14 April 2016

Seoul, Republic of Korea

Miranda pulls her knees into her chest where she sits against the wall in the empty hallway. Everybody is out watching the performances or getting ready. And she? She's quietly crying there—thankful that nobody can see her. The carpet is somewhat squishy beneath her and the wall is less-than-comfortable, but at least she can be upset in peace.

Part of her wonders if the carpet is so plush that she wouldn't even hear it if someone did come. She shakes off the idea and carefully wipes at her eyes so as not to disrupt her makeup. It's not that she's angry at Jimin for yelling at her, but she's frustrated that he assumed details where facts were not given. She tries to rationalize for a moment—all Jimin saw was his friend upset for a long time. He never knew her side of the story, so naturally, he would search for answers and draw his own conclusions when he couldn't find them.

No, she can't be mad at Jimin. He was just looking out for Namjoon—but heavily misunderstood the situation at hand. Miranda rests her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. It's been almost four years since everything happened and only a few months since she and Namjoon repaired their friendship. Part of her is sad, though. Things will never be the same between them.

"Sunbaenim?"

Her eyes fly open to see a young striking man staring down at her with wide doe-eyes. She swears she's seen him before, but she can't quite place her finger on his name. Regardless, having a young artist catch her crying is super embarrassing. She stumbles to her feet and dabs below her eyes with nonchalance.

After bowing, he tilts his head at her, lifting one hand momentarily before lowering it again. "Um—why were you crying?" His stance is a bit awkward and she's sure that this is uncomfortable for him just as much as it is for her. His hair is the lightest shade of lavender, verging on a sort of grayish-white. She's not surprised. Celebrities always have to do something insane with their hair, especially the men, who are expected to burn their scalps with chemicals at least two or three times a year.

"I wasn't." The lie slips out so easily even though she knows that her eyes must be blood-shot. "I have allergies."

The young man nods slowly, averting his gaze to seemingly process what she had said. With those soft eyes, he looks at her again, the slightest hint of worry taking over his features. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Despite the palpable embarrassment on both sides, there's something undeniably pure and tender about the way he's genuinely concerned about her. He could have walked right past her and not given a single shit. But this boy—this man stopped to check on her. She's slightly blown away by the character in him she's seeing right now. It's not common in her field of work.

Miranda nods, offering him a small smile. He relaxes once he sees this, giving her a smile of his own. She stops to appreciate the way his face lights up from the simple expression.

"What's your name, again?" she asks. She knows she's seen him before.

The young man's smile grows even bigger. She remembers being new to the industry—when a more experienced artist notices you and asks your name, it's one of the best feelings. "Lee Taeyong." She extends both of her hands to shake his. He accepts this gesture happily, a small giggle escaping his lips. "I'm a big fan," he gushes suddenly, pulling his touch back.

Now he just won't look at her at all. He's looking at the ground with a huge smile plastered on his face. His hands are messing with each other like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Do you have a stage soon?" She asks this to try and break through his sudden shyness.

Taeyong's head snaps up, his eyes wild. "The stage! I'm gonna be late—" He cuts himself off, breaking into a run down the hall. "You'll watch us, right?" He yells this,  head turned slightly as he runs. She's nodding, but he adds, "NCT! NCT—don't forget!"

"Do your best! I'll be cheering for you!" she shouts back, laughing a bit to herself as she watches him sprint down the corridor.

Miranda cracks her neck in a few directions before turning the opposite way and walking at a brisk pace. She had enough time to think things over—she can go reconcile her argument with Jimin and watch Taeyong's stage from inside the waiting room. Part of her is anxious—if Jimin's still angry, she's not sure that he'll accept her apology. He can be pretty irrational and scary when mad.

It's not often that she makes any of the boys angry, but she always regrets it when she does. Trying to calm her nerves, she breaks into a jog to reach the room faster. It comes into sight and she approaches the door. With one hand on the knob, she twists it, but the door opens violently on its own. The sheer force knocks her on her ass. Luckily, the carpet is still just as plush now as it was ten or so minutes ago.

Timidly, Jimin peaks around the wood to look down at her. His eyes widen immediately. "Noona!" Throwing dignity to the wind, he kneels down on the carpet with her to pull her into his arms. "I'm so sorry—I don't know why I got so angry." He pulls back momentarily to look at her with promising eyes. "I'll never yell at you again, okay? I promise. What happened between you and Namjoon-hyung is none of my business. I won't butt in, okay?"

Miranda smiles at his rushed apology. She's really blessed with great friends. "Jimin, don't worry. I understand that you were just trying to connect the dots. Being curious isn't a bad thing. I promise I'll tell you everything someday."

Jimin gives one firm nod before hugging her once more. Another figure appears at the door. It's Hoseok, who's leaning on the door frame and smiling down at them. "Wow, you guys made up already. Good—now come inside, the floor is dirty." Hoseok helps Jimin up before doing the same for her.

She enters the dressing room, a bit embarrassed that all the stylists and make-up artists had seen their fight—not to mention the other guys. Namjoon lifts his head where he's standing, having his jacket fitted by Hyojoo. The girl follows his gaze, smiling at Miranda and waving. "You guys are back!"

Namjoon's gaze is somewhat melancholy, but Miranda just smiles back at him before turning her attention to the small TV hanging on the wall. Just in time. The words The 7th Sense — NCT U are scrawled at the bottom of the screen. The camera's just finishing a zoom-out, showing the stage covered in smoke and red lighting. She squints, trying to find Taeyong. Suddenly, the lights flash blue before going back to red as they start their choreography.

"Woah!" Taehyung exclaims from behind her. She's just now realizing that he's watching, too. "Their stage is cool. I never get tired of watching it."

Miranda turns around momentarily to look up at him. "You've seen them before?"

"Once or twice," he says with a shrug. "They debuted, like, last week."

Turning her attention back to the screen, she goes back to her original task of finding the man she met in the hallway. It doesn't take too long, because just then the lights flash to a normal color and one of the members stands front and center, beginning his rap. It's him—Taeyong.

Having found the boy with a sweet smile, Miranda crosses her arms while continuing to watch. "They're talented," she mumbles as Jungkook comes up next to her to see as well.

"They're smooth," the youngest remarks before wiggling an eyebrow at her. "But not as smooth as meee—ow!" He's cut off as she playfully punches him in the stomach, which he exaggerates as always. "Owwie!"

She ignores him, instead noticing the baby-face of the group starting to rap with a certain note of swagger to him. "Alright—okay, little homie coming through..." The stage ends and she finds herself genuinely impressed. Not only was Taeyong completely different from the shy kid she met minutes ago, but the stage itself was great. Versatility is part of being an idol and he definitely has that locked down. These kids have talent, for sure.

"Long ass ride," Jungkook attempts to recite in English. His accent is cute, prompting her to pinch his cheek momentarily before turning away.  

Of all the smiles she's seen, Miranda has never quite experienced one that heals such as that of Lee Taeyong.