kicks ✓ || namgi || k.th

032: butterflies

chapter 32: butterflies
location: philadelphia, pennsylvania

When Namjoon woke up, he was not in the van; he was in a hotel room. And a very fancy hotel room at that.

He stretched and looked around. The room was a suite; it reminded him of the days spent traveling with his father. The walls were a dark red, with matching curtains drawn open on the huge window. The sheets were bamboo, he could tell from how they felt on his skin. He could lay back and stare at the canopy above his head for hours if he wanted to.

He realized his suitcase was on the luggage rack, then roused himself from bed and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was great that he was awake and all, but he needed to know where the others were. And when he entered the suite's common area, he saw none of his brothers, but Sara Dinah LaPostale herself, kicked up at the table with a coffee reading a magazine. She was still wearing the same blue dress and black Converse Highs.

"Good morning," he made his presence known.

"Good morning." Sara put her coffee down. "I was expecting you. The others are fine, by the way. We have four or five suites in this hotel. Minty is in the other room." She gestured. "He's your favorite, isn't he?"

Namjoon felt his face flush. "What - I guess."

"Mmm, I don't judge. I rolled with those crowds once upon a time." Sara took another drag of coffee. "You have questions."

"I have lots of questions."

"You're the one from Baepsae. Kim Youngsik, that was his name, you must be his grandson."

"Are you really dead?" Namjoon asked. "Because that's a lot of old information to know."

"Okay, I'll spill some. You're right in that I'm a LaPostale. But I have no clue why the Internet has me listed as dead. I learned about the Mikrokosmos Project from my father. I'm surprised you don't know about it. It's certainly not public information, but all of the higher ups at LaPostale had to sign non-disclosure agreements about it so that if we got questioned, we would know what not to say. Clearly your father trusts you with so much confidential company information."

"But if your father is Hubert LaPostale, that would make you...fifty something years old? Roughly?"

Sara giggled. "Do I look like a fifty year old? Anyway, why do you boys keep following me around? You have your answers, you have your magic purple van, and in theory you know how to fix it if you need to again. Why do you all have the gringles over me?"

Namjoon had no clue what gringles were. "You were saying so yourself, last night. Something about your destiny being intertwined with ours."

Sara put the coffee mug down. "I would rather not be intertwined with anything at all," she murmured.

"Well, it's kind of late for that. Taehyung's taken a liking to you, and the rest of the boys have taken a liking to the van. I mean, we pushed the button three or four times in a row just so Taehyung could find you --"

"That's what that was?" Sara asked, so in shock she knocked her empty coffee mug over. "You just kept pushing it until --" Then, she broke face, her voice cracked, and she looked away. Namjoon could tell Sara was fighting back tears with everything she had.

"I'm not the one to have a meltdown on," he said. "You've got some beef with my family or something. But I'm sure Taehyung will want to talk to you about this. You're more welcome here than you think, Sara. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, or really your story, but you're welcome here."

"I guess." Sara walked away before she could cry. "I'm gonna go check on V. I'm obviously not from Rochester, but I legitimately know this area. There's a place I want to take you guys later. Maybe if V can convince me, then I'll tell you about myself there."