Internally

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” is the first thing Mom says as I walk through the front door.

I was expecting this. It hadn’t crossed my mind until the last leg of the taxi journey that Mom would be mad. But then I remembered that she’s always been overprotective, especially since Dad-

I cut off my train of thought and reply with, “You called me?”

“Yes, I did,” says Mom sternly. “Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I didn’t get any calls,” I tell her, furrowing my brows in confusion. “I guess my phone must’ve died or something.”

“Right,” says Mom, unconvinced.

“Well, I’m going to my room,” I say. “I’ve had a busy day.” I flash a smile at her and slip past into my bedroom.

My afternoon is spent trying to forget the morning, sprawled across my bed, bruised foot propped up, and plugged into a pair of headphones. I didn’t get to finish listening to their album, so I do it now. I pretend not to notice the amount of times I replay First Love, asking myself,

“Oh, is this really the fifth time I’ve listened to it?”

It’s a good song. That’s all. Obviously...

I don’t remember falling asleep but I wake up feeling stiff. I blink my eyes open to the light that streams through open blinds. What time even is it? My stomach growls loudly, signifying breakfast time.

I crawl out of bed and out of my room into the kitchen. There’s a boiled egg waiting on the table for me, as well as a slice of toast and a coffee. I find myself smiling. Mom mustn’t be that mad then. I start eating, unaware of the time.

“Hurry up, Mina, we’ve got to leave in ten,” Mom tells me, bustling her way into the room.

“Ten?!” I repeat, eyes going wide.

“There’s another stage today,” says Mom, “And we are not going to be late. You know Kyung Hee will kill you.”

I let out a groan from a mouthful of egg and toast. Kyung Hee really will kill me if I’m late. “I’ll get dressed now,” I mumble.

“Speaking of which,” says Mom, frowning at me, “What are you wearing? You haven’t changed since you got back yesterday.”

I look down at myself, almost spilling the cup of coffee in my hand. An oversized stripy sweater and a pair of jeans that are several sizes too big... I’m suddenly pulled back to a memory of rolling up the hems of those jeans. Four times. He’s not even that tall! How small must I be to have to roll them up four times? But more importantly:

How did I manage to stay in these clothes?

All I know is that I really can’t go to work in these. I shovel down the rest of my breakfast and dash out to change. There’s that shirt lying on the floor that the bottom of my bed. It’s the black and white pinstriped one I wore on my first day. It’s a little crumpled but it’ll do, right? I pull on a pair of skinny jeans, ignoring the fact that they have rather messy rips in the knees. I don’t even have time to run a brush through my hair, only managing to pile it up into an even bigger mess.

Why does this happen to me every single time?

Even so, I stuff my feet in my Docs and jump into the taxi. At least we’ll get there in time. At least there’s something to be relieved about.

“Mina!” says Kyung Hee the moment we reach the venue for M-COUNTDOWN.

“Good morning,” I reply, bowing politely as Mom and I approach.

Kyung Hee seems to be in a good mood, maybe because she’s not as stressed out as usual. “How was your day off, Mina?” she asks as we head inside.

Fairly terrible... “It was good, thank you,” I answer. “How was yours?”

“Lovely,” Kyung Hee gushes, “But you know I love my work. Today is going to be a great stage.”

We head down to costume and makeup, and I crack a smile as a thought pops into my head. “Did you want a coffee, Kyung Hee?” I question.

She’s in a good mood today. I need to keep it that way.

“Oh, yes, actually,” says Kyung Hee, taken slightly by surprise, “Thank you, Mina.”

She hands me some money and I approach the coffee machine at the end of the block. I make one latte for Kyung Hee, and press the lid down on the cup once it’s done. But without even realising it until the coffee is pouring into the cup, I’m making an Americano too.

I suppose it’s just by habit, but I need to stop making Americanos for Suga. He asks every time that Kyung Hee does, so I always end up making one. I flounder, trying to stop the machine, but there’s nothing I can do about it. The coffee is already ready.

I find myself sighing. And also cursing.

As I walk back to find Kyung Hee, I consider drinking the Americano myself. It wouldn’t hurt to, would it? Of course, when I start wondering things, I stop concentrating, and that’s when a disaster usually happens. I’m not switched on, not looking where I’m going, and prone to tripping...

It’s almost like an exact replay.

Except this time the coffee isn’t actually spilled. Maybe he figured I’d do it again. His hands shoot out to stop me by my shoulders, making sure that the coffee doesn’t even drip, especially not on him. Still, I’m taken by surprise.

