3! INTO THE SUN ⋆ ˚｡
pairing: idol! ot7 bts x reader ⋆˚꩜。
genre: soulmate au + smau + attempt @ humor
summary: one second, you're larping being army, and the next you're being transported to a second location where seven men claim that you're their soulmate. what is a girl to do... note: ok guys i lowkey hate this chapter but we need her for like devlopment and like sotrybuilding or whatever tf idk ok but it's a cute filler ig whatever but I have biggggg ideas for the next couple chapters so everyone get hype ok everyone who wants to be added to a tag list go like this psot pls pls pls so i dont miss anyone ok thanks ALSO chapter 4 might take a while but if you'v survived with me till now we will be alright ok
warnings: USE OF Y/N. kind of trauma later in the story, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders and my humor.
word count: 6k+
index | next
CHAPTER THREE: a little bit of this and a little bit of boom
You barely make it two steps into your apartment before you burst into tears. Whatever drugs are allowing you to feign some kind of nonchalance for your situation seem to have run their course, because all you are left with is a crippling sense of dread.
There are hands on you, but they all feel so wrong. It feels like being branded with a hot iron. Or touching dry ice. Pick your poison.
Amelia’s voice seems to pierce through whatever haze you are in. You realize you are sitting in your living room, a bag of Mexican takeout in your hands, your best friends crowded around you, identical expressions of concern etched on their faces.
You quickly sober up. The fact that you have cried is embarrassing enough. “What’s wrong, honey?” Amelia’s voice is probably the closest you’ll ever get to the warmth people describe when they are in love.
“I don’t want to do it,” you hiccup.
“Do what, Y/N?” That is Kiera. Kiera, who has just returned from Paris and from her mind-numbing PhD program. You had wanted to surprise her with her favorite food. The three of you share a common taste palette when it comes to most cuisines.
Instead, your Big Girl persona finally crumbles at the worst possible time. “They want me to move. They want me to follow them on tour. They want me to leave you,” you say. You can’t stop crying, and it is really starting to irritate you.
You are not sure what you are whining about. Seven billionaires are biologically and now legally tied to you. Mind, body, and soul. Literally. This is the stuff of fantasies and is most definitely anyone’s wet dream. Instead, all you feel is dread.
So, so, so much dread.
It is everywhere like an Elf on the Shelf.
Amelia pulls you into a hug. “Honey, we need you to give us some kind of context. We can’t fix it if we don’t know what’s wrong.”
You want to scream so badly. A rage room wouldn’t be so bad.
Except you do not have time for a rage room. Or to get back at Kiera for eating all your Pickle Popcorn. Or to finally learn how to skateboard with Allie. Or even participate in your ‘Hear Me Out’ presentation night this Friday. Because you will be in Las Vegas this Friday. Because you will be touring with Bangtan Sonyeondan.
You know your negative emotions are misplaced and completely irrational, but you cannot stand them. At least you are self-aware?
“My soulmates are Bangtan fucking Sonyeondan,” you practically spit out. “And I want to fucking die.”
There is a long stretch of silence where the only sounds are the gentle hum of the AC and Amelia and Kiera’s cats engaging in some sort of showdown. Amelia nods as if it confirms something, and Kiera only blinks.
“You’re supposed to say sike,” Allie supplies weakly. Amelia’s glare shuts her up.
“So that’s where you were this morning,” she says, turning to you. They seem unsurprised by your confession, and you realize Amelia must have filled them in. You nod weakly. “They made me sign all these papers—”
“Did you read the fine print?” Amelia asks. You nod dutifully.
“And they were talking about living arrangements. Remember the concert? I had First Touch with one of them, and apparently I showed symptoms of a Touch Mark manifesting, so now I have to be around them. All the fucking time.” You groan. “Which means I have to fucking travel with them around the fucking world. Can you fucking shoot me?”
Kiera’s hands are gentle as she runs them through your hair. “Y/N, breathe in for four. Hold your breath for eight and release for seven.”
You do as you’re told. “I’m really, really scared.” Your voice breaks.
You and Amelia haven’t been apart since high school, which was over ten years ago. Your group of four hasn’t been apart for six years. You don’t even remember a version of you where they don’t exist. Where Amelia doesn’t exist. How the hell are you going to be apart for ten whole months? No, it is actually a little over a year.
And to tour with seven strangers who are clearly a tight-knit circle? It is like forcing someone into your friend group. Kiera and Allie had found it hard enough with you and Amelia.
You wonder if you could just ignore it.
Like a bug in your room or something until it eventually dies of starvation. Except, you would be the bug since the Touch Mark is actually fatal.
Your life is just one huge shit show. You wish you were at least part of some weird Truman Show-esque sitcom so you would at least be paid for your misery. Though your lack of payment over the last 25 years has a frown tugging at your lips.
“What are you scared of?” Amelia asks softly.
“Losing my independence. The setback in my career. Having seven soulmates. Losing you guys.” You barely whisper the last part. There is a chorus of disagreement.
