Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A/N: I wrote this story intending for BTS to be ACTORS, mostly faces to the names...So I've changed a lot of things like the countries some of them were from/likes and dislikes/parents/history etc. Everything is completely fiction.

Prologue

Blood. 

Crimson red liquid with a gloss of deep gold.

The red liquid of life trickled down her skin, creating maroon lines that travelled across her body. The smell of rust saturated the air in thick heady fumes and the scent triggered a wave of nausea through her system. Her body attempted to lurch upwards in a dry retch. But still, she remained frozen on the ground—trapped in place. 

The sound of her blood dripping onto the marbled tiles seemed to thunder in her ears. It echoed. Loud and deafening with each heavy splatter. It was a reminder. A reminder that blood was the life-force of all human beings. The fuel to her system. It was something she could not live without. 

And she was losing lots of it. 

Lots and lots of it. 

Her vision went hazy. The lights above her were pulsating and engulfing her blurring vision. Was she dying? She didn’t know. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. Feel the warmth steadily leaving her body. Feel the cold, deep emptiness that ached in her chest like a gaping wound. Feel the gut-wrenching sadness that tinged in her throat. 

It hurts, she wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream—wanted to hold herself and sob on the floor. She needed an outlet—needed a method to escape the pain. She needed relief; she needed peace; she needed tranquillity.

She needed warmth, but she could do nothing in her current immobilisation. 

All she could do was feel the coldness...and accept it.

Then...she felt it. 

The soft pads of fingertips brushing against her arm. 

Those fingers moved in an erotic manner. Twisting and turning in a path that alighted a swirling trail of heat beneath her skin. It sent shivers of pleasure that travelled up her spine, forcing goose bumps to surface over her body and sparking an inner heat within her. 

The fingers dragged over the trails of wet blood, gliding up her arms and over the tips of her breast. Her breath hitched as those fingers ghosted over the centre of her chest, finally resting in the valley between her breasts. She quivered. Her entire being filled with a deep, dark desire that forced a gasp from her throat. A soft groaned exhale that managed to escape her petrified body. 

Then his lips captured hers. 

They were like honey, silky and syrupy in their wet opened-mouth heat. They were like the sun, warm and radiant—teeming with hundreds and thousands of emotions that she could not pinpoint. His kiss completed her, forcing bubbles of happiness to pop and froth within her. They sparked and danced in her chest like the fireworks in the night sky.

The gap within her was steadily filled as gold pooled in the crevice within her chest. 

And lilacs bloomed from the blood that streamed from her body.

Chapter 1

Amber

He tasted like smoke. 

Like ash and dust mixed into one; the scent of cigarettes and whisky thick on his tongue. Some girls might enjoy the mix—enjoy the taste of dark alleys and shitty pubs. The taste of bad boys and older men. The taste of salt and adulthood. Or more accurately, the taste of sweat, stale breath and bitter tobacco.

But not Amber, never Amber. 

And she was starting to regret even considering this arrangement. 

He kissed her then. His rubbery lips pressing hard against hers, messy and uncoordinated in its caress. His lips were dry and cracked with peeling, flaking skin that dug into her sensitive flesh. His tongue was slimy as they flopped about over the seams of her lips—his attempt to ramp up the action. 

He was pushing it, the guy she had randomly picked from the club in her haste for relief. In the darkness of the club, awash in bouncing strobe lights and surrounded by pounding music, he had been a different man. Dressed impeccably in suit pants and a deep navy turtleneck, he had been out of place in the mass of leather jackets, metal chains and tattoos. 

A beacon of normalcy in the sea of rebellion. 

She wanted him precisely because he seemed like a sweet gentleman with a smile that spread to his eyes. And he wasn’t obnoxious when she had spoken to him, keeping up with the polite demeanour instead of manspreading and leering at her body. 

He had seemed like everything she needed.

But now she wasn’t as sure when he steadily revealed his true nature in the privacy of the hotel room. His fingers were clumsy as they travelled up her skin and over the edges of her bra, frantic as he tried to tug at the zip of her dress. It was clear that he was trying to speed things up just to get into her pants as quickly as possible. And the arousal that once thrummed within her body had vanished minutes ago from his crappy foreplay. 

“You want my big, fat cock, don’t you?” He breathed heavily, aggressively running his fingers over her sides as if that would stimulate her further. It might if he were gentle about it—if he let his fingertips dance over her skin the way the boys in her dreams did. But, he practically raked her with his fingernails, drawing red lines that just made her want to kick him out of her face. 

Did she want his cock in her? She furrowed her brows, wincing a little. Not really. Now that she had tasted him and experienced first-hand the distinct lack of chemistry between them, she was as dry as the Sahara Desert. 

It might be her fault for jumping into it at the club. Her fault for not being careful in her selection. Her fault for being so desperate that she had visited the club in hopes of losing her virginity. She’d only wanted something, anything, to quell her need for the people in her dreams. Something that would make her stop fantasising about the men she could not have. Something that could distract her enough to give her future soulmate a chance. 

