Internally

If I’m honest, I spend most of the early afternoon watching dumb videos on YouTube.

With the members in the practise room for the majority of the day, and the costume and makeup team not needing me, there isn’t a lot I can do. So I tuck my legs up on the couch in the design hall, warm in the dark blue sweater I now wear, and sit there for a while with my eyes glued to the screen of my phone. As always, my camera is hanging safely around my neck.

It takes all of my will power not to check my texts, or mull over what I said to Dad only days before. I keep thinking about the baby. I keep thinking about Mom and Dad. And I keep thinking about home. My thoughts are fleeting, though. I’ve become used to my surroundings and America feels a world away. I’ve forgotten the smell of our old house, and if you asked me to find my way to school again, I wouldn’t be able to find it.

In a way, it’s kind of sad. But I tell myself to get over it, and focus on the stupid content YouTube has to offer. It’s sort of peaceful, like the calm before a storm. Tomorrow will be hectic again, and it’s nice to get some quiet time.

Mom says something from her work bench and I pull out my headphones, raising my eyebrows in her direction.

“I asked if you were alright,” she fills me in, not looking up from her work; “You shouldn’t be in work if you’re still sick.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly.

If I take a taxi home, I’ll be all the more tempted to look over old texts.

“If you’re sure, Mina,” Mom says. “If you have nothing to do-”

She cuts herself off to look down at an incoming text. “Oh, Kyung Hee says she wants you,” she tells me.

“Why?” I ask, starting to slide my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.

Mom shrugs as she reads through the message. “She didn’t say,” she answers, “She just says she wants to see you in the practise room.”

I wonder why...?

“Sure,” I say, “I guess it must be urgent.” I get to my feet and head for the door.

“Oh, Mina?” Mom calls, stopping me in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“If you need to go home, just let me know,” says Mom with a smile. “We can get a taxi if you feel sick.”

“I really am okay,” I assure her, “But thank you. See you later.”

After asking for directions and taking several wrong turns, I finally end up at the practise room. I’m not the best with taking directions in English, so it was even harder in a language that wasn’t my first. I’d say I’m much more fluent than I was a few weeks ago, but I still catch myself translating to English in my head when I listen to what people have to say to me.

Don’t even get me started on reading and writing in Korean.

I raise a hand to knock on the door of the practise room but I freeze as I peer through the window. Kyung Hee is inside, as expected, and so are all of the members. But what catches me off guard is the tall, slender young woman standing there too.

It’s hard to guess her age since I don’t have a great view. She could be anywhere between late teens to late twenties. I’d be able to judge better if I could see her face. Her hair is long and silky and black and falls down her back without a kink. She wears a short straight skirt paired with a blazer and heels. I look down at the ripped jeans I chose today, and the sweater I was forced to change into. She looks so sophisticated in comparison.

But who even is she?

I’m about to let my hand drop from its raised position and retreat. Maybe Kyung Hee sent the text by mistake. Maybe I’m not supposed to be here. Heck, I’m not technically even an employee. I’m just an intern who gets paid for her work.

Unfortunately, my ‘running away’ plan fails when Jungkook spots me in the window of the door and catches my eye. He smiles and waves enthusiastically, so I can’t face-palm at this precise moment. I smile back and open the door.

Damn you, Jungkook.

“Ah, Mina!” says Kyung Hee, ushering me inside.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yes,” says Kyung Hee with a big grin, “I wanted you and the members to be the first to meet our new makeup artist!”

Honestly, I’m not sure what hits me first, but I’m bombarded with a whole train crash of thoughts.

She’s taller than me. Of course she is, idiot; she’s wearing heels and you’re wearing those stupid boots you always wear. But she’d still be taller than me without them. That’s because you’re short, Shorty.

Not all of my thoughts are about height, I promise you. But she seems to beat me on every other level too. I take a good look at her face and judge her to be older than me, somewhere between twenty and twenty-two. She can’t be older than twenty-three, surely. She’s a beautiful South Korean lady with a fabulous new job.

Great.

“Everyone,” Kyung Hee continues, “I’m sure you are all aware that we’ve been lacking a makeup artist for a while, which is why I’m so glad to finally have one with us. We’re up to the right number now! Shows will be a breeze.”

