I haven't spent much time with the members for the last two days. It's a whirlwind of setting up my workstation the way I prefer it. Being at Big Hit is overwhelming because my company is so small, our building is just one floor, and we all know each other well. This building is enormous, and there are so many staff members keeping things running.
It is funny to me that people seem to think male Idols have no contact with the opposite sex. This place is dripping in women from the stylists to hair and makeup, all the way to the Marketing and Human Resources department, and these women are absolutely stunning. In fact, it is intimidating to come in rocking my strawberry blond hair and a curvy backside, and then stand in an elevator with these women who are so thin and well-appointed. They look like they could be models. It's truly surreal.
Basically, I feel like a bit of a mess, but I have to remind myself that everyone has their worth, even if it is not aligned to the beauty standards here. Every woman has value no matter their outside appearance, and I try to lean into those thoughts when I'm feeling a bit insecure.
People are friendly but reserved, and I feel strange being the "new foreigner" in the building after having moved from that feeling so long ago at my own company.
I've discovered a few kitchenettes throughout the building with hot water to make coffee and tea, and I'm relieved there is a place where I can feed my tea addiction. One such kitchen has a few tables and is flanked on one side by glass panels. There is a narrow balcony where you can get some air as well, which is a welcome sight since I know I will be holed up in my windowless studio much of my time here. It will be nice to take some fresh air breaks when needed.
I try to balance my crutches and carry some hot tea over to a chair, but it's proving to be a challenge. As I'm trying to maneuver, I hear a voice to my left, and suddenly the tea is being lifted out of my hands.
"Here, let me help you with that." I'm surprised when a tall, handsome man starts walking away with my tea and sets it down on a table for me.
"Thank you so much. I'm so embarrassed, but I genuinely appreciate the help!" I say as I make my way to an accompanying chair.
"It's my pleasure! I'm Minjun. I'm a producer for TXT." He grins with a set of sparkling white teeth. "You must be Lily; we've heard rumors down on our floor of the building that a beautiful woman was working with the BTS boys."
I can feel the blush rise up through my skin, and I smile. The flattery is almost too much for me to handle.
"Well, I don't know about all that, but yes, I'm Lily. It's nice to meet you, Minjun."
Minjun isn't what I would call shy. He makes himself a cup of coffee and sits down without waiting for an invitation, and then he immediately starts teasing me about my choice of tea over coffee and discussing what kind of person he thinks would make such a choice.
"You are a rebel! Who makes such a choice when they can enjoy an Americano? I mean, you are an actual American, I hear. Doesn't that make drinking Americanos part of your genetic makeup?" He teases and gently brushes his hand over mine without hesitation, which takes me utterly by surprise.
I blush again, but before I can say another word, I hear a familiar, seductive sweet voice floating above me. "I think tea is part of her DNA."
I find Suga hovering above my chair, a tight line forming upon his lips as he looks back and forth between us. Somehow I feel like I've been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, but I know this is a ridiculous feeling to have.
"Oh Suga, you made me jump. I didn't see you there! This is..."
"Minjun, we know each other," Suga replies flatly.
"Yes, Minjun rescued me when he saw me struggling to carry my hot tea."
Why am I explaining myself right now?
"The honor was all mine," Minjun replied, glancing up at Suga with a smile.
"I can take it from here," Suga says, lifting my tea off the table. "I'm going to carry this to your studio for you. There's work to be done," he says, not taking his eyes off Minjun.
I don't even hesitate; I get up and just obey. It's a strange feeling. I'm usually such an independent person, but hearing the tone in Suga's voice and seeing how he is acting so strange, I just feel like it would be in everyone's best interest if I go with him.
"It was nice to meet you, Minjun. I'm sure I will see you around."
"I hope so." he chuckles, and I am still utterly awestruck that this man seems so confident in himself.
Suga carries my tea for me, intentionally walking slowly, so I am not left behind, but no words pass between us.
Finally, I can't take it anymore, and I inquire if he and Minjun are friends. "Not friends, work associates," he replies, but there seems to be more to this story. However, since he doesn't offer any other details, I decide it's best not to pry. When we get to my studio, he opens the door for me like a gentleman and puts my tea down next to my computer.
