shove: it’s hard to stop a protein powder addicted hamster from exercising. 

Eventually you made it to the studio where a tiny note waited for you. You slid down onto the floor and grabbed the note. Already deciding to use your first paycheck-- if you could that is-- to get a beanbag for this studio.

The handwriting on the note was sloppy and shakey and the paper itself looked torn and tattered. Of course it took you five minutes of looking at the note itself to read it.

Y/N, I expect your first demo by the end of the week.

-Bang Shi-hyuk

Great. You sighed before taking out your notebook and starting to scribble away off of what the four had told you last night. Hopefully you won’t do them dirty. 

 

“Y/n-sshi?” Someone asked, the door to the studio slowly opened. You kept writing, your right ear close to the paper to hear each scratch and crinkle of the paper as you wrote the lyrics and pitches.

“Yes?” You asked, not looking up from your sheet.

“Do you think you could help me with some lyrics writing?” It was Yoongi, this time he sported deep purple eye bags and dark roots. In general, he looked like he needed to sleep instead of working on his lyricism. All you wanted to do was finish this demo for Bang Shi-hyuk, but you were also tasked with helping BTS learn to produce “popular” songs so you simply sighed and nodded. 

Your knees ached as you sat up from where you were sitting on the floor, “Let me see them.” You said while holding out your hand for whatever he had written. 

“It is an interesting song. I don’t know if the lyrics match with the beat though. I am surprised that you’re writing something about growing up in this type of way.” You said after reading it and then spending a minute or so analyzing his handwriting. It was very different from what you would expect from someone who seemed to constantly show neutral or negative emotions. Anger?

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows scrunched together, created two valleys between his eyebrows. Would there be adventures found there?

“Well, the lyrics are about the anxiety of growing up, but the beat is fast and you seem to have plans for some hyper background beat. I feel as if a song has extra meaning if you have a more mellow beat.” 

“Why?” He seemed tense, like he didn’t like your response.

“I am sorry if you don’t like my response.” You quickly spat out, fear over making Yoongi mad coming to the forefront of your mind as you continued, “What I mean is that the lyrics are more… passive. The lyrics are asking for innocence not to leave but also not knowing how to keep it. The pace and the beat you have written are… more active. They are the beat of something that is fighting, not of something that is stuck or sad. I do love the lyrics though. I think that if there are more lyrics like this then BTS will be a hit.” 

“We were doing this before.” Yoongi seemed mad when he said that, a sigh leaving his lips as he ran his hand through his hair. 

You waved your hand passively, not wanting to get into an argument with him, “What different instruments were you planning on using?” 

“I-I don’t fully know? I was thinking of having more heavy bass, maybe something electronic… like how I produced Tomorrow.” He stumbled over his words like a toddler would stumble over their feet. It was somewhat cute… but this was work time and cuteness will have to wait until you can look up cats pictures at your apartment. 

A hum escaped you as you nodded, not really knowing what Tomorrow sounded like, “I could see that, but I think that something more subdued would work better. Maybe a weaker instrumental.”

“Why would one want something weak in their song?” 

“Well… weak is the wrong word, subdued could be a better term. What I mean, Yoongi-sshi, is that while a juxtaposition of weak words with an aggressive beat would be cool, I don’t think you are thinking of writing a story of anger due to fear that I could see that juxtaposition making this story become.” But then again, he seems to be someone who acts out with anger when they don’t feel safe. Your eyes widened slightly, as this was the first time you understood someone’s motives? Was that why Yoongi acted out?

“I… I get that, I think. Would I be able to get back to you with an updated pace and instrumental and we can work on a demo together?” Yoongi asked, slowly nodding and looking more determined, even with his purple eye bags. 

“I would be fine with that, or if you wanted to make the demo without me and then share, both work.”

“Wait-- aren’t you supposed to teach us how to make popular music?” Yoongi asked, once again looking confused. 

“Well, I think I am supposed to, but between you and me, I find that the best creators sometimes just need a little guiding, not new teaching. This song seems good, who knows if we can make it into a good pop song, but I don’t think you would learn as much if I did more than criticize. That reminds me, would you be willing to look at my music sheets for a song I am writing for you all? I am hoping to have it be an analogy for the struggle of needing to rely on others to make money.” You said, an unknown emotion fluttering in your stomach as you asked. If you could have, you would have paused time and tried to fully understand the emotion, but you couldn’t so you moved along, ignoring the fluttering emotion. 

“Sure.” He sighed before holding his hand out, you held it to him and waited, eventually he hummed and nodded, “This is very different than what we have sung before, but I like it better than some of the other songs Bang PD-nim has bought for us to sing. How can I help with producing it?” 

You felt excited at his approval, “I don’t think I need your help too much, but if you wanted to think of some instruments or beats that could work with the song, that would be good. You are after all the person who will be singing and dancing to this song, not me.” You said, already taking the song sheet back and pulling out your computer to work on the demo, “You’re welcome to stay here if you want and just work. It isn’t a comfortable space and I want to change that, but it is a space.” 

“I am fine. Thank you.” He said before getting up and leaving you alone in the room without anyone else.

 

It was too loud.

You shook your head.

Too, too, toooooo loud.

You shook your arms and moved past the people crowding around BigHit as best as you could, uncontrollably shaking your head and arms all the while. It felt as though wild horse had taken the rains and all you wanted was control. 

And quiet. 

Control and  quiet. 

The outside of the entertainment company was swarmed with people trying to take photos and screaming and you didn’t like it. Of course a city is much louder than you wanted in general, which is why you installed as many soundproofing things in your apartment as you possibly could when you moved in, but the studio was supposed to be your sacred place. It had been for the month and a half you had been working there and now, after BTS had released a new album, your sanctuary was ruined. 

Maybe working at an entertainment company was too much for you. Maybe living in a busy city was too far from your safety net. Maybe your therapist was wrong for the first time since you started working with them. 

“Hey, Y/n-ah, are you ok?” Someone asked, their hand assaulting your shaking arm, maring your body, and causing you to jerk away. 

“G-g-get o-o-off of m-m-m-me please!” You screamed, running to your studio and curling up onto the couch you got last week, hoping the cold of the untouched fabric would swallow you whole. Your arm burned where the person touched you and you were still shaking. It was getting better, but still, the wild horse was still not under control.

Not that it would ever fully be under control.  

You needed to relax, to focus, to… to… to focus and reclaim your autonomy. Your years of training lead you up to this. 

After probably five minutes you got up from the couch and pulled your soft blanket out of a desk drawer and wrapped it as tightly around yourself as you could, as if you were trying to force the blanket to strangle you, but it comforted you, soothed you, told you everything was going to be alright. 

It was as comforting as a hug from your brother and you needed some sort of comfort right now. You needed something to tell you everything was going to be alright. Taking a pencil and notebook to the sound recording booth, you spent as long as you could in the quiet, describing the tap tap taps of pencil markings and how it was different from pen markings.

Would one call the sound a scratching or a scraping?

An itch?

A-

A small knock reverberated through the recording booth and through your skull, fear shaking you as you looked up. You were a deer in the headlights, knowing their impending doom was approaching but not moving. The protein power hooked hamster in your brain finally taking a break.

It was Yoongi and once again, similar to every time you’ve seen him in the month and a half you have worked at the studio, your heartbeat sped up. He was calming. Soothing. A mantra of something will be alright. 

He was real nice to be around. 

You like Yoongi. 

Why was he here?

He opened the door, “Are you ok, Y/n-ah? You looked real scared earlier.” He whispered, coming into the booth and closing the door, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t read. It wasn’t pity but it was most definitely something along those lines. Was it sympathy? But why?

