“Is he straight?”

“He’s cute, I hope he is.”

Ara smiled in satisfaction when the girl with huge, black-framed glasses cowered under her withering glance. 

“He likes Russian girls.” She said as-a-matter-of-factly to Four-Eyes. “Are those for real?”

The girl adjusted her glasses and sniffed.  “If they aren’t?”

“Then I don’t think it’s any of your business whether my bestfriend is straight or not, you pretentious little .  Quit being the ignorant fool who questions the ual preference of every single fan boy at events like this one.  Yongguk oppa said his ideal type is the smart, simple one.  Those glasses do nothing for you except make you look like an idiot.”

Ara shot the other girl who said Joon was cute another death stare before turning around, just in time to see him giving Daehyun a fist bump.  Joon was actually a Yongguk fan, but he knew how in love she was with the boy from Busan.  She smiled and gave him a little wave when he found her amongst the sea of faces, and she had to restrain herself from bouncing up and down like a rabbit on crack. 

There he was; her bias.  Daehyun was the real deal, top-of-the-list, one true love, ultimate bias.

The place was crowded with girls carrying all sorts of gifts for BAP.  Arms were filled with things that ranged from boxes of chocolate cakes to paper bags with expensive name brands and of course, Tigger in all shapes and sizes.  She puffed her cheeks and hoped with her heart and soul that Daehyun will love the brownie bites that she and Joon spent an entire afternoon making yesterday.

She had begged, threatened, kicked and screamed until her parents finally gave up and allowed her to come today.  Joon’s parents were different, once they received the results of his college entrance exams and were satisfied that he was going to have a somewhat bright future ahead, he was free to go and play as he liked.

The irony, she thought.   Here she was; a die-hard fan and she had never even been to a single concert.  She saved and starved herself to get the group’s merchandise, updated her fan fiction account regularly (8932 karma points, thank you very much, and not a single story with in it), managed three Instagram accounts with a grand total of 70k followers and sometimes even ran on only of three hours of sleep on some days to wait up for the release of new music videos.

Then there’s Joon.  A casual fan who liked BAP because they were not a bunch of idiots encouraging “ships” that he found so strange and gross.  He thought Yongguk had a brilliant mind, although he he strongly believes that the rap star needed to work on his English and maybe give up the “chyeahs” altogether.  His parents had no qualms letting him go to events like this and he could have seen a concert or two, but changed his mind last minute because her parents wouldn’t let her go.  She loved Joon.  There were lots of times when she felt that she didn’t deserve his loyalty, but she was grateful having him around because it made the fangirling business not as painful at times.

“Ara, this isn’t funny anymore.  You are obsessed with this group who does not even know you exist!”

It hurt when her mother had said that.  Of course Daehyun oppa didn’t know who she was.  Did saying it over and over change that fact?  She hugged the rolled up poster and cookie jar closer to her chest, willing the warmth of her body into these inanimate objects.  She closed her eyes and smiled.

Jung Daehyun, you’re perfect and I love you.  Oppa, I love you!

“Next, please!” She jumped and her palms became slick with sweat.  It was finally her turn.

“Wait!” It was the girl with thick eyeliner, Four-Eyes’ friend.

“What?” Ara asked.

“Well, your friend.  You said he liked Russian girls.  Is his girlfriend a foreigner then?”

Ara snorted.  “No.  That’s just the type of he jacks off to.  Excuse me, I need to go and meet my future husband now!” She skipped to the long table where six of the most gorgeous men in the history of the world ever were seated; leaving two very flustered girls behind her.

It was the strange, but in a good way.  She felt like she was moving in an atmosphere with air so thick that she had to wade her way through it, but it all happened so fast.   Zelo, Jongup and then Youngjae.  They were all very polite and she almost felt sorry for not bringing anything for them, but she had her priorities.  Only Jung Daehyun will get to taste the labor of her love.

He was still writing something on the album jacket of the fan in front of her, and she stood there not knowing what to do or where to look.  Flashes of huge, expensive cameras were starting to give her a headache and she wondered how her oppas were still not blind, having to live with this kind of job hazard.

“Hi there.”

Ara froze.  He was smiling at her, and she felt a nudge on her back.  Her head snapped to the person behind her and she mumbled a thanks. 

“Oppa…” Her face felt like it was on fire, she wanted to curl up and die right on the spot when she realized how breathless her voice sounded when she addressed him.

