30 Day Trial
Synopsis: When you decide to move to South Korea an embarrassing, followed by an absurd situation find your life mixed with BTS in a way you could never have imagined. And a certain Wooga Squad member decided to change your life even further.
Words: 3,594
Warnings: None that I can think of.
a/n: This is based on a dream that I had about a year ago that has haunted me ever since. So here it is. Take it or leave it :) @alpacaparkaseok so I don't get chewed out for not informing you that I have posted on Tumblr again.
When you decided to do the craziest thing in your life you had no idea it’d lead you here.
You had packed up your bags (two of them to be exact) sold everything else that you could, and moved. Not across the street, or the state, but to a different country. A different continent. A different world, really. You started in Italy, and after two years and a language learned, you decided it was time to go again.
So here you are. On a flight to South Korea, chilling in first class (very much so by accident) and trying to figure out how to turn your first class seat into a bed. Unsuccessfully.
The guy sitting across the aisle from you has been watching this travesty for the past four minutes. Actually, he’s been watching you struggle for longer, but he did take a break to very slowly change his own seat into a bed, possibly in an effort to give you a tutorial of how to do it for yourself.
When the flight attendant had offered to help you twenty minutes ago you should have just said, “please and thank you” but no. Pride wouldn’t allow you to accept help before you’d even tried! The audacity!
Rather, you chose to struggle, and you’re pretty sure the flight attendants are watching and laughing somewhere as well.
You’re pretty sure you’re going to break something. There’s no way this is going to end well. That’s when you hear a throat clear behind you.
Whipping around, you expect it to be the flight attendant, back to throw some humility in your face. But, alas. It is not a smartly dressed flight attendant. Instead you’re faced with the comfortably -- but in an obvious “this outfit costs more than your life” -- dressed neighbor of yours from across the aisle.
“Can I help you put the seat down?” He says, and something tells you he’s trying not to laugh behind that mask of his.
So, like the idiot you are, you answer him by saying, “Oh, sure, I mean, if you want to. I could figure it out probably, but I don’t know that I could fit the damage bill that will happen if I keep going.”
He really does laugh then, and you switch sides with him. 45 seconds, that’s how long it takes him to magically turn your chair into a bed. 45 seconds and then he’s turned around again to see you groaning with your hands over your face.
“First time?” He asks, signaling that he’s done and you need to move.
You jerk forward and run directly into him, pushing the both of you onto your seat-turned-bed. “Oh! Oh no! I! I did not mean to do that! Oh my gosh!”
You jump back off of him and the seat, to the sound of laughter, and not just a little bit of laughter, not the polite chuckle of society, or the awkward laugh that you do when you don’t know how to approach a situation. But roaring laughter from in front of you and from the row in front of your own.
“It’s okay. Really, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, still laughing but trying to get it under control.
You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, partly out of exhaustion, and frustration, but also out of humiliation. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, please. I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m not hurt, or offended, if that helps?” And then to the other boisterous laughs he turns and just says, “Ya!”
He slowly reaches out and puts a hand near your shoulder, but not touching, “Are you okay?”
“I’m not crying,” You say trying not to wince at the obvious wobble in your voice. “Thank you for your help. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“Please, it was my pleasure.” He’s smiling, you’re sure, and you wonder what it looks like. “I’m Namjoon, by the way. It’s nice to meet you, and if you need help with anything else let me know.”
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m y/n.” You say, as you both switch sides in the aisle, making your way back to your own seats. Nodding toward his own seat turned bed you say, “Sleep well.”
You sit down and get situated as quickly as possible. Pulling out headphones to help your sleep efforts, and just before you turn on your music you hear a voice say, “Sleep well.”
You’re not sure how time went so quickly, perhaps the shame helped you to sleep better. You mildly consider trying to see if embarrassment will be your new melatonin pill, but then realize that you can only subject yourself to so much humiliation, and your quota is already met unintentionally on an almost daily basis.
But, before you know it, the flight attendant has come and helped you put the bed back into a seat, and you’ve landed at Incheon.
You check your phone only to see that your agent has called you fifteen times since you last had cell-service. Fifteen missed calls, ten voicemails, and twenty-three texts. Oh, and five emails, for good measure.
All of the messages hold the same amount of information - that you’re supposed to call her as soon as you land.