Well, that’s gotta hurt. My thoughts travel back to my attempts to fill in for the missing number of makeup artists. I wasn’t that bad, was I? Of course, this new girl is fully qualified and knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Anyway,” says Kyung Hee, “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

The new girl gives a brief smile and bows her head. “Hello, everyone! My name is Hwa Nari and I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Of course her Korean is completely accurate and her pronunciation is perfect. She doesn’t stumble, not once. It’s so unfair.

The members respond with their group greeting, and they all bow in synchronisation. I try to read their expressions, but most of them are unreadable.

“Obviously you know me already,” says Kyung Hee, “And you’ll get to know the others in time.”

I wait, and wait, and wait, pondering over to introduce myself or to let Kyung Hee do it. In the end, Kyung Hee does it for me, but I’m kind of put out, since I’m almost an afterthought.

“Oh, this is my personal assistant Mina,” she adds.

I bow, holding back a sigh. Why does this Nari girl have to be so perfect?

“I’m looking forward to working with you all,” says Nari.

And we totally look forward to working with you too.

I suppose this means I’m back to coffee duty, instead of trying my hand in makeup. I don’t know whether it’s a relief or a burden.

Kyung Hee reads a text and then lightly touches Nari’s arm. “Ooh, I’d like you to meet the production team as well,” she says. “They’re free now, so shall we go?”

“Of course,” says Nari pleasantly, following Kyung Hee out of the practise room.

There is that moment of silence in which no one in the room moves. Should I leave now? Or would that be weird, since I only just arrived? Luckily, the members save me from indecisiveness with a request.

“Mina, could you do us a favour?” Namjoon asks, eying the camera that hands around my neck.

“You want me to photograph something?” I ask in confusion.

“That’s actually a good idea, hyung!” says Jungkook approvingly. “Can you film something for us, Mina-ya?”

I raise my eyebrows at them, curious as to exactly what they want me to do. “Film what?”

“Well, since it’s nearly Halloween,” Jin explains, “We were thinking of filming a Halloween dance practise of 21st Century Girls.”

I find myself chuckling slightly at the odd request. “How do you make that about Halloween?”

“We’ve prepared costumes,” says Hoseok with a grin.

“Well... I suppose I can do that,” I tell them. “How do you want it filmed?”

“Ooh,” says Jimin as he comes over, “Give me your phone.”

“There are better ways to ask for someone’s number, hyung,” says Taehyung as he cracks up.

Asking for my number? I instantly feel the tips of my ears heat up and I’m glad they’re covered by my new blonde hair. Stop overreacting, stupid. You’ve already agreed to be friends, remember?

Jimin just laughs easily, despite Taehyung’s remark. “That’s not why I’m asking,” he assures me.

I frown, but hand him the phone anyway. I watch as he brings up a video on YouTube and hands it back. It’s one of their previous dance practises, for Blood Sweat and Tears, I think.

“Watch this while we go and change,” he advises. “You just have to film from the front, and focus particularly on which ever member has a line. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” I say.

The seven of them leave to change into whatever costumes they have prepared, whilst I sit against the practise room wall watching the Blood Sweat and Tears dance practise, and mulling over how to film this one.

It shouldn’t be too hard, right? Filming is just like photographing. You have to keep the camera still and in focus, and keep the movement fluid. Filming a 21st Century Girls dance practise should be a piece of cake.

Except... I wasn’t expecting this.

My mouth falls open as they come back into the practise room. When Hoseok said ‘costumes’, I had pictured the regular Halloween costumes that most people go for in America – you know, ghosts, vampires, zombies, and all the rest. The Halloween costumes that BTS have chosen are enough to render me speechless.

Hoseok is a skeleton, which makes sense. Suga is dressed in Korean traditional dress, which also makes sense, though he wears it with sneakers and skinny jeans. Taehyung, I’m guessing, is some sort of anime character perhaps? But the others just crack me up.

Jin has an actual model horse attached to his cowboy costume. Namjoon’s hat, or headpiece, is enormous, and he is clad entirely in yellow. Jungkook is a huge bunny rabbit. And Jimin... is some sort of vegetable....