I look up at him, already knowing his identity before seeing his face. He isn’t in costume yet, dressed simply in a hoodie and jeans, his black hair sticking out of a beanie. Suddenly, I’m extremely conscious of his hands on my shoulders. Fortunately, he quickly lets them fall to his sides.

“Um... sorry,” I tell him quietly, bowing my head.

It’s weird. Since listening to his song on the album, and his contribution to the album as a whole, it’s like I’ve suddenly got a whole lot more respect for him.

“You should really look where you’re going,” Suga tells me, as if I don’t already know that.

So I just nod.

Then he seems to notice the coffee cups I hold in each hand and his lips twitch slightly, as if he wants to smile. But it turns out more like a smirk.

“You got me a coffee?” he enquires, a single eyebrow raised.

For a few moments, I hesitate, mouth gaping. Then I clench my jaw and shove the coffee into his hands. “It was an accident,” I mutter, and push past him.

I find Kyung Hee in Eun Ha’s waiting room, overseeing her makeup artist. I silently hand her the coffee, which she immediately starts drinking. Eun Ha is busy debating shades of foundation with her makeup artist, whilst Kyung Hee considers the question.

“Can’t you use one the same shade as my skin?” Eun Ha asks, looking at her makeup artist in the mirror.

“The paler one will be more effective though,” the makeup artist argues, holding both shades in her hands.

“I trust that you know what you’re talking about,” Eun Ha reasons, “But I don’t want the people who watch me to think that they have to be pale, especially when I’m not even that shade.”

There is suddenly a rap on the door and Taehyung sticks his head of blond hair around the door. “Eun Ha is needed for a mic check in five,” he says.

“Couldn’t they send someone else to say that?” Kyung Hee asks, stressed again. “You need to be getting into costume.”

“It’s okay, we’ve got time,” says Taehyung easily, now fully coming into the room. He is drinking a bright blue milkshake through a straw, still as far from being ready as possible.

“What do you think, Tae?” Eun Ha asks abruptly, spinning around in her chair to face him. “Which shade should I use?”

“The paler one will be more effective on stage,” the makeup artist tries to argue again.

Taehyung just shrugs as he walks over and takes the darker shade in his free hand. “This one is closer to Eun Ha’s skin tone,” he says. “You should use that.”

Eun Ha grins in success. “Thank you,” she says.

“Now that’s settled,” says Kyung Hee, “You need to be in costume. Now!”

Taehyung just laughs at her and says, “Yes, Mom!”

He leaves the blue milkshake on Eun Ha’s makeup table, saying, “You can finish it, if you like. See you later!”

“Good luck on stage today,” Eun Ha tells him with a smile.

Then, on his way out, Taehyung says, “Oh, Mina, Yoongi says ‘thank you’ - for the coffee.” He flashes a cheeky grin and slips outside.

His words make me scowl.

“Ah, Mina,” says Kyung Hee then, guiding me out into the corridor, “We’re down a makeup artist today. She called in sick this morning, unfortunately. Anyway, I’m not sure whether we’ll get everything done in time, so I might need you to fill in here and there.”

At first, I don’t take in what she’s saying. But then it hits me. Actual work?

“Would that be alright?” Kyung Hee asks, turning her head to look at me.

“Oh, um, of course,” I say, nodding my head at her.

“Good,” says Kyung Hee, “Because this is a job you’re doing, after all.”

She leans in closer and lowers her voice. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the manager expects big things of you, since your mom is Ji Yeon, after all. Who knows? Maybe you’ll take over from me one day.”

I stop in my tracks to think about that one. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life at this point. The prospect of becoming a fully fledged makeup artist is, if anything, slightly daunting.

“Come on then,” says Kyung Hee expectantly, ushering me into the BTS waiting room.

Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are already in there, in costume and getting their hair and makeup done. The three of them wear dark trousers with silk shirts, and they all look very elegant.

“Mina!” Jungkook calls, waving me over to where another makeup artist is applying his foundation. “How is your foot?”

Ah, that.

“It’s okay,” I tell him with a nod, “A little bruised, but okay.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jin pipes up.

“Thank you,” I respond, smiling briefly.

“I was going to say that,” Jungkook points out. “Oh, I picked up your wage from the manager,” he adds.

“You did?”

“Here it is,” Jungkook tells me, handing me an envelope.

