This is year 2018 of my slow-burn, detailed story of Y/N as the eighth member of BTS.
The story is as realistic as possible which means it sticks to dates as well as social and idol "norms". This is not snapshots or short imagines, it does have a t...
It was extremely, extremely hot as we just finished performing at the Lotte Family Concert. We were the final act and were given a long 30-minute slot. Even if the sun had set, the humidity was still raising the temperature to above 35 degrees Celsius. Compared to the boys, I was lucky since I was in shorts, but honestly, I was still sweating buckets, I felt shorts or pants it didn't make much of a difference. And of course, because we were always 100 percent dedicated to each and every performance, we did end up performing the end of Fire to end the show powerfully despite having nearly zero in the tank.
We had just gotten backstage and Jungkook had crumbled on the floor getting some extra oxygen. Jimin was leaning on a staff who was helping him get to our trailer. Even Hoseok was getting some extra assistance with oxygen though he was upright unlike Jungkook.
I'd sat down at the second set of stairs heading off the stage area fully. Staff were fanning me as I denied extra oxygen. I put my throbbing head in my hands breathing heavily. I felt pats on my back and assumed it was some the members as I didn't look up tiredly but saw legs pass by. I stayed here catching my breath and cooling down with a wet towel a stylist had put on my neck for a few more minutes.
"Come on Y/N," I heard Yoona say, grabbing my elbow, "let's get you to some aircon and out of these clothes".
I tiredly nod, getting up and getting changed. I wasn't the last to get to the trailer as it seemed Jungkook wasn't here yet. I changed in a separate partition the staff had made into my own clothes consisting of sweats and a tank top and then basically fell asleep on the lumpy, leather couch. I'm woken up by someone lifting my head and I begrudgingly open my eyes.
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"It's okay, go back to sleep," I recognise Seokjin's voice, "just sitting down".
He rested my head on his legs, stroking my head as he spoke to a staff, and I went back to sleep. Another few minutes later I woke up again.
"Is she okay?" I hear the head stylist ask.
"Yeah, just tired I feel," Seokjin answers them, still stroking my hair, "it was hot today".
He starts patting my head but was obviously not looking where and ends up patting me right on the face, poking my eye. I quickly put my hands to my face and sit up.
"Oh sh*t, sorry," Seokjin laughed.
I just grumbled slowly opening it and blinking repeatedly to see how bad the damage was, which of course it was totally fine.
