War of Hormone // Jimin x Reader Story

Chaper 21 // Cross Country Star

You know what you're going to do.

You know that the last BTS show is tonight, and then they will fly away from the United States once again, leaving you in misery for the second time. But you don't intend on giving up that easily.

Something had switched in your head the day that your phone deleted all its data. You knew what you wanted. And you wanted Jimin.

Since you had no other way to contact him, you and Sarah had crafted a "perfect" plan in order to reach out to him.
Step one: you wait until after the show is over, stationing yourself by the cars that they will use to get to the airport. The end. Since this plan was created in such a short amount of time, both you and Sarah were being very optimistic, hoping that you wouldn't need to overcomplicate anything. Hopefully, luck was on your side tonight.

And that is why you find yourself standing around the back of the Staples Center at 10 at night, listening to the muffled bass-boosted music coming from the venue. Your short dress rides up your thighs, resulting in a wave of goosebumps shooting all over your skin. You had wanted to impress Jimin with what you wore, but you hadn't thought about how the breeze would pick up the later it got.

You quickly pull the tight fabric back down your leg so it returned to its home place on your mid-thigh. Sarah had actually picked out the dress: it was one of those glittering skin-tight dresses that you see models wearing on Instagram- she had bought it online awhile ago but didn't have the curves to pull it off. It hugged your sides just right, accentuating your waist and chest. You adorned a pair of stilettos as well, which you were regretting every second you were standing outside.

Suddenly, the screams coming from inside the stadium started ceasing, as if it was a burning fire, crackling and about to extinguish. The chatter of the crowd filtering out of the Staples Center made you realize something.

It was go time.

Your heart fills with hope, your determination invigorated by the idea of the boys coming to where you were. You are basically quivering with anticipation as the moment neared. You hear movement coming towards you, and a smile forms on your face.

Here it comes. Jimin, I'm sorry for ever letting you go. Please forgive me.

Your smile is slapped off your face by the image of hundreds of teenage girls flooding towards you, apparently having the same idea of seeing the boys after the show. They surrounded you, screaming at the tinted-windowed cars that were parked nearby.

You begin to panic, realizing the huge flaw in your plan. You get pushed from side to side, unsteadily wobbling in your heels, as none of the girls around you cared if you broke an ankle. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to find an exit to the swarm and begin working your way to a place where you see some open space.

Suddenly, the screams intensify, causing you to cover your ears in anguish.

What the hell?

Then you realize that the boys must have come out. You whip around, and dive back into the mob. But it's too late. All of the people in front of you are ferociously clawing at each other, attempting to get a fraction of an inch closer to the members.

Deflated, you begin to meander away and then you realize that you need to act fast.

They must be going to the airport, right? You use your amazing skills of deductive reasoning to come up with a reasonable backup plan. Since they're popular and rich, they most likely have a private airstrip rented out so they won't be bothered. So I just need to Uber to LAX and find which one that is.