Internally

I take the next two days off work. I figured it wouldn’t be too bad since there won’t be any stages, only interviews and fansigns. I would hardly be missed.

I’ve stopped crying by the time I go back in. The tears are replaced with a cold anger, and only occasional mournful expressions. I didn’t tell Mom. She still thinks I was sick, and keeps saying how the flu is going around.

“Mina, lovely to see you!” says Kyung Hee the moment I walk into the design hall at the Big Hit building.

“Good morning,” I say, throwing on a smile and bowing to her.

My hands fiddle with the buttons on the camera in my hands as we continue walking. It’s the first time I’ve had it with me in a while. It almost acts like a comfort blanket, I suppose, not that nineteen year old girls need those anymore.

“Your mom said you’ve been sick,” Kyung Hee remarks. “Are you okay now? What happened?”

“I’m okay now,” I tell her, taking a deep breath. “There have been a lot of things going on in my life, and a lot of stress I suppose. It didn’t make being sick any better.”

“Hmm,” says Kyung Hee, nodding her head, “Would you say you’re having trouble moving into the future? I’ve met a lot of people in my time struggling with things like that.”

“I am, actually,” I agree, raising my eyebrows as her insight takes me by surprise, “I want to move on with my life but there are still pieces of it sticking around.”

Kyung Hee smiles then. “I think I know what you need,” she says, “You need a real change to step forward into the future. And I have the perfect idea.”

“You- you do?” Had she been thinking about this already?

“Come with me and I’ll explain,” she says, so I follow her into her makeup suite.

“What kind of change are you thinking of?” I question hesitantly.

“What are your thoughts about dying your hair?”

I turn and stare at her. Dying my hair? I guess it would be a change...

“It would be good for your confidence,” says Kyung Hee, “And you could choose the colour, of course. Want to do it?”

Despite my reservations, I find myself smiling and I nod at her. “Why not?”

“I’m always right,” says Kyung Hee. “What colour do you want to go for?”

I sit down in the makeup chair in front of the mirror, put my camera down and look at myself. My hair is currently coffee-brown and wavy, like it has been since birth. Maybe it will be good to pay some attention to myself for once. What colour should I go?

“What would you suggest?” I ask, looking at Kyung Hee in the mirror. Then I frown. “Wait, aren’t you busy today? How do you have time-?”

“Mina, it’s fine,” Kyung Hee interrupts. “The members don’t have a stage until tomorrow, so they’re rehearsing again today. I’m not needed, and neither are you. Anyway, as for colour, I think for you it’s best to go all the way and go blonde.”

Blonde?! Such a drastic colour change unnerves me slightly. I look at my reflection, wondering what a blonde Mina will look like. But then again, Kyung Hee is right, as she constantly reminds everyone. If I’m dying my hair, I might as well go for it.

“Blonde it is,” I tell her with a firm nod.

The further Kyung Hee gets in the process of dying my hair, the better my mood becomes. It feels good to focus on me for once, instead of concentrating on Dad, or the baby, or my so-called ‘friends’ or anything I left behind.

In short, in feels like a new beginning.

“So, Mina,” says Kyung Hee after a while, “Since we’re having a girly chat, I’m curious about something. Have you got a boyfriend?”

Is she joking? I laugh awkwardly and shake my head. “No, not at all. I’ve never actually been... in a relationship...”

“Really?” Kyung Hee exclaims, all shocked. “I would have thought you’d have a handsome American guy on the phone.”

I just shake my head again. “Boys never really... liked me,” I confide in her.

“Now that’s just ridiculous,” says Kyung Hee, waving the hairdryer around with her big gestures. At this point, I think she’s almost finished doing my hair. I can’t tell because she told me to close my eyes.

“Anyway, you are done, my wonderful client,” says Kyung Hee grandly. “Open your eyes!”

Wow. My hair, hanging in soft waves just around my shoulders, is now a light blonde colour. It almost doesn’t seem real as I run my fingers through it. I feel almost like a different person – the new Mina Delaney who doesn’t have a care in the world.

I really like it. And that’s what I tell Kyung Hee about a billion times.

“I knew you’d love it,” she says, beaming. “You know I’m always right about everything. Go and see what your mom thinks. She’s in the design hall, I think.”

“Okay,” I say. I pick up my camera from where it lies on the makeup table and bound out of the makeup suite like it’s Christmas.