“Y/n-ah, are you ok?” He asked once again, moving closer slowly and sitting down across from you.

“I… uhhh… I am doing better… just… just shaken up. I… I don’t like loud… I don’t like loud things.” Your voice was breathy and squeaky… you sounded… sad? Something like that. Scared? Maybe. 

“Why were you shaken up? What scares you about loud things?” The same look was still in Yoongi’s eyes as he reached out to touch your hand. 

“Don’t touch me!” You shouted, tugging your hands into your blanket, the pencil you had been holding falling onto the carpet silently, “I-I-I-I don’t l-l-li-like being touched! I-I-I-I-I do-don’t like l-loud noises!” 

“Why, Y/n-ah?” Yoongi asked again, his voice still quiet and the same look in his eyes. Nothing changed in how he interacted with you. No red face and puffy cheeks. No yelling. No tears. No change. It shocked you. Scared you almost… but not really. 

It was… new… unexpected.

“I have autism, Yoongi-ah. It’s p-p-p-part of the symptoms. I am… I am sorry if I… hurt you because… because… I didn’t tell… it’s hard to… it’s hard to tell people about it.” You had started to ramble, squinting at the orange juice stain on the carpet as some tears slipped from your eyes, “I… I… It is so hard to function sometimes… especially in the city when there is so much happening and then there were… there were all these people outside… they were screaming and flashing their lights in my face… and… and… and then… then someone… they burned me… they burned me with their touch… I… I… I-” The blanket tightened around you, everything will be alright being whispered in your mind as it happened. 

“Y/n-ah, it’s ok. I get it. I completely get it, please don’t worry. Please calm down, a deep breath in,” He in air through his lungs and raised his hands up, and you took a deep breath in, “and out,” both of you released air, “In.” 

Your mind stilled while you looked at him and the two of you were able to sit in the booth for ten or so minutes just breathing in and out deeply. Soon enough, you found yourself calmer, quieter. Yoongi was telling you that something will be alright and you… liked it. You liked it a lot.

It was then that you saw that while you were writing about pencil marks, you must have also been crying because there were very prominent tear drops that marred the page. 

“I would love to learn more about you and your autism, but I don’t think that we may want to talk about it here.” Yoongi started, breaking the silence with more tiny whispers, you simply nodded, “How about we leave for an early lunch?”

“I-I… I would rather not have to face the people outside again though, Yoongi-ah.” You whined, lightly shaking your head.

“I know a way out that avoids them.”

“I highly doubt that, Yoongi-ah. Their noise was so… so… present. There’s no way to avoid them.” You sighed, “I rarely find places that I can avoid the noise.”

Yoongi nodded and hummed, “I have a car that we can use though. Cars can really muffle the noise, and the people can’t get to us in the car.” 

“Do you promise?” You asked, scared? Unsure? Worried? Prepared? For his words to be a lie.

“I promise.” 

Something will be alright.

You took the leap towards food, less noise, Yoongi to talk to. It sounded decent… nice? Wonderful? You had no idea of the severity of it.

 “Ok, sure. Let’s go, but I am bringing my notebook and my blanket.” Yoongi simply laughed and nodded with a smile at your comment. Yoongi clocked out (you had apparently forgot to clock in, but you had a good reason), his stretched hands lazily putting his punch-in card away. Yoongi lead the way to somewhere, this time you were trying to pay attention. Your brain was drained and for once the hamster in your brain was sleeping, and you saw where the two of you were going.

“Why are we going to the staff lounge?” You asked, your feet sliding across the floor as the two of you got close to the door you always avoided.

“We need the staff car, duh.” Yoongi shot back, quickly sliding in while you waited outside, looking confused? Shocked? Something at Yoongi doing that. Shortly after, he slipped back out of the staff room, the two of you quickly moved to the underground parking, slid into a staff car, and drove off. 

As per Yoongi’s promise, the car ride was quiet and you felt even calmer. You were exponentially grateful for the quiet. The two of you drove for ten or so minutes, your mind stuttering to a rickety stop as you stared out the window. When the two of you had stopped, it was in front of a park, a small food truck the only evidence of other people in the park. 

“Will this be good for you, Y/n-ah?” Yoongi asked, unbuckling his seatbelt and pushing his seat back. 

“Yeah. This is better than good, it’s perfect. I love parks. A lot.” You smiled lightly when a squirrel ran across the wide plane of grass. 

All Yoongi said in response was “I'm glad.” Before the two of you left the car to eat from the lone food truck. The two of you only spent an hour at the park, you mostly explaining how you live with autism and how he can help you out, before the two of you made your way back to BigHit. 

Sure the two of you had a large scolding from one of Yoongi's managers, but you didn't feel any shame like you normally might have which was strange. You always thought that shame would come any time you did something someone else didn’t want you to do. 

How was it that you didn’t feel any now? 

It… it made no sense with the pattern of emotions you had created. 

You were walking to your recording booth in a daze, Yoongi long forgotten.

If you weren’t supposed to leave BigHit and you were scolded… why was there no shame? 

Maybe… maybe you'll ask Yoongi if he knows why later.

Is he an ally for you now? 

What if he was only acting like he cared about you?

You clocked in and sat down at your desk, your limbs flopping everywhere. 

You needed more blood in your head to think about this.

 

“I like this demo, Y/n-ah, but I think that it is more important to talk about what happened earlier today.” Shihyuk said once you showed him the demo, and immediately your skin bristled as if you were ready to fight, “What happened? You seemed so scared. I hate seeing my employees like that.”

You sighed, “The sound and lack of personal space… it… it is hard for me.” You mumbled, happy? Relieved? Relaxed? that he didn’t seem mad, but not… fully… at ease with sharing why.

“Why, Y-n-ah. BigHit- I cannot help you if you don’t tell me why all of the noise and people were overwhelming.”

“I am autistic.”

“Oh.”

“I am so sorry for not telling you or originally disclosing that. I didn’t think that it was super super super super important.” You were shaking your head furiously while hoping to make up for lying, “I can pack u-”

“Y/n-sshi, it’s no big deal. We can deal with that. I feared that it would be something like you were experiencing some sort of mental break.” 

You laughed lightly, "I am glad that that was the worst. Don't worry. I really am not too bad to be around. Just... maybe, if you're able to, I would love it if you put out a statement to the fans about not crowding around the building? I-I can only handle so much sound at times."

“Is that why you spend most of the time in the studio?”

“Yeah. It is much quieter, but... uhh... what do you think of my demo? I want the criticism before I bring it up to BTS.” You said, desperately wanting to change the topic.

“The demo is good, I am glad that I hired you and not someone else. Go back to work.” Shihyuk said flatly... was he bored? Disappointed? Upset? You didn’t know but you didn’t like how empty his statement was on it.

“That's all that you have to say about the demo?” You felt like you were grasping at straws with this man. Was he always like this to everyone or is your demo just that good? 

It couldn't be the latter.

“Yup! Continue your hard work! It is really helping our boys!” He smiled broadly and waved you off. 

“Ok.” You mumbled and left the room quickly and made your way back to your studio in... a daze? Yeah, a daze. When you sat in your chair, you realized that you didn't want to write another demo or work more on this other demo. Spinning the chair around, you pulled out your personal laptop and opened up the document for your future book. 

Maybe until BTS comes by to work on learning the songs you've been working on, you'll actually get work on your book done… even if you should be working on other things. 

 

“Are you sure that we're allowed in here? She seems so closed off.” You heard someone say from the door to your studio. You were curled up in a corner, sitting on your couch and writing, the hamster in your brain still asleep. You struggled to keep writing and grasped at straws for information, but it was something. Some movement is better than no movement. One step is better than no steps. 