Rolling your eyes you glance at the seat across from you and see Namjoon is distracted by looking for something, so you make the call.
“Lisa, hey I was just returning your million calls. What’s up?”
”Where are you?”
“Uhm, South Korea, remember?”
”Obviously!” Lisa huffs, ”I mean, are you in the airport? Still on the plane? At the gate? Where are you physically right now?”
“Still on the plane, we literally just landed. It’ll probably take ten or so minutes to taxi to the gate. Why? What is going on?”
And then, the most absurd sentence you have ever heard comes out of the phone in your hand. ”You need a security team, someone’s going to try to kill you in the airport.”
“I’m sorry, what? That’s absurd! How much have you had to drink? Have you found the absinthe that we hid last Christmas?”
”Dammit, listen to me! We were tracking down the person that was stalking you in Italy, remember? Well they disappeared. We found the apartment they had been using, and all that was in it were recon photos, and a semi-hatched out plan to kill you.”
“That makes absolutely no sense. Lisa, why would someone want to kill me? I write books for a living. And they aren’t even political, or sketchy in the least bit. I mean, okay, my last book was about a serial killer, but still. It’s all fictional. And besides, they’re books. I’m not that well known as a writer, and even if people know my books they don’t typically recognize me. It’s not like I’m an actor or a singer or anything that is majorly in the public eye.”
You roll your eyes and stretch your neck, only to lock eyes with Namjoon. You awkwardly nod at him before lowering your voice and your head. “I swear it’ll be fine, Lisa. I’m just going to grab a cab and go to the apartment.”
”I am not going to risk your safety just because you have this weird independency complex. I’ve got a buddy that is an ex-military guy. He’s a body guard now, and a good one. He’s going to meet you at the gate, in fact he’s already there waiting for you. He’ll drive you to the apartment. Do. Not. Refuse.”
You groan audibly. “Lisa — “
”No!”She shouts at you through the phone. ”Stop being stubborn and just do this. Take it seriously for once!”
“Fine. Okay? Fine. But it’s just this once. And if you’ve informed my mother of any of this, then I’ll start looking for a new agent.” You say, only half serious about the threat.
”Thank you.”It’s such a quiet and small thank you that you almost feel bad for the stress you must have caused your friend and agent. ”My friend is at the gate, he said there are other body guards there too, sounds like there’s an idol group on the same flight. Which is good, that way there are more targets.”
“I know about the group.” You say, making eye contact with Namjoon again. “And, hey! Still people. Besides. Nothing’s going to happen. Just breathe, okay? I’ll call you when I get to the apartment.”
You hang up before she can interject again, shaking your head.
“Everything okay?” Namjoon asks politely.
“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” You say a tired smile behind your mask.
He goes to speak again when the captain comes over the PA system to let you know that you’ve docked and that there are two groups of people who need to be escorted off the flight first. You see a flight attendant walking toward you, and another toward Namjoon and his cohorts.
You nod the attendant off, grabbing your carry-on and showing yourself to the exit.
Before you even exit into the actual airport the throng of body guards catches your eyes.
“Y/N?” One of them asks, and you must admit, the South Korean Military is missing out on a very handsome man.
“That’s me. I’m really sorry about this.” You say rather timidly.
“No need to apologize, I’m happy to help.” He checks that you’re okay taking your own bag, and lets you know that someone else will grab your checked bag for you. “Okay, we’re going to wait and go with this other group, safety in numbers after all.”
“I really don’t think there’s any threat, we can just go. Plus, if there is a threat, I’d rather not put anyone else at risk.”
“We’re already at risk.” You hear a familiar voice state behind you.
“Even here? When you rake in the dough for your own country you’d think people would be a little more appreciative.” You say, turning to face Namjoon, and Yoongi.
“Even here.” And you can hear the sadness in the short sentence from Yoongi.
A couple of minutes later, you’re on your way, walking alongside the biggest boyband in the world and convincing yourself that you’re not freaking out about it, or about the apparent death threats against yourself.
You make it through the airport with no issues, thankfully, and before you part ways Namjoon reaches out to you again. “I really like your books, by the way. If you ever need a side-gig, let us know.”
You make it halfway to your new apartment when you think to check the slip of paper that Namjoon had given you. Scrawled in what is honestly some of the most beautiful handwriting you’ve ever seen, is a phone number and the word “seriously”.