Honestly, what’s come over me? I can’t keep a grin off my face.

“Mom!” I call from across the room.

“Yes?” She doesn’t look up so I go over.

“What do you think?”

“What do I think of what?”

“Mom, you can stop working for two seconds,” I tell her, laughing, putting the camera on her table to catch her attention. “Look at my hair.”

So Mom looks up. Her eyes widen and then she’s laughing too. “When did this happen? You’re- you’re literally blonde!”

“It was kind of a spur of the moment decision,” I answer, still grinning. “I really like it though.”

“So do I,” says Mom sincerely. “You look beautiful, Mina.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Mom looks back down at her work and frowns. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she says. “I left some things in the store cupboard on the other floor.” She smiles again after looking at my hair and leaves the room.

As for me, I sink into the couch and smile some more. I don’t know what it is about getting your hair done, but it makes life feel so much better.

“Ah, Ji Yeon!” says a voice from the doorway.

My ears perk up slightly. That’s my mom’s name.

“Yes, did you need anything?” Mom asks, her voice faint from the distance between her and my ears.

“No, it’s okay, but we were looking for Mina?”

“Oh? She’s just in there.”

Who’s looking for me?

The door bursts open and suddenly I’m bombarded with seven guys who look like they haven’t seen me in two years. It’s been two days.

“Mina-ya!” Jungkook yells, crushing me in a rough hug.

He’s freakishly tall, that one. He’s like my brother – and he behaves the way a twin brother would. We’re almost twins, to be fair. We were born only days apart.

“What happened to your hair?” Jungkook asks in amazement, whilst the others stare.

“She dyed it, stupid,” says Namjoon, laughing.

“You’re blonde like me now!” Taehyung announces excitedly.

“Hey, and me,” Jimin points out, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs.

“They keep dying your hair silver, hyung,” says Taehyung.

“Still, we’re like the yellow trio now,” Jimin laughs.

“Like your yellow coat,” Jin suddenly exclaims. “You’re Yellow Hair Girl now.”

“It’s not that yellow, is it?” I ask anxiously.

“No, it’s not,” says Hoseok. “It looks very nice.” He pulls a cheeky grin and gives me two thumbs up.

“Thank you,” I say in response, bowing my head. “But why are you all here?”

“We were worried about you,” Jin answers. He looks as if he’s about to say more, but Jungkook cuts him off.

“I obviously wasn’t too worried,” says Jungkook. “I knew you’d be fine.”

“Obviously,” I agree, half-sarcastically.

“Were you very sick?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, but I’m fine now,” I tell him. “You didn’t have to come and check up on me.”

“We wanted to,” says Jimin, but his voice fades out in my ears as my eyes pan around the circle of members.

Because I catch Suga staring at me.

Why is he staring? Did I do something wrong? Again?! No, that can’t be it. He can’t be irritated just by me smiling for once...

I don’t quite meet his eyes but I can tell he’s staring. A billion thoughts and explanations run through my mind, but nothing quite makes sense. I glance at him one more time, feeling my ears heat up with embarrassment. Then my shoes become increasingly interesting and I bow my head to look at the floor.

There is a long time in which nobody speaks. Does my hair really look that bad? Why else could he be staring?

“Hyung.”

The voice sounds like Hoseok, but I don’t dare look up. I don’t want to see Suga’s stare of distaste again.

“Hyung!” He says it again, clicking his fingers. “Hyung, stop staring at Mina. You’re making her feel uncomfortable.”

I raise my gaze hesitantly, to see Suga shrug his shoulders and scoff.

“I wasn’t staring,” he mutters, “It’s just... her hair...”

Hoseok starts laughing, so Suga mumbles something about needing to finish something and leaves the design hall.

“Anyway,” says Jimin, both helpfully and unhelpfully cutting in, “Can I talk to you for a minute, Mina?”

“Uh... of course,” I answer.

The other members remain still, as if they don’t understand what he’s saying.

“Um, alone?” Jimin adds, much to the amusement of Jungkook and Taehyung. Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok quietly leave after saying goodbye.

“Sure, go ahead,” says Jungkook, still chuckling to himself, “Oh, Mina, meet me in the canteen after, okay?”

“Why?”

“I’m buying you lunch,” Jungkook declares.

“What are you – her boyfriend?” Taehyung asks, completely beside himself.

