Wrong number? || BTS

54. The Crowd, Voice and BTS

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The car hummed quietly as it cruised through the glowing city streets. From the backseat, Y/N stared out the tinted window, watching as Seoul passed by in streaks of neon and blur. Her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh — a silent rhythm of nerves.

She caught her own reflection faintly in the glass. The dark dress, the styled hair, the carefully done makeup. She looked… unfamiliar. Like someone who belonged somewhere else.

“You're really quiet,” Namjoon’s deep voice cut through gently.

Y/N turned her head to find him already watching her from the seat beside her, his posture relaxed, one arm casually resting on the back of the seat.

“Just… nervous, I guess,” she admitted.

Namjoon gave a soft, knowing chuckle — the kind that always seemed to settle the air around him. “Well, for what it’s worth,” he said, eyes dipping briefly over her outfit, “you look amazing.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I mean it. The dress, the boots, the whole vibe. You’re pulling it off like a pro. Like someone who does this every week.”

She glanced down at herself — the short black dress paired with a denim jacket, accessories minimal, makeup soft and clean. “It’s just clothes,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but not everyone can make ‘just clothes’ look like a soft threat.”

Y/N let out a laugh. “A soft threat?”

Namjoon shrugged innocently. “You’ve got that vibe. Like you’re sweet, but also like you’d push someone offstage if they tested you.”

She snorted. “Wow. I feel so flattered.”

“You should,” he teased, nudging her shoulder gently. “Honestly, if I were a fan outside, I’d be screaming for you instead of us.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re just saying that because I’m stuck in a car with you and can’t run away.”

He feigned offense. “Excuse you, I happen to be very charming when trapped in small spaces.”

“Is that your go-to flirt line?”

Namjoon grinned, the dimple in his cheek making a brief appearance. “No, that’s just the warm-up.”

She shook her head, laughing again. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned back in his seat, content. “You’re calming down, though.”

She glanced at him, surprised. “What?”

“You were tense when you got in. Shoulders tight. Hands in your lap. But now you’re laughing. That’s good.”

Something about the way he said it — observant, thoughtful — made her chest warm a little. He didn’t just look at people. He saw them.

Before she could reply, the car slowed as they approached the venue.

And then—

The sound hit them like a tidal wave.

Screams. Chants. Fans lined up across the barricades, flashing lightsticks, holding signs, bouncing on their heels with energy. The excitement was palpable even from inside the vehicle.

Namjoon looked toward the window and smiled. “Guess they’re ready.”

Y/N stared, a bit overwhelmed. “There’s so many of them.”