Chapter 1: An Ordinary Life

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The ceiling fan hummed lazily as Y/N sat at her desk, her fingers poised over the keyboard but unmoving. The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows on the walls of her small bedroom. A cup of tea, now lukewarm, sat neglected next to her. She had promised herself she would finish this project by the end of the day, but the inspiration seemed to have slipped through her fingers, leaving her staring blankly at the half-finished design on her screen.

The house was quiet, the muffled sounds of her parents talking in the living room barely reaching her ears. For a brief moment, she glanced at the time in the corner of her computer screen: 4:47 PM. It was still a few hours before dinner, but the familiar sense of dread was already creeping up her spine. Her mother would start soon—asking her about the proposals she'd sent to prospective families for marriage, bringing up the topic of settling down like it was the only thing that mattered now.

Y/N sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She had always known this day would come—the day when her parents, loving but steeped in tradition, would begin nudging her towards marriage. Twenty-two, they had said, was a good age. Her elder cousins were all either married or engaged by now, and her younger sister would probably be next. There was no escaping it.

Her eyes drifted back to the screen, trying to refocus. She'd been working as a graphic designer for two years now, ever since graduating from college. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills, and she was good at it. But today, her thoughts were scattered, and her mind kept wandering to places it shouldn't go.

As if on cue, the soft ping of a notification pulled her attention. Her phone buzzed gently next to her keyboard, and she glanced down to see a familiar name on the screen: Jungkook's Weverse Notification.

Her heart skipped a beat, a sensation she was all too familiar with. It was silly, really, how much one person—someone she had never met, never even come close to—could have this kind of effect on her. Jungkook. The youngest member of BTS. Her favorite. Her safe place.

Without thinking twice, she unlocked her phone and opened the app. His face greeted her, smiling into the camera, the familiar backdrop of their practice room behind him. His voice, soft and warm, filled the quiet space around her, and she felt an immediate sense of comfort wash over her, the stress of the day momentarily forgotten.

For as long as she could remember, BTS had been her escape. The pressures of her daily life, the expectations, the insecurities she carried—they all melted away when she listened to their music, watched their performances, or caught up on their lives through interviews and livestreams. It was an obsession she kept mostly to herself. Her parents knew she was a fan of K-pop, but they didn't understand the extent of it. Her friends teased her about it, but none of them shared the same passion. It was her thing, and she liked it that way.

But lately, it has started to feel like more than just a hobby. It was becoming an anchor, something she clung to a little too tightly. Especially when it came to Jungkook. There was something about him—the way he carried himself, his quiet yet intense look, his dedication to his craft—that resonated with her. He made her feel seen, in a strange, distant way, as though he understood what it felt like to be striving for something more while dealing with the weight of expectations.

The video continued playing as she glanced at the designs on her screen. She was supposed to be creating a new concept for a corporate client, but the ideas just wouldn't flow. Her mind was elsewhere, caught between the quiet life she led in her hometown and the chaotic, larger-than-life world of BTS that she longed to be a part of.

Y/N's fingers hovered over the keyboard again, hesitating. Maybe she was destined for an ordinary life, one where she would marry someone her parents approved of, have children, and settle into the rhythms of domesticity. The thought filled her with a kind of resigned sadness, a sense of inevitability that weighed heavy on her chest. She loved her family, and she knew they only wanted what was best for her, but there was a part of her—a quiet, desperate part—that yearned for something more. Something that felt alive.

The video ended, and she turned off her phone, the room suddenly feeling too quiet. She pushed her chair back and stood up, stretching her stiff limbs. Maybe a walk would clear her head. She grabbed a light shawl and slipped on her sandals before heading out into the narrow streets of her neighbourhood.

The evening air was warm but not unpleasant, the faint smell of jasmine in the air as she walked past the small houses lined up neatly along the road. Children played cricket in the open field nearby, their laughter ringing out as they chased the ball. The sights and sounds of home were familiar, comforting, but they also carried a weight of expectations she wasn't sure she could live up to.

As she walked, her thoughts drifted back to Jungkook, as they often did. She had never told anyone just how deeply she admired him, not even her closest friend, Adhi. It was something she kept close to her heart, a secret she wasn't ready to share. After all, what was the point? He was a world away—literally and figuratively. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life had been waiting for something, or someone, to change it. Maybe it was silly, maybe it was childish, but part of her held on to the belief that her story wasn't meant to end here, in this small town, in this ordinary life.

The sound of her phone buzzing in her pocket snapped her out of her reverie. She pulled it out to see a message from Adhi.

Adhi: "Hey, got a minute? Need to talk about the new project. Also, dinner tomorrow? My treat."

She smiled at the message. Adhi was her closest friend at work, someone who had seen her through the highs and lows of the last few years. He was always there, a steady presence in her life, even though she sometimes felt like she was drifting farther away from him with each passing day.

Y/N: "Sure, call me. And dinner sounds great."

She pocketed the phone and turned back toward her house, her mind already shifting gears to focus on the work conversation she would have with Adhi. As she walked, though, the quiet yearning inside her remained, a small flame that refused to be extinguished. The world she lived in was safe, predictable, but there was a part of her that longed to break free, to find something bigger than herself, something worth risking everything for.

---

Later that night, after dinner with her family, Y/N sat on the floor of her room, her sketchbook open in front of her. She often sketched when she couldn't sleep, letting her thoughts flow through the tip of her pencil in the hopes that it would quiet her mind.

Tonight, though, her thoughts were louder than usual. Her mother had brought up marriage again at dinner, casually mentioning a family that was interested in meeting her. Y/N had nodded politely, not wanting to start an argument, but inside, she felt like she was suffocating. The idea of being tied down to someone she didn't even know, of living a life she hadn't chosen for herself, was terrifying.

Her pencil moved across the page, sketching out rough lines and shapes, but her mind was elsewhere. She thought about BTS, about the life Jungkook must lead. He was always moving, always striving, always pushing himself to be better. He had faced obstacles, dealt with pressure, but he had kept going. His determination inspired her, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could push through her own fears and find a way to live the life she wanted.

But what kind of life was that? She didn't know. All she knew was that it wasn't this.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at the screen. Another message from Adhi, this time a link to an article about a new design trend. She smiled, grateful for his friendship, but part of her couldn't help but wonder what he would think if he knew how lost she felt. He had always been so sure of himself, so grounded, while she felt like she was constantly drifting, never quite fitting into the mold her family and society had laid out for her.

As the hours ticked by, Y/N continued sketching, her thoughts circling around the same familiar themes—work, family, expectations, and the quiet, unspoken dreams she held inside.

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