“You’re only saying that because you can’t get a girlfriend, hyung,” Jungkook says smugly.

Taehyung falls silent at that.

“Anyway,” I say through a cough, “Why do you want to buy me lunch, Jungkook? You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know,” says Jungkook, “But you made our breakfast the other day and I want to be the first to return the favour. It was delicious.”

“Alright,” I concede, “I’ll meet you down there later.”

“Nice!” Jungkook grins, links arms with Taehyung, and drags him out of the room.

And then it’s just me and Jimin... again.

Why does this keep happening? Things people have said echo through my mind, like Namjoon’s sharp words to Jimin that day I cooked them breakfast. Then there’s that conversation Jimin and I almost had backstage, and Suga’s interruption, and all of the times Jimin tried to explain himself after that.

The main thing that’s bothering me, though, is trying to figure him out. Jimin. He’s been trying to explain himself, yes, but what does he have to explain? The way he approaches the situation makes it sound like what he has to say is a piece of serious news.

A series of images flash across my eyes, all of them highlighting the moments we’ve met eyes, and laughed together, and been as close as...

Hang on a second.

No. No way. What I’m thinking right now, as Jimin takes a deep breath to speak, can’t possibly be true. Can it? No. I’m just... me, and Jimin is a world famous kpop idol. Why would he-?

He can’t. Does Jimin... like me?

“So, Mina,” Jimin says, “I guess this is finally it. I’ve been trying to say this for days, but there hasn’t really been a good time. I-”

“Do you like me?” I blurt.

Jimin’s eyes go wide and his mouth gapes open. “What?”

“I’m really sorry, but something like that would never work. This is my job, and even though I see why all your fans like you, I don’t and-”

“Mina,” Jimin cuts me off, laying a hand on my shoulder, “This is what I needed to explain.”

“I just don’t want to make things awkward-”

“Just let me speak,” he says, laughing, “Please?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

We sit on the couch in the design hall, and he starts to explain himself.

“I think, even though I didn’t intend to, I’ve caused a misunderstanding,” Jimin tells me. “I’ve created the impression that I like you, which I do of course, but actually, I don’t have a crush on you.”

I find myself breathing a long sigh of relief.

“I didn’t realise I was doing it until Namjoon talked to me last week,” Jimin continues. “I felt really bad that I’d made you uncomfortable. That’s why I disappeared to my room.”

“That makes sense now,” I admit. Thank goodness there isn’t another problem for me to deal with...

“I tried to explain what had happened many times after that,” says Jimin, “But something always interrupted me. I’m really sorry I made you think that. It’s not that you’re not beautiful, or smart, or funny; it’s just that I never felt that way for you.”

“No, it’s fine, I understand,” I reply quickly, meeting his eyes with a smile. “I didn’t like you either, Jimin.”

“To be completely honest,” Jimin chuckles, “I tried to be kind to you and spend time with you because you’re funny, and it’s not like hanging out with the members. I just wanted another friend, really.”

“That is such a huge relief,” I confess, cracking a grin. “Hey, aren’t we two thirds of the Yellow Trio now?”

“Yes!” Jimin exclaims. “The Yellow Trio are the brotherhood- um, and sisterhood- of all things yellow. We will forever remain as one.”

And just like that, everything is resolved.

“Shall we go and get lunch?” Jimin asks, standing up and offering me a hand. “Jungkook said he’d buy for you.”

“Yep, let’s go,” I say, letting him pull me to my feet. “I’d better catch in on an offer like that while I can.”

So we leave the design hall behind and start walking down to the canteen.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” says Jimin rather abruptly, “I know he’s annoying as hell, but you two seem very close.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Yellow Brother,” I tell him warningly, throwing him a sideways glare.

“What? It’s not weird. You’re the same age,” Jimin points out.

“He’s way too tall,” I complain.

“And handsome?” Jimin adds innocently.

“Well... yes, but that’s not the point!” I object. “He’s like my brother.”

“What about the brother-sisterhood?” Jimin asks, pulling a hurt expression.

“That’s different.”

“Mina.”

“I don’t like Jungkook.”

“I never said that.”

I slap his arm and roll my eyes. “We’re almost like twins anyway,” I tell him primly. “We were both born in September, in the same year.”

“It’s already been your birthday?” Jimin asks, suddenly serious. “How come I didn’t know?”