How large of a step could you take?

How long would it take for you to walk one kilometer if you took the smallest steps you could?

Return to the real world.

“Why wouldn't we be allowed in here, Jungkook-ah? Y/n-sshi is here to help us grow as artists. If she is here, she'll help us.” It was Jimin who was talking, you knew because you had grown an affinity for his voice as well as Jin's during the recording of their latest album. His voice was smooth and calming, it flitted through the air like a hummingbird and was as smooth as homemade ice cream. You could listen to it for hours on end. 

You might have with the number of recordings of him redoing his lines, but that was neither here nor there. . 

“Of course I am here to help you all.” You said, hoping your voice wasn’t too rough as it started up again. You got up from your couch and walked over to them, “How can I help you?” You tried to smile and look Jungkook in the eyes but the second your eyes met his, they plummeted to the ground. Eye contact was still hard for you with strangers and you had only talked to him to get his lines right. 

“Well, we came because we wanted to learn some more about how to produce music from you. Is it ok if you teach us now? Or would you prefer to not?” Jungkook asked, his hands rubbing together… was that his anxiety showing? Was he worried to talk to you?

Were you scary?

You didn’t want to be scary. 

“Now’s ok.” You tried to smile again, nodding your head. You wouldn’t act scary. You weren’t scary. You couldn’t hurt a fly. You got this. 

 

“What made you decide to be a writer, Y/n-ah?” Yoongi asked, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence in your studio like a knife. It had been hours of the two of you simply sitting in the studio, you hanging upside down on the couch and him sitting next to you on the floor, and working on music (well he was and you were thinking). This had become a common thing for the two of you after the latest tour. It was almost the third week of the two of you meeting up and working together. Sometime after your picnic, you two became friends and even during times when you didn’t need to, you were together. You decided that you could listen to his voice for months on end during your time with him, especially in moments like these where his voice is a reprieve from the hamster in your brain. It was what it was and you didn’t necessarily want to describe it… you just wanted it around you constantly. It said everything was going to be ok, and you liked it. 

Why?

You didn’t know, you just did. 

“Y/n-ah? What made you become a writer?” Yoongi asked again.

“I… I think it started with me wanting to describe what I see.” You said slowly. It was a question you’d heard a lot before, but you never fully knew how to describe why you became a writer. There was just this pull you felt and it’s stayed ever since, “What about you, Yoongi-ah?”

“I think I started writing to share my feelings. To be understood, you know?” Understood? What does that feel like? Is it warm? Cold? Good? Bad? Well, it is probably good seeing as people tend to talk about being understanding as a good thing, but how does feeling understood feel?

“No, I don’t think I know. What’s it feel like when you’re understood?” You finally asked, turning your head slightly to look at Yoongi’s silhouette. He was hunched over a thin notebook that he was trying to fill with a song and its many parts. He looked comfortable. Like you felt hanging upside down right now.

Yoongi hummed, “It’s hard to describe, but feeling understood is like… a weight is lifted off of your chest. Like you can just be you. You don’t have to hide… it’s nice. Really nice. Does that make sense?” You knew that he was looking at your face right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes. They were heavy. They always were. You liked them, but they were hard to look at. 

“I think it does. Like right now… I feel understood.” You looked up at the next best thing, Yoongi’s lips. They also drew you to them, but you… you didn’t know why, “Right now. I… I feel understood by you.” Yoongi’s face turned fully towards you. He seemed much quieter now but you didn’t fully know why. 

“Yeah? That makes me really happy.” He seemed closer now and you didn’t know if you minded. 

“Yeah?” You were much quieter now, looking intently at Yoongi’s lips, they looked soft. You felt the need to close your eyes, but you only managed to close them slightly before Yoongi’s lips were suddenly farther away and you felt a tension in the air that wasn’t there before. 

You wanted them closer again. 

You might have wanted him to have kissed you. 

Why? 

You didn’t fully know. You liked the idea of him kissing you. Maybe it was because you wanted to know just how soft they were. Sure. That’s what it was.

“Sorry for getting so close. I know you don’t like to be touched. I better go. It’s late.” Yoongi muttered before standing up and leaving the room. It felt colder without him in it. 

You ended up leaving the studio shortly after Yoongi did, the room too cold and still to… sad? Disappointed? Upset? Something negative that Yoongi pulled away. Why? You didn’t fully know, but the more you thought about it the more you wished that he had in fact kissed you. 

Were you ugly? Did he not like you that way?

What did it even mean to like someone that way?

How would you know if you liked someone that way?

Nothing made sense to you and that room was not helping. 

You needed your room. 

Your apartment.

Your safe space. 

 

The sound of sneakers squeaking to the song you helped everyone put together was your background music as you scribbled away at some new song that BTS could use. The dance looked brutal and you were very happy that you all you did was write the songs. BTS had been dancing to it for what felt like hours to you and you were tempted to try to check in with them about your latest song to give them a break, but you knew how bad that will go over with their choreographer. 

He had pulled you aside during your third session with BTS to yell bullets at you just for taking them out for your first meeting with them… even though it was only for half an hour. It was hard for you to stay still and calm while he yelled at you. If it weren’t for the subtle tap tap tap and shake shake shake of your head, you would have surely lost it, but you didn’t and the man seemed to be upset that he hadn’t made you cry. In short: The man was catty as all hell.

You didn’t like it, so you didn’t cross him… you have locked him out of your studio and the staff lounge on multiple occasions though. You could be catty too… you just didn’t want to be yelled at again so you never crossed him in person.

You also didn’t like spending hours of your day all alone, just waiting for the members to come in and ask for something. It was boring and soul so you found yourself taking your work elsewhere when you were able to. This was the first time you had tried to write in the practice room and you didn’t know what to think of it. 

The choreographer shouting “Take Ten.” interrupted your thoughts and when you looked up, you saw BTS moving over to you and sitting next to you. You wanted to shy away from the stench, but you stayed where you were, eyes still on your notebook, the guys gasped for air and yelled for water. You wished they’d be a little quieter, but you didn’t say anything. You just kept writing. The idea was flying around in your mind right now and you thought that if you were to pay attention to anything other than it, the idea would flutter away. Not wanting to stay in one place at a time. 

You had to capture it.

You were capturing it. 

It would be completely captured soon.

You just needed three more hours of hardcore work on this idea and your rough draft will be done. You thought you heard your name called and you waved whoever it was off. 

You needed to work. 

This had to be done asap. 

“Ya! Noona!” Jimin shouted, his hand falling down on your back and forcefully ripping you from your precious idea. You were shocked and scared as you looked at him. 

“Couldn’t you see she was busy? Why did you do that?” Yoongi sighed before mumbuling out an apology, barely looking you in the eyes before he looked away… not that you cared about him looking you in the eyes… you didn’t. 

You didn’t like to make eye contact.

Really. 

Right. You didn’t like eye contact. It was hard to hold. Really. 

“Well she’s clearly not too busy for us, right Noona?” Taehyung came closer, sweat gliding down his back as he cupped his face in an aegyo style. It was… interesting to say the least. You didn’t fully understand the appeal of aegyo… it made people seem way more childish and it… you didn’t really find it cute.

“I mean…” You mumbled, looking at your songbook once again. 

Hoseok’s laughing broke you from looking at your book, “She was too busy for us!” 

“Why did you come into the practice room if you were too busy to meet with BTS, then?” The choreographer sneered. You didn’t like it one bit. You didn’t like him one bit.

“I like company. Unlike you, I only get an hour of talking with BTS a day, maybe more if you free them for long enough for them to actually work with me. I get lonely.” You said, looking at the floor once again. He couldn’t take away your right to work where you wanted. Even if he tried. You wouldn’t let him. Not at all. 