“Are those for me?”

She had daydreamed about this moment more times than she would care to admit.  He was going to greet her, and she would flip her hair and smile.  They would talk about some things, and she wouldn’t say a whole lot, just enough for him to think that she’s beautiful and sophisticated and not quite like the hysterical fan girls that he met on a regular basis.  He would give her his number, discreetly of course, and then they would live happily ever after.

“Y-yes…Here!” She all but shoved the cookie jar in his face and he smiled.

“You girls are making me fat! They look good.  Thank you.  What’s your name?”

Three days after she met the love of her life, Ara lay in her bed.  She refused to eat, hardly slept; a zombie looked more alive than she was.  She took a hiatus on all her social networking accounts.  In front of her parents, friends and other people, she tried her best to be normal, act like nothing’s wrong, like her world was as intact as it was the day before she finally spoke to Jung Daehyun, Busan Wonbin.

For the first time in her life, at the tender age of 18, Ara was heartbroken.

Her parents were out for the day and the silence in the house was getting to be unbearable.  She thought about calling Joon, but he was still mad at her because she had tried to hide it from him, but he saw through the act.  She sniffed as tears ran down her face, a war raging inside her if she should just drown her sorrows in ice cream, or call him already.  Only Joon can help her through this, only he can understand how she feels.

Her bedroom door opened and she sobbed even harder when Joon walked in, his face like a storm cloud.

“I’m still mad at you because you’re an idiot, but I’m here because I love you.” He said in a grumpy voice.

Joon rocked her slowly as he held her on the floor, her tears soaking the front of his shirt.  

“Did he have a booger hanging from his nose?”

She hiccupped.  “No.”

“Halitosis?”

“His breath smelled like peppermints.”

“Too much lipgloss?”

“No, he uses Chapstick.”

“Was he rude?”

“He said I was cute and asked if I was wearing contact lenses…because my eyes were the prettiest shade of brown he has ever seen.”

Joon frowned as he pulled away and looked at her face.  “Then what the hell is wrong?”

They stared at each other and for a moment Ara felt desperate, worried that even her best friend would not understand. 

“Oh…Ok.” Joon said, “Come here.  Damn it, Ara, I’m so, so, sorry.”

She didn’t know how long she cried.  It didn’t matter anymore.  Joon knew how devastated she was that Jung Daehyun was indeed the perfect, wonderful guy she had dreamed him up to be.  The way his smile reached his eyes and his lips, how she had hoped to touch them with her fingertips, and the gentle way he had spoken to her even if all that she was able to do was nod or shake her head. 

Joon knew how heartbroken she was, now that it has finally sunk in that her idol was worlds apart from the plane that she was in, that she was just one of the thousands of faces that he will never remember.  Fan fiction was just that, fiction.  Oppa didn’t give her his number, he will never reply to her on Twitter, heavens he didn’t even have an Instagram account.  She felt like a thousand tiny daggers had found their mark in her heart. 

“It’s ok, Ara bear, I’m here.”

He held her tight, as if trying to hold together the pieces that were threatening to fall apart. 

“I’m here.  I’m here and I love you.”

They both froze at how Joon had said the last three words.  She slowly moved away, wiped the tears that clung to her eyelashes and looked at him.  She gasped, as if seeing him in a different way, for the first time that they have been friends for the last 13 years.

He had a defiant look in his eyes, as if challenging her. 

“I can’t sing for nuts and there’s no way in hell I’m going to have my hair colored like that, but I’m here for you, Ara.  Always have, and I plan on being here for as long as you want me to.”

Ara sniffed and wiped her nose and eyes on the sleeves of her shirt.  She looked at Joon again and she bit her lip when she saw how his eyelashes were so thick and long, and that his heart-shaped lips looked so soft.  It made sense now, remembering those times when she would catch him looking at her in an odd way, the way he would wrap his arms around her when they would say goodbye after hanging out the whole day, how he carries around a pack of the only brand of sanitary pads that she uses because she never remembers to bring it herself. 

“Take me out for ice cream?” She said in a small voice.

Joon smiled and she marveled at how their hands fit perfectly together when he reached out to lace his fingers with hers.

 “Thought you’d never ask.”

For the first time in days, Ara smiled.  She was still sad, but Joon, her fanboy, was here now.