[One Week Later – Amar’s POV]
Today’s the day—my Army Collection is finally launching. I’ve worked so hard for this. It’s the first time I’ve included both women’s and men’s lines, and my entire team has been grinding non-stop to bring it to life.
I’ve been at the company since morning, running all over the place: checking the final outfits, confirming model readiness, making sure everything is flawless. My mind is racing—
Are the models experienced enough? Will ARMY love the collection? Are the fabrics comfortable? Is my outfit too much? Does my hair look good? Are the boys coming? Are the guests okay? Drinks—are the drinks ready?!
My heart’s pounding in my chest. No, no, no—breathe, Amar.
It’s not your first show. You’ve done this before. Nothing will go wrong.
I head to the dressing room and change into my look: a sharp mini skirt paired with a full-button shirt tucked neatly in. (Yes, I know it’s winter—but I’m always cold anyway, so it doesn't matter.) My hair’s in a high ponytail, curled like a sleek horse's tail, light makeup, and glasses to finish the vibe.
I sneak a peek through the curtain—and my breath catches.
Photographers. Reporters. VIP guests. All from the upper elite.
Oh my God… they actually came.
I’m proud. I won’t lie. I may not be "famous" in the traditional sense, but this moment? This feels big.
The show begins.
Models—both male and female—walk the runway with fierce, bold energy. Every strut, every turn, every look is perfect. My heart leaps. I’m bouncing like a kid behind the curtain.
Act like a professional, Amar. You’re not new to this anymore.
Then comes the applause—thunderous. Ear-shattering. Overwhelming.
I step out, give my speech, and I know—tonight was a success.
After dinner with the VIP guests, I finally return home. Exhausted. Heels off. Hair down. Straight to bed—makeup still on. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
---
The Next Morning
I wake up, groggy but curious. First thing—grab phone.
Notifications. Hundreds. No—thousands.
DMs flooded with “Congrats!!” “You nailed it!” “Proud of you!!”
I scroll through Instagram casually until my eyes lock on a post with my name.
Wait.
Waitwaitwait—
WHAT?!
I GOT NOMINATED FOR THE CFDA AWARD?!
Is this real? Is the post fake? My hands are shaking.
I fly to their official website.
It’s real.
It’s real.
I GOT NOMINATED.
Without thinking, I sprint to Jimin’s room and burst in, door slamming against the wall.
“JIMIN! I GOT NOMINATED FOR THE CFDA! JIMIN I—GOT—NOMINATED!!” I shout, grabbing him, shaking him.
He springs out of bed and hugs me tight.
We start jumping on the bed like maniacs, laughing like kids.
“WOOOHOOOOO JIMIN I’M SO HAPPY!!”
“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, BABY!!”
“What the heck is going on here?” Suga’s voice calls out sharply from the doorway.
“AMAR GOT NOMINATED FOR THE CFDA!” Jimin answers, not letting go of my hands.
Within seconds, Jin and Jungkook appear, jumping on the bed too. Then Taehyung walks in, gives me a strong, warm hug, and congratulates me, while Hobi, Suga, and RM stand in the doorway—smiling quietly, pride in their eyes.
“Amar,” Tae says, “you need to stop jumping.”
“Why?! I’m happy!” I say, laughing, breath catching.
“That’s exactly why,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Your heart won’t handle it.”
“Who asked you to worry?! I don’t care!” I tease, sticking my tongue out.
But… he’s right.
I start panting, leaning on my knees, my vision blurring.
“Amar? You okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice sharp with concern.
I can’t see their faces clearly now, but I catch the flash of panic in Jimin’s eyes.
Before they panic, I gather myself.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “I’ll just freshen up. I’m treating everyone to dinner tonight.”
I walk off, closing the door behind me.
I know I should go to the hospital.
But what’s the point? I already know my condition.
Doctors won’t say anything new—only try to cage me in, limit me.
I’m not ready to be that patient. Not yet. Not today.
---
After washing up and wiping off my makeup, I apply a soft glow and start getting ready again. A gentle knock on the door pulls me back.
“Come in,” I call, dabbing eye cream.
Tae steps in, arms crossed. “You need to go to the hospital.”
I sigh. “Ughhh, I regret ever telling you.”
“Amar,” he says, voice gentle but firm. “Adam said you need regular check-ups. You haven’t gone in months. Your heart’s weaker.”
I stare at him. “And who’s Adam to be telling me what to do?”
“He’s been your friend since birth. He knows you. He cares.”
My eyes narrow. “This isn’t your business. I can deal with it—alone.”
I brush past him and head downstairs.
I know I was harsh.
Tae doesn’t deserve that—especially when he’s only trying to help.
But it’s the only way I can silence the worry in others.
Because if they worry too much, they’ll make me worry too.
And right now?
Right now, I just want to live.
YOU ARE READING
Dream came True
RomansaI am writting a series about BTS fanfic and this is the first story in the series (jimin fanfic) He came closer to me holding my freezing hands with his warm ones then he moved one of them to me chin holding it gently lifting my face higher to mat...