“I can’t promise you anything about the rest, but I can promise you that you could never, ever lose us, Y/N,” Kiera tells you. “Love is never just about a boy, remember that,” Allie says.
“Yeah. You just told us that you basically homewrecked Kiera and me. We still love you.” Amelia says, her eyes dancing with amusement. You let out a scratchy laugh.
“Technically, I won before there even was a competition. Divine intervention and all.” You grin.
You feel the atmosphere lighten and your mind ease in a way that it only ever does with them.
“I can’t believe you get to say Yoongi married you,” Kiera says, mock-annoyed.
Shit. You guess you can.
You laugh. “How long do I have left till ARMY gets my ass?”
“Thirty minutes,” Allie tells you solemnly.
“Not if I get you first.” Kiera giggles, pouncing on you to tickle you. You’re a mess of laughter and tears, begging for mercy as Amelia and Allie join in as well.
You are hit with such overwhelming affection for the girls in front of you that the prospect of having to leave them leaves you off-kilter.
Allie is the first to leave the cuddle pile. “We still need to go shopping,” she informs everyone. Everyone groans.
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, otherwise I’m putting all of you on Keto.”
The three of you practically run downstairs to the car and wait patiently for Allie.
Amelia curses her under her breath. “She knows I fucking hate quinoa.”
“I think we all do,” you say sympathetically.
“What was that about quinoa?” Allie asks, getting in the car.
“Don’t fucking buy it or I will hire a hitman.” Amelia says, dead serious. Allie giggles, “Keep going, I’m so close.”
“Ewww! You have cooties!” Amelia whines.
You burst into laughter. “She’s not asking you to jerk her off, by the way. FYI. Just so you know.”
“Please leave for Vegas now.” Amelia says. “I can’t wait to have your ass out of the house.”
“And when the dishwasher almost floods our home again, you’ll remember me and my plumbing skills and wish I was home.” You say.
“You made it worse, by the way.” Kiera chirps from the front, because everyone asked. “We had to call a plumber.”
You squint at the girl. “And who almost burned down their hotel room?”
“Bruh, I’ve never used a European stove. That shit is wacky.” Kiera says.
“I can corroborate,” Amelia chimes in. Because yet again, everyone asked.
Were your friends becoming schizophrenic? They seem to be answering to calls that no one else can hear. You feel a hint of amusement down the bond and you jump. You almost forgot about your Mind Mark with Yoongi. You wonder if there’s like a range for how long you stay connected to Yoongi. Did telepathy work like bluetooth?
“Wait, what are you doing for work?” Allie asks suddenly, as she pulls out of the garage. You blink. “Pardon?”
“When you’re on tour,” she clarifies. “Obviously, you’re not going back to Patricia, but what can you do?” Patricia was the owner of the salon you used to work at. She was an evil, evil woman whom you’d banished from the realm of your mind the second you’d quit.
“Oh! They offered me a job as their make up artist but I have to go through the application process like everyone else. If not that, they’ll create an internship position for me at the very least.” You mutter, clearly unenthusiastic about your job opportunities.
Amelia and Allie frown.
“What could you possibly intern in at HYBE?” Amelia asks. You shrug. “Hell if I knew.”
Kiera hums thoughtfully. “Think of it as a customizable experience. They obviously don’t have any set rules since it’s not even an existing position yet. I’m sure they’ll let you decide what you want to indulge in.”
“You can totally ask to work in cosmetics only!” Amelia says, catching onto Kiera’s line of thought. “You might as well make the best out of your experience. It’ll give you a good grasp in the K-industry if you want to work globally.”
You nod thoughtfully. “I was thinking that too.”
Amelia and Kiera share a grin.
“If you’re Bound to BTS, there’s so much you need to know.” Kiera sighs.
Your eyes widen in alarm. “I did my research thank you.”
Amelia snorts beside you. “I promise you, you cannot possibly have found everything.”
Kiera nods. “We’ve been here since debut basically. I promise there’s always some video you still haven’t seen.”
Your soulmates’ digital footprint seems to be bigger than the entirety of Russia.
“For starters…”
The rest of the trip is spent with you trying not to jump out of the car from either mortification or just the deeply instilled urge to end it all and Allie betraying you by pitching in sometimes too.
⋆˚꩜。
You sit hunched over the toilet the next morning. You barely had ten minutes to digest your breakfast before it all came up unceremoniously.
You groan as your stomach turns again. All you have had is half a tub of strawberry-flavored ice cream, which your stomach has decided to remove from your system entirely. Though the ice cream did taste strange. Maybe it was expired?
Your interview is in ten minutes and you find your solace in the hotel bathrooms.
It seems that Sejin is making full use of the conference room that the hotel provides.
You shuffle back to the huge room and take a deep breath. Déjà Vu hits you like a train wreck when you walk into the room.
All the candidates sit off to one side while Sejin and an older woman interrogate them in a “room” which is basically just a secluded corner with the privacy of a few white sheets.
You hope you don’t look as bad as you feel because you are sure you are a second away from throwing up again.
“Y/N L/N?” Someone calls. You raise your hand and drag your body up to follow them.