***
Miraculously it had been three whole days before you texted the leader of your favorite Kpop group. You were honestly proud of yourself for not screaming when you’d bumped into him on the plane. And the fact that you held out for three whole days before texting him was a feat you never expected yourself to be able to manage. So to say you were proud of yourself was an understatement.
It had been a pretty quick exchange. Very quick, actually. You had let him know that it was you to get it started.
Y/N: Hey, this is Y/N from the flight. You may or may not remember that you slipped me your number and offered me a job?
President Namjoon: Of course I remember! I wondered if you lost my number, actually.
Y/N: Nope. Just got adjusted to my new home and have been a bit busy. You know about being busy, though.
President Namjoon: True, I do. So, you want a side job?
Y/N: That depends, is it illegal?🤨
President Namjoon: Of course not!
Y/N: Then deal.
President Namjoon: Haha okay, deal. Come to the hybe building, tell them that you’re here to see Jonathon, when you get to the front desk.
Y/N: Oo, is Jonathon a drug dealer?🧐
President Namjoon: I told you, it’s not illegal!
Y/N: Lame. On my way!
You had been somewhat surprised to get there, ask for Jonathon, and be rushed up who knows how many floors to Namjoon’s studio, where the rapline were working comfortably.
You’d surprised yourself by how comfortable you felt. You walked in smiling already, and asked Namjoon, “So, where are the drugs you need me to pack?”
He laughed, and by the way Yoongi and Hobi laughed you new they’d been in on the whole text exchange.
Your job was to accompany the boys to different schedules, to drive when needed, and mostly just to be their friend. You were okay with that. Definitely.
It’s been eight months now. You’ve been all over the country and have become very good friends with each of the boys.
You’ve moved quickly from admiration, to fondness and sometimes major amounts of frustration, for these seven men. And some of their friends.
Namely, the one knocking on the car window as you were sitting inside it. Park Seo Joon.
It had been pretty early on that you met the Wooga Squad with Tae. They were honestly so kind and welcoming that you felt like you belonged almost immediately. But this is pushing it for you.
You roll down the window slightly and Seo Joon grins. “I’m driving back with you guys!”
“Your manager didn’t say anything to me, and as far as I know it hasn’t been cleared with Hybe, so I can’t let you in the car. You know that.”
“I have my manager on the phone right now! See?” He shoves the phone through the barely rolled down window and you can hear his manager yelling through the phone.
After a quick conversation and a text to Bang PD from Tae, all of the approvals have been met, and now you’re driving back to Seoul with Park Seo Joon in the front seat, Tae and JK in the middle, Hobi and Yoongi in the back.
The Bangtan boys all seem to be asleep, but there’s no sign of Seo Joon falling asleep any time soon.
“Aren’t you tired?” You ask him again.
He grins, “No, are you trying to hint at the fact that you don’t want me to keep you company?”
“No.” You laugh, “but it’s fine if you want to get some sleep, I’m used to driving while everyone sleeps.”
“I want to talk to you though.” He replies, grinning still.
“You’ve been talking for two hours, and you still have more you want to say?” You laugh again. “We’ll be to your apartment in about forty-five minutes, so you better say whatever it is you want to.”
“You sure you want me to?” He asks, almost to himself.
You look at him questioningly, turning the music up slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You seem happy.”
The sudden observation of your emotional state takes you off guard, “Thank you?”
“Are you?” He asks.
“I mean, yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re not dating anyone.”
“And that’s a determining factor of my happiness because…?” You ask even more confused by this turn of events.
“I think we should date.”
At that you almost drive off the road. “What? How did you get to that conclusion?”
“I like —“
“No.” You say, cutting him off, and eye on the rear view mirror and the supposedly sleeping men it holds. “We are not having this conversation right now.”
“When else are we going to have it?” He insists, “They’re asleep, and it’s a conversation we need to have.”
“No, it’s a conversation you want to have. And you don’t know that they’re asleep. They fake it sometimes.” You insist right back remembering a horrifying moment involving you thinking they were asleep and singing to Stray Kids for twenty minutes.
“Tae!” He suddenly shouts.
You reach out to smack him as you check the mirror again only to see that no one even flinched.
“That doesn’t prove anything, in fact, I could argue that it means that they’re awake.”
