Symphony Surprise - MYG

Symphony Surprise

After sitting down and settling in on the red velvet theater seat, I check my phone. 6:45 pm, 15 minutes early. Just how I like it. Just as is proper etiquette at this sort of thing. Setting my phone face down in my lap, I glance at the Yoongi photocard placed in the clear case. His soft smile makes my cheeks warm, and I turn my attention to the stage.

I listen to the performers as they tune their instruments, the chaotic chorus ironically calming my nerves as I anxiously wait for the symphony to begin. I thank my lucky stars as 7:00 draws closer and the seat to my right remains empty. Excellent, I prefer to be around as few people as possible at this sort of thing.

But of course I spoke, or rather thought too soon, as there is a man shuffling past the other spectators further down the row, no doubt coming to claim the only remaining open seat - next to me. Checking my phone once more, the time is now 6:59. One minute to spare. Cutting it a little close don't you think? I roll my eyes, and pay the man little attention as he of course settles in next to me. His elbow bumps lightly against mine, and I know I'm being a brat, but it just makes my annoyance grow. Like come on dude! You're causing a disturbance.

"Sorry, didn't mean to. And I'm cutting it close I know," he says in accented English, his voice sounding eerily familiar.

Setting my phone face down once more, I finally make eye contact with the nearly late stranger. And find eyes that I know very well. The eyes of Min Yoongi. My jaw drops, shock coursing through my body, and recognition flooding over my features. I'm rendered speechless, even though he's waiting for a response to his apology.

As I'm processing my luck, he looks down at my phone case. A slight blush forms on his cheeks, quickly taken over by a smirk that makes my stomach do a hundred backflips. He doesn't say another word, just shifts his body to face fully forward.

Finally snapping out of my trance, I realize what gave me away. I look down at my traitor phone case to see a smaller, printed Yoongi smiling back up at me. I frantically flip my phone over to hide the photocard. Of him. Of YOONGI. Oh, I could just die of embarrassment right now. Unfortunately, as my phone lights up from being exposed to the theater lights, they begin to dim. And the only light I'm left with is the background of my phone screen, which OF COURSE is ALSO a picture of Yoongi. Emergency alarms are firing off in my brain, but I'm quick to stuff my phone into my bag. Unfortunately, I can tell he was quicker because I hear him stifle a laugh, and try to play it off as a cough. He must think I'm so obsessed. And even WORSE, he's not wrong! I'm overwhelmed by the desire to sink into the plush seat and never come out again.

Three pieces in, and I can feel my face and hands again. They had been tingling from adrenaline and embarrassment for the last 15 minutes, but I've finally come to my senses. Just enjoy the symphony you psycho, my thoughts screamed at me. Forcing myself to relax, I do just that, and try not to think about or sneak a peek at the finely dressed man next to me.

I lose myself in the music and genuinely enjoy myself, at times closing my eyes to let the music completely take over my body. This is what heaven must sound like, I think to myself. Next to me, I see Yoongi is also completely relaxed. He seems to be enjoying this just as much as I am, maybe even more. Good, I think, he desperately needs a break.

One more piece until intermission. Panic creeps in again. Part of me, the crazy fanatic part, wants to talk to him, so badly that it feels like every cell in my body could explode. It wouldn't be so bad if I keep the conversation strictly to the performance right?

But the responsible army part of me remembers the most important rule. "If you see BTS in public, no you don't. Act like you don't know them." I literally had just thought he needed a break, why would I interrupt that? I wouldn't. I am a good army.

So I sit there in silence, even after the lights come on for intermission. Not moving a single muscle, not even getting out my phone, mostly to save myself from further embarrassment, as my lock screen and widgets are also... pictures of Yoongi and the other members. No, I'll save myself the shame and just sit here stiff as a board. 5 minutes pass. He's still sitting there. 10 minutes. Neither of us have moved. 15 minutes, which means intermission is almost over.

Just before the lights dim once more, I see him shift. Barely. I might not have even noticed if he hadn't frozen abruptly, ever so slightly turned towards me and then slowly returned to his original posture. Am I imagining things or did The Min Yoongi almost just try to make small talk with me during intermission?

there's no rule against speaking back to them if they talk first....

Alas, the concert has resumed, the moment passed.

The second half of the classical music concert is just as stunning as the first, nay better. As the last piece ends in a long, swelling note, I wipe away the few tears that have fallen. It might seem lame, but coming to the symphony has always been a big part of my life, of my family. I used to come with my grandma, and she has since passed. It's hard not to feel a bit melancholy, knowing she would have loved tonight's performance. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down, and luckily it works.

Until I remember: Yoongi is next to me, and I've likely just ruined my makeup. Awesome!

The soft theater lights brighten up the room slowly, and I shuffle around in my seat to prepare to leave. My phone remains safely inside my purse, and I search silently for a tissue and mirror to assess the damage to my mascara. Snatching the mirror out, I continue searching for my tissues. Blast, I must have used the last of them at the emotional movie I went and saw solo last night. This whole "dating myself" thing is certainly backfiring at this moment.

There's a gentle tap on my shoulder, coming in from the right. No, please. Not that. Slowly, I turn towards him. Him. Casting my eyes down, refusing to make eye contact with my idol while I likely have makeup running down my face.

He reaches out his hand and offers me a perfectly clean tissue. I try to smile gratefully while also hiding my face, hiding my embarrassment. I turn away again, assess the damage done to my makeup and begin dabbing my face. Luckily the tear stains really weren't too bad.

"I always bring some, just in case," he says quietly, kindness and understanding in every word. Of course. Of course, because he's the kindest person alive.

Good enough, I decide, and put on a bright smile as I turn back to him. "Thank you," I say, though my voice shakes a little. Doin my best here, I'm just sitting next to and talking to the love of my life, that's all.

He returns my smile, though in his own soft shy way.

Time passes, too much time, and it becomes awkward. I realize I'm staring. Great, I'm an emotional wreck and creepy in front of him. I bow my head gently, offering one more smile and stand to leave. I turn in the other direction although the end of the row is much closer in his direction. I can't imagine dealing with the whole "would I prefer to shove my crotch or butt uncomfortably close as I pass,"  dilemma when Min Yoongi is the other person involved. No, I'll take the long way out and avoid that debacle altogether, thank you very much.

"You're army?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. But I hear him, and stop in my tracks.

Turning back, I nod once and smile. His skin is glowing in the soft light of the theater, his smile melts my kneecaps, and the way he's looking at me drowns out the rest of the world.

"Am I your bias?" he asks, a slight smirk crossing his usually stoic expression. We both know he already knows the answer to that. Bashfully, I nod again, unable to meet his gaze. He rises out of his seat, slightly intimidating despite the fact that he's not too much taller than me. It's just the presence he has. He takes a half step towards me, reaches out and lifts my chin, gently forcing me to make eye contact.

I swear, his eyes sparkle so much they could contain entire galaxies.

"Pretty," he says, and I can see the sincerity and gratitude in his brown eyes. Offering me one last soft smile, he turns away and leaves the theater quickly, leaving me breathless and wondering if I had imagined it.