They guide you inside the makeshift room where Sejin is seated with a beautiful woman. He nods at you.
The woman smiles at you warmly. “Hello, please have a seat.” Her English is nearly flawless.
“I am Kim Sohee,” the woman introduces herself. “Are you more comfortable with English or Korean?”
You smile widely at her, or at least you hope you do. “Either is good, I’m fluent in both,” you tell her.
Her eyes brighten and she writes something down.
“It says here that you have a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design,” she glances up. “And that you have three years of work experience at Patricia & Co?”
You nod, a little bit nervous.
Her eyebrows furrow. “Anything else?”
You try not to deflate. “No, but I’m willing to learn and I adapt very easily in any environment.” You tell her earnestly.
She writes more things down. You are far too anxious for a position you don’t even want.
“Fashion design means you already master proportion, color theory, and visual flow,” she says, opening the cover of your resume. “So show me that perspective. If we handed you a dark, cinematic concept for an upcoming music video shoot, how would you design a look that stands out under harsh, flickering dynamic lights?”
For the first time since you stepped foot into the building, you feel like you can breathe again. “I’d focus on balancing structural definition with smart texture contrast so the face stays sharp under dynamic lighting without getting washed out,” you say. “Since moody, low-light setups tend to swallow subtle details, I’d keep the base matte to control unwanted glare, but bring in targeted reflective elements—like a wet-look eye gloss or strategic metallic accents—that instantly catch flickering stage lights. Coming from a fashion background, I naturally look at the whole picture first: I’d match the undertones and textures of the makeup directly to the wardrobe, whether that’s leather, satin, or distressed fabric. That way, the makeup doesn’t just hold up under 4K cameras and heavy sweating, but actually elevates the story the lighting and outfit are trying to tell.”
Soohee smiles widely at your response. “Well said.” She glances down at her notebook.
“Tell me a little about yourself. Here at HYBE we like to foster a sense of community. How do you see yourself fitting in? What role would you play beyond the professional one?”
You wonder if you had enough money saved up for an impromptu hitman.
You clear your throat. “Beyond my design background, I’m someone who naturally brings a grounding energy to high-stress environments. Backstage visual work gets chaotic fast, and I can keep the team centered, calm, and on schedule. Because fashion design is so collaborative, I’m used to acting as a bridge between departments and connecting makeup, hair, and wardrobe into one cohesive look. Beyond my core job, I see myself as a supportive teammate who keeps the workplace energy positive, adapts quickly when plans change, and makes long shoot days feel seamless for everyone in the room.”
Soohee nods to herself, clearly pleased with your answers. Now, were you going to shoot yourself in the foot and say you had the job in the bag? No, of course not. But would you say that HYBE would be a fool to not hire you? Not on record, you wouldn’t.
“Thank you for your time,” she tells you kindly. “We will be in touch.”
You try not to deflate. That was the face of a woman who would not be keeping in touch. You nod politely and say your goodbyes.
Maybe I should run away and join the circus? You wonder, swinging your purse as you make your way out of the building.
You glance down at your clothing. Maybe she hated you because you were wearing open-toed shoes? Maybe you need to start owning more close-toed shoes.
You sigh deeply and lean your head against a pillar. Your phone chimes in your purse.
You ignore it and focus on your breathing. At the rate your life is moving, you need to invest in EFT tapping at this point.
You nearly jump out of your skin when someone taps on your shoulder from behind you. There are two men behind you, both wearing black masks that cover most of their faces and a hat of some kind.
Burglars? Why were thieves consulting you? Did you look like you were part of their organization?
You need a wardrobe change.
You squint at them, trying to send your judgment on their career choice through your stare. You are Supergirl but for feelings.
“Y/N?” Masked Man #1 says. You know that voice but your brain is too fried to place a name to it. You are desperately tired.
“That’s me,” you mutter.
“What are you doing here?” He asks again. You aren’t sure why this man is still talking to you and not actively robbing the inhabitants of this hotel blind. Were we truly so gone as a society that even thieves had forgotten their art?
You blink as realization sinks in. It is Jeongguk. And…his strange friend.
“Jeongguk!” You say like it is the answer to a 500 point Jeopardy question.
He shushes you and motions for you to follow the two of them. You do as you are told.
You’re back in the same room you were in just yesterday, only far more confused for an entirely different reason.
It seems that Jeongguk is sharing a room with Jimin, which you had suspected since Jimin is sitting on the couch in the common room, barely looking awake. Who is the man with Jeongguk?
You find out that it is Yoongi.
You seat yourself on the couch a good distance from Jimin. He seems disgruntled, but when he notices you he sends you the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. You can feel your heart physically melt.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, not unkindly. “It’s barely 10:30?”
“Interview,” you mutter. “Why are you awake?”
He yawns and points at Jeongguk, who is shaking something in his room. Yoongi is in the bathroom, washing his face.
“He decided to go on a run,” Jimin explains. “I was going to go but then I changed my mind. Yoongi hyung is always ready for these kinds of adventures.”
You make a mental note of Jeongguk’s gym obsession.
