Dangerous Woman - BTS 8th Member

GRACE TOUR DIARY: April 18th 2025, Paris & London

APRIL 17TH & 18TH - PARIS & LONDON

By 11 p.m., the Accor Arena was nearly empty, the roar of thousands now replaced with the low thrum of forklifts and voices calling cues. Crew members were still packing the final load of flight cases, while stadium staff swept through confetti-strewn aisles and folded up stray banners left behind. But backstage, things had calmed. The storm had passed.

The dancers had already been loaded into waiting cars bound for the hotel, where they'd have a night to rest before flying to London the next day. The rest of the crew, stylists, choreographers and techs, were finishing up the last of their clear-out, boxing up costumes, coiling wires, and sealing wardrobe trunks, ready to be shipped overnight and getting themselves ready for their flights tomorrow.

For Grace, Seokjin, Hana, Sejin, and two of their security team, it was time to move.

The transformation from onstage icon to just Grace had already happened. The makeup was wiped clean, her blonde hair brushed out and braided into a loose plait. She wore soft grey joggers, a hoodie two sizes too big (one of Seokjin's), and trainers, her essentials tucked into a crossbody bag. Seokjin had changed too, into jeans and a sweatshirt, low cap pulled over his brow.

Sejin led them through a dim corridor behind the arena, one only known to staff, skirting past final pockets of lingering fans and the last security checks. Just beyond the rear gates, their SUV waited with engines humming and doors already open.

"Jet is ready," Sejin confirmed, helping Hana and the bodyguards load the remaining luggage into the boot, bags that had been packed that morning in preparation for the overnight jump to London.

Grace let out a long, exhausted breath as she folded into the cool leather seats. The cushions swallowed her up, and she leaned her head back, eyes fluttering closed for a second. Seokjin reached across the seat and rested a hand gently on her thigh, grounding her with a soft squeeze.

"You still buzzing?" he asked as the car pulled away from the venue, the glowing Accor Arena slowly fading into the rearview mirror.

"A little," she murmured, her voice low and raw. The adrenaline still fizzed at the edge of her nerves, but she could already feel the weight of fatigue pulling at her. "But I'll sleep. I always crash after."

Paris was slipping into its midnight hush as they made their way through the city. The streets were still alive, late-night cafés, neon-lit corner shops, and taxis ferrying concertgoers back to hotels and train stations. Fans had scattered, some to AirBnBs, some to hotels, some to friends' couches, some still clinging to the experience as they scrolled through fancams under streetlamps. But the buzz of the night still hung over the city like smoke from fireworks.

The drive to Le Bourget, the private jet terminal on the outskirts of Paris, took just over half an hour. When they arrived, the sleek black jet was already waiting for them on the tarmac, engines silent but prepped.

A chill wind whipped across the runway, and Grace shivered as she stepped out of the car. Seokjin, without missing a beat, transferred their carry-on bags into one hand and pulled her in close with the other, his arm wrapped warmly around her shoulders.

Airport security was brisk; there were no lines or press, just a few nods and a flash of IDs as they moved through the private terminal. Sejin's planning had smoothed every wrinkle before they even arrived.

They silently crossed the lit runway, the hum of night surrounding them. Inside the jet, the cabin was softly lit and inviting. Tea, warm towels, and a spread of late-night snacks were waiting. Blankets and slippers had already been placed on the leather recliners. Hana and Sejin sank into their usual spots, immediately reaching for laptops and phones, already looking ahead to the schedule for London.