I swallow. I didn’t mean to bring that up.

“I... I don’t know,” I answer.

I do know.

“Well, next year, we’ll have to throw you the biggest and best birthday party,” Jimin declares.

“Next year?” I laugh.

“Of course,” says Jimin brightly. “You’ll be twenty-one next year, right? Of course you need a birthday party.”

“Twenty in American age,” I correct automatically. “But who’s saying I’ll be here next year?”

Jimin smacks me lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t say things like that!” he says. “You’ll be here. And anyway, even if you’re not, we’ll find you, okay?”

“You will?” I ask, my voice growing soft with my surprise at his sincerity.

“Of course!” Jimin says again. “We’re your friends.”

We join the other members in the canteen, where they’ve already started on lunch. Jungkook keeps his promise and buys mine, and for a while, we sit, talk, and enjoy. And I realise just how cool all of these guys are. Not cool in a way that you’d describe an expensive car, but cool because they’re just nice, decent guys.

“Where did Yoongi go?” Jimin asks mid-bite.

“To his Genius Lab,” Namjoon answers, “Where else?”

“Genius Lab?” I repeat, idly curious.

“It’s where all the magic happens,” Hoseok says grandly. “It’s where he produces a lot of our music.”

“Ah,” I say, tilting my head, “That’s interesting.”

He’s really dedicated to his work. It must be a huge passion of his...

“Do you think he’ll get lunch?” Jin asks. “He must be hungry.”

“He won’t come in for lunch,” Taehyung scoffs. “He’ll be in there till the sun’s gone down.”

“We should get him some,” Jin decides. His eyes scan the table to see who has finished.

Unfortunately, that person is me.

“Would you mind taking something up to him, Mina?” Jin asks hopefully. “It wouldn’t take long. I mean, I could do it but I wanted to finish-”

“It’s fine. I can do it.”

It’s not fine. I’d much rather not do it.

“Oh, okay!” says Jin. He buys some lunch for Suga and hands me both the food and the change he received.

“I don’t need the money,” I tell him shaking my head.

“Jungkook bought you lunch,” Jin points out. “You’re doing me a favour again. Let me repay it as best I can.”

“Okay,” I agree reluctantly, giving both a sigh and a smile. “So where’s this Genius Lab of his?”

Under the members’ vague directions, I head up to the floor above in search of Suga. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I think about him staring at me before. Do I disgust him that much?

“It’s the fourth door on the left down that corridor.”

“It’s probably best if you just leave the food and go.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t really like to be disturbed whilst he’s working.”

I approached the door and anxiously raise a hand to knock. He won’t get mad if I go in, will he? I knock loudly, but no-one answers. Is he purposely ignoring me? Honestly, I’m just trying to be nice.

I turn the handle and let myself in, whether he likes it or not. As it turns out, maybe he wasn’t ignoring me at all. He’s got his back turned to the door, eyes fixed on his computer, and headphones over his ears. He looks busy. I should do what the members told me – leave the food and then leave myself.

But things never go to plan when you’re me.

My foot catches on the doorframe, sending both me, and Suga’s lunch, flying towards the floor. Most people would manage to avoid a disaster, but my mind goes into complete panic. The worst part of it all is that Suga’s lunch is probably no longer edible. It’s all over my shirt.

He’s looking at me from his computer chair, lips slightly parted in surprise and eyes wide from beneath the dark fringe. He slowly lets the headphones slide around his neck, most of his body still remaining frozen.

I’m waiting for his response, thinking up multiple remarks he could use.

Didn’t anyone tell you not to disturb me?

As I keep saying, you should really learn to watch where you’re going...

So you’re not only dumb, you’re clumsy too.

But he doesn’t use any of those. Instead, he manages to surprise me again, taking a lead in the game I’m playing with him in my head.

“Are you okay?”

I slowly meet his eyes, which show what seems to be genuine concern. Does he really care? I never thought he would...

But he’s still staring, again, so I pick myself off the floor, with most of his lunch sticking to my shirt. It’s a shame, because I like that shirt. I stare at the Docs on my feet, unsure of how to approach the situation. My brain is yelling at me to leave, but I can’t move. Not under his gaze.

“You were bringing me lunch?” Suga asks. I glance up only to see him frowning again.

“Yes.”