You nod at Jimin in understanding. “Allie does the same,” you tell him. “When she goes on runs she makes sure to wake all of us up before she leaves the house.”
He tilts his head in question. “Allie?”
“My friend,” you clarify for him. “I live with three of my friends.”
You move a little closer to him and show him a picture. “That’s Amelia, we’ve been friends since high school. And that’s Kiera, she’s a huge fan. Lia is too, but she’s better at hiding it. Allie is here to the left.”
You are probably boring this man to death, so you hurry your explanation.
To your surprise, he asks follow-up questions. “How long have you been friends with Kiera? And Allie?”
“Lia and I met them during college,” you tell him. “Keira and I took the same economics class.”
“What did you major in?” Jimin asks you, seeming genuinely interested. You aren’t sure how much of that is genuine, so you try to keep your answers as short as possible.
“Fashion Design,” you say.
Jeongguk joins the two of you on the couch. “How was the interview?” He asks. You shrug. “I’m not too hopeful.”
They both wear near-similar frowns. Yoongi stands behind you and you startle when you discover that. He is also frowning. “Do you not have any belief in your abilities?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
You shake your head. “No, I know I’d be a great fit but—”
“Then you’re a great fit.” He cuts you off. “Don’t doubt yourself, it allows for everyone else to do so as well.”
The words settle over you. You don’t like how they soothe the ball of anxiety you feel in your bones.
You sigh and flop into the couch and soak in the energy of your soulmates despite yourself. You feel a deep sense of comfort by just being in their presence.
Jimin pats your arm. “We’re sure you did great!” He says. His touch feels like rain in a drought. The lack of energy you’ve been feeling all day and the nausea basically vanishes. But the feeling returns when he lets go of you.
You resist the urge to whine. You are not a child. You will be fine.
“Thank you, Jimin,” you tell him. “I should probably get going,” you sigh, standing up.
“Where do you have to be? We can call a driver,” Jeongguk says, moving. You shake your head. “I brought my car. I’m supposed to meet friends for brunch. Thank you though!”
You cannot leave fast enough." ⋆˚꩜。
It is around 6 p.m. when the call comes.
The four of you are watching Descendants together. You have been too exhausted to do much of anything. It feels like your limbs are made of iron every time you try to move. So you all have settled on watching a movie instead. You have been uncharacteristically pale all evening, feeling like your energy supply is quickly depleting. Amelia has even gone as far as to wonder if you have escaped the set of Twilight. You just glower at her.
Mainly because you feel a lot like Bella when she is dying. Kiera jokes that you look it. You are tired of their company. You are going to make new friends while you are on tour and they will not compare you to a postpartum vampire. You are ready to ditch these losers.
Allie wordlessly hands you your phone from the pile on the coffee table.
Namjoon’s caller ID flashes across your screen. Next to you, Kiera stiffens. You fully believe that this is just as surreal for her as it is for you. You pat her shoulder as you answer.
“Hello?” God, why are you so tired? It is as if you have been subjected to swimming across the Atlantic Ocean.
“Hey Y/N.” You do not like his tone. It is apologetic and meant to placate. Something is wrong.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, straightening in your seat. This means that Amelia, who has been sleeping on you, and Allie, who has been handling the brunt of it, both whine.
“We were all discussing with Sejin about your role while we’re on tour,” he begins. Your stomach sinks. You do not like where this is headed.
“Due to the Bonds, we don’t think it’s safe for you to constantly be in close proximity with us for such an extended period of time. People are annoyingly perceptive, and we’d rather minimize the staff that are aware of our situation,” he says.
You only hum. Maybe it is your fault. Everything seems to be too picture-esque. Too well planned. There is no way a position had opened up just as you had met these men. Fate works in mysterious ways, but never that mysterious. And never for you.
“Sejin thinks—we think—that it would be better if we offered you an internship role where you essentially do a little bit of everything. You can speak to Sejin or Soohee-noona about personalizing what you’d like to do, but that’s the best we can do.”
You try not to sound too disappointed. “Thanks for telling me.”
You hang up. There is a flurry of texts after the call disconnects.
Your hands are shaking now, and that feeling of dread comes crashing down on you like a poorly patched-up roof.
Amelia peers at you questioningly. You’d switched to Korean, so you steel yourself to give them an explanation.
“They don’t want to give me the make-up artist position. Fuck. They want me to be an…intern,” you say the word like it is cursed.
Amelia curses and Allie shoots up, indignant. She is a valiant knight prepared to defend your honor. Your heart warms for the girl. Kiera sighs. “Do you think you can talk to them? Try to negotiate? It’s still your life, Y/N.”
You shake your head. “I don’t want to make it harder or cause some kind of security risk just because I’m worried about my job.”
“But they can treat you like this for the sake of theirs?”
“Namjoon said it was for privacy concerns,” you mumble.
“I never pegged Namjoon for a bullshitter.” Amelia frowns.
“It’s okay, guys,” you force a smile. For some reason, you do not want them to think badly of the group. “Let’s keep watching.”