You liked the autonomy of moving around and no one will take it from you. 

The choreographer simply sighed and waved you off. You rolled your eyes. The man was way too for his own good. He’ll get an aneurysm soon if he doesn’t relax more.

“Wow. Are all of your interactions with him like that?” Yoongi asked quietly, he was the closest to you now and the rest of the guys seemed a little dumbstruck.

“Eh. Somewhat.” You shrug. 

“He really shouldn’t treat you like that.”

“Yeah. I don’t care. It’s not like I really have to interact with the man if I don’t want to.” You said, trying to look Yoongi in the eyes before looking back down at your notebook, “How is the dance practice going anyways?” 

“It’s hard,” Jin said, moving to sit closer to you on the floor, “I blame you for this, Y/n-sshi.” 

What?

Your eyes widened. 

What did you do?

You shook your arm.

How is it that you are responsible for hard choreography if all you have done is write a song? 

You didn’t have anything to do with the choreography.

“He means it as a joke, Y/n-ah.” Yoongi’s voice cut through your worry, your arm shaking but now you were feeling much more secure since  you knew that it was a joke. You laughed awkwardly, glad to know that it was a joke but still uncomfortable at the thought that you could somehow make the dances hard.

“Maybe I should write some slower songs to make up for it… so you all can dance to them similarly to how you danced to Tomorrow.” You said, trying to offer something to remedy the possibility of your songs making them work harder. 

“Whaa! You actually looked at our other music! I am honored!” Taehyung shouted loudly. It scared you and you very much wanted to hide away from the connotation of his words. You were nothing special. All you did was write. Nothing more. 

“I- I mean your music is good. Not necessarily all my style, but good. Plus, I feel as if I should know your style to carry it to the newer songs I write.” You muttered quietly, reaching for something to ground you. 

You grabbed Yoongi’s hand.

It was warm and held the same meaning of everything will be alright. They were crazy people and you wanted to know that everything is ok even with all this hecticness here. 

“Wow! That is such a good compliment from you. Why do you think that we didn’t get popular off of it then?” Namjoon asked, an unreadable look in his eyes. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but what could you say? 

They came out at the wrong time?

Their title track was too out there for the large masses to like?

The market they choose for the music they have was not the right fit?

You closed your mouth. You really didn’t know.

Yoongi squeeze your hand lightly. 

Everything will be alright.

“I don’t know, honestly. My best bet would be that BTS came out at the wrong time for the market to be receptive.” You shrugged, hoping that their ten minute break would be up soon. Of course it wasn’t though.

They kept you busy for all of their ten minute break and by the time you got back to writing down the idea you had before, the idea was completely and utterly lost. Who knew how long it would take for you to recapture the idea you had. 

 

The softness of your pillow hit your cheek, happily greeting you back to the bed. A happy sigh left your lips as you smiled. It was quiet in your apartment and you were glad to finally get to unwind. It was five am, the sun just peeking through your curtains, you had spent the entire night finishing the instrumental backing for the latest song you composed for BTS. Exhausting as it was, you were finally glad to havea break and you planned on using it fully. Writing was amazing, you thoroughly enjoyed getting to write all the time, and these songs will do a lot to boost your resume, but you needed a break. You really needed one. 

You weren’t getting paid enough for the hours you were working, you knew you wouldn’t when you came into the job. 

Now you could relax and reward yourself. 

Starting with a nap. A long one. 

If only it had been that simple. 

Truly it could have been, but you aren’t someone who does things simply. The second you had brushed your teeth and gotten into some clothes to sleep in, your mind started to create a list of things that had to be done around the house. The dishes, the laundry, the whole kitchenette needs to be cleaned, you really need to go over your expenses again, and so forth. You sighed and rolled over. Maybe the other side of the bed would be better.

It wasn’t.

Your mind kept running and running to the point that you simply got up, made some instant coffee, and got to work with cleaning up the kitchenette. Work won’t stop for the weary, you thought. You wish it did though. It’d make your whole life better. 

By the time you had finished putting everything in the kitchenette away, almost three hours had past and you were more tired than before. 

But you couldn’t sleep. The sun was urging you not to and you were listening. Somewhat. It was only after you cleaned the rest of the space in your small apartment that you took a break and checked your phone. 

Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin had messaged you about grabbing food tonight with them. Did you want to? Would it be loud? You sighed before typing sure. Food couldn’t be too bad if all of BTS were there… maybe it was just them… that wouldn’t be too bad too. Maybe slightly worse since Yoongi wouldn’t be there…

Why did you focus on him so much? You were confused by what you felt for him. Was it just friendship or something more? You’d never felt something more than friendship before. What does it feel like? 

You shook your head, the rest of your body shaking after you did so. The shake must have triggered one of your spasms… you hated that. You’ll live though. It was about time for you to get up and do something anyways. 

In the end, you went to a cafe promising to work on your book… instead you looked up what it’s like to like someone romantically. 

Truly it was research for your book. Romance is important to have in a book. Really. It is. But maybe the knowledge it’ll give you about your feelings towards Yoongi is important too.

 

The dinner was at 18:30 but by 11 you were already preparing for it. The men were definitely above average looking and you wanted to try to match that… not that you could really. You weren’t the best skilled in makeup, spending most of your teenage time alone in your room reading and writing, nor did you have much skill at styling hair… or nails… but you did manage. In the end, you wore a simple yellow skater dress that synched at your waist and ended at your knees as well as a large manilla sweater that you loved. Hair fell into your face from the two french braids you attempted and your lips felt dry from whatever lipstick you put on, but you were happy you made some semblance of an effort. So here you were, waiting in front of some random grill that was most definitely going to set you on edge once you were inside.

As expected, all of BTS showed up looking tired from their work today, but all in all they looked happy. They had apparently made a reservation for a private room in the grill, which was five times quieter than the actual restaurant and you felt… understood? Comfortable? One of those. You were sure you could ask Yoongi later if you really wanted to know but you didn’t know if you cared to know at the moment. You wanted to focus on the now. On Yoongi and Jungkook next to you and Namjoon across from you, everyone else sitting around you and laughing. Watching everyone interact was fun and amicable. You almost wanted to try and understand the connection you felt in the air but more than anything, you wanted to remember everyone smiling and laughing and having fun. It made you happy. The whole idea of being included in something like this made you happy. It felt like you were all becoming friends.

It was only part way through the dinner when you finally gave in and shared a bottle of soju with Namjoon that the dinner started to go downhill. You were getting more loose lipped and giggily and it surely took some of the men by surprise. Not that you cared at this point. You really didn’t. The real trouble wasn’t until you started whining about wanting a desert that the restaurant didn’t sell because it ended with you dragging Yoongi out of the restaurant in search of finding some restaurant that actually sold red bean paste and mochi separately. You wanted that and a scoop of ice cream, nothing else. 

Yoongi seemed to quietly follow you as you searched for a shop that sold what you wanted. You didn’t mind. You just wanted your food… and maybe time with him, but you wouldn’t tell him that.

Did you want to spend time with him?

Yeah. You did. Truely. 

Even if he was whining about having to look with you. 

At one point, you even reached out and grabbed his wrist because he was going too slow for you. He seemed shocked by you touching him but you needed him to go faster. Really. You wanted to have your food and you wanted it now. 

“Can we slow down, Y/n-ah? I am getting tired.” Yoongi asked, slowing down and simply letting you tug his wrist.

“I don’t want to.” You whined, shaking his wrist from where you were holding it, “But for you, Yoongi-ah, I will.”  

