Namjoon Likes Black Girls • Namjoon Centric •

2

I called the first taxi that came down the street, having to round a big ass black van with tinted windows for every window to get there. Somebody came to kidnap people.

I had learned how to say "Can you take me to the closest hotel" since I didn't go and reserve an Airbnb. I had a lot of money since I've been saving up for my first trip to Korea for years. At least like 5,000 American dolllars. Don't know what that translated to in Korean money but I'm sure I'd find out.

I told my request to the taxi driver and pulled up the map on my phone to watch as myself left the airport. Just so I'd know where I am because I'm bout dumb as hell when it comes to locations.

I arrived in front of a very tall hotel and got out of the taxi. I got my stuff out of the trunk and walked around to the window, where I asked the price of the trip in very simplified English, only receiving a flick of the wrist in response.

"Free!" The taxi driver smiled.

"Forreal?!" I was hella shocked, why would this be free?

"You're pretty so it's free." He nodded. I forgot that older men treated young foreigners like this. It happens in America all the time.

"Thank you sir." I smiled back and stretched out the handle to my suitcase as I wheeled it towards the hotel. The doorman gave me a welcoming smile as I walked past him and into the lobby, to stand behind a two person line of people. This place was crazy fancy, while the outside looked like something out of a New Edition music video.

The person at the very front of the line was having a heated discussion with the woman behind the counter. Something about the amount of rooms being in one room. That's all I could really catch. All I can say is that I stood in that line for at least 20 minutes before it was finally my turn.

"How can I help you?" Her sweet voice greeted in English. I assume since it's so near the airport, a lot of tourists probably stay here.

"How much is a room?" I asked carefully.

"One room? Um, 300,000 won a night." She smiled. I stood there with a slightly confused face, really wishing that I had learn how to translate dollars into won. "Are you American?" I nodded. "It's about $235 a night." She chuckled and I had a duh moment.

"Oh, duh. Do y'all take card?" I asked as I reached to unzip the top of my suitcase. I thought it would be smart to put my important shit where I knew it would be safe and secured because knowing my headass, I'd lose everything on the way here and have no way to get home, so I put everything where I knew I would find it and nuzzled my wallet, passport, and id into the top of my suitcase.

The woman quickly nodded as I let my hand explore the inside of the suitcase, not finding any trace of anything that I packed, don't tell me that I forgot them at home, please no. I know that I didn't though because I needed my passport to get on the plane so I had it then.

At the time a large group of men had walked into the lobby, some loud, some lousing, it was a lot of them that's for sure. And they were all Korean, they're loud passionate conversations made sure of that.

"I-I need to go check my bag, one second." I told the woman as I walked off to a bench beside the elevators and sat down on a bench. I hoisted the suitcase onto my lap and slowly unzipped it, not ready to see that it's not mine.

And low and behold, it's not mine. Instead it's someone who packed a book, a mac book, five hoodies and two pairs of socks. And whoever's suitcase this is will be traveling without a phone charger because both cord and the box are wrapped up in here. They sure did pack light though, certainly not me. And that made me feel like crying.

Damnit Zaina you're still dumb as hell. I zipped the suitcase back up and set it on the floor. Looks like I wasn't going to be sleeping anywhere tonight. I still had my phone on me, but no body's bout to help me in this situation.

I gave my fro a little pull which I usually did in stressful situations as I looked around the lobby. Well what do I do now? Sit here and think about how stupid and irresponsible I am? It's all I can do really.

The group of like 10 men walked towards the elevator which was right beside me, and all I could hear was some wild laughing and shouts of denial as they waited for the elevator.

"Excuse me!" A high voice shouted. I didn't think he was talking to me so I didn't look up. He mumbled something before shouting it again, this time a bit closer to me. I looked up at the slim man, sunglasses on the tip of his upturned nose and a heart smile over his lips. "My um friend really like your hair." He said every word at a different octave which made me crack a smile. He pointed to a blushing dimpled man beside him.

"Oh, thank you." I smiled back. I kinda needed that. Some sort of a distraction.

"Are you okay?" A very pretty man asked beside him. I kept my smile as I nodded. The last thing I needed was other folks getting into my business. Especially folks I didn't know. The elevator finally opened and they all quickly boarded, not giving me another word.

.Namjoon.

We were all sent into our separate hotel rooms since it was getting a bit late. I'm still upset that we're not at the dorms and I'm not warm in my Ryan and brown stuffie covered bed right now. If only one of our staff would have filled up the gas in our van for when he got back from tour. We would be home right now.

I put my suitcase on my bed since I wanted to do some late night internet browsing before bed and I wanted to pick out my outfit for tomorrow so that I could do some shopping once we got back home.

I unzipped the suitcase and immediately out fell a passport and ID card. That's weird, I don't remember packing those there. I picked them up to make sure they were mine and lucky me, they weren't. I have someone else's bag... again.

This what a mess and a half to fix last time. But that means someone has my laptop with all of my current works. Someone has the Balencia hoodie that Jin hyung bought for me while in America. Someone literally has the future of bts in their hands, because some of those songs are songs that I haven't even sent to our producers yet.

I need to find my suitcase. I start looking for clues of who might have i without invading their belongings too much, finding at least 6 bags of hot fries instead. There's a small bottle of shampoo and two jean jackets. There's pants, shirts, socks, very lewd underwear, and a pair of vans. I have to say that I really like this persons fashion.

I finally turned to the wallet, passport, and ID card that were stuffed into the top of the bag. This should tell me who's owner of this luggage, and that person should also have my luggage.

I look over the ID card, and wow is she pretty. I lowered the card and cleared my throat before raising it again. Her name is Zaina Jackson, her nationality is American, her race is African American, and she's 21 years old. Was this the girl from downstairs in the lobby? Her big hair makes me wanna say yes. But I didn't want to believe that a woman so pretty was in my presence. I mean sure, I've been around a lot of pretty women, but her id picture...

But if it is her then I need to check if she has my suitcase.