Invisible (Namjoonff)

Chapter 8: Mochi

"Are you sick?"

Ki opened her eyes to see her mother staring down at her.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"It's nearly 3 pm. I am already home from work and you are still in bed?"

Ki slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"I think I'm sad."

Her mother sat down on the side of her bed, but remained silent, giving Ki space to decide how much she wanted to share.

"His name was Joon, Omma." Ki didn't know why, but she burst into tears.

Her mother reached out and grabbed her hand. She held it gently, gave it squeeze, and then slapped it.

"Ouch! What was that for? Your precious daughter is crying!"

"I thought he was fake the entire time. And what do you mean 'was'? Is he dead?"

"No, he's just gone. Ended before it even started."

"If he's not dead, then there's hope. Who's his mother, I will give her a phone call."

Ki couldn't help but smile at her mother's determination.

"I don't even know his last name. I'm an idiot. I'll never see him again." Her voiced trailed off, "Like I ever actually saw him anyway."

Her mother patted her on the head.

"If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Now tell me why a man without a last name is worth even one of your tears."

"I think... maybe... because for once in my life, I didn't feel invisible."

Ki's mother gave her a hug.

"You are not invisible.... but you are stinky. Take a shower. I'm going to go pick up a few things I forgot at the market."

Ki watched her mother walk away. She sniffed her armpit. She didn't smell that bad.

After her shower, Ki decided there was no reason for getting dressed, so she opted for some clean pajamas. She reached for her book and then stopped. She reached for the remote instead, and found a K-drama. Everyone was talking about Seo Yeji's performance in It's Ok to Not be Ok. As a professional in television, it was practically her duty to watch tv, she justified.

A short time later her mother came home with a small bag on her arm. She sat down next to her on the couch.

"Aw, you smell like fresh flowers. Good girl." She gave her mother a salty smile.

Then her mother pulled out a box from her bag.

Mochi.

She glanced up at her mother.

"You completed your mission. As you always do. You always accomplish what you set out to do. I am in awe of you everyday. Your reward!"

She placed the mochi in her lap. They spent the rest of the day snuggled on the couch, binge watching, and snacking on mochi.

Namjoon woke up early and headed to the practice room. He was convinced they had filmed Dynamite in every way possible and on every stage possible, but they still found themselves in the studio dancing to it once again. He'd spent a lot of time on self care the past few months, working out, developing hobbies, reading good books. Surrounded by the heaviness of the world, he had found the silver linings and physically he felt good. And there was something magical about dancing in synchronization, a feeling of unity and belonging, of going from empty floor space to an explosion of expression. It was a feeling that couldn't easily be described, it had to be felt. And even after being voted the group's worse dancer, he still loved it. The day was hard, but rewarding. And the constant movement and banter was the distraction he needed. Every time he slowed down his mind wandered. Despite his better judgement, he had added her number to his phone. Contact Name: Park Girl. He had hoped if anyone caught a glimpse of it, they would assume Park was the last name and keep scrolling. The paper she had written on was tucked in his book at home as a bookmark. It felt strange that when he wasn't with her, he was rushing from practice to performance to interview, a world wide celebrity, an idol. She was the precious moments of stillness amidst the chaos. He had reached one of his life long goals, getting a #1 single on the Billboard Hot 100, and he couldn't tell her. It was both disappointing and relieving to know she only saw him as the guys who read books in the park.

As the day rapped up and the boys were tired and sweaty, Jin suggested they eat together before heading to their homes. Namjoon quickly agreed, as the thought of a quiet empty house seemed unbearable. Once the eldest and the leader had agreed, the others quickly followed suit. The evening was relaxed and reminded them of their time they had spend earlier in the year at the lake. In those moments, they were just friends. Not young men expected to change the world. And yet, even surrounded by his closest friends, celebrating one of their greatest achievements, he couldn't help but think, something, no, someone, was missing.