Rewrite the Rules

Stolen: Part 75

Months later. On tour. Taipei, Taiwan.

The anticipation vibrated in my bones, a tangible energy that thrummed with each passing day. Unlike last timer, this time I wouldn't be caught off guard. No scrambling for a last-minute gift, no nervous fumbling for words. This time, for our 300th day, I was ready.

I'd become a master of calculated nonchalance, casually toting a suspiciously oversized tote bag everywhere I went. Inside, nestled amongst scarves and travel essentials, lay my carefully chosen gift, a secret waiting to be unveiled. Each day ticked by, the anticipation building like pressure in a sealed container.

Finally, the day arrived. Relief and excitement bubbled in my chest as we landed in Taipei, a vibrant city buzzing with energy for the 2-concert scheduled. It was one of the members rare off-days during the grueling tour schedule, a precious window of time carved out just for us.

The air hung thick with humidity as we stepped out of the hotel, the bustling cityscape a mixture of sights and sounds. We hailed a taxi, the driver's rapid-fire Mandarin a melodic blur. My gaze darted from the window, taking in the unfamiliar sights, yet my mind remained fixated on the gift nestled in my bag, a silent promise waiting to be delivered.

The taxi deposited us outside the imposing glass façade of the Museum of Contemporary Art. Stepping inside, a cool wave of air washed over us, a welcome respite from the stifling heat. Sunlight streamed through expansive windows, illuminating the stark white walls and the modern masterpieces that adorned them.

As we wandered through the gallery, Namjoon's brow furrowed in concentration as he studied each piece. I trailed behind him, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the time, yet the secret in my bag burned a hole in my shoulder.

The gallery was a labyrinth of thought-provoking art installations and abstract paintings. Each piece challenged perception and sparked lively conversation between us.

We debated the meaning behind a swirling sculpture made of recycled plastic, giggled at a video installation featuring dancing chickens, and stood in awed silence before a massive canvas splashed with vibrant colors.

All the while, the weight of the gift in my tote bag grew heavier, not physically, but with the burden of anticipation. I longed to see Namjoon's face when he unwrapped it, the surprise and hopefully, the delight that would light up his eyes. But finding the right minute felt like navigating a minefield.

We stopped in front of a series of black and white photographs capturing the bustling streets of Seoul. A pang of longing for home tugged at my heart. "These remind me of us," I said softly, tracing the outline of a couple holding hands in one of the photos.

Namjoon turned to me, his gaze soft and familiar. "Us, exploring new places, but always finding a piece of home in each other," he replied, his thumb brushing against mine in a silent gesture of affection.

A jolt of electricity ran through me. This, this was the moment. We were lost in our own little world, a bubble of connection amidst the bustling museum. Taking a deep breath, I casually slung the tote bag off my shoulder, pretending to adjust its weight.

"Actually," I began, a hint of nervousness creeping into my voice, "I brought you something."

His eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of curiosity dancing in their depths. "You did?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"For our 300th day," I added, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

Carefully, I reached into the bag and retrieved the wrapped package. It wasn't much to look at, just plain brown paper and a simple ribbon, but inside held the culmination of weeks of planning and the weight of my affection.