The two of you slowly meandered, no longer feverishly searching (of course neither of you had even looked on your phones to try and find a shop for what you wanted in the first place) for your food. Slowly you started to sober up and as you did so, you started to feel the stiffer air that surrounded Yoongi at the moment. It made you sad. You two had gotten close but lately he has been avoiding you more and more. You disliked it.

“Why are you so stiff, Yoongi-ah?” You whispered out, pulling him around a corner into an empty park. 

“I am not used to you touching me. I thought that you didn’t like being touched.”

“Yeah. I normally don’t. I only let a few people touch me. Even then I have limits. I think I am ok with having you touch me. You make me feel comfortable.” Your voice was still quiet as the two of you started to cut through the park. You were moving to sit on a swing there, reluctantly letting go of Yoongi’s wrist in the process. 

“You do?”

“Yeah. I said this before, you make me feel comfortable.” You said, feeling confidence begin to surge from something… maybe the soju, “Well, I did feel comfortable… but after our near kiss… I have been feeling less comfortable.” 

“Wha- I am sorry about that. I really am. I didn’t mean to get so close, but it just happened. I am sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I really didn’t mean to. Really.” 

“That’s not what made me uncomfortable, Yoongi-ah. Why didn’t you kiss me? I want to know that.” You said, your confidence decreasing once again as you saw Yoongi’s wide eyes and agape mouth.

“I- Did you want me to kiss you?” He sounded shocked, like he didn’t think that you would have wanted that. 

“Yeah…”

“Why?”

“Well… you’re sweet, kind, caring… you like similar things to me… we have good conversations… you have nice lips…” You trailed off as you felt him grab one of your hands.

“Is this ok, Y/n-ah?” He asked shyly, sitting on the ground in front of you.

“Yeah.” Yoongi squeezed your hand and leaned closer.

“Is it ok if I kiss you?” You nodded again, leaning forward as the two of you met halfway. It felt nice. Really nice. You didn’t kiss for long though, pulling away after a few seconds, feeling your limits being pushed some. It was nice and when you opened your eyes, you saw Yoongi looking at you with some foregin feeling in his eyes. 

“I like you, Y/n-ah. I don’t want to push you too much, but I would love to have a romantic relationship with you. Those are the intentions I had behind that kiss.” He said quietly, still not pulling away as he looked in your eyes. 

“Really? I think… I don’t know what I think. I feel something… it’s positive. I think… I… Is it ok if I think about having a romantic relationship with you before I give you a response? I… I really liked the kiss… but I don’t know what I feel. I am sorry, Yoongi-ah.” You mumbled, seeing some foreign emotion flash in his eyes before he smiled and nodded.

“I understand. Please take the time you need.”

 

You woke up the next morning with a bright smile on your face. You kissed Min Yoongi. He liked you romantically. He hoped that there would be something more. You giggled happily before you thought about where you stood. You still didn’t fully know. 

Clearly you really did like him to a degree since you’re so affected by his words, but did you like him romantically? Was this just an infatuation? How did you know the difference? 

You sighed and to your back. It was another day off for you, but you didn’t think there was much you could do today. 

Maybe start looking for an editor for your book?

Maybe read something new?

Or watch something new?

But you didn’t really want to do something new. You just wanted the same old same old. 

In the end, you found yourself in a park, your trusty green notebook in your pocket with a pencil next to it. The park was bustling with people walking quickly as though on a mission, barely sparing a glance to the greenery around them. You quickly found yourself a park bench a good ten meters away from the nearest street vendor and adjusted yourself so you were sitting upside down on it. Your hair flowed languidly in the wind, slowly brushing against the mini forest below, but you didn’t focus on your hair. Instead, you found an anthill and watched as they mirrored the business of the park with their own excursions. Ants were always busy. Always living for the next bunch of food to be found. Always starving. 

Were the people walking through the park starving?

Were the vendors starving?

Were the children starving?

Were your parents starving? 

Was that one ajuma and her son starving?

Was BigHit starving?

Was Yoongi starving?

What for? 

You?

You giggled and smiled. He did want a romantic relationship with you. By now, you were most likely going to give it a try. You two kissed and it was nice…

You groaned and ran your hands over your face, you didn’t want to think about this right now. This is all an issue for tomorrow, not today. You wanted to focus on the world around you. Not Yoongi. Although Yoongi was nice. Really nice. You liked him. 

No! Think about the world! The world! Not Yoongi and his stretched, nice hands and cute smile and fluffy hair and welcoming voice and his sweet actions. You want to focus on the ants working and striving for life and… you want to live like everyone else. You sighed, finally deciding that you won’t get any work done today and walking home. It’s still early in the morning… maybe if you lock yourself in the studio at BigHit, you’ll be able to push out a song. Maybe.

 

By the next day when you clocked in for work, you had a letter in your hand. It added ten kilograms to your bag, but you needed to give it to Yoongi. It was all you did in your studio yesterday and it had all your thoughts laid out for Yoongi. He needed to know what would go into being in a relationship with you because it was a lot and you didn’t want him to get in a relationship with you if he wasn’t ready for it.

Anxiety hummed in your veins and exhaustion sung in your heart as you walked to your studio, ready to set your bag down and write while you waited for Yoongi to come to your studio. Yoongi made a habit of working inyour studio in the mornings while others were at the gym. Only, he hadn’t since your near kiss, but hopefully he would now. If not, you’d text him to get him here.

You were giving him the letter today. You had to give him the letter today. 

It was hard to stay focused on writing as you waited for 9am to come and, in turn, Yoongi to come to your studio, but you somehow managed and Yoongi also managed to make it to your studio by then. You could see his tense form as he sat down on the couch, you having taken the swivel chair. You could see how his shoulders rose and you could hear the deep inhale he took when you turned around and gave him your letter. 

“I… Read it before you give me an answer.” You mumbled and looked down, not wanting to look at Yoongi’s confused face. Surely he didn’t think you had the final say. You’d be insane to turn him down… he’d be sane to turn you down.  

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours as you waited for Yoongi to finish reading the letter. You didn’t dare look up at him the entire time, too worried. Too scared. After the kiss, you let your hopes up and it was only after you had gotten to the studio yesterday that you realized what Yoongi probably hadn’t thought through the many things that would come with being in a relationship with an autistic person: You would be a very high maintenance partner. He’d have to be patient with you, really patient. He’d have to explain every little thing he wants from you and how he feels. You were going to be a lot of work, more so because you have never been in a relationship before and you were experiencing what felt like 500 new emotions. 

You just hoped that you wouldn’t be a horrible partner. You didn’t want to be a horrible partner. 

“Y/n-ah.” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts. It sounded stern, like you were going to get a scolding, and when you looked up you saw Yoongi come closer to you, the letter abandoned on the couch. 

“Please don’t think so lowly of yourself again. I know what I was signing up for when I first told you I wanted to be in a relationship with you. Remember when we went to the park and had lunch together?” You nodded, anxiety bubbling in your stomach like a witches brew, “When I got back to the dorms, I stayed up all night just reading about autism. I don’t know everything and there will be times that I will need your help with understanding you, but I do want to be in a relationship with you. I am glad that you thought so much about me, but please know that I know what I was signing up for. I’d still love to be in a romantic relationship with you.” His voice was soft now and you saw his hand twitch. 

You said nothing. You just looked in his eyes, feeling the witches brew in your stomach erupt into butterflies. 

What was this man doing to you?

Why did you like this. 

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n-ah?” 

“I-I-I feel… happy? I… I have butterflies in my stomach. I like them there. You conjured them I think? I… yeah.” You said, a small smile forming as you kept talking.