He stuck out his tongue, forcing the slimy, disgusting appendage into her mouth. It was revolting, a sudden attack that drew a strangled gasp from her lips that he seemed to take as acceptance and pleasure. The guy ground his groin into hers awkwardly. A forceful jerk of his hips that gave her no pleasure but only greater annoyance.

She snapped. 

“Enough.” She stepped back and away from him, rubbing at her mouth and gagging a little. She wasn’t against kissing with tongue, but she had her standards. The guy started, wide-eyed as he openly gawked at her. 

“But, you said you wanted—”

“I changed my mind.” 

She didn’t want to swallow with the taste of his saliva in her mouth. It was nauseating to her in its bitter tang and bad aftertaste. She dry retched again, covering the action from him to be polite. God. Did he eat some sort of dish with onions and garlic before this? She made a mental promise to brush her teeth the minute he left. 

If he would leave. 

“I’m sorry. Please go.” She sighed, propping her hand up against the wooden dresser. She watched as his face reddened and he spluttered. His expression was transforming into a pinched look that mirrored the appearance he would have if he had just eaten a lemon. His eyes were bulging in his anger, his veins popping over his neck. He stepped forward and she stiffened, noting the mad glint in his eye. 

“You—“

“If I don’t text my friend back in fifteen minutes, she will call the police to this room.” Amber warned, tapping her fingers on the wood impatiently. She ran her fingers through her hair, letting a sigh escape her lips. 

She shouldn’t have done this. She shouldn’t have even considered it. She met his eye, pursing her lips together as she tried to connect with him, beseeching him to leave her alone. “Look, we don’t have any chemistry.” That was one nice way to put it. “I apologise for leading you on.” 

She watched as he gritted his teeth, muscles dancing at the sides of his jaw, his hands clenching into tight fists. Damn it. She braced herself, her breath catching in her throat as she got ready for his attack. She did not wish for her evening to end like this, but she was prepared for it. 

To her surprise, he turned on his heels, ripped open the door and slammed it in her face before she could even blink. She was left alone in the room and she relaxed, slumping into the bed as the tension left her body. Thank God he didn’t try to make this difficult. Sure she knew a few decent moves that could take down a man two times her size, but she didn’t want to have to resort to using them. 

The emptiness resulted in a ringing silence that buzzed softly in her ears, growing louder by the minute. It made her feel restless and on the edge, the sound driving up against her frantic nerves and making her even more aware of her loneliness. It was a white noise that irritated her and made her heart pound in her chest.

She picked up the remote control from the coffee table. 

The cheap plastic was rough in her hands, the rubber buttons were crumbly and sticky at the edges. She flipped it around in her palm, pressing at a few buttons to test the receptivity. The rubber squares were slightly broken from years of abuse and the little buggers refused to react when she waved the stick at the television. She cursed, pressing her lips together as her brows furrowed. 

Damn it.

The memory of her shitty one night stand sent another wave of annoyance through her heart. She slammed her index finger hard onto one of the buttons, effectively squishing it down so deep that it stayed stuck within the crevices of the plastic. 

The television flickered on revealing the newscaster. 

"On breaking news today, scientists have discovered rising numbers of soulmates experiencing the Gen Z Soulmate Phenomenon."

Thank God that did the trick. 

The white noise was replaced by the monotonous voice of the man on the screen and Amber trudged into the bathroom. She tore open one of the free toiletry packets and brushed  her teeth to get the taste of her bad date out of her mouth. She scowled in frustration, her eyes combing over her reflection.

In the misted, chipped mirror, she saw herself.  

"Unlike your usual one-time soul bonds such as the timer mark, red string of fate or colour flood—”

She was a girl with a short pixie haircut—a necessary styling decision after accidentally getting epoxy resin in her hair. A girl with the tips of her ears naturally turned upwards like that of an elf—a feature she hated more than ever. 

A girl with an upper lip that was slightly larger than the bottom one; a flat button for a nose; red puffy apples for cheeks; and ten times too many creases above her eyes than the average person. 

“—the Gen Z soulmates are people who will experience more types of soul bonds than usual, with numbers ranging from two to four.”

Today, she was smoking hot. 

Her face was painted with makeup that accentuated the plump, puff of her lips and the deep cut of her high cheekbones. Her body was wrapped in a deep-plunge black number that made her ass and tits look a million times bigger than they actually were. 

It was a look that she had spent two hours on. 

Two hours. Two damn hours that Amber could have instead used on typing out another trashy smut on her computer. Two hours she could have spent watching yet another sappy drama, with a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of chocolate chip cookies by her side. Yet here she was, in a crappy hotel by herself with the memory of a bad date fresh in her mind. 

“For example, a timer marked soulmate could find themselves with an additional compass mark the next day”

She sighed again, violently scrubbing away at the makeup with the cake of soap provided by the hotel. A cake of soap that she was sure would dry out her skin and give her pimples the next day. But at this point, she couldn’t care less. 

She just wanted to look like herself again. 