“Looks like you’ll have to get me another one,” he remarks. I look up again to retort, but he’s smiling in amusement.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” I tell him shortly, trying to put an end to my embarrassment. “I’ll go now. One of the other members can come back with something else for you.”

I turn and flee towards the open door, eager to escape before anything awkward happens again. And I almost make it, too. But a hand catches my wrist, pulling me to a stop. And I swear my heart plunges to the bottom of my chest.

I hesitantly look up to meet his eyes. I can’t read his expression, which unnerves me. But what does he want this time?

“Come with me.”

With no other explanation, he pulls me along by the wrist, out of his room, and down the corridor. I swallow my objections and follow. It’s not like I want to. I don’t have a choice. I start to frown as I recognise the route we’re taking. It leads towards the design hall.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Suga finally lets go of my wrist and leads the way into the design hall. “You’re wearing my lunch,” he points out.

“Oh... yeah,” I respond, looking down at the food on my shirt. “But you didn’t have to bring me here. I could’ve found a new shirt on my own-”

“Just stop talking,” Suga says irritably. “You always get lost. I’m not being the one to let you go missing. There’s a shirt in the storage cupboard that one of our rookies wore to an interview last week. I remember Ji Yeon saying she didn’t need it anymore.”

“Okay,” I say, but I’m still frowning. “But why would you help me?”

Suga purses his lips. “I don’t like feeling indebted,” he answers shortly. “And besides, the shirt you’re wearing was already ugly. Go and change.”

I roll my eyes at that but I follow his instructions and find a clean shirt in the storage cupboard. It’s a loose sweater in dark blue which is soft to the touch. I replace the stained shirt with the clean one and rearrange my newly blonde hair around my shoulders. The blue and the blonde compliment each other well, which satisfies my aesthetic photographer’s eye.

I peer around the door into the design hall to see if Suga’s still there. He wouldn’t be, would he? He would have found something worth his time and returned to his room... or something. But when I take a look, he’s perched on the edge of Mom’s work table gazing at a camera.

My camera.

I march out of the storage cupboard, outraged. How dare he look through that? It’s my personal, private, bank of memories. There are even pictures on there from back in the States from before things got seriously messed up.

“Hey...!” I begin, but my voice trails off at his surprised yet intrigued expression.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was just looking. Is this yours?”

“Yes,” I say, snatching it from his hands. “And it’s private.”

“Ah... I understand,” he says then. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. But your photos... they’re not bad.”

I meet his eyes, which are several inches above mine. “They’re not bad?” I repeat.

“They’re... good.” It’s as if he struggles to force a positive adjective out of his mouth.

“That’s nice to hear,” I tell him. “Your music is... not bad, either.”

He frowns at me then, but I get the feeling that the frown isn’t genuinely annoyed. We irritate each other until the other loses it. Currently, I think I’m winning.

“My music is loved by millions of people,” Suga argues.

I just shrug. On my way out of the room, I pat his shoulder with a smug smile. “Keep working on it,” I say.

“I will,” he says, slowing down my exit, “If you keep working on your clothing choices, that is.”

Damn, this kid really gets on my nerves. I have to keep reminding myself that he’s older than me, and I can’t call him a kid.

Instead of retorting to his previous statement, I turn around and ask, “If you don’t mind me asking... how old are you?”

Suga raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to one side. “Twenty-four,” he answers.

That’s twenty-three American age...

Wait. He’s really four years older than me?

“Well,” he says, pushing past me through the doorway, “I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got work to do. Bring me some lunch and don’t fall over again. I’m sure it’s very embarrassing for you.”

I watch him walk down the corridor as I grit my teeth. It’s as if he’s inside my brain. I was thinking of bringing him lunch, but I think I’ve changed my mind. Jungkook can do it.

“You took a long time,” Hoseok remarks as I re-enter the canteen. “What took you so long?”

“It’s a long story,” I say, unwilling to talk about it.

“Okay...” says Hoseok. “What happened to your shirt? I swear you were wearing a different one earlier.”

“There was an accident. Suga needs some more lunch,” I tell him mildly.

Suga is not the right name for a guy like him. Sugar is supposed to be sweet.

And Min Yoongi is annoying as hell.

Notes

Hi!!

I'm actually really happy with how this chapter turned out. I had other things planned for it but it took a turn somewhere in the middle and I really liked it :)

I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be up as soon as I've written it <3

Lots of love and thank you so much,
asterisk xx