Yoongi’s shoulders sunk a little as he smiled at you, “I am glad you’re happy, Y/n-ah. I am happy to. I feel those butterflies in my stomach too,” He leaned back and patted his stomach with a laugh, “What I am thinking right now is that I would love to hold your hand and take you on a date.”

“I think I would like both of those things too, Yoongi-ah.” You said, reaching out and linking your pinkies together, a larger smile forming on your face, “But this is all you get hand holding wise.”

He laughed, a gummy smile on his face as he squeezed your pinkie, “I’ll take it. Now, the date, what do you want to do for that?” 

“Why don’t we use our lunch breaks to go on a date? There’s a bibimbap restaurant near here that’s really good.” You asked, looking down at your intertwined pinkies as heat rose up your neck.

“I like the sound of that.” 

 

All of BTS was in your studio’s recording booth, sitting on the floor and looking over two of the latest songs you had written. You wanted to get their input on them before sending them to Band Shi-hyuk-nim. He wanted to see the songs first, but you wanted everyone singing the songs to actually have a say in their work. You sat in between Yoongi and Jungkook and they looked over the work, unreadable faces critically judging your livelihood… well you wrote them in an hour and composed both of them in a day or two but still. Your whole life was built around writing and them looking at your work never got easier. 

“I really like them, Y/n-sshi.” Hoseok said, breaking the silence, “I think that the beats have potential to be really good and the lyrics themselves seem like they are going to be very catchy.” He said as the heart like smile you have seen time and time again now formed.

“I agree. The beats seem like they would be fun to dance to.” Jimin said, giving you a thumbs up.

“Personally, I think that the lyrics may be a little two dementional.” Namjoon said flatly, eyes still glued on the sheet.

“What do you mean?”

“First off, correct me if I am wrong, but I am assuming that you brought us here so we can criticise and help shape the pieces you will be showing Bang PD-nim?”

“You’re correct. I want you all to have a say in the pieces.” 

“Well then, I feel as if the songs are a little too… focused on love. In your other pieces, you seem to center your songs around allegories, but these songs seem to have very similar messages around them and it is just love. Nothing hinted at to help one see a hidden message.” 

“I agree. I like them, don’t get me wrong. I just feel as if the songs are a little worse than the other work of yours we have gotten.” Jungkook said, lightly patting your shoulder as he did so. 

“Personally, I don’t think that the songs being more flat is a problem. People still like them and what’s wrong with a love song? We have done a lot of songs with meaning lately, not every song has to be super meaningful. Love is important too.” Taehyung said, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke slowly, “I think that the simplicity of love songs are beautiful too. Why do we need meaning behind all beauty?” 

“Taehyung has a point.” Yoongi muttered, looking shyly at you, his neck a light shade of pink. 

Namjoon looked shocked, “You think so, Hyung?” 

Yoongi nodded, “Maybe we can work with you more and try and get a song we mostly wrote as the title track and have these songs elsewhere on the album.”

“I think that can easily be done. You two work together a lot.” Jin said, smiling broadly at you. 

“I work with her a lot too!” Jungkook said, “She has a lot to teach us!” 

You laughed lightly, “I think we can easily polish some of the songs you all have written and try to get one of them as the title track for the next album. They’re really good songs.” 

“Ok. I am glad we figured this out. Do you think you could hold back on showing these songs to Bang PD-nim until after we show some of our songs that you help us with, Y/n-sshi? I don’t want him to assign one of your songs as the title track without even seeing ours.” Namjoon said, already standing up to leave. You nodded, smiling and waving everyone goodbye as they got up. 

“You all go ahead, I want to ask, Y/n-ah something before we are stuck in dance practice.” Yoongi said, moving to sit on the couch as you went to sit on the chair. 

“What did you want to ask?” You asked once everyone else had left your studio.

“When did you write those songs?” Yoongi’s face was almost completely unreadable as he looked in your eyes.

“Maybe a day ago?” You said and raised your eyebrow at his question. It made nearly no sense.  

“So, after our date?”

“Yeah.” You were confused, even more so when he smiled broadly and looked down, “But what does this have to do with music and songs?”

“I am just glad you feel that way because I felt that way too after our date.”

“Do you still feel that way now?” You asked, scooting closer to him as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

 

You looked down at the musty carpet of your studio, some negative feeling filling you. It was the second or third time since Yoongi and you had started dating that Jungkook has come to you for help with producing music, and each time you have felt this emotion. You didn’t like it. 

It felt similar to when you had hidden stuff from your mom or ate something you weren’t supposed to. You had identified it as guilt before, but what did you have to be guilty about? You weren’t doing anything wrong, unless the constant push of your comfort zone was something wrong. The most you ever did wrong at BigHit was work on your book while on the clock but you spent so much time here working on music off the clock that you didn’t see a reason why that would be a problem. Could that be a problem? If so, why were you only feeling it when you were around Jungkook… and Namjoon… and Hoseok… and any other member who would work with you. You didn’t feel it around Bang Shi-hyuk either. Just around… all of BTS other than Yoongi.

Was it because you were in a relationship with him? 

Surely they knew… why wouldn’t they know? But if they did know-

“Noona? Were you zoning out again?” Jungkook broke you from your thinking as he looked at you from your swivel chair. 

“Hm? Yeah, I was.” You said in a monotone voice. Maybe they really didn’t know. 

“I get that. Well, not to the extent that you zone out, but I do get it. It’s easy to go into your own world.” He smiled at you, fully turning around to face you on the couch. 

You laughed awkwardly, “Yeah. Day dreaming is a good coping mechanism.” 

“If you’re… willing to say, what were you thinking about?” He asked, eyes wide with curiosity. He often asked you this but this time you were caught off guard. 

“I don’t know if I am willing to… It is less whimsical than normal. Just me thinking about some real life things.” You tried to laugh but it sounded strained. Will he think you’re stressed because of that laugh?

“Real life things? I didn’t know you got lost in thought about them? What things, apart from what you’re thinking about now, do you think about?”

“Well,” You trailed off, what could you say? He was right that you didn’t normally get lost in thought about real life things. They felt more cut and dry than this. Your neighbor was loud so you gave them a letter to ask them to be quiet and added more sound proofing. The closest location of your bank was a long way away so you found an atm with a low tax on it. You didn’t normally think too much about them.

“Ah. Nevermind, we should focus on me learning this program instead.” Jungkook said, waving dismissively at you before turning back around and asking some more questions about how to properly overlay sounds together. You tried to focus on that for the rest of the time he was there and you wouldn’t have worried too much about it all if it wasn’t for the fact that when you got home, there was a text message from Yoongi asking if you were ok. 

Of course you were.

Why wouldn’t you be? 

Was there a reason you wouldn’t be?

Turned out, Jungkook was worried about you and told the rest of BTS to just let you be for the rest of the time they were there. It also turned out that Yoongi didn’t fully believe you… which lead to him coming over to your apartment and eating a midnight snack with you. Only feeling like his job as a boyfriend was complete when you finally told him what you had been thinking about. After that, the two of you watched a show but the entire time you could tell that Yoongi wasn’t fully there. His mind was in the clouds as he thought of something else. 

What? 

You were tempted to ask but you worried that asking would only make his thoughts worse. What if him not telling his band members, a group of people who were practically his family, was a sign that he didn’t really take the relationship as seriously as he had initially implied? What if he was contemplating breaking up with you just so that you wouldn’t accidentally tell them? 

You ended up not sleeping that night due to your thoughts and you were very tempted to call in sick the next day because you were just so exhausted.