“Thank you,” I say, cracking a smile as I slide the envelope into the back pocket of my jeans.

“I told him to get it,” Namjoon points out. “He would’ve forgotten otherwise.”

“I still did it, hyung,” Jungkook argues, turning his head to the protests of the makeup artist.

“Actually, I reminded you in the first place,” Jin says to Namjoon.

“Anyway,” says Kyung Hee, just as some of the other members walk in, “We are on a schedule, people. There is a mic check in fifteen minutes so we need to hurry up.”

“Morning, Mina!” says Hoseok cheerfully from behind me.

I turn around to see him and Suga in matching silk pyjamas and black dress shoes, Hoseok in emerald green and Suga in rose pink. My eyes fall upon the cup of coffee in Suga’s pale hands and I clench my jaw again. Instead of thinking about it, though, I direct all of my attention towards Hoseok and smile.

“You’re wearing pyjamas,” I state, looking them up and down.

Hoseok bursts out laughing. “That’s true,” he says, crossing the room and sitting in his makeup chair. “It is for a reason though.”

“There is no time to talk,” says Kyung Hee, dragging me away. “Mina, can you start on Suga’s foundation, please?”

She barks a few orders to the other makeup artists, who are busy applying various products on the other members. And just like that, I’m stuck with Suga again.

Remaining completely professional, I look through the products on the table and ask, “Which shade do you usually use?”

He doesn’t say anything at all, only reaches over the table, grabs a pale shade of foundation, and hands it to me.

So I get to work.

“Ah, Mina,” says Hoseok from the seat next to Suga’s.

“Mmm?” I respond. My mind is focused on blending currently, even though it means paying close attention to Suga’s face.

He is the least helpful person I have ever come across.

“The reason we’re wearing pyjamas,” Hoseok says, “It’s because we wanted to have at least one stage with the same feel as our photo shoot.”

He holds out his phone for me to see and flicks through a few photos. Most of their costumes today seem to be inspired by the photo shoot costumes, but I notice that Suga is wearing the exact same pyjamas as before. He must really like them or something.

The photography is actually very good, I observe, especially on one photo that catches my eye. It’s a picture shot from above of Jimin and Suga, and it gives a sense of mystery, yet also a feel of darkness. It’s very well taken. I commend the photographer in my mind, since I have no idea who took the photo. Looking at it in close detail, there’s nothing I would have changed myself.

Hoseok starts to flick to the next photo, but I stop him, still gazing upon the one before. A small chuckle escapes his lips and I frown.

“What?” I ask abruptly.

“Nothing, nothing,” Hoseok insists with a wave of his hand. “Yoongi, this was a good photo of you,” he says, nodding his head to the older member.

I watch as Suga rolls his eyes. “What do you want, Hobi?” he asks.

“Nothing!” Hoseok says again. “No, I really think it’s good. It really captures you best...”

He’s smirking. Why is he smirking?

“...don’t you think, Mina?”

I hate it when people put me on the spot.

“Um... well, yes, I mean the lighting is almost perfect and the angle...”

“You sound like you know a lot about photography,” Hoseok remarks.

“I guess I do,” I admit, “I’ve loved it since I was a child.”

“Mmm,” says Hoseok, “But don’t you think the photo really makes Yoongi and Jimin look very handsome?”

What am I supposed to say to that?

“Hobi!” Jungkook whines, unknowingly coming to my rescue, “If you’re going to show Mina that photo shoot, show her my pictures. They’re much better.”

“Hey,” says Suga, though he doesn’t seem to care much.

“It’s true,” Jungkook argues, “Don’t you think I’m more handsome than Yoongi-hyung, Mina?”

I bite my lip as I struggle to find anything to say in this situation. How do you even answer a question like that?

“What are you guys talking about?” Jimin calls from the other side of the room.

“Hey,” says Jungkook, suddenly getting out of his seat, “Give me your phone, Hobi, so I can prove I’m right.”

“Don’t you think you look handsome enough now?” Hoseok asks with a playful grin.

“Yes, but it’s not the same as-”

Kyung Hee appears in the doorway like an angry storm cloud. “You’re due on stage in two minutes!” she says, practically screeching.

Jungkook immediately retreats to his seat.

“I’ll take over from here, Mina,” says Kyung Hee as she reaches me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask hesitantly, still holding the makeup brush.

