Dream came True

~3~

« Amar POV »

The first day was their concert, and I made sure to be seen—not just seen, but noticed—as a VIP backstage guest. I had access because, well, I was responsible for their outfits. And I wasn't there just for work—I wanted them to remember my face back at the hotel.

Over the next few days, I was always in their line of sight, surrounded by assistants, talking on calls, orchestrating everything like the professional I am. My manager friend helped spread whispers about me—how I was a very important guest, how pretty I looked, how hard I worked. Rumors even started circulating that I was the creator of SPRING, my brand.

After their five-day concert run ended, they began spending more time in the hotel. I was always there—at breakfast, lunch, dinner. Always polished, always visible.

First conversation:

It happened over breakfast. I was picking up my food when I 'accidentally' bumped into Jimin.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," I said, flustered. "I'm not in my right mind these days. Work has been overwhelming."

"No problem," he replied, calm and soft-spoken.

I squinted. "Wait... aren't you Jimin from BTS?"

He chuckled. "Yes. I've actually been hearing about you."

My heart skipped. "Really? Good things, I hope."

"Very good, honestly. But... you don't look Korean. How do you speak it so well?"

"One of my hobbies is learning languages."

"That's really impressive. Okay, enjoy your meal."

"You too."

« Jimin POV »

This girl—I don't even know her name yet—but she's fascinating. During our first concert, I noticed her rushing around backstage, handling everything with precision. It made me curious.

And then the staff... everyone whispers about her. Like it's rehearsed. But when I finally spoke to her, I got it.

She's stunning. Her long brown hair, the way she speaks, her smile—and her Korean is flawless. I want to know more.

« Amar POV »

After that, I kept running into them during meals. I could feel Jimin watching me, but I was too busy admiring Taehyung's beauty.

Then one evening, J-Hope invited me to dinner with them. The only empty seat was beside Jimin. I took it.

We talked for a long time, learning about each other. He was charming, thoughtful.

Eventually, I stood. "I have an early workday tomorrow," I lied.

I made my way out, but a sharp crack echoed behind me. My heel snapped, and before I could react—I was on the floor.

Pain shot through my ankle.

The members rushed over.

"I'm okay," I insisted, even as I bit my lip against the pain.

Jimin and Taehyung helped me up, but I refused further help. I forced myself toward the elevator, dragging my injured foot.

Back in my room, I iced my ankle, trying not to cry.

Then—a knock.

"Who is it?"

"Amar, it's me—Jimin."

Panic. I jumped up, adjusting my too-short shirt.

I opened the door. "Jimin! How can I help you?"

"I came to check on you," he said, his eyes immediately dropping to my foot.