You do not want to dwell. You do not want to think. You just want a distraction. They seem to understand this and comply. You pretend not to notice how Kiera’s grip around your shoulders is a little tighter or how Amelia snuggles deeper into you or how Allie plays with the skin on your legs.
⋆˚꩜｡⋆
Since you have been fired before you have even been hired, you have the entire day to spend with your girls before you will be shipped away to distant lands and forced to love them through a screen.
You have seen horror stories that are less terrifying.
You lay your head against the shower door and try to breathe through your nausea. You have to tell your mom about your…situation today. Otherwise, you are sure you will be learning a whole new language to keep up with the curses she throws at you.
Though she might be slightly excited, considering she is an incognito ARMY who wakes up like a sleeper cell anytime Park Jimin is mentioned. She is oddly maternal about Jimin. You are sure if she could, she would trade you for him.
You haul yourself out of your bathroom and lie down on your bed. Exhaustion laces your very hemoglobin. It is as if someone has injected you with a tranquillizer. You hate how heavy you feel.
“Y/N!” Kiera is far too cheerful at 10 in the morning. You consider getting her tranquillized. You are sure the others would support your decision. “For your last day, we have come up with a plan.”
Amelia and Allie peek at you from behind Kiera, wisely keeping their distance from you. You have been in a pissy mood since you woke up, but you aren’t exactly sure why. Maybe it has to do with the uprooting of your life in less than 12 hours.
You nod to yourself, satisfied with your analysis.
“Is she..” Allie mutters.
“Do you think they do psychological evaluations for staff?” Amelia ponders. Kiera elbows both of them.
“Guys, I’m serious. This is the last time Y/N will get In-N-Out for over a year. We need to be supportive.”
That hasn’t even struck you. You practically shoot out of bed. “We have to go right now. Then we need to hit up the Boardwalk. I’ll even take that shady Udon shop down the street, but I want Asian for dinner.”
They all hum nervously. “We were thinking since you haven’t packed yet, we get home by six and help you pack before a karaoke session for good luck before we send you off.”
This is exactly why the four of you are so close. You would kiss them if they’d let you.
That is how the four of you have practically ordered everything you could from In-N-Out, prepared to be sick to your stomachs the second you get home.
Your phone buzzes with an onslaught of messages that you sum up to being from the boys considering the only other people that text you are currently sitting in front of you.
“I need to tell my mom,” you say, wiping your mouth after practically unhinging your jaw.
Amelia’s head whips in your direction. “Have you not? She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s literally the one that got me into BTS.”
You cringe as you remember. Amelia’s K-pop phase had been what caused your distaste for K-pop early on. Well, you wouldn’t say it was distaste but rather a general sense of apathy to the whole industry.
“Bro, she’s going to cuss you out so bad you’re going to have to wash your mouth with soap.” Kiera jests. The rest of you stare at her, the silence stretching.
You clear your throat. “Um, anyway.” You start dialing your mom’s number, and she picks up on the second ring.
“Hi, baby!” Your mother’s cheerful voice feels like a gentle caress.
“Hi, Ms. L/N!” Amelia chirps. Kiera and Allie chorus along with her.
“Hi girls! How are my girls doing? Oh my god, wait, guess where I am right now!” She goes really quiet because your mother believes you all possess some sort of telepathy to sense out her exact coordinates.
“Y/N was saying you were touring Mexico last month?” Kiera asks.
“Close! I’m actually in Brazil!” Her laugh is what you think freedom sounds like. Freedom suited her too. Your mother had decided to go on a World Tour of her own shortly after you graduated college. Now every time you call your mom, you get to play a game of ‘Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?’
It is such a thrill.
“Mama, I have to ask you a strictly hypothetical question,” you begin, bracing yourself for the worst. The girls around you raise an eyebrow simultaneously. You shudder at the sight. These bitches are weird as fuck.
“Go on,” you can tell she is cautious, so you toe the line carefully as a mouse. You are the carefulest person in the world; the word caution is astounded by your caution.
“Say, hypothetically, my soulmate is someone from Bangtan, how would you feel?” You soft-launch the idea to her.
“Do you want me to actually consider this?” she asks. “Yes, please,” you squeak.
“In that case, I would be a little conflicted.”
You frown but wait for her to continue.
“Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t be happy for you. I hope you find love, soulmate or not, baby, but I would be a little worried. Not just because of the whole soulmate situation, but more about the fame. I know you, Y/N. You would take every hate comment to heart; the pressure would get to you. I don’t want that life for you.” She sighs.
“And besides, anyone besides Jungkook would set me a bit on edge considering the age gap. You don’t know what these boys are really like. I just..I don’t want you stuck in the same position I was eight years ago. No job, no stability and stuck with a soulmate nearly ten years older than me.”
The words hit you harder than any slap or punch ever could. She laughs. “Good thing it’s hypothetical. You don’t have to stress yourself about any of that.”
You all glance at each other before you breathe deeply. “Right, um, so, mama?”
“Yes, honey?”
“You’re going to be getting an NDA in your email inbox by the end of the week; feel free to sign it and send it back!” you say quickly. “Love you, bye!” and you hang up.
