Glitter and Gunshots

I KNOW, I KNOW, IT'S SO LONG, BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH AND IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO COME UP WITH, SO PLEASE APPRECIATE AND COMMENT!! As much as I loveeee writing about my baby JK, I also think the chemistry between the entirety of BTS is so inspirational and cool that I HAD to give an in-detail description of what I imagined their circus to be like. NGL, I had to work really hard to decide on their outfits, and their individual talents, so please lmk what you think!! pLuS it's kinda a triple update in one. So. Enjoy <3 <3 :) 

You wove through the thick crowd of people, trying not to inhale too deeply for fear of getting high off the fumes in the stadium. You wrinkled your nose as you passed a group of women who reeked of cheap perfume, then swerved to the side to give a suspiciously smelling group of sleazy-looking middle aged men a wide berth.

You progressed deeper into the crowd, which moved like it was one breathing, undulating creature as it rose and fell, roared and hushed. You sidestepped cigarette buds, sidled past drunk couples getting a little too into their make out sessions, and ignored the catcalls and jeers from around you.

What could you say, the options for dresses had been limited.

You'd arrived earlier at the grounds of the circus, watching and waiting from afar till you found what you were looking for.

A young couple, hopelessly passionate about each other, unable to hold back their desires...

You'd winced at the sight of steam fogging up the glass of their truck windows.

Silently, you'd snuck up to the car. With every thud or thump that came from the inside, you grew increasingly uncomfortable. The second the perfect opportunity presented itself, you peeked your head in the front window.

The two girls were busy in the back, allowing you to sneak your hand into the driver's seat and swipe the loose pair of stilt-like black heels and the silky black dress one had strewn aside in her vigor.

The second you had the goods in your hands, you bolted.

Finally, after an hour of pickpocketing makeup products and applying said products, you were about as disguised as you could be. While it wasn't much, and nowhere near perfect, you hoped people would be too busy watching the circus to be watching you.

Perhaps even the notion you'd be noticed was narcissistic.

Nah, that was just the paranoia.

The dress itself was terribly itchy, the inside frayed, the material tight and loose in the wrong spots. On the bright side, though, you fit the vibe of the crowd around you. As far as anyone else could tell, you were just another thrill-seeking youngster checking out the town's darkest, hottest new attraction.

It was sticky out, the air being the kind of humid that accompanies a swamp or settles heavily air before a downpour. Your hair, brushed as nicely as you managed, clung to the back of your neck with sweat. Droplets of perspiration had formed on your brow and upper lip, threatening to ruin your makeup—aka, the only disguise you really had.

But as you ran into a group of people, apologizing profusely before giving them a sheepish, innocent grin, then continuing on, you knew it was worth it.

You looked down at your hand, at the money you'd just swiped from the man's wallet.

Too easy.

You pushed onwards, inadvertently slipping out men and women's pockets and money, unlooping bracelets, yanking off necklaces, and popping into the cars, RVs, and tents.