BTS | Jimin (Park Jimin)

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A/N: I haven't proofread this so please excuse any mistakes (and tell me if you find any). Sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy!

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“I don’t get why we have to do this.”

Namjoon looked disapprovingly at Jimin. "We're trying to form new ties with _______ (insert your country here), which will be good for our economy in the long run."

"Okay fine," Jimin nodded. "But I don't see why we," he gestured emphatically, "have to perform. I mean surely someone like Park Aeri sunbaenim or even Himchan sunbae would be more appropriate."

"K-Pop is one of Korea's biggest exports. And it's modern songs, not traditional ones, that sell the most overseas. Our performing the Satoori Rap shows them a part of who we are as a people too."

"I heard they're doing a dialect performance too," Jin added, grinning. "This'll be great - they won't understand what we're saying, we won't understand what they're saying... it'll be just brilliant."

"Awkward is what it will be," Jimin corrected him. "Our audience is going to be a bunch of stuffy old diplomats who probably don't even like rap."-

"You're completely missing the point here, man," Namjoon grunted in frustration. "We-"

"Hyung, it's your turn!" Jungkook called the leader to get his makeup done. They were slightly short on staff that day because BigHit was holding a major concert elsewhere and only a few stylists could be spared for this event. Namjoon was the last to be made up, and then it would be show time.

***

You were sitting in a corner of the bustling conference room, bored out of your mind. Your father had insisted you come, thinking everyone else was bringing their families but apparently he was the only one who didn't get the memo that this was to be an officials only event. Consequently, you were the only one there under the age of thirty five.

Thanks a lot, dad. I could be sitting at home watching Bangtan's new show but nooooo, you just had to drag me here. I know I said I like all things Korean, but stuffy old diplomats are definitely an exception.

There were going to be several music performances that night, but since their performers were traditional singers from before her time, you were certain the Korean performers would be much the same. You stood up and wandered around for a bit, there not being any chairs around - you were supposed to walk around and mingle - and finally just stood next to a tiny table that held a small bowl of chips. Not seeing anything better to do, you took up post at the table, slowly emptying the bowl one chip at a time.

Once you were done, you looked up only to see your father’s secretary ambling towards you. To stay or not to stay… Being the semi-socially-awkward (or maybe just antisocial) person you were, you kind of grimaced in her direction before walking away in the direction of the toilet.

***

“Jimin-ah! Hurry up, it’s almost time.”

“One second, I really need the toilet!”

***

Phew, that was a close call.

You sat down on the plush seat in the corridor leading to the toilets, slipping off your high heels and rubbing your feet together to ease the aching. Checking your wristwatch, you suppressed a groan as you saw that you had three more hours of awkwardly avoiding people to go.

Maybe I’ll head back in when the performances start. People won’t be so eager to talk then.

You kept an ear out for any signs of music playing while letting your eyes wander over the intricate designs in the wood paneling the corridor. Being an art major who was interested in architecture, you stood up to inspect the wood more closely but before you could take more than two steps, a figure ran past, almost knocking into you before disappearing into the men’s toilet.