You feel like you’ve just run a marathon. Your friends look at you, horrified.
“Y/N.” Amelia hisses.
You shrug helplessly. How are you supposed to tell your mom that none of what you said is hypothetical in any sense? And that you are probably walking down the exact same path she did, except yours just seems more glamorous?
You feel like you have been misled to believe you possess ridiculously manifestation skills because you have been manifesting a bullet for 48 hours now with no avail.
“I’ll deal with it when it comes to me. Why would I chase after trouble? It seems perfectly content finding me.” You tell your friends. They only exchange glances between themselves before moving on as if nothing has happened.
You are really not excited for Friday.
By 6 p.m., you are wrestling with your suitcase. It feels surreal that 24 hours ago, you had been in the middle of a brilliant movie and now you are trying to fit your life into one suitcase.
One very, very small suitcase.
You groan, reading over Sejin’s email again. Since you are officially on the team as staff, you will have to pack like staff. Which means the tiniest fucking suitcase known to woman.
There has to be labor laws against this. Your hairdryer takes up 1/4 of your suitcase. You genuinely debate carrying as much as you can in your carry-on.
You decide against that when you feel an uncomfortable pain in your lower back.
You have been getting all sorts of random pains over the past few days. It irritates you to no end. You are only 25, but your body is acting like it is old and decrepit already.
You are sitting on top of your suitcase when Amelia comes in, her eyes uncharacteristically sad. You frown. “What’s wrong, Lia?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “Kia and Allie have the microphones ready. Are you done packing?”
You push more weight down onto the suitcase, and you struggle to close it.
“Yeah, give me a minute,” you huff. It is you versus this disgustingly bright teal suitcase that has Barbie stickers plastered all over it. You decide to embrace who you are.
If they are really your soulmates, as the universe claims, then they’ll understand.
After a somewhat successful showdown, your friends have decided to queue music ranging from ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’ to ‘Wonderwall.’
By the time the four of you are done, it is almost 8:30, and your eyes are so puffy and red no amount of concealer will hide it. So you do not even bother.
Amelia insists on driving you to the hotel. Kiera and Allie say their goodbyes at the door. You take in your home of over four years, the weird sculptures Allie indulges herself in. The handcrafted photo frames. The paintings Amelia has made. The furniture you’d all spent days deciding on because it is your first apartment and everything has to be perfect.
Amelia has tugged you down the staircase to your garage. And maybe you’ve cried the whole way to the hotel. You are not sure what the dress code is, but you are wearing Amelia’s matching set of sweats in light purple. She has your light pink set.
“I love you,” Amelia says quietly into the darkness. You are both looking at the huge building in front of you. It looks deceptively beautiful, like a siren’s song. It is calling you to your doom.
You are so dramatic. You do not really care.
“I love you so much more,” you whisper back.
“Call us as soon as you can. Let us know when you land. Please call whenever you can, I—”
You hug her so tightly you’re sure you’re cutting off her circulation. You’re crying again.
“Amelia Wren. You are my bestest friend in the world. Of course I’m calling you. I’m doing everything with you, remember? This whole life thing, we’re doing it together. You are my soulmate for all intents and purposes.” You tell her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And I’m going to miss you like a bitch.”
Amelia pushes you out of the car, but you see the affection in her eyes as you gather your purse and suitcase.
You feel an odd sense of deja vu when you enter the hotel. It feels like the first day of senior year all over again.
This time you know how to get to the boys’ room. You hope you do not look too much of a wreck as you knock. It is Sejin who allows you in, likely there to help the boys pack. He frowns as he takes you in but doesn’t say anything.
There is a flurry of activity in the living room. Jimin is scrolling on his phone with Jeongguk trying to take up space on the couch near him. Namjoon is talking to Yoongi, his face drawn. Seokjin is yelling at Taehyung about something, and Hoseok is neatly placing something in his suitcase.
You just stand at the threshold, slightly wavering on your feet. You feel unstable. Everything feels unstable. But being in this room with them mutes out the rest of the world and wraps you in a warm cocoon. And you are so, so, so tired.
You hear a loud thud, but you are not sure where it is from because suddenly the lights go out and you are falling.
You wake up to the sound of machines beeping. And something warm wrapped around your waist. You are so warm. Everything that has been plaguing your mind has suddenly become background noise. All you can hear is the gentle thrum of Namjoon’s heart beating with your own and the warmth radiating off the person next to you.
Person…next to you?
You jolt awake with a gasp. Someone behind you groans. It takes you a minute to adjust to the lights, but you realize you are still in the hotel, only you are in one of the rooms now. You look to your side and find Jimin blindly reaching out on the bed.
You blink. What the hell?
“Oh good, you’re awake!” A woman in a white lab coat grins down at you.
“Let’s get your vitals checked before we give you the usual rundown. I’m assuming you two have been recently bonded and still working through how to work with the Touch Mark?” she laughs softly.
Touch Mark?
You and Jimin?
Touch Mark?
You feel very, very faint again.
