Finest Jin

Big Event Pt.2

The opening acts were phenomenal. Jin held my hand, his beautiful face relaxed and smiling. Minho had saved the day with his nonchalant explanation and now the media hounds were quelled. Hopefully my days of being called names and slapped in change rooms had come to an end. As the category neared, a man came to hand out the tiny clip-on mics to the boys and, a few performances later, he came to lead them backstage. Cher and I scooted closer together. I slid towards her, feeling something stab my hip. It was Jins' mic. 

"Oh, shoot!" I showed Cher the mic and we both stood up, slipping quietly towards the stage. 

"No access." A security guard halted us at the edge of the deck leading behind the screen. 

"We're here with BTS. This is SeokJins' mic." I held it up, seeing the disbelief evident in his gaze. "Go ahead and verify on your radio." 

He did exactly that, turning away from us and talking to his cohort through his bluetooth. While we waited, my attention was drawn to a couple moving out of the shadows from behind the screen leading backstage. A tall, handsome man was speaking in angry tones to a smaller woman. I couldn't see her behind the large speaker, but his face was vaguely familiar. I squinted at him, trying to place where I knew him from. His fury showed, even from this distance and, while his words were lost in the commotion, I could practically see the spittle flying from his gritted teeth. He poked the woman roughly in the chest and she stepped back, flinching from him and exposing her full form to me. 

It was Diva. 

I recognized the long, ivory gown and the style of her hair. For the first time, I felt pity for her. She  shrunk under the verbal attack, her body language revealing fear and intimidation. The man caught her arm and gave her one hard shake. I stepped forward. The security guard put a hand out to halt me. My eyes were peeled to the sight unfolding before me. Diva was replying to him now, her hands staccatoing in a frantic pantomime of irritation. The mans' hand came up and, for one sick moment, I thought he would strike her. 

"Hey!" I waved my hand at the security guard. How was no one seeing this? Diva winced. Her hand came up to shield herself. The man swatted her hand away and made some final point, emphasizing his last word with a hard poke at her chest, then spun on his heel and stomped away. Diva was left, standing alone, her breaths coming fast, her arms hugging herself. 

"Okay," the security guard was back to us, "You can take the mic to SeokJin. They are on the other side. Pass behind the main screen. You..." Here he motioned to Cher, " can return to your seat." Cher harrumphed in disappointment. 

"Sorry, Bear. I will be back soon." She nodded and moved off, back towards our seats. I strode past the security guard, into the sound cloud of backstage. Diva was about a hundred feet still in front of me and, as I approached, she went to walk away. Her ankle twisted and she went down, hard. I ran over, helping her up.

"Are you okay?" She smiled up at me momentarily, before realizing who I was and restructuring her lovely look into an angry grimace.

"Don't touch me!" I could see the red marks on her chest where the man had stabbed his finger. Her arm still held the angry red marks of his grip. I let go, but held my hand out in offering.

"Diva...please. I just want to help you...Are you alright?" Her eyes were shimmering. I recognized the glitter of tears swimming at the edges of her eyelids. She sat a moment, avoiding my gaze. She was debating whether to accept or reject my assistance. "How is your ankle?" I asked, olive branch fully extended. Diva took a long breath...then took my hands. I pulled her up to her feet. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I saw how that man treated you. Is that your boyfriend?" I saw the warning glare in her face and quickly continued. "You don't deserve that. No one does... It's not my business, but I say leave him." Once she was steady on her feet, she straightened her dress and stood tall.