It Takes Two (Kim Namjoon)

Promised

The song on my phone finished playing, and my ragged breath filled my ears. It sounded awful, and my chest felt like it was about to cave in, but I kept pushing myself forward on the treadmill. An appropriate Bangtan song came on for the situation, and I couldn't help but grimace at the sound of Namjoon's rap as I replayed today's events in my head—

"Jimin, what are we going to do about this," I said rhetorically as I fussed over the photos he posted of sleeping band members.

He gave me a full smile. "But they look so peaceful when they're asleep."

I rolled my eyes at Namjoon's slack mouth and Taehyung's arms tightly encircling him. "There is such a thing as image that I am supposed to protect."

"You weren't around to stop me."

"I can't be around you all the time!" I said, slightly annoyed but secretly glad that Jimin seemed to forget our conversations about my dating life for the time being.

He fluffed my hair and leaned down towards me, bringing our faces closer together. My anger immediately dissipated and was replaced with a self-consciousness that froze me in place. I could feel my face pale. I'd hoped too soon. "Maybe you should make an effort to be with me then, instead of Namjoon hyung."

Before I could respond, he walked away to go join Hoseok and Yoongi who were dancing together. I stood still for a few more seconds before I registered that someone was calling me.

"Yah! You over there, in the red skirt. Are you dumb or something?"

I turned, looking for the voice as I remembered that I had actually put on a scarlet skirt this morning. My eyes finally found the stagehand as he said, "You! Honey thighs, American!"

My face flushed scarlet as I strode over to him as confidently as I could. "Sorry. What do you need?" I asked quickly, my head hanging slightly.

He opened his mouth to answer, but a hand fell on his shoulder and tugged harshly at him, forcing him to face Namjoon. "What did you say to her?" he demanded.

"Oppa," I whispered, hoping to distract him with the term. "Don't." There were already others watching.

"She wasn't paying attention," the stagehand defended himself, slightly abashed now that Namjoon had stepped in on my behalf. "I had to get her attention somehow."

"You didn't have to ridicule and insult her in front of everyone." Namjoon positively towered over the older man, and radiated a sense of displeasure that sent a chill through me even though I wasn't the recipient of it.

"I wasn't trying to, but I need to know the set to do my job and she's too busy making eyes at a boy. I won't suffer for her incompetence or her childish, foreign approach to work." His eyes pinned me down again, emboldened by seeing my conciliatory expression.

I clenched my jaw but swallowed the retort on my tongue. "I understand, and I apologize for zoning out. Korean isn't my first language—"

"Clearly," the stagehand interrupted.

"Her Korean is fine," Namjoon snapped. "Who are you to publicly humiliate her while she's trying to do her best?"

"That's rich, considering you're doing the same right now," I said to Namjoon, causing him to finally look at what he was doing. I stared pointedly at him until he got the hint, looking around the quiet room which was watching our exchange. I took a second to quell the blood rushing through my veins and spoke as soothingly as possible. "I am okay. It was an honest mistake."

He nodded sulkily and let the man go. "Sorry for interrupting your work." Without another word or look at me, he turned and stormed away—

Just then, the doors to the indoor gym opened and Namjoon entered, paralleling my memory perfectly. I ignored him and kept running on my treadmill, and tried to sneakily clean up the sweat pouring off of me as best I could.