 

In the end, you did go to work only to be exhausted all throughout your day. You didn’t nap. You couldn’t nap. You saw the worried expressions on others in the company but tried hard to act like you didn’t. Everyone you worked with knew you were on the spectrum by now and that seemed to make them worry even more. They doted on you when you were out of the studio in ways you hadn’t been doted on since high school. In fact, you were currently being doted on by all of BTS who had forcefully removed you from your studio to go to some random restaurant nearby for dinner. 

You felt awkward sitting in between Jin and Jimin who were doting on you most. They went as far as to ask you what you had eaten today and how long you had slept (both of the answers were “I don’t know” as you simply lost track of time). The two were saying that you looked skinnier and more gaunt, which you didn’t think was true. In general, you had been eating and drinking the same amount as you normally do… It was only recently that you were not eating and sleeping much. You rarely even change your habits enough to have some sort of large change in weight. They had also decided on what you’d eat for you, which you only ate when they shot you worried looks. The strange soup went down slowly and caught in your throat like glue. It tasted like vomit to you and all you wanted was a small dish of kimchi fried rice. This strange soup was not what you wanted. 

“Can we get another bowl of rice, Ajuma?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Jin hyung, Jimin-ah, did you two ever think that she isn’t eating much of the soup because she doesn’t like it?” 

“Why wouldn’t you like it, Noona? It’s a traditional soup that originated in Busan.” Jimin asked, looking at you with a large pout on his face.

“So what if she doesn’t like it! She’s clearly sick and needs to eat it! It’ll help!” Jin whined, “Right, Y/n-ah?” 

You opened your mouth and closed it, “Mihanae, I really don’t like trying new things much…” was all you could get out, looking down, a feeling of guilt filling you at letting them down. You heard a small amount of movement before you jumped as Yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder. 

“Would you rather some rice? Maybe some kimchi?” He asked gently, looking into your eyes with clear concern. All you could do was nod before looking away shyly. Why was he being so affectionate in public? Didn’t he want to keep your relationship private? If he hasn’t told everyone else at the table about your relationship why is he acting this way?

He set down the food in front of you before sitting in his original seat across the table from you. You slowly ate the rice and kimchi, feeling strange as all of BTS looked at you. It wasn’t the best kimchi you’d ever had, the pieces too small and bland for your liking, but you took what you could get and kept eating it. Eventually you heard the others go back to eating what they had and you spared a glance towards Yoongi. He was looking at you, a small smile on his face. You simply smiled back before looking at your food again. 

Soon enough, Jin had ordered even more rice and kimchi for you to eat and was pressuring you to eat more than you would normally. The extra food stretched your stomach uncomfortably and made your stomach cry for you to stop, but you didn’t because Jin kept pushing you to eat more. In the end, you ate two bowls of rice and two plates of kimchi before you had to refuse to eat any more, your stomach feeling like it will burst. Of course, this seemed to worry Jin and Jimin more. The two of them seeming to not take the fact that you have a tiny stomach as an answer. It wasn’t until Jungkook butted in to tell them to drop it that the two moved on to talking about what desert the table was going to order. 

You groaned, “Can’t we just get the bill and leave? It’s late and that is a lot of food to add onto dinner.” 

Hoseok laughed, “Y/n-sshi, you must really not move much during the day! We’re still starving, but if you really want you can leave. This dinner will be our treat.”

“Yeah! You can’t offer her that! It’s very dangerous at night! Seoul is a dangerous place!” Jin shouted indignantly, “What if Y/n-sshi takes you up on that offer and ends up dead in a ditch the next day!” 

What?

Your eyes widened.

That was a large possibility?

You shook your head.

Why was it a possibility now and not any other night you’ve walked home?

Was it?

“Y/n-ah, ignore what Jin hyung said. I was planning on walking you home one way or another, you’ll be safe.” Yoongi said, his voice quelling your fears as it had always done. Everything was going to be ok. You sighed and nodded.

“How can she trust you, Yoongi-ah? You’re just some work partner who talks to her informally! Statistically speaking you’re more likely to hurt her than a stranger!” Jin shouted again and your eyes widened again, your head shaking. 

“Y-You are?” You asked, looking at Yoongi with wide eyes. 

He simply laughed and shook his head, “Now, Y/n-ah, would I be a good boyfriend if I hurt you? Personally, I don’t think so. Besides, why would I want to hurt you?” 

Suddenly the table burst out in a series of “Bwo”s as everyone looked between the two of you with something… shock? Confusion? You didn’t quite know… written on their faces. You blushed and looked down at your empty plate instead of meeting their questioning stares while you heard Yoongi laugh. 

Did he really just reveal your relationship to them?

Why was your heart beating so quickly at the thought of him revealing your relationship? 

Did you like that he revealed it? 

You think you did. It meant that he was serious about the relationship… right? 

Right. 

You smiled shyly and nodded, “You have a good point, Yoongi-ah. Although… nevermind.” You giggled lightly, barely gathering the nerve to look at his eyes before looking down again. 

“No! What?” Hoseok asked loudly, looking excitedly at you.

“I was just gonna say that I don’t know what a good significant other would be.” You mumbled quietly, feeling heat spread along your cheeks.

“A good significant other doesn’t pressure you and is willing to take things at a similar pace to yours.” Yoongi said, smiling at you, “Which I hope I am doing.”

“Wait- How long have you two been dating?” Namjoon interrupted, a strange expression on his face.

“Probably a month and a half now, why?” Yoongi asked.

“We’re still under the dating ban. It won’t lift for a while.” 

“You all have a dating ban?” You asked, you were shocked and weirded out. Why would they not be able to date? Don’t most people date to find someone to share happiness with? 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n-ah. I have been trying to get the ban lifted for a long while, I am close to it.” 

“But it’s still there. Your relationship could be a risk to both of your jobs. I mean, really. If you were-”

“I think I want to go home now. I hope you all enjoy your desert.” You interrupted and stood up, feeling worse than before. 

“I’ll take you home.” Yoongi got up too.

The ride back to your apartment was tense, neither of you speaking. You didn’t want to speak. You didn’t want to think but here you were thinking. Why did it seem like so much was pushing against you feeling right in the relationship?

“We’re here.” Yoongi mumbled and you unbuckled yourself. You saw Yoongi move in the corner of your eye before stopping, “Y/n-ah?”

“Yeah?” 

“I… I am sorry for not telling you the risks that I carry like you were kind enough to do for me.” 

“It’s ok, Yoongi-ah. I understand that it can be hard to think of what the other person knows and doesn’t. You probably thought that because I had thought so much about my issues that I’d have also thought about your issues too.”

“I guess I might have. I honestly thought you knew, but looking back, I know why you didn’t.” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to break up because of this? I can tell how anxious you are about it.” 

“I honestly don’t know, Yoongi-ah. I think I like you. Really. I’ve been really enjoying this past month or so with you… but I need my job. Can I have some time to think through this?” 

“Of course.”

 

It had been two days since the “fight” with Yoongi and you had finally gotten to sleep for more than an hour the night prior… which was why you had gone to work today. Not that you were properly functioning during the day, and all your interactions with BTS have felt more awkward. What was worse was that Yoongi had tried to keep his interactions with you to a minimum. It hurt to not see him as much as you had before and all you wanted was to sit with him and be… but you couldn’t. 

At least now the bad feeling you got around the rest of BTS was gone. 

Still, you tried to push yourself to help them as much as possible. It was hard though as they all seemed oddly apologetic for some reason you didn’t know… that was until an hour into your session with Jungkook.

“I am sorry, Noona.” He blurted out after five or so minutes of him just staring at some random project he had been working on.

“What? Why?”

“It’s because of us that you and Yoongi are fighting. I am so sorry. I know everyone else feels bad about it too.” He looked like a sad puppy and you felt a tug on your heart. Was this guilt for making him and the members feel bad?

