Tw: slight Body Dysmorphia and mentions of body image issues and negativity/insecurities
If you are very sensitive about these things then please do not read further
I have an average face, an average body, and an average mind.
There's nothing particularly special about me.
I'm just like every other average, 22 year old girl.
Well I guess that's not exactly true, because I'm the only average 22 year old girl dating Jeon Jungkook.
8:57 am
Incheon International Airport
"Baby can you pass me my phone?"
Jungkook asks as the black van comes to a halt and the driver calls out our arrival.
I quietly grasp the black Iphone (Samsung crying in the corner lmao) and pass it to him. He hums a small thank you before shoving the item in his bag and adjusting the strap in his hand.
"Ready to go?" He holds out his free hand.
I swallow the large lump in my throat and nod with a nervous smile. I take his hand and pull my bag up from the floorboard.
"Don't be nervous sweetheart, it'll be quick." He squeezes my hand and pulls me up and out of the shiny vehicle once a suited man with black glasses opens the door for us.
The screams of a thousand fangirls echo through the air, causing Jungkook to whip out a breathtaking smile for them. Just as we begin to walk across the pavement, he gently takes my bag and tosses it over his shoulder with his own. Usually I'd beam at his sweetness, but I'm too busy trying not to faint to react at all.
The first steps forward are the hardest, and the undying screams of ARMYs nearly strangles the breath out of me as we advance down the endless path to the main entrance of the airport.
I hate days like this.
Days when I have to put on a tight, fake smile on the way to the first flight of BTS's world tour.
Days when I have to pretend to be confident as I march next to my superstar boyfriend.
Days when I have to act is if I don't notice the hungry eyes on my boyfriend, and the disgusted glares at me.
Maybe if I was a supermodel this would be easier. Maybe then I wouldn't have to stare at the ground in shame as my movements cause my thighs to jiggle.
But sadly I'm not a supermodel. I don't have an exceptional body, nor do I have a picturesque face straight off of the cover of a Vogue magazine.
All I have is me. And me is not very attractive.
The flashing of cameras and numerous reporters only heighten the frightening sensations I feel as I inch towards the building.
I suck in my stomach as I notice a man recording us, not that it makes much difference.
Jungkook knows me too well though. He softly pinches my chubby finger as his way of telling me "Stop sucking in, you're perfect."
In fact, he would've told me those exact words out loud had we not been in public, surrounded by cameras and microphones ready to pick up on any and every sound we make.
However, I don't stop sucking in, concluding that whatever scolding I will get from Jungkook later is better than the thousands of comments and reports I would see later like "Pop sensation Jeon Jungkook's fat girlfriend can be seen with her stomach hanging out of her shirt at their airport appearance today" or one I've heard on more than one occasion "Ugly whore thinks she's good enough for Jungkookie oppa."