"Thank you so much; that was very kind of you, Suga," I say quietly.
"Min Yoongi."
"What?"
"You will call me Yoongi from now on."
I'm still letting the deep tones of his voice wash over me, and I swear my hands begin to quiver a bit. He sounds a bit like a possessive neanderthal which is usually such a turn-off, but here I am quite literally trying to slow my quickened pulse.
"Thank you, Yoongi," I reply, trying to sound calm.
"You're welcome. If you need me, just text, and I will help." He lifts my phone up, "Unlock this," he gently demands, and entirely out of my character, I obey his command again. He proceeds to tap his phone number into my contacts, and I look at him in awe.
"Have a good day," and he disappears into the hallway as if it was the most normal conversation he has ever had.
That was so unusual. If I really need help, I should probably ask a regular staff member, why would I interrupt Yoongi? OMG, Yoongi has my number now. Oh my gosh, Lily, stop! What the fuck happened to my feminist spirit. Apparently, I threw it out the window the minute Min Yoongi demanded my phone. I need to get a grip on reality.
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Before I signed my contract with Big Hit, I had them write in that I would be able to leave for my physical therapy appointments on Tuesdays. I knew they would expect long days, and I didn't want them to think I was lazy, but they obliged with no objections at all.
I'm sitting in the physical therapy waiting room with my earbuds playing my anthem again. It's a familiar scene from last week as I press my nails into my palm and try to steel my nerves. I don't know why I get so nervous before each appointment.
Suddenly I feel someone sitting next to me, and I look to see Yoongie glancing at me. He continues to materialize out of thin air, but I can't say that it displeases me. I look over and smile.
He's dressed in black again, this time in casual pants, a black sweatshirt, and a black leather coat. He has slides on his feet and is the absolute embodiment of casual cool. I'm already hyped up with anxiety for my appointment, but having him so close to me is making my heart race, especially after our encounter earlier in the day.
"Are you OK?" he says with curiosity dancing around his eyes.
"Nerves!" I smile, and for some reason, I have the compulsion to take one of my earbuds out and stick it right in his ear so he can hear what I'm listening to. I am suddenly reeling with shock over what I have just done, but Yoongi doesn't get mad. He simply nods to the beat.
"This is my anthem. It helps me not be nervous." I explain, searching his face for understanding.
What in the hell am I doing?
"It's a great song," he replies as he picks up my phone. I don't even stop him, which seems to be becoming our new norm. I just stuck an earbud in his ear without asking permission, so I decide quickly I'm going to let whatever is happening right now happen.
A new song clangs to life. It breathes of Korean history and a modern trap beat, and then the rap kicks in. It's strong and seductive and is precisely the kind of energy I desire right now and I look at him with curiosity.
"This should be your new anthem," he replies with a mischievous smile.
"This is really good. You definitely just found my new anthem!"
Yoongi hands me my phone so that I can look at the screen. Daechwita, by Augst D, I see written, and I chuckle at the idea that he thinks I may not have realized it was his song. I can feel the heat rise through my body, and I know my face is flush.
"I guess I better start listening to your mixtape, Yoongi." His name still feels new to me after referring to him as Suga previously, but I also love that he let me into his world a tiny bit.
"Miss Lily, it's time!" the receptionist cheerfully says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Yoongi quietly hands over my earbud, and as I make my way on my crutches to follow the receptionist, I hear him call out quietly, "Try not to curse too much!" I can tell without looking at him that he is teasing me.
I turn and flash him a devilish grin, "What? Did you say you wanted extra curse words? How dare you, Sir!" I laugh as I look back to steal a last glance before I depart the waiting room.
Yoongi has a smirk lingering on his lips, and I notice the tip of his tongue lick the corner of his mouth unconsciously, or at least I think it is unconsciously. All I know for sure is we are going to be okay working together now, and that is comforting. He has a sense of humor, and he wasn't mad at me for my impulsiveness. I just wish my heart wasn't still racing from sitting next to him.