𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 ➳ pj. [✓]

2019

2019

At the hairdresser you talk lively with the kind woman doing your hair, occasionally glancing up at the television that's turned on in the reflection of the mirror, a music-show on display.

You giggle at your hairdresser, who's excited to hear the comeback of her favorite group.

"So who is this amazing group?" You ask out of pure curiosity, but is soon to regret as you hear her answer.

"BTS!" She squeals, before jumping a little in excitement, "They're amazing!"

You smile seeing her reaction to the seven boys, knowing how happy Jimin would've been to witness this.

A sudden warm feeling spreads in your chest, a sudden pride filling up inside of you.
His hard work paid of, the now worldwide success taking him anywhere, doing that he loves to do. Perform.

What he was always meant to do.

"Do you like them?" The woman takes you back to reality, her eyes wide in anticipation of your answer.

You lick your lips, tilting your head to the side.
"Yeah— I like them." You say, your voice shaking a tiny bit as you do so.

You think back on the last conversation you had with Jimin last year in the cafè. How his eyes had begged for you to stay, his bottom lip trembling as he watched you turn the doorknob and leave him behind. You had spent many sleepless nights thinking about him, wondering if you were on his mind as well.

Before you know it, your hairdresser runs to grab the remote, turning the volume on the television to its highest as soon as BTS hit the stage.

Their suits black and staging a colorful pink, the song upbeat as they dance so energetic, their moves taking all of your focus.
Jimin struts around on stage, your eyes following his every move, his hair a gorgeous bright pink color — his passionate eyes boring into yours.

As the performance ends, you catch yourself in smiling so wide, the hairdresser already jumping around trying to learn the steps to the hard choreography.

You giggle, before she calms down again, retreating to the chopping of your hair.

With the volume still up on the television, your attention is brought back to the soft voice of Park Jimin himself.

They're being interviewed after their performance, his light-pink hair sweaty, his upper lip glistening a little.

"ARMY, thank you for your support. We love you!" He says, a bright smile planted on his lips, before running a hand through his locks, just as he always have.

The interviewer then asks about their plans before they're heading onto another world tour. And Jimin's answer makes your lips part.

"Ah, I'm heading back home to Busan for a few days. I'm going to see my best friend, hoping she still wants to see me. I miss her.
A lot." He says, scratching his neck before nodding slowly at the interviewer.

Your mimic is reflected in the mirror, a confused look filling your features, your eyes suddenly stinging from the words directed to you.

"Oh wow, imagine being Park Jimin's best friend. . . She's must be so lucky!"
Your hairdresser shakes her head with her brows high on her forehead, a small smirk on her face.

You swallow, before locking eyes with her in the mirror, sighing and nodding your head, a small smile forming on your own lips.

"Yeah, she's lucky indeed."