Kyung Hee inspects my work and nods. “Good job. Now, go fetch me another coffee.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as I escape the waiting room and head down the hall. Why do they always ask the most awkward questions? I shouldn’t have to give my opinion on general attractiveness. Hoseok crossed the line. I furrow my brows as I storm onwards. I’m not overreacting... am I?

Why should I even care? It’s not like I even find any of them to be handsome. I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. I press the buttons on the coffee machine, still wrapped up in my thoughts. I almost reach for another coffee cup when I slap my hand away.

Old habits die hard.

Except, this has only been going on for maybe a week. How come I’m already so used to getting Suga’s orders? I shake my head and make my way back to the waiting room. The members are just heading out as I reach the door, and I quickly hand Kyung Hee the coffee before she can get any more worked up.

“Ah, Mina, do you have a minute?”

It’s Jimin, being swept along by the others. His hair is silvery blond as it has been for the past few weeks, and he wears a delicate silk shirt in a soft white. And he looks like something’s on his mind.

Suddenly I’m remembering the time I fell asleep on the sofa in the design hall and he woke me up, his face close to mine in curiosity. And the time in the dorm where our eyes met, and the times he called me cute, and said my hair was pretty. And now I’m remembering the time we first met, in Kyung Hee’s makeup studio, when I was startled by his entrance, and equally startled by his exit.

It’s so weird. It’s like we’ve become as close as siblings, and yet like we haven’t.

“Um, I think you need to be on stage now,” I point out under Kyung Hee’s glare.

“Oh, of course,” says Jimin, “Well, then, catch me before the show, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, as he disappears down the corridor.

What could he have to say to me?

I turn back around, only to come face to face with Suga. Again. His hair is perfectly done, his costume is beautiful, and his makeup leaves not one blemish on show. Not that he even has any. But the only thing that keeps him from perfection is the frown on his face when he sees me.

“I think you’re supposed to be on stage for a mic check right about now,” I state, finding it difficult to meet his eyes.

“I know,” he says simply, his voice coming out low and gruff. It’s probably because he has barely spoken all morning.

He doesn’t leave the conversation open for contribution, so I just stand there nodding like a fool. I glance up to see him looking at me, almost in consideration, before he makes a move to leave.
And all he says is, “Excuse me.”

So I step aside and watch him walk past. “Good luck,” I call after him. My voice doesn’t carry down the corridor like it was supposed to. My words become half-hearted.

But to be honest, I don’t think he cares.

The makeup artists are on standby next to the stage – the ones with actual jobs, of course. I am set the task of tidying up the waiting room, thanks to Kyung Hee’s wonderful temper. Don’t ever argue with her. Now, she also won’t pay me back for her second coffee of the day.

I reorganise the makeup counters, sorting foundations by shade and type. Since nobody will be back for a while, I use precision to kill the time. I sweep up with the broom behind the door, dancing in the middle of the room since no one is watching...

“Mina?”

I jump, startled, and spin around. “You shouldn’t do that to people! I’m cleaning and-”

Oh. It’s Jimin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” says Jimin apologetically.

“Ah, it’s okay,” I tell him, hurriedly putting the broom away. “Aren’t you needed with the others right now though?”

“Our mic check is done,” says Jimin, crossing the room to check his phone for a second. “The other members are watching the rookie groups do their checks, since we won’t get to watch later.”

“Ah,” I say, biting my lip. Why did he have to come in right then? I curse myself for dawdling on the job.

“Um, so I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?” Jimin asks, looking hopeful. He sits on the couch in the corner of the room and gestures for me to join him.

“Of... course,” I say hesitantly. “I mean, if you need anything to be retouched, the makeup artists are all by the stage-”

“It’s not about that,” Jimin interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s about you, actually. And, um, me. You see, I didn’t realise but-”

He cuts himself off and starts again, trying to rephrase. “Namjoon and I had a few words yesterday,” he tries to explain. “He made me realise what was happening between you and me. And I wanted to talk to you about it.”

I scratch the back of my head and frown. What is he even talking about? “Jimin...”

I look up only to find him looking straight into my eyes, all serious all of a sudden.

“Mina,” he says, “I think-”

And then, someone walks in.

“Suga?”

My voice comes out all surprised when I say his name. But I think maybe he’s more startled than I am.

He freezes in the doorway, his eyes twitching between me and Jimin. What is he thinking? He closes his mouth, swallows, and the frown that usually rests permanently on his brow disappears.

“Was I interrupting something, Jimin?” he asks rather pointedly.

“No, no, not at all,” Jimin insists. “We were just talking...”

