Reflections Of You {A BTS/RM Fanfiction}

Chapter 2 - Namjoon

Namjoon/ RM

I try to control my breathing as we make our way through all the Army's who have gathered and filled the airport.
Hundreds are waiting, most wearing our merch and holding up signs in hopes of getting them noticed.
I think back to the days no one recognised us in the street and miss getting to talk to our fans in small groups, but those days were long gone.

Half covering my face with a white mask and lowering my Cap to cover my eyes, we all make our way through the crowd as quickly as possible between the barriers of security guards.

Girls ,mostly between 12 and 16, surge forward as soon as they catch sight of us and I try not to clench up. It had been years since our first mob of supporters started greeting us when we travelled, but I still wasn't used to it. I was starting to worry I never would be.

We all generically wave but try not to catch anyone's eye or reply to the screams that fill the air.
The mix of genuine love, appreciation and hunger to be noticed always made groups bigger than 50 hard to calm down and keep safe.
I knew the boys wanted nothing more than to thank every single person who came to see us off but we knew the longer we stayed around, the higher the risk of an accident happening because of us. I hated to think of how other travellers were effected by this.

Keeping my eyes to the ground I follow the path made by the team. From the corner of my eye I see Jimin slowly getting crushed by excited fans and I slyly pull on his arm so we don't loose him. The crowd who see this all let out a sigh, and too late I realise how many phones are recording us right now.
I smile sadly under my mask, wondering how long it'll take an army to edit that footage into a 'MinJoon' edit.

We get to the check in without a hitch and all loosen up, taking off our protective gear.

Once we're in our seats we start to relax, knowing we can nap for a few hours at least. Jungkook elbows me from the side and it takes me a few seconds to realise a few passengers have recognised us.

We lower ourselves in our seats since we won't be able to talk to them until we're in the air, if at all.

I buckle myself in and look past everyone, out of the plane window, and silently pray for the journey as I always do.

Just as I'm about to edit my 'heavy rotations' playlist I get a tap on the shoulder and handed a sheet of paper and pen.

Looking over the paper it read 'ideas and questions for the UK radio competition' then remember how we were told to discuss this in our spare time. I wonder how many competition winners there'll be and how they'll get chosen, hoping the group can get involved.

I think about it for a while and smile as I write down something I've wanted to know from our fans for a while. I pass the sheet to kookie and see him read what I've written and smirk.

Of course he would, that punk.