“Happy Halloween!” Taehyung yells upon entrance, waving a small yellow animal prop around in the air.

I quickly shut my mouth and scurry to my feet, camera to hand. I blink one last time before pulling myself together.

“So... do you need me to put the music on or anything?”

“That would be great, actually,” says Namjoon, directing me to the speakers.

“It’s not too hard,” Suga adds, though no one else seems to notice.

The subtle digs under every word he says – it really gets on my nerves.

Namjoon is entirely sincere in his explanation of everything to do, but I just can’t take him seriously, not with the costume he’s in. But I think I manage to remember everything. The members get into position to begin, and it’s my job to start the music and get the camera rolling.
And boy was I unprepared for this.

Maybe I should have watched their older Halloween dance practises beforehand. At least I would have had some idea of what to expect.

I clamp my teeth together to stop myself from laughing, and force myself to hold the camera still. They’re actually ridiculous – all of them. I move around a little to focus on individual members but it’s almost impossible to do a good, professional camera job when what you have to film... is this.

But what surprises me most is watching Suga actually have fun with the dance. His expressions are particularly funny to watch. And I didn’t realise how good Korean traditional dress actually looks-

I cut off my own thoughts to focus on the last part of the dance, following them as they exit what would be the stage. But as soon as the music ends, I collapse into fits of laughter, clutching my camera to my chest.

These guys are good at this fan service thing. They’re surprisingly hilarious.

“Did you get it?” Jimin asks, waddling over in his vegetable suit.

I manage to get out an answer from between laughs, which cracks Jimin up some more. I get to my feet and dust off my jeans, playing off my outburst as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah, I got it,” I say coolly. Realising the camera is still running, I quickly stop the video and sling the strap back around my neck.

“Do you think we can upload it today?” Hoseok asks no one in particular.

“Should be able to,” says Jin. “We can probably upload it onto the computer straight from the camera, right?”

Namjoon nods. “Do you have a USB cable for your camera, Mina?”

“Um, I think so,” I answer, frowning as I try to think of where it is, “Actually, I think it’s probably still in the design hall from ages ago. I can get it, if you want.”

“That would be great, thanks,” says Namjoon with a grateful smile, “Also, if you could upload it, it would be best from Yoongi’s computer.”

I glance over at Suga, who is busy pulling off his traditional costume over his head, pulling a little of his black t-shirt up with it. But I don’t notice that... obviously. He looks up at the sound of his name, letting the costume fall to the floor where the wide-brim hat already lies.

“Uh, okay,” I say haltingly, “The one in his room?”

“Yeah,” says Namjoon, “Could you show her where it is, hyung?”

Suga’s eyebrows twitch but he just shrugs. “Sure, I guess,” he says. He runs a hand through his dark hair in an attempt to tidy it, but it only becomes even messier than it was before.

“This way,” he adds monotonously, making for the door. As reluctant as I always am, I follow his lead.

“Oh, Mina?” Namjoon says, “Thank you so much, by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” I tell him, pulling on a smile.

So, because I’m trying to do them all a favour, I follow Suga down the corridor that leads back to the design hall. He must’ve heard what I said about the USB cable, even though it didn’t seem like he was listening.

“I hope you didn’t shake the camera,” he remarks.

He’s doing that annoying insulting thing again, isn’t he.

“I didn’t,” I tell him firmly.

“Good.”

I grab the USB cable from the design hall and head back out to where Suga is leaning languidly against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to upload the video,” I say pointedly. “You can go back to whatever you were doing.”

Suga just rolls his eyes and straightens up to his full height. “I want to watch it first,” he says nonchalantly, “And besides, you’ll probably do it wrong.”

He turns to continue down the corridor and for a few moments I just stand there glaring at the back of his head. He really, really gets on my nerves.

The rest of the journey to Suga’s ‘Genius Lab’ is in silence. I refuse to say anything because I’m annoyed, and he just remains quiet. I don’t think he minds the silence, and if I’m honest, I don’t either. I’d rather say nothing than let him insult me.

“In here,” Suga mutters, unlocking the door to his room. He leads the way inside and sits down in his computer chair. He holds out a hand expectantly, and I hand over the camera and USB lead.