Jungkook continued, “If we were just happy for you two a couple nights ago, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. If we had just asked some about the relationship and moved on, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Jungkook-ah, it’s ok. Really. In all honesty, I was already questioning some things in the relationship, this both quelled and added to those questions. Given, I was worrying alone before and now Yoongi is worrying too, but still. Besides, it is important for us to consider.” You said, hoping that a calm and collected tone would calm Jungkook down.

What was a “calm and collected tone” though? 

You didn’t fully know but you tried to emulate how Yoongi and your brother often talked to you when you did something stupid. 

“I-”

“Seriously, Jungkook-ah. It isn’t really anyone’s fault. We would have had issues about this even if it wasn’t brought up two nights ago.” You tried to look at his project again but he turned around on the chair to look at you.

“Will you and Yoongi hyung break up because of what we brought up?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide as he looked at you. 

“I don’t know.” You said, a large sigh leaving your mouth, the same stress that kept you up these past nights flooding you again.

“Please don’t!” 

“If it were completely up to me and my emotions, I don’t think we would break up, but it isn’t that simple, Jungkook-ah.” You sighed again, nodding your head and giving into his probing eyes, “You see, if management finds out, which they most likely will, at least one of us is going to lose our jobs. I honestly have no real idea who will but I do know that I don’t want either of us to lose our jobs.”

“You can always find a new one!”

“I am autistic. I didn’t say I was when I applied here. BigHit has been far more accommodating than any other place I have ever worked at and I know many places aren’t big on working with autistic people. Yoongi is an up and coming idol, even if he is dropped from the company, a scandal will haunt any career he might get and being dropped could hinder his ability to get another job. He’d lose his home too.”

“Well Yoongi hyung did say that he was close to getting the dating ban lifted!” 

“How close, Jungkook-ah? Do you know? Because apparently he has been trying since he signed which means that ‘close’ could mean a year.” You nodded your head and took a deep breath in, “I just need to think this through, ok? Now, let's get back to your project.”

 

It was almost a week after your original “fight” with Yoongi that you finally reached out to him again… which lead to the two of you sitting across from each other in a small cafe, the tension between you two extremely palpable. Yoongi looked worried and the bags under his eyes hinted at the possibility of him not sleeping well in a long while. 

“I want to continue with our relationship if you still want to.” You said after the waiter left the table.

Yoongi’s shoulders fell and he sighed deeply, “Thank god. I was worried that you wouldn’t want to.” 

“Honestly, I was very close to wanting to put a stop on our relationship, but I think I like what we have too much to want to stop.” You stopped to take a sip of your coffee, “Plus, I was trying to think of what they would do and can’t think of something that would be extremely beneficial to them and be a real punishment to us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re an up and coming idol. If they cut you, I am sure that fans will be mad and your members won’t be quiet. If they fire me, they’re out of a top song writer who put their up and coming band on the top of the charts. They can keep me on roster and simply not give me hours, but I am able to quit whenever I want since I am a salary employee and I can easily just write for my book in the meantime. They can decrease your role in BTS but they can’t do much to make you not stand out… you just do naturally.” You shrugged, “Unless there are legalities in your contract that I don’t know about, there isn’t too much that they can do that will hurt me much.” 

“Wow, you really thought hard about this.” He looked relieved as he took a small sip of his americano. You just hoped that he really thought you were extremely sure of this. Of course you weren’t, but you didn’t want him to still worry about this situation.

“I wanted to be sure that what I was getting myself into wasn’t going to wreck my life or yours.” You said, nodding your head as you smiled at him.

“The debt of having a broken contract might ruin my life.” A dry laugh seemed to be squeezed out of Yoongi as he smiled back.

“But a small company who only has one band isn’t going to do much to risk the band.” You sighed, “Now give my your hand. I’ve missed holding it.” Yoongi laughed, this time happily, before he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I think that I am also only one month away from convincing BigHit that the dating ban is wrong as well. There’s a lot going for us, really.” He said, smiling happily and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. A shiver ran down your spine. You smiled happily at him. 

“I agree,” You smiled back at him, “Should we finish our drinks and go somewhere more private?” You took another sip of your drink, seeing Yoongi’s neck and cheeks flush red.

“I don’t k-know if you understand the connotation of what you just said, Y/n-ah.” He coughed, “I don’t think you meant it that way. Uhhh… normally that sentence is used when you want to… have… uhhh… with someone.”

“Omo! Omo! Ani! That isn’t what I meant at all! Ani! Ani! Ani!” Your face went red and you shook your head, “I don’t want to have anyone catch us what with your dating ban and all. Some of our other dates have been in private rooms or in empty parks and whatnot. We haven’t really had a date in such a public place.”  

Yoongi laughed, “I guessed so. Especially since we’ve barely gotten past holding hands, not that I care.” 

You laughed, happy that he still cared about what you wanted, “We will eventually get past the holding hands phase… I just need time to acclimate.”

“I really don’t mind, Y/n-ah.” Yoongi said, standing up with his cup and leading you out of the cafe. The two of you meandered through an empty park, laughing and talking and overall just having a great time. It was refreshing and made you very happy. You enjoyed every second of it. You enjoyed every second of being with Yoongi.

Rules be damned.

You’d stay by his side for as long as you possibly could.

 

A happy giggle left you as you grabbed Yoongi’s hands. The two of you had gotten sleeping bags the night prior and had been “camping” in your studio apartment as part of your date. When you woke up your feet were tangled with Yoongi’s while the rest of your bodies were still separated, as if even while he was asleep he still respected your boundaries, and you loved it so much.

Loved?

When did you learn what that means? 

Love… it was what you felt for Yoongi and if it weren’t for your annoyingly high boundaries, you’d have gone farther than cuddling for half of a movie. You loved Yoongi. 

You bit back a large smile.

You loved Yoongi.

You knew you loved Yoongi.

Half an hour after your revelation, you squeeze Yoongi’s hands and get up, set on making some breakfast for the two of you. You didn’t make much. Just some egg, fruit, rice, and kimchi. That was it. You didn’t really cook much but you wanted to for Yoongi and soon enough, you had a tray full of food  waiting to be eaten. Waddling back to where your sleeping bags were set up, Yoongi had sat up and he looked confused and slightly disoriented. Overall, he was still his same cute self and you bit back a smile at his sleepy face. You laughed lightly and set the tray down between the sleeping bags, sitting across from Yoongi in the process.

“Good morning, Yoongi-ah.” You said happily before you leaned over and pecked him on the lips. He looked shocked that you initiated a kiss but smiled at you and mumbled something that sounded like “Morning, jagi”. 

“I made us a little food.” You said, handing him a pair of chopsticks.

“Looks good. Thank you, Y/n-ah.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, just eating the food you made on the sleeping bags. You ended up finishing your food before Yoongi did and you just stared at him as he ate, thinking about what you had woken up feeling.

“What are you thinking about, Y/n-ah?”

“I love you, Yoongi-ah.” You smiled, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you told him.

“I love you too.” Yoongi said, his signature gummy smile shining through. You could have stared at his gummy smile forever, just basking in Yoongi’s presence as well as the feeling of love that you were feeling towards him. You probably would have too if it weren’t for Yoongi slowly raising his chopsticks to your mouth, a juicy piece of watermelon in their grip, “Now eat. I want to be sure that you’re healthy, jagi.” 

You laughed before opening your mouth and accepting the watermelon, feeling happy, loved, safe, understood. It felt amazing. Wonderful. You knew that with Yoongi by you, you couldn’t fail. That he’d always be a safe space for you while in this hectic world. That he loved you.

And you loved him.