Dangerous Woman - BTS 8th Member

girls night in

Schedules never really cooperated anymore. If they were lucky, they'd squeeze in a three-way FaceTime for an hour, usually with one of them being dragged away mid-call by a manager, a choreographer, or someone yelling, "Unnie, five minutes!"

Grace had been on her solo world tour and only wrapped it up a day ago. IU had just finished filming a drama no one even knew she'd been in because she'd sworn the entire set to secrecy. Chaelin was splitting herself between 2NE1 reunion work and her own solo projects. Everyone was everywhere, all at once.

The last time they'd been in the same room was March, when Grace opened her Seoul tour dates. Now it was late June. Between then and now, it had been group chats pinging at random hours, bouquets turning up at stages across continents, and promises of "When things calm down" that never quite landed. The friendship held steady, but time wasn't generous.

Grace had come offstage Friday night, stumbled through the door half-delirious, and woke up Saturday to a house full of reunited BTS members: loud, affectionate, chaotic. Not that she minded; they were eight again. But she had forgotten what it felt like to share oxygen with seven grown men who acted like overexcited puppies. They also hadn't remembered that, sometimes, their noona needed tea in total silence before she could tolerate being breathed near.

Monday finally came empty, no call time, no rehearsal room, and no cameras. Just quiet. She padded around the house in socks, hair tied up, and makeup forgotten. Jin had gone to a filming schedule in the morning and came back an hour ago, humming as he tidied their takeaway boxes and cleaned dishes they could've easily left until morning.

Grace was stretched across the sofa, fingers tapping lazily at her phone screen, the kind of relaxed that only comes after months of not remembering what relaxed felt like. The room was soft, sun dipping low, Jin clinking around the kitchen, the hush after months of arenas still settling into her bones.

Then her phone pinged. And then pinged again.

Her eyes drifted towards the notification from where she had been watching a TikTok and saw it was the girls' group chat that Chaelin had named: 'Queens of KPop.'

Chaelin: I fancy sushi, wine and gossip. Anyone free?

IU: I literally got home, but I can be ready to go in 10 minutes!

Grace glanced at the group chat, then towards the kitchen, where Jin was finishing up cleaning.

"Jin?" she called.

"Mm?"

"Hypothetically," she began, "if two hurricanes in human form asked to descend on our living room with sushi and gossip... would you object?"

Silence long enough to hear typing, then a soft ding. "Yoongi has approved the escape plan," Jin announced, sliding his phone into his pocket.

"You don't have to leave," she protested, sitting up to peek over the back of the couch.

He snorted and disappeared into the bedroom. Thirty seconds later, he remerged like a man departing for a week-long expedition: cap on, backpack stuffed, and air of wounded nobility intact. He dropped the bag by the door just as Min-ji padded over to investigate.

"I'm not wedging myself between three of the most powerful women in K-pop discussing men and skincare," he said gravely.

Her phone buzzed.

Chaelin: Grace, don't you dare pretend you're busy. Your tour just ended.
IU: We can come to you. We'll bring food and leave our chaos at the door.
Chaelin: I will not leave my chaos at the door. My chaos is designer.