Love Yourself: Suga | The Last

Five

It takes a good fifteen minutes before we arrive at what I'm assuming is BTS' dorms. Jin pulls up to a gate and the security guard glances in before waving us through. Jungkook's rant about video games fizzled out a couple minutes ago when he started talking to Suga about what he missed out on when he disappeared so quickly the other day. I spent the rest of the car ride sitting silently with my head pressed against the glass window, staring out at the roads and the tall skyscrapers.

Jin pulls into a car garage and I notice a couple other cars parked in here as well. They're all black with tinted windows, obviously used for transporting the boys to different places.

We get out of the car and I stand awkwardly with my hands in my pockets as the boys start immediately heading inside. Jin and Jungkook are excitedly talking about food and disappear quickly.

Suga notices my hesitation and walks over to me, my backpack still slung over his shoulder. "You okay staying here for the night? I would have suggested taking you home, but I didn't want to take a chance that fans would follow you there. Having them know where you live sucks," he says cautiously.

I nod, staring down at my sneakers. "No, this is fine," I say quietly. I breathe out, "Besides, my mom kicked me out, so I guess I don't really have somewhere to go anyways." The words hurt more than I care to admit and I hope he doesn't notice the slight tremble of my lips. I shake my head a bit so that my black hair falls in front of my face, trying to hide my expression from Suga's careful gaze.

Suga sighs. "That explains it."

I look up, confused. "Explains what?"

"I had JHope and Jimin check your house when we all split up to try and find you. I knew you weren't going to be there, but I had to be sure. They called me when I was still on the road to the bridge and said that all of your stuff was thrown out in a dumpster. I asked them to knock on the door, but no one was home."

I try to process his words. He sounds so concerned, but I can't ignore the slight wave of anger coursing through me.

"You know where I live?" I ask. "How do you know where I live?" We never spoke of things like that. Never.

Suga raises his hands as if surrendering. "Hana, I want you to know it's not like however you are thinking. I just happen to know where you live," he says, trying to sound nonchalant about the entire thing, but I could feel my blood boiling.

"This entire thing was such a scam," I mutter, angry that I feel suddenly so upset about something as trivial as him knowing where my home was. "You knew my actual name, my home, what else? What else did you know without me telling you?" I feel betrayed. "We promised that we wouldn't give up any of our own personal details, Suga. Remember that? Remember saying we wouldn't tell each other who we actually were so that we could go on pretending like some stranger actually cared about one another?"

I can't stop the tears that suddenly start falling down my face. Suga runs a hand through his blonde hair, his gaze looking at different things in the garage. This was what I wanted to avoid when I created a stupid profile on that dreadful website. I wanted to avoid face to face interactions with someone who claimed to care about me. I wanted to go on texting a random person who showed interest in helping, but who I never bothered to actually know in real life. Real life interactions were too hard, too demanding. It was easier to hide behind a cellphone or computer screen instead.

"Hana, it's not hard to figure out who someone is these days," Suga says slowly, like he's trying to piece together his sentence deliberately before delivering it. "You talked about your brother, Ji, and how he wanted to be an idol. You spoke about how he died and where he died. It's not hard to find that type of information online. Especially when he was young, trying to be an idol, and murdered. Literally anyone could find out through a single article that he had a sister named Hana and where they lived."