“Mmm,” says Suga idly, crossing the length of the room to the chair he was sitting in not an hour before. He picks up his phone and checks the time. Then he puts it down again.

Jimin suddenly stands up. “How long do we have until the stage?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his silver hair.

“Not long,” Suga replies simply, fiddling with the phone between each hand.

“Did you need something?” Jimin asks, now making a pretence of flicking through his phone. I can tell he’s pretending because I can see he’s only flicking through the home screen. No one does that.

Suga grabs a bottle of water and takes a long draught. “I could do with a coffee, actually,” he muses.

Jimin laughs then. “You know I’d never get you coffee, hyung,” he says.

Suga chuckles too. “I know,” he replies. Then he turns to me. “Mina, an Americano?”

I meet his eyes and clench my jaw. He’s always so irritating. He frowns every time he sees me, and yet he still has the nerve to ask for a coffee.

Jimin looks from him to me, and then back to Suga. “We’ve got some free time, Yoongi,” he says. “We can go and get coffee together-”

“Don’t worry,” Suga cuts in. He meets my gaze and narrows his eyes like he always does. “I’m sure it’s no problem.”

“Didn’t Mina already get you a coffee today?” Jimin points out anxiously.

“Yes.”

“Then why-?”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt.

Both of them turn to stare at me.

“I said it’s fine,” I repeat. “This is my job, after all. But I’ll need the cash.”

Suga digs out some money as I cross the room to take it from him. It grates on my nerves how much taller he is than me, honestly. He’s one of the shortest of the seven, and yet he still stands so much higher above me. But I take the money from him without a word said.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him as I leave. But as I pass through the door to the waiting room, I let out a heavy breath of frustration that I didn’t even know I was holding.

So I fetch his coffee. I’m on autopilot when it comes to the coffee machine now. I don’t hesitate, or read the labels on the buttons. I just make the coffee and return to the waiting room to give it to him.

But he’s already in the corridor before I get there.

“Here,” I say, handing it to him sharply. A few drops of coffee escape and hit the floor like raindrops.

“Hey,” Suga says, holding the coffee away from him as to not ruin his costume before the show.

“At least I got it for you,” I mutter under my breath.

“That’s because I asked you to,” he says.

“You could be a little nicer, though,” I point out, trying my best not to raise my voice. “Do you not have a heart?”

“Hey, I just got you out of there, didn’t I?” Suga argues.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“It was obviously an awkward situation,” Suga mumbles, more focused on his dripping coffee than our conversation.

“It was not awkward!” I protest. But I can feel my cheeks heating up as he laughs at me.

“Whatever you say,” Suga shrugs. “Just take my advice and stay away from Jimin.”

“Why?” I narrow my eyes as I wait for his answer. What does he mean?

“Just because,” he says. “You want to keep your job, don’t you?”

“O-Of course,” I stutter. I shake my head and come to my senses. “What are you talking about? Why will I lose my job?”

“You won’t,” says Suga. He takes a long sip of his coffee and sighs. “Just don’t get into any more trouble.”

“I haven’t gotten into any trouble,” I disagree.

Suga raises an eyebrow.

“Much trouble,” I amend. Then I get frustrated again. “Look, what even is your problem? I haven’t done anything to you.”

Well...

Going in his room without permission; messing with his work; looking at the texts on his phone; spilling coffee all over his shirt; promising to stay out of his way, and then sticking around...

But that’s no reason to hold a grudge... is it?

Suga just sighs and continues to drink his coffee. “Just stay away from him and you won’t lose your job. Believe me, it’s a guarantee.”

“But why?”

“I can’t believe you can’t already see it,” says Suga, shaking his head. “Jimin, he-”

“Hyung, there you are!”

It’s Jungkook. He comes running up the corridor to join us.

“We need to be on stage soon,” Jungkook says breathlessly. “Oh, and Mina? Kyung Hee says to get some tissues and run.”

I nod, though my mind is distracted. “Of course, I’ll be there in two seconds.”

As Suga and Jungkook head towards the stage, I find myself frowning in confusion.

What does this all mean?

Notes

Hi!

So I have a few more days before I go back to school, which means I'm hurriedly writing more chapters to post before the homework load comes in. And it also means that as I post this chapter, the next one is already finished, which makes me very satisfied.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter because the conversation between Mina and Yoongi was very fun to write :) Let me know what you think in the comments if you have a minute, and I'll be back soon with chapter nine <3

See you soon,
asterisk xx