DREAM, MOONCHILD, SOULMATE || BTS

3: FAME, CHAOS, HOME

Following Namjoon to their place in Hannam felt surreal. It wasn't far from the office building in Gangnam—just a quick 10-minute drive—but the weight of the situation made it feel like we were crossing into another world. This wasn't just a casual trip home; I was following him to a life I never expected to be part of.

We stopped for takeout on the way because neither of us had eaten all day. The normalcy of grabbing food was overshadowed by the fact that I was sitting beside Kim Namjoon, the biggest superstar in the world, hiding behind a mask and bucket hat. Every move felt like it was being scrutinized, and I was acutely aware that I couldn't afford to be seen with him—not yet, not before my debut. The pressure was immense.

As we pulled up to my hostel, Namjoon insisted on helping me carry my bags. It seemed like a simple gesture, but when he stepped out of the car, the world around us seemed to shift. The street was quiet at first, but I saw it happen in real time—people's heads turning, their eyes widening in recognition. Despite his attempts to remain low-key, covered from head to toe, his presence was unmistakable.

I could feel the shift in the air, a palpable tension building as the whispers started. It was like a ripple effect—someone recognized him, then another, and soon enough, the energy in the street became electrified. Fans were freaking out, some subtly, others less so. Their eyes lit up, phones discreetly—or not so discreetly—raised to capture a glimpse of him.

Namjoon, ever calm, moved quickly, keeping his head down as he grabbed my things and loaded them into the car. But I could see it—the way his body tensed, the quiet urgency in his movements. It was the kind of moment that reminded me how different his life was, how carefully orchestrated everything had to be, even something as simple as helping a friend move.

The crowd started to thicken, curiosity and excitement blending into a storm that was growing too fast. My heart raced, a mix of panic and disbelief. Here I was, standing in the middle of it all, hidden in plain sight, and suddenly very aware that my life was about to change forever.

As we drove away, the noise of the crowd faded, but the reality of the moment hung heavy in the air. Being with Namjoon wasn't just a privilege—it was a responsibility, a constant tightrope walk between fame and normalcy. And now, I was on that tightrope too, whether I was ready for it or not.

We pulled up to the apartment complex around 11 pm, and the place was dead quiet—everyone was already knocked out, except for Jungkook, of course. Leave it to him to be the night owl. 

The rest of the guys had no idea I was even coming, thanks to some last-minute planning, so there wasn't exactly a warm welcome party. In fact, there wasn't even a plan for where I'd sleep.

Cue Namjoon and his *leader mode* switch flipping on.

He and Jungkook started having this back-and-forth about where I should sleep, with Namjoon arguing that Jungkook should take the couch for the night until they figure something out tomorrow.

Me? I was totally fine with the couch. Actually, I insisted on it. But Namjoon gave me that "I'm the leader and I know best" look and went full dad mode: "You've had a long day, you need your beauty sleep, you'll be exhausted tomorrow."

I mean, how do you even argue with that? Spoiler: you don't. Namjoon has this magical way of always winning arguments, and I guess this was just Round 1.

That's when Jungkook jumped in, ever the gentleman.

"Noona... I think you should take my room for the night," he said, his eyes wide with concern.