BTS - The Eighth Member

Wardrobe Malfunction

"Ahh, Unnie!" I twirled around the dressing room, "I love it. I look so good." My stylist smiled at me jumping around.

She styled me in the cutest yellow flowery top, it had flared sleeves and tied around my neck to leave an open back. It was paired with a playful white tennis skirt, with gold embellishments. It was the perfect look for this stage, I felt like I floated around the room.

"Go and get your mic set up." She smiled, straightening out the sleeves of my top.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed before dashing out of the room and through the backstage. Out of breath, I stopped next to the rest of the guys, just by the steps to the stage, allowing one of the tech staff to hook up my mic. It usually played out like this when we performed, me rushing around last minute trying to sort my life out.

"BTS to stage." My in ear piece hummed at me. We stood in a circle, Namjoon giving his regular, but highly motivating speech for the performance.

It had been a while since we'd been in Japan, and I couldn't wait to perform for our Japanese Army. I always made a special effort at our stages here to speak in Japanese to our fans, it gave me a great excuse to practice it with native speakers.

Adrenaline pumping through me, I heard the signature beginning of DNA whistling at me. The eight of us ran up the steps, taking our places. Army were cheering and waving their bombs seeing our shadows appear on stage. I was in my element, a smile beaming ear to ear.

The concert played out without any hitches, right until the last song, Fake Love. It was probably the most upbeat of our entire set, making it incredibly difficult as we were all exhausted by this stage.

Trying to control my heaving breathing I took my place for the final time, almost immediately after the song started I felt the back of my shirt rubbing against the nape of my neck. The knot that was holding the entire top together was coming loose.

Panicking slightly, I ignored it as I sang my part, but as soon as I returned to my dancing, I had no choice but to grapple at it. Holding my top up in one hand, and my mic in the other I did my best to keep up with the dance. I was hoping that I wasn't making it too obvious that I was completely panicking, but the fan-cams would have caught it.

Of course the guys noticed me at war with my shirt, but catching each of their eyes I gestured for us to keep going. I did my best, although the performance was lacking as I couldn't fulfil all the arm movements. A few times, I almost lost my grip on the loosening knot, and I'm sure the audience got some unintended glimpses of my bra, but I tried to keep it professional.

As soon as the lights dimmed at the end of the song Yoongi slid behind me, retying the top, tightly. I whispered a thank you, but the mics caught it, and through the shadows Army could guess what happened, the audience erupted in a chorus of cheers, louder than I think we'd ever heard.

We stumbled off the stage after bidding goodbye to our fans, sweat sticking to our foreheads and struggling for breath.

"You alright?" Namjoon clapped a hand on my shoulder as I hunkered down.

"Yeah. Yeah." I sighed.

"Good job on keeping it professional" He gave me a reassuring nod before continuing off stage.

"I'm going to kill that stylist." Jimin smiled like a maniac behind me as I rose to my feet.

"Relax, Jimin." I caught him, "It wasn't her fault, she put about a hundred pins in it."

"One hundred wasn't enough." He grumbled.

"Yoongi got it for me at the end. It's alright."

"We hope." He answered, "H, your top was coming loose the whole performance, god knows what people caught on video."

"Thanks for the reassurance." I ran my hands through my hair, taking water from a staff member.

"Hana!" My stylist came running from the dressing room as Jimin and I walked down the corridor, "I'm so sorry. I should never have sent you out in that."

"Yeah. You shouldn't have." Jimin mumbled at my side, frowning intensely. The stylist went bright red.

"Oppa!" I scolded, before turning back to her, "It's okay, honestly. I loved the outfit, mistakes happen."

"I really am sorry." She looked so downcast.

"Unnie, it's fine." I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a quick hug. Usually we didn't do anything like that with our staff and Jimin looked taken aback, but I couldn't help it, she looked so upset.

"Come on." Jimin tugged at me, "Let's go meet the rest of the guys."

I gave a reassuring smile to the stylist before following after Jimin, as we entered the room the guys were crowded around someone's phone.

"Please tell me my boobs aren't plastered all over the internet." I braced myself for the response.

"No. No." Yoongi answered, "You're good. They could see your bra here and there but for the most part you were decent."

Thankfully, Yoongi was right. I watched back the performance, and for the panic I was feeling in my mind, it turned out okay.

By the time the next day came, the press were commending my professionalism and the only picture circling was that of Yoongi helping me at the end, Army's shipping us left right and centre.

(There's a watermark on this that says Yoonnieverse but then in the top left there's another watermark that says SUGAcoffee, so whoever owns this edit, this is me crediting u)

A/N: I originally had something completely different written for this chapter but I hated it and deleted it all lmao. I ended up doing this instead, it's not the greatest thing I've ever written but it's not terrible. Remember if you have any ideas you can send them my way. See you next time!