I flew into Italy and stayed in Rome for a week, wrapping up details on a separate mission that needed to be smoothed over. It wasn't complex and it didn't take all my time, but it did require a certain level of finesse and diplomacy, which I was skilled in. While in the process of wrapping up the mission, I made arrangements for the trip to Korea. I rented an airbnb, using my human name, within the residential area, not too far from the BigHit building and arranged travel and a car to this location. Knowing that Kim Namjoon would be near to where I was staying would make it easier to follow him and investigate as much as I could of him. I'm sure, in the eyes of humans this would make me appear to be a stalker. The idea made me laugh. Stalker, indeed.
I was alone at this time, not needing a partner to assist me, though I knew that if I needed someone, I could ask. I also knew that this was a path I needed to explore on my own for now. I gave myself a few days after arriving in Korea to get settled and develop the plan for my personal mission before I fully worked out my plan to learn more of Kim Namjoon. To further prepare, I scoured over news articles, watched social media and videos, old, recorded lives and followed whatever news I could of him and his band. In this process I also learned a lot about their fan-base, how dedicated they were and how observant, often like investigators, both seeing things that were and were not there.
Army seemed to be a very good name for them. They were individuals, and each had a voice, but in their love, adoration and sometimes obsession with the Bangtan boys, was a mass force to be reckoned with. In some ways, they were almost frightening in their devotion. I knew that I had to be careful of these people as well. They amused me, but I could not take lightly the idea that they were always watching Bangtan Sonyeondan with a fervor akin to the same as that of an inquisition at worst, and supplicants to a god at best. At least this was how I viewed it as an outsider. These men were divine to some of them. Idol was a fitting title for what they were. Living and breathing graven images. I laughed to myself at the idea, as I tapped on another video on my phone, remembering how Namjoon had called me 'beautiful Louvre girl' in the wrecked car several months ago, being half drunk with the damage to his head. Idol, indeed, but still very human and not like a god at all.
I decided that I would wait near the building where they worked and settled in a corner seat inside a coffee shop not far from it. I had seen the paths, where they were not shadowed, and the potential to run into them in the coffee shop existed. I realized that because the weave of the path showed that any one of the three of their band, that had seen me during the accident, would recognize me, I had to be more careful at this juncture. For this reason I wore dark clothes, with my hair cut shorter to better blend in, and wore a hat and mask. I also wore sunglasses to hide my eyes, as they were distinctive among the predominantly dark eyed Koreans. Sunglasses inside wasn't a common occurrence with others, as I had observed in the past, but it did happen at times, and I had a ready excuse, if asked. "My eyes were sensitive to the light," I always responded.
As I sat in the corner of the coffee shop, drinking tea, and half reading a book, pretending to be engrossed in it, I heard the bell over the door announcing another customer. I looked up briefly and saw a man in an oversized hoodie and loose fitting slacks. He wore sandals on his feet, a baseball cap on his head and a mask on his face. I recognized him from both the numerous pictures I had seen of him, as well as the way his energy felt to me, which was like a signature. It was distinctive. I carefully watched him as he walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee. He glanced over at me, as he waited for his coffee, and I gazed back down at my book. Of all those that had seen my face during the accident, it was possible that Yoongi would be the one who would remember me best and I was not ready to be known yet.
When his coffee was ready, he took it with him as he sat at a table on the opposite side of the store from me. I glanced up at him covertly, opening my mind to hear his thoughts. I caught random thoughts from the others sparsely populating the space, but little from him. 'His mind was a fortress,' I thought to myself. I sent Light into his mind so that I could hear him better and internally laughed when the faint energy of his thoughts wafted over to me, almost like a scent on the breeze. He was going through lyrics in his head that he was trying to work out. The lyrics had a good ring to them, but he wasn't happy with it. I knew it was very frustrating to be stuck when your livelihood depended on it and quietly commiserated with him. I turned a page in the book that I was only half reading, continuing to pretend to mind my own business.
YOU ARE READING
Bridging Destinies
FantasyThe last things she wanted was to fall in love with another human. Life had other plans. The mystery called to her, as it did to him. They were drawn like magnets: destined to learn the art of profound and deep love, only to lose it, then find it ag...