Generations Expectation's | 8th member of BTS

23

| Korean Words meaning |

Anything in regular font = Korean

Anything in Italics = English

Anything in Bold = Spanish

Anything in Bold & Italics = Any other language besides Spanish, Korean, or English

*Time Skip, Was February 10th. Now February 11th*

4 months, and 04 days till BTS debut.

Last night granted me one of the most restful sleeps in months. No anxiety attacks, no Jungkook-laden nightmares. It was a serene oasis of tranquility. Silence enveloped me like a warm embrace, and when I awoke twenty minutes before my alarm was due, I found myself rejuvenated, profoundly well-rested, and even content. The day ahead shimmered with anticipation. An eventful day was on the docket - another round of choreography practice for "We Are Bulletproof".
I believed we had finally honed it to near perfection, but the relentless rehearsal was imperative to eradicate any lingering creases or flaws. Subsequent to this, we had to revisit some background and chorus vocals. The previous session had been curtailed due to the producer's sudden "hair emergency". Our industry was yet to take us seriously; we were often regarded as fledgling nobodies. Nevertheless, our teaser was slated for release soon, and my face had been earmarked for heightened exposure. The boys and our entire team were brimming with excitement. In a matter of days, we'd unveil a video disclosing our main track, followed by the gradual rollout of video diaries for our fans. Speaking of fans, the meeting to christen our fandom name loomed on the horizon. Every piece of the puzzle was snapping into place.

I gingerly extricated myself from the embrace of my sheets, determined to invest my free twenty minutes in a call to my aunt. I yearned for her company, and truth be told, I had been evading her calls for far too long. Her voice radiated elation upon hearing from me. The timing was convenient; it wasn't too late for them, even though Cassie and Gabe were already cocooned in their beds, dreams keeping them company as they readied themselves for another school day. I grinned broadly as my aunt's image graced my screen - she was beautiful as ever, her makeup abandoned and her hair artlessly bundled for bed. We caught up on myriad subjects. I rendered my apologies, blaming my training and preparation for our impending debut for my irregular calls, though I acknowledged this wasn't the full truth. But it was a beginning. For the first time in a while, I hadn't woken up ensnared in a gloomy mood, chastising myself for clinging to feelings for Jungkook. I felt, dare I say, alright - possibly even happy. Auntie regaled me with the usual updates: tidbits about my old friends, the swirl of drama in the dance studio, the nearby BBQ joint's shut down for renovations, and the subsequent handover of the reins to the older son. Such a pity, as I had quite a fondness for the elder owner's culinary offerings. But Auntie predicted a transformation into one of those Instagram-worthy sushi hotspots that have a stranglehold on the Greater Cleveland area. That's how life progressed.

For twenty minutes, we navigated a sea of small talk, reconnecting on mundane alterations. She didn't press for more details about my prolonged absence, my phase of radio silence. Behind her eyes, I detected a burgeoning curiosity, the itch to delve into what had transpired and how I had transformed. Yet, today wasn't the day for unearthing those secrets. Just as the alarm on my phone began to pierce the air, silencing Auntie's words, I informed her of the day's rehearsals. Her expression turned slightly mournful, reluctant to part ways, but she didn't detain me. Her farewells were ingrained with love and longing. She reminded me to call her later, and I offered a promise I wasn't certain I could keep.