“Oh dear, stay with me now.” She mutters, taking your blood pressure.
Jimin grouses awake behind you. “What’s happening?” he mutters, blinking his eyes sleepily at you. He looks so adorable that your heart clenches. You frown and push him back down and turn your attention to the doctor.
You decide to play along with whatever information she’s been given. “Yeah, sorry. What happened?” you echo Jimin.
“Well,” she peers into your eyes with a flashlight. You try not to flinch. “When a Touch Mark manifests, you need to be in constant contact with one another for at least a few days. Otherwise, the bond will assume you’re rejecting it, which will lead to all sorts of unpleasantries! Such as the fainting spell you just had.” She moves over to do the same for Jimin.
Her smile is kind as she hands you a pamphlet. “You both seem like you’re doing okay. Anything you need will be here.”
And then she leaves the room.
You look behind you to find Jimin watching you, his head propped up on his hand.
You glance down at yourself and realize you’ve been stripped down to your tank top and sweatpants.
You lay down flat next to him.
“Congratulations!” you tell him in Korean. “You are medically required to feel me up whenever you feel like it!”
He laughs. “You realize it’s the same for you, right? You get to feel all of this whenever you want.”
He makes a show of winking at you. You turn to face the other way, rolling your eyes, suppressing your smile.
“Apparently we’re supposed to be in constant contact for a while,” you tell him, flipping open the pamphlet. “Otherwise we’re going to feel really drained. Once the Bond decides that we actually like each other, it gets more lenient.”
He hums, tracing his finger on your waist. His face is pressed sleepily into the pillow, and he gazes at you through his eyelashes. He looks so…pretty. You fight the urge to run your hands through his hair. You understand why he is Amelia’s bias; you realize.
The door flies open, startling both of you. You jerk away from Jimin, ignoring the sudden chill you feel, but he only sighs and pulls you back. “Medically required, remember?”
Jeongguk is on Jimin within seconds, pressing his face between his hands and glancing over him. Once he is satisfied, he does the same with you. He is panicked; that much is evident. You see traces of tears as his gaze burns into you.
He sighs deeply. “Namjoon hyung felt your heart slowing down,” he tells you, his voice barely above a rasp. “Yoongi hyung couldn’t reach your mind; it was like you’d gone completely silent again.”
You feel terrible. “I’m so sorry—”
Jimin makes a noise. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do it on purpose. We’re both okay. Everything is okay,” the last part is directed to Jeongguk, who only nods, his hand falling down to your left hand again.
You glance down to where he is tracing your hand and realize you have an infinity symbol on your ring finger. Only instead of being horizontal, it is vertical. You blink, because you haven’t gotten a tattoo done in over a year.
The last tattoo you’ve gotten is a pair of angel wings between your shoulder blades, a little below the nape of your neck.
You also realize he has a similar tattoo on his own finger, freshly done. Your eyes widen.
“Jeongguk…” you start, moving your hand to examine his. It is freshly done, the second skin still wrapped around his finger. You look up at him, blinking quickly. You put both your fingers next to each other.
Did this man just get both of you tatted up..? Without you knowing..?
No, you would’ve felt it. Which only means that you have a Mirror Mark.
You groan, falling back on your bed.
Jimin and Jeongguk exchange a look before Jimin pokes your side. “What is it, soulmate?”
You motion between you and Jeongguk, “We have a Mirror Mark.”
Jeongguk laughs. “Yeah, I thought you knew?”
You blink at him. “So you’re saying you have been knowing that any marks you make on your body will translate to mine from now on? And you still went to get a tattoo?” You aren’t really mad; it is kind of cute, actually, but you need to ensure it won’t happen again.
His smile reminds you of a bunny. “It’s an eight, because now there are eight of us.”
“I thought it was an infinity sign,” you say sheepishly.
“That’s kind of poetic,” Jimin says, tugging at you. You let him press his hand on your stomach to maintain some kind of contact. Then he grins. “Can we all get matching tattoos then?”
You shrug. “We are tied together for life…”
Jimin’s smile makes his eyes become half crescents, and you are so, so sure you are going to melt right then and there.
There is a knock on the door before the rest of your soulmates file in slowly. Seokjin’s face is twisted in worry as he approaches the bed. You feel your face heat up. You turn your head into Jimin’s chest. His laughter makes his chest vibrate, and you hit his chest to shut him up.
“Does hyung make you nervous, soulmate?” he teases. You twist his nipple over his shirt, and he lets out a sharp gasp.
“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks, likely having heard Jimin. You feel him nod over your head. “You’re a little too comfortable with this whole touching thing,” he hisses, playfully. You frown, “Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”
He shakes his head in silent laughter. You huff and turn away from him. To find Seokjin’s face inches from your own.
You think you stop breathing. You can practically hear how fast your heart is racing, and you think you hear Namjoon cough-laugh from somewhere. Seokjin places a hand on your forehead, and you fight to stay conscious.
Ohmygod. OhmyGOD.
“You’re so flushed, do you have a fever?” he asks, clearly concerned. You want to die. You hear Yoongi snicker.