He rolls his eyes, “Who cares if they’re awake. They know how I feel about you anyway.”
“What?” You screech. “You guys just talk about me when I’m not around now?”
“No, that’s not, I mean, sometimes? I had to tell them how I feel and make sure they were okay with it.”
“First off, who I’m with has nothing to do with anyone but me and the person I’m with. Secondly, I’m not some object that you have to get permission from them to borrow. And lastly, I would be the person that would be most important to have this information, wouldn’t I?”
“Yes, exactly! You should be in on this conversation, which is why I’m trying to have it right now!” He says, getting exasperated.
“No.” You say again, much softer this time. “I can’t be with you.”
“Can’t? Why not? What do I need to do?” He asks, pleadingly almost.
“It’s not about you as a person, it’s about your job. Seo Joon-ssi. I can’t handle the pressures of dating someone that millions of people around the world feel like they have ownership over them and their life. I can’t handle the pressure of being judged as not good enough for you, or for your fans. And above-all, I couldn’t handle dating someone, and knowing that part of their literal job is to go and kiss other women, women who are far more beautiful and successful than me. I’m too jealous and insecure of a person to handle that. So I can’t.”
Silence sits heavy between you two for a few minutes before he speaks again.
“What if I can promise it wouldn’t be like that?”
“You can’t.” You whisper.
“But what if I can. What if you just try it. Give me a month, a month to prove to you that you don’t have to worry about any of those things. We can date in secret, I’ll be picky about the roles I take. I’ll figure something out. Just give me a month.”
“Seo Joon-ah.” You say again, feeling defeated.
“One month. Please, that’s all. Just one month.”
You’re in Seoul now, pulling up to his house. You can see it, it’s only three houses down. You feel the vehicle slowing. You can’t bring yourself to say anything.
“One month.” You hear him say again, “If you don’t say anything I’m going to assume that the answer is yes.”
And then the car is stopping. It’s still one house down. You’re not there yet. But you’re not driving anymore. You’re at a standstill.
You turn to look him in the eye for the first time in twenty minutes.
You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
So he says again, “One month.”
And then, like a crazy person, he jumps out of the car and runs the rest of the way to his house.
You watch him go inside, but you don’t drive yet.
You don’t drive again until you hear Tae quietly say, “Noona?”
It shakes you out of your reverie and you just mumble back, “Almost home.” And then you drive again.
When you wake up and head to Hybe the next morning you’ve almost managed to convince yourself that last night was a fever dream. That is, until you get the first text from Park Seo Joon.
😈 PSJ: “Good morning! Day one! Let’s have breakfast!”
You don’t reply, panicking, wondering if he’s actually going through with his crazy plan of a 30 day trial.
You continue to ignore - to the best of your ability - the five texts and seven phone calls in the next hour as you hide in the practice room with Hobi and Jimin.
Then Tae comes in and bursts your bubble. “Noona! Why aren’t you answering Seo Joon Hyung? Don’t worry, I told him you were here. Did you lose your phone again?”
“What?” You spring to your feet. “No! Tae! Why would you tell him where I am! What are you thinking?”
You look around the room frantically before rushing toward the door. “I have to go. I have to hide.”
“He’s on his way up though.”
You whip around and glare at Kim Taehyung before you sprint for the pile of rolling chairs in the corner of the room, jumping behind them just a split second before the door opens.
“Taehyung-ah! Oh! Hey guys! Where’s Y/N I thought you said she was here?”
And before you can even curse them in your mind if they rat you out you hear another voice that you didn’t know was in the room.
“She’s behind the chairs.”
“Min Yoongi!” You shout, appalled at the betrayal; Much to the amusement of the rest of the boys.
“Happy day one!”
“I never agreed to this.” You say backing up into the corner as Seo Joon stalks toward you. “I never said yes to your ridiculous idea. In fact I feel like I made myself really clear over the fact that this isn’t going to work.”
“You never said no. And I told you that not saying ‘no’ meant that you were saying yes.” He grins. “One month. Starting today.”
“I never —“
“He did say that though.” Tae says, making his ’Ta-Ta mic face’ when you glare at him.
“I knew you were awake, traitor.”
Seo Joon has made it to your corner now, and he blocks your view of the other boys as he hands you flowers. “Happy day one, jagiya. I’m going to prove to you that this can work, I promise.”
