Rewrite the Rules

Wardrobe Malfunctions: Part 9

Day two, soundcheck played through me, a familiar current of excitement. Unlike last time, the energy crackled with the unspoken promise – Namjoon's tickets. My first-row seat felt like a dream, the stage a mere arm's length away.

Anticipation coiled in my stomach as the members emerged, their initial absence only amplifying the thrill when they finally took the stage. Today, the air buzzed with a different kind of energy. They weren't singing the usual soundcheck songs, each new melody adding to the electric atmosphere.

Then, Namjoon. He strolled towards the edge of the stage, his gaze sweeping the crowd. A sliver of hope, a silent prayer, bloomed in my chest. Did his eyes linger for a fleeting moment? "One can only hope," I whispered to myself, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

And then, it happened. Our eyes met, a spark igniting across the distance. A slow smile spread across his face, culminating in a playful heart gesture directed straight at me. The world dissolved into a joyous blur. Heat flooded my cheeks, a giddy warmth that threatened to melt me on the spot.

The sound check buzzed with electric energy, a delightful mix of anticipation and screams. Suddenly, the crowd's happy symphony devolved into a confused noise of murmurs and giggles.

Intrigued, I scanned the stage. There, bathed in the harsh spotlight, stood Yoongi. His signature white pants, usually the epitome of cool, were now starring in an unintentional X-rated fashion show. Under the unforgiving glare of the stage lights, left nothing to the imagination.

I attempted to catch Namjoon's attention by waving at him to come to me, as he looked at the commotion. His brow furrowing as he tried to decipher the source of the mayhem. Recognizing there was a situation, he maneuvered right in front of me, finding balance on the stage and leaning forward.

"Yoongi's pants, we can see through them!" I shouted, but he couldn't hear me. I started waving like I was bringing a plane into an airport.

The deafening roar of the crowd faded into background noise as I focused on the mission at hand: Operation Save Yoongi's Dignity (and Possibly My Hearing).

"Yoongi!" I bellowed, my voice barely a squeak over the din. "Pants! See-through, situation happening on stage!" Sadly, my valiant attempt was lost in the swirling chaos.

Frustration bubbled up like a forgotten soda on a hot summer day. Thinking on my feet (should I say, screaming on my vocal cords), I leaned in closer to Namjoon, the faint scent of mint tickling my nose. Security guards, sensing a potential stage invasion by an overzealous fan, well me, swarmed towards us. With a dismissive flick of his hand, Namjoon shut them down, his gaze locked on mine. He removed both of his earpieces.

Taking a deep breath and channeling my inner opera singer, I resorted to yelling with the subtlety of a fog horn.

"Yoongi! White pants! Commando situation! Everyone can see his...um...you know!"

A surprised laugh erupted from Namjoon, a sound that both startled and reassured me. Understanding dawned on his face, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He ran over and cupped his hand around Yoongi's ear, whispering the urgent message.

Across the stage, a look of horror, mixed with a hint of amusement flickered across Yoongi's features. His eyes darted towards me, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Mumbling a quick apology into his microphone something about "artistic expression" gone wrong, he performed a strategic wardrobe adjustment, his microphone hand doubling as a makeshift shield.

A wave of disappointment rippled through the crowd near me, their earlier amusement replaced by groans as Yoongi disappeared downstage, leaving behind a trail of bewildered fans.

"Well, that was impressive," the woman beside me said.

Standing there, the adrenaline slowly draining from my system, I met Namjoon's gaze. A wide grin spread across my face, mirrored by his own. Though the situation was chaotic, a silent understanding had bloomed between us – a hilarious shared secret born from the most unfortunate of wardrobe malfunctions.

And hey, at least I managed to save Yoongi from becoming a permanent fixture on the internet's "Worst Wardrobe Choices" list. You're welcome, Yoongi.

Yoongi returned minutes later, a sheepish grin plastered on his face, thankfully clad in a fresh pair of jeans. The disappointed cries from the surrounding crowd were a testament to the brief wardrobe malfunction, but Yoongi pointedly steered clear of my section for the rest of the soundcheck.

Later, as I scrolled through the photos on my phone, a small sigh escaped my lips. Thankfully, the unforgiving camera captured nothing of the incident. A silent vow formed in my heart – these photos would remain a secret, a hilarious memory shared only between me and the members of BTS.

With a final longing glance at the stage, I slipped out of the venue. The afternoon sun beat down, a stark contrast to the cool, electric atmosphere I'd just left behind. My phone buzzed in my hand, a confirmation for a ride back to the hotel already secured. A wave of satisfaction washed over me – efficiency was sexy.

Back at the hotel, I pampered myself like a queen. Emerging from the shower, revitalized and refreshed, I meticulously planned my concert outfit. Sparkly top? Check. Comfortable yet stylish jeans? Check. The perfect balance of looking my best and being ready to dance the night away. A quick spritz of perfume, a swipe of mascara, and I was ready for something to eat.

A sharp rap on the door shattered the silence, pulling me from my pre-concert prep. I reached for the handle, it swung open, revealing a casually dressed Namjoon. He tossed his shoes aside with the ease of someone entering his own home, walking over to  the window, his gaze snagging on the breathtaking cityscape visible.

"Well, hello!"