Stylist {j.h} A BTS Fanfiction - ON HIATUS

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Him

I quickly exited the stage as we left to prep for the next set. I was drenched in sweat but I still managed to smile. I loved performing. Giving the dances my all, singing until I could barely speak, hearing the roar of our fans. It was what I lived for. 

I scanned the prep room in search of my new stylist. I spotted her head bobbing up and down as she tried to see over the crowded room. I grinned and pushed my way over to her through the throng of staff and members. I brushed up against RM as I passed. He nodded questioningly in her direction. 

"Who's the newbie?"

"A temp for Somin," 

He quirked up an eyebrow at me. "Is she single?" I barked a laugh. "You gotta admit, J-hope, she's pretty cute."

I rolled my eyes. "I just met her today, RM."

He put up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Just saying,"

I barked a laugh before letting him get dragged away by his own stylist. I glanced around for Hata. She had moved to the other side of the room. I groaned internally and pushed my way through the crowd of people in her direction. 

"Hiroko," I called out breathlessly."Wait," 

She stopped a few paces away. I braced my hands on my knees, winded from the wild fight to try and reach her. She turned around, eyes shining with something that looks suspiciously like tears. She blinked rapidly, not looking at me.

"Sanbē," She bowed her head and avoided my eyes. "This way, please."

I frowned as I followed her to the changing area. What had happened while I was on stage? 

"Miss Hata? Is something wrong?" 

She shook her head stiffly. Her fingers twitched nervously as she resisted the urge to fix her smudged makeup. "No, everything is fine." She forced a small smile. "This way. You have five minutes to get back on stage."

She stood before a large rack of clothing set up beside a row of curtained-off cubicles. She paused for a moment before selecting a red and white shirt combo from the rows of glittering jackets. She fished around for a few seconds before grabbing a slimming pair of ripped black jeans. 

Hata handed me the two shirts and hooked the pants overtop the curtain rod. I slipped behind the thick curtains without another word. She clearly did not want to talk about whatever had happened. I changed as quickly as possible and left my previous clothes dangling off a hanger inside.

I tapped her shoulder, not wanting to speak and strain my voice further. She jumped at the touch. She pressed her lips together in a thin line. Worry and stress streaked her tired face as she examined the outfit. She moved around me, tucking in pieces and smoothing down others. She nodded once she was finished. She spun on her heels and started off towards another station.

I jogged to keep up with her quick pace. She motioned for me to take the seat next to a mirror stand and desk. She handed me a soft white towel before she turned to her tools. I wiped the sweat from my brow and neck. 

Combs, brushes, pallets, and foundations shuffle about the desk space as she searched for what she wanted.

"Miss Hiroko," I said quietly as she began on fixing my sweaty, matted hair. 

"Hm?" She glanced down at me then back at my hair.

"Would you tell me if something was wrong or bugging you? Even though you've only been my stylist for this concert, I need to protect the people around me. And that includes protecting you, Miss." 

She froze mid-brush. Her mouth popped open to form a little O. She hesitated, then nodded. "I will," her lips barely moved as she spoke the words.

"Thank you," I stood up and took the hat from her before she could position it. I pressed the hat down over my hair, not caring if it messed something up. 

"Am I ready?" I asked, holding out my arms for inspection She bit her lower lip, a habit I was beginning to like. Her eyes scanned me up and down for something she missed. At last, she gave me the good-to-go.  

"Hey," I touched her shoulder, catching her attention. "What's wrong? Something's bothering you, isn't there?"

She thought for a moment. She hesitated before the words started spilling out in a hushed, secretive tone. 

"The others are not kind to someone like me; a mixed-race intern who ended up on the front lines of the staff. I don't want you to have to deal with our politics, but if you really want to know, know that I am just an intern. Easily replaced. I am a nobody who took a spot they think someone else deserves. I- I'm a halfie. I shouldn't even be an intern..." She shook her head. "No, I've said too much. It's fine, really." 

She must have seen my expression as she shrugged and waved it away. "It is nothing I haven't seen before. Don't worry about me." 

She glanced behind me at a clock on the wall. The blood drained from her face. "We need to go." I blinked. I was still thinking over her words. She's been treated like this before? "Now, sanbē!" 

She pushed me down the hallway, cursing quietly in Japanese. I stumbled into a shaky run as we went. We dashed through the underbelly of the concert arena, almost tripping several times on large electrical cords that crisscrossed the floor like spider webs. I was gasping for air by the time we reached the hidden platform. Hiroko looked barely winded. 

"What-?" 

She pressed a finger to her lips to silence my questions. Other stylists and members filed in behind us. She handed me a bottle of water-- from where I had no idea. I drank from it greedily. 

"I can't appear weak in front of the others or I will be treated worse," she whispered as the chatter from the others increased. "Please, don't ask about it again. I can't distract you or I could get fired."

I nodded. She added some final touches to my look before backing away. I finished off the water bottle and crouched low on the platform. I smiled up at her. She watched me with those silent but strangely defiant eyes of hers. I gave her a tiny wave. A faint smile crackled across her lips. She waved back shyly. 

I smirked. She didn't want to be a distraction but she was like a magnet. I had barely known her for two hours but the difference she made was striking. You couldn't help but notice when she walked into a room. I had members eyeing her already. It had been, what, her second day as an intern? Third? All I cared about was who had taken notice in her time here and if I could get there first.

I snuck glances here and there as the stage director started barking directions at the assembled members of BTS. She had her eyes closed. Her head moved to the beat of the music from above. She was smiling. My heart started pounding in my ears. She was so beautiful just standing there, taking it all in. Her hair loose around her shoulder. Her quiet confidence. I felt something changing inside me like a delicate flower starting to bloom. I grinned. There was no going back now.