You fell for Min Yoongi, hard, and you thought the feeling was mutual.
But you were wrong.
He never cared about you at all.
[FORMERLY KNOWN AS THE WAY WE WERE]
• • • • • • • •
Smut.
Fluff.
Angst.
Slow burn.
Strong lang...
"Sit still," you huff, trying to wipe the corner of Jimin's eye with a q-tip. "You've made me mess up twice now."
"Sorry," he chuckles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you coming tonight?"
"Maybe," you smile tightly, finally fixing up his look for the stage. BTS is performing at an awards show today and you just finished his makeup with only two minutes to spare since Jimin doesn't know how to stay in one place. As usual he looks hot as fuck, his dirty blonde hair slicked back, contrasting with his beautiful honey skin tone. He's dressed in a white button down tucked into black slacks, a simple outfit somehow making him look like a Greek god.
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You've been a Hybe employee for about five years now, but you were only promoted up to one of BTS's makeup artists around six months ago — specifically Park's Jimin's makeup artist. You specialize in girl group makeup, but your style works well on Jimin's face since he's so good-looking, aesthetically rather effeminate.
His old makeup artist ended up falling in love with him and had to quit, and Jimin specifically requested you to be his new person, knowing there was no way you'd fall in love with him. And that's because you accidentally found out a huge secret about him that only the other members and a handful of staff members know.
He's gay.
You walked in on him kissing Jeonghan in his dressing room one day, thinking it was someone else's. Of course you kept it to yourself, not saying a word to anyone else. BTS is at the height of their career right now; Jimin's sexuality would damage their reputation greatly. You also want it to be his decision if he ever decides to come out.
He actually didn't find out until later that you saw him, and he apparently searched for you for a few weeks but had a hard time finding you since he didn't know your name. But he knew he could trust you since you kept quiet without any sort of incentive or bribe.
"You have to come," he frowns, cutely crossing his arms over his chest. "Kai will complain if you're not there."
"Kai is going to complain no matter what," you snort.
"Don't talk shit about me behind my back," a man says from behind, and you turn around to find the devil himself, your gorgeous best friend Nagasaki Kai.
"I'm not talking shit behind your back because I'd say it to your face," you roll your eyes, putting away your makeup brushes. The producer calls over all the members and you keep your eyes down on your supplies as they all walk past you, not wanting to bother them.
Well, one of them specifically.
"Are you really not coming tonight?" Kai asks, taking your hand in his. "You never come out with us anymore."
Your heart squeezes at how good he looks right now. Kai is half Korean, half Japanese with dyed platinum blonde hair and a beautiful smile. He's on the taller side and could honestly be an idol himself if he wanted, but his passion is modeling and fashion. He is always dressed up no matter the occasion, even if you're grabbing junk food at 2am. Right now he's decked out in all Louis Vuitton, a white sweater tucked into beige khakis and a charcoal plaid suit jacket.