I stand there, still seething, whilst he watches the video on the small screen on the camera. Of course I didn’t shake the camera. And I am perfectly capable of uploading a video to YouTube. I’m not stupid. As much as he might think I'm nothing but a dumb-

“Hey, what are you doing?” I ask, suddenly snapping back to attention.

“Just looking,” Suga says, as if it’s no big deal. I watch over his shoulder as he flicks through all the photos I’ve taken since first coming to Big Hit.

“Give it back,” I demand, trying to snatch the camera back.

He chuckles and holds it out of my reach. “You have some nice photos on here,” he says, “Particularly of the members. Do they know you’ve taken these?”

“They’re just like behind the scenes photos,” I reason, reaching desperately for the camera.

“I didn’t get this far back the last time I had a look,” Suga remarks. “You’ve got a lot of me.”

“I do not!” I protest. “I have exactly the same number of you as all of the others.”

Suga just laughs at my struggle to regain my camera from his grasp.

“You’re so annoying!”

Frustrated, I reach too far and lose my footing. I find myself slipping, and landing on my front in Suga’s lap, arm still outstretched. For a second, we both freeze at such close contact. This is so awkward...

And then he stands up and I roll onto the floor, still camera-less.

Brilliant.

“You’re so rude,” I mumble, rubbing the elbow I landed on.

“I’m rude?” he repeats. “You’re the rude one. You have no respect for anything.”

“Hey!” I object, craning my neck in his direction. “You’re the one who doesn’t even have a heart. It’s not my fault I keep making mistakes-”

“So you know that you’re clumsy then.”

“Shut up,” I say, pushing myself into a sitting position. “Yes, I don’t know much, but you can stop insulting me for things I can’t control. You’re rude, heartless, and insulting.”

His face is expressionless, which unnerves me. “Anything else?” he asks. I can’t tell whether he’s annoyed or amused... or both.

I stand up to face him, though it’s still irritating how much taller he is than me when he’s not even that tall. “And you’re confusing,” I conclude.

A slight smirk settles on his lips. “Confusing? Interesting...” And with no further explanation, he sits back in his computer chair to find the dance practise video in my camera file.

I frown whilst he clicks his way through the file, taking an excruciatingly long time to pass through photos of him. I let out a huff and cross my arms. He’s driving me crazy.

“Hey,” I say, reaching for the computer mouse, “Don’t just go through all of them. They’re mine, and you’re disrespecting my privacy.”

Suga scoffs then. “That’s funny, coming from you.”

My hand freezes above the mouse, hovering over his. “That’s not fair,” I complain. “I didn’t even touch anything.”

“So you do know what I’m talking about?”

“Shut up.”

“You really shouldn’t go in other people’s rooms without asking, you know. They might get angry.”

“Well, maybe they should learn how to let go of a grudge!”

He glances up at me with my last statement, chuckles again, and turns back to the computer screen. I snatch my hand back before his hand can reach the mouse, crossing my arms, offended.

“The video file’s right at the end,” I snap.

“I know.”

Ugh! He’s infuriating.

After what seems like forever, he finally uploads the dance practise to the BTS YouTube channel. When he’s done, he leans back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. I take the first opportunity I can to grab my camera, and hastily make for the door.

“Hey.”

What could he possibly want now?

“What,” I say flatly, without looking back.

“You forgot the camera cable.”

I resist the urge to face-palm, hold in my sigh, turn around, and take the cable from his hand. I’m the worst. I keep giving him reasons to think I’m stupid. Even though I hate it, I keep on doing it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says. “Try not to trip on your way out.”

I can’t figure him out at all. I was right to say he’s confusing. He is. He has this personality complex that winds me up- And no, Mina, it’s not cute. Nothing about it is cute. He’s a little devil.
So that’s why, as I’m leaving the Genius Lab, I call over my shoulder in English and say,

“I will. Try not to be an asshole.”

Notes

Hey everyone!

This chapter was super fun to write because of all the banter <3

The next chapter might take a turn, so be careful what to expect ;)

See you next update,
asterisk xx

(Also, if you want to find this story easily, just subscribe. And if you have a spare moment, feel free to give it a rating or leave me a short comment. Much appreciated!)