Glow

Home

After a whirlwind stop in Japan, not even staying overnight, we fly into Seoul, South Korea close to midnight. Everyone is zombie-like. The stumbling is kept to a minimum with a guiding hand from a guard, the security doubled as we leave for reasons that in the midst of the chanting crowd is made very obvious. The fandom of BTS in their home country is unlike anything I've ever seen before. Even photos of the Beatles doesn't match the reality here.

I guess we were in Hong Kong, or maybe China when I almost missed the hyung line entirely. I don't know how many countries we went to. In some they only did one show, in others they seemed to hop from city to city, once even by vehicle instead of plane... I think that was Germany. We slept the whole ride, so I didn't see much. Heck we all did; I wound up helping to wake the guys when we arrived at the next hotel in the city they were performing in, the next day I think. I'm no longer sure though. All that traveling made things start to blur together.

The media was hot on our tail as we left the airport in Seoul in the usual convoy setup, but at some point we were surrounded by a shit-ton of vehicles that looked just like ours. 

It was very Hollywood the way we grouped up, shuffled around in the highway lanes, then separated into new groups. Our three blackout vans suddenly became five, then two after we got off the highway.

The densely populated city center we crawled through ignored us for the most part. With the windows up no one could see inside, so it was likely anyone's guess as to who was in the vehicles as we passed them.

Heading up a hill into a more residential area... if large apartment complexes and sky rises lined with balconies could be called residential, the guys slowly started becoming more aware of their locale, talking to each other in their mother tongue.

Yawning and stretching, jostling and joking, a few grumbles... and eventually everyone turned their eyes to me.

I had stayed silent, unsure as to what I should say, do, or expect. I don't have a place to live here, my stuff is still in storage in the States, and I really only know the guys that are in this vehicle with me. How do I say anything without sounding like a beggar, a free loader, a wimp? 

A clearing of his throat from Hoseok and I turn to look at him, trying to hide the worry in my eyes. With a tired but big grin he waves towards the window next to him as we pass some buildings that look out of place... like they belong beach side in the tropics or something.

'Welcome to our home! Oh, and your home too!' he chuckles nervously. I blink.

'But... where do I stay?' I ask simply. There's obvious confusion at my question as he turns to look at the others. A few moments of silence and Seokjin speaks up.

'You stay with us.' Cocking my head to one side I consider his words.

'I'm not part of BTS. That is the BTS dorm. I am female, you are all male. Won't it be noticed if I stay with you guys?' I ask.

'Something to consider tomorrow.' Yoongi says as we pull up to an elevator located in a garage. The access to garage itself required a scan of a card before the solid steel garage door opened up to gain access to the space. The level of security here puts American ideas on that topic to shame.

As the guys tumble out of the van and collect their luggages I follow in their wake, unsure if this is the best option or really my only option.

One of them scans their card once inside the elevator and the lift moves silently. When it opens it doesn't really go to a hallway so much as a blank wall with an access keypad. One of the guys at the front of the group fiddles with the keypad and the massive three-quarter swing door opens to let us pass through.

The apartment could be considered a loft version of a mansion. The massive space we walk into has closets lining the walls for storage, but I wouldn't have noticed them as anything else besides minimalist paneling if Jungkook hadn't opened one to store his coat and boots in it. The rest file into the next space, passing him, and I follow. As we keep walking we approach a window wall that makes the hotels we were staying in look like affordable housing. The glass wall must be close to half a football field long. The view of the city is laid out on the other side, the lights twinkling in the distance. 

There's no noise except for the gentle flow of air through a central air system, and as I do a 360 turn I see a kitchen almost as long as the window wall on the other side. The island is long and wide enough to have all of them lay down and sleep on it... without touching. It's barely balanced visually with the living room setup between the kitchen and the window wall. A freestanding mid-century modern fireplace is surrounded, but not crowded, by two couches and three club chairs. A short distance from this there's a desk and chair setup, paper and pens neatly set on it, turned sideways from the view... probably so as to get good light during the day. More space is unused than used, and as I am taking this all in Namjoon walks over to the desk and picks up a remote from a drawer. Once he's presses a button a gentle whir is heard and the whole of the window wall is slowly covered by a semi-opaque curtain. While the guys trudge to their rooms, dragging their luggage with them I stand in awe of the space they occupy, their home. 

Namjoon notices me not moving from where I stopped to look around behind them and comes back for me, dragging me by the hand towards a hallway I overlooked beyond the kitchen.

The hallway turns after two doors and I see each of them going into their own rooms. At the end of the hallway Seokjin head towards the right door, and Namjoon hauls me into his room on the left.

I guess the lights are on motion sensors because I don't remember anyone turning on or off the lights as we moved through the spaces. I would call them rooms, but up to now there really hasn't been much in the way of separation, like doors.

After sitting me on his bed Namjoon quickly turns to softly close his door. Turning back to me he walks over and squats in front of me, removing my hand from the luggage handle. At the blank look on my face he moves my chin so that I am looking into his eyes. I blink.

'Are you okay?' He asks quietly. I blink. 'Y/N, how are you?' He tries again. 

I blink, and blink, and blink again. Tears start flowing soundlessly down my cheeks. My eyes are sore, hot. My breath catches in my throat and suddenly I can't breathe. 

As my shoulders start to shake he moves to sit next to me, wrapping an arm around me. A knock on the door and Namjoon says something in Hangul. The door opens to Jimin's smiling face. As he notices me however he quickly loses the smile, rushing over to sit on the other side, at first he rubs my back, pressing against me, but as my need for oxygen finally catches up and I gasp for air he hugs me instead, arms wrapping around my waist, his head falling towards my chest. I feel his tears soaking my shirt as we sit quietly, the emotions rolling down my face and into his hair. 

When Namjoon wraps his other arm awkwardly around the both of us I can feel his tears on my shoulder.

I close my eyes to the pulsing light they are projecting... but it is comfortingly warm.