“No hyung, she has a different type of sickness.” Jimin teases. You were going to beat his ass.
You shake your head shyly at Seokjin. “Just tired,” you mumble. He nods to himself and looks over Jimin. Satisfied, he moves away and allows anyone else to observe the two of you. Personally, you really need to pee.
You wonder if you can pee before the flight. Shit, the flight.
“The flight was moved to 12, lay down.” It is Yoongi who speaks. You squint your eyes at him.
“What time is it?” Jimin asks, oblivious to your staring contest.
“10:45,” Jeongguk tells him.
“It takes an hour to get to the airport; we should be leaving soon.” You say, getting up. Jimin helps support your frame since he’s already sitting up. You just lean onto his arms and sigh at the contact.
“We’re waiting for the doctor to authorize travel for both of you,” Namjoon says. “You hit the ground pretty hard, so we suspect a concussion.”
“She said we were fine,” you tell him, not meeting his eyes. You’d been pretty rude to him yesterday, and yes, you regret it. Your frustration was misplaced, and you shouldn’t have shot the messenger. You will talk to him later, when you’re not in such a clusterfuck.
Sejin pokes his head into the room. “We’ve been given the go-ahead. We’re leaving in 15 minutes!”
You see Hoseok shuffle in, his face drawn with worry. “The doctor said to monitor the two of you,” he says. “You need to be in constant contact or you risk some kind of fainting spell. It’s because the bonds are so new,” he sighs deeply and you swear you see the aura around him change color. Unbeknownst to you, you’d been associating Hoseok’s aura to a light yellow. It seems that color changes with his mood, which is a telltale sign for an Aura Mark.
That is 5/7. You glance over at Taehyung and Seokjin and squint like you could scope out whether there was a mark there or not.
Jimin nudges you with his shoulder, pushing you forward. “Let’s go, didn’t you need to pee?”
Had you said that out loud? You bite your lip but shuffle off the bed.
In the bathroom, you find out you’ve started your period. Which means you have to open your suitcase. Groaning, you trudge out of the bathroom, past your soulmates’ inquisitive glances, and fall in front of your suitcase.
You send up a silent prayer to whoever is up there and open your suitcase. You manage to find your pads quickly enough, and after an embarrassing attempt at closing your suitcase, you just leave it ajar and go mind your business.
When you come out of the bathroom, cursing the universe, you find Jeongguk tasked with closing your suitcase.
You try not to stare as his muscles bulge when he pushes down on the suitcase, or the way his silver necklace falls out of his shirt from how he is angled. You definitely do not focus on his veiny hands.
Shaking yourself, you approach him. “I can do it,” you tell him. He shakes his head. “It’s alright, I’ve got it.”
You roll your eyes and gently nudge him away with your hips, and he complies. You sit on top of the suitcase, making sure everything is in place before you motion him below you. “Zip it.”
He cracks a smile and does as he is told. You resist the urge to coo “Good Boy” because yeah, that would be weird as fuck. Even you have limits.
You let yourself remain there and breathe in and out. In about five minutes, you are going to catch a flight up and out of here. You are not going to be back home for at least a whole year, in which you will be forced to converse with everyone you know and love through a phone screen. It strikes you that the members have to do this all the time. You don’t know how they do this as often as they do because it physically aches when you think about it.
You have a series of texts from the group chat and from each of them individually, but you can’t bring yourself to reply or even open them. You don’t want to cry.
Maybe you would try EFT tapping now.
“Ready?” Namjoon startles you. You nod slowly, getting off your suitcase and pulling your hoodie over your head. He hands you your purse before moving all the luggage to a pile in the living room.
The drive to the airport is spent with you squished against the window, a hand in Jimin’s as he sleeps on Jeongguk’s shoulder. You stare out the window, taking in the familiar streets and battling the sleep that threatens to consume you. Touching Jimin leaves you feeling like you are in a constant state of euphoria. It is like a warm chocolate chip cookie.
On the airplane, you sit next to Jimin to maintain skinship. You sit near the window again, and Jimin sits beside you. In front of you, Jeongguk and Taehyung are asleep on each other. Jimin is asleep on your shoulder when your phone buzzes again. You have about ten minutes before takeoff so you decide to indulge yourself.
LiaBear: [attached a spotify link]
Your eyebrows furrow as you click onto the link. It is to ‘Space Between’
You remember the first time you heard the song. It is your sophomore year of high school and your parents were having a really big fight. You remember sitting in Amelia’s room, shaking and sobbing. She held you tight while the two of you watched Descendants 2 for the first time. That was when you claimed it as your movie. It is inexplicably tied to yours and Amelia’s friendship. Then you’d listened to it before college decisions during senior year because you were so scared college would draw you apart.
And you are listening to it now, as you start yet another chapter in your life. Only this time, she isn’t coming with you. This time you really will have to find her in the space between.
You hadn’t realized you were crying as you stare out the window. You also pretend like you don’t feel Jimin tighten his hold on you.
wow this is acc a dumpster fire ok i hate it but WHATEVER as long as all of u like it 😐
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