"People experiencing the Gen Z soul bonds are reminded to stay alert, be cautious and seek help if in sudden unknown situations."

The showerhead was rusting and old; metallic paint peeling from the handles of the cheap plastic. But the hot water felt good on the knots in her back and she didn’t care if the metal bits got in her hair. She scrubbed her skin red and raw until all she could smell was the scent of floral bar soap, and the memory of him was a nightmare that she could scarcely remember. 

She stepped out of the bathroom with a thick fluffy robe draped over her naked body, towelling her hair as she walked to the bed. 

The newscaster was familiar. 

For the past five years, the channel featured the same moody, bespectacled dude with an uncanny resemblance to her uncle. As usual, his eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep, lips downturned into an expression that screamed 'I hate my job but I'm here for the damn pay.'

"Furthermore, on the topic of soul bonds, an alarming study by the University of Redwood revealed that a rising number of men are reportedly being paired off with girls in a reverse harem soul bond relationship.”

Amber blinked, raising her brows and finally paying attention to the newscaster. Reverse harem. She chewed on her lips at the thought, a grin spreading across her cheeks. One girl with multiple soulmates. How interesting. The newscaster nodded as if he could see Amber’s reaction through the screen. 

"That's right, one female with multiple males. Scientists speculate this to be due to the historical female genocides which led to the imbalance of natural genetic exchange."

Amber stifled a laugh from bubbling out of her throat as she sank into the bed. Looks like humanity screwed up by continuously favouring the male gender in the past. She snorted, tilting her head as she thought of her grandmother. 

A horrid old woman who did not acknowledge Amber’s existence simply because of her gender. An old lady with a traditional mentality that sons should be favoured as they could carry the family bloodline and daughters were a waste of space and money. Her mother had spent her childhood eating scraps and leftovers, food that was given to the pigs on their farm, while her uncles feasted on chicken drumsticks and huge bowls of fluffy white rice. 

A partiality that led to Amber’s bitter hatred for her grandmother. 

"There has yet to be a confirmation but men that have close relationships with one another, such as brothers or best friends, have a higher chance of obtaining the same female soulmate as it promises greater liveability."

Well, on the bright side, at least they were all friends or siblings. Her phone rang, beeps of flat mechanical sounds that notified her of an incoming call. It was a stupid ringtone that could appear strangely impersonal in its neutrality, but Amber liked it because strangers would never give her weird stares for using a default tune. 

" Additionally, females under the reverse harem soulmate bond are giving birth to more than one child at a time. Twins are a common occurrence."

She picked up her phone, sliding her fingers over the cracked screen. The old thing had been with her since 2016. While it was battered and bruised, having survived the apocalypse called A-Clumsy-Teenager, Amber was a little too attached to replace it. That and her wallet was simply too starved to be capable of vomiting out enough cash. 

Her best friend’s name flashed on the screen. 

Miri Castellaw

"Characteristics of a reverse harem soulmate bond include having more soul bonds than usual, similar to the Gen Z Soulmate Phenomenon.” 

She answered the call. 

"Ambrosia Momo Pei!” Her best friend squealed through the phone and Amber had to pull it away from her ear with a wince at the scratchy pitch. “How did it go? Do I need to call the police? Are you in trouble?” She hummed in thought. “Let me guess, he came in three seconds flat?”

“Did you have to use my full name?” Amber sighed, rubbing her temples and shivering inwardly with disgust. “You know I hate it.” 

Translation: Ambrosia Peach Pei.

It was a nod towards the peach of immortality in Chinese mythology, the food of the Gods. Honestly? If one believed in the notion that the name of a person controlled their fate, her parents just wanted her to get eaten. 

Amber pulled a face at the thought. 

They wanted her to be devoured and feasted on by the elite. Or perhaps, if you spoke Chinese and understood the kinky meaning behind 'getting eaten', they wanted her to be lusted after and ravished by the Gods. 

Amber was simply the product of another couple’s attempt to name their child something unique instead of the usual, common names that would escape the countless teasing from her peers at school. 

“To date, there have been thousands of cases worldwide. The most famous case being the Mattner brothers, three famous Hollywood actors who have recently married their 26-year-old Vietnamese soulmate."

She was momentarily distracted from the call by the newscaster. Her eyes flickering up to listen to him and then back to the screen of her phone. Multi-tasking was in her blood after all.  

“I like your name, it’s cute.” Miri said.

Her voice was sweet, airy, light and pretty to Amber’s ears. It was the kind of voice you would expect to hear from a shy little girl who dressed in pink and pastel and enjoyed cute adorable things. But stereotypes were always a little too far off from reality and her best friend was nothing like that.

Her BFF, with her rusty red hair and indigo eyes—features from her Scottish father—was a long-legged gamine that had a fashion style which emulated a teenage boy’s. 

“You’re supposed to say that as my best friend.” Amber said in a deadpan voice. Miri simply gave her a soft snort of laughter as her reply. 

This was their eighth year as best friends. 

They had been stuck at the hip since their preteens, classmates that later became sisters in everything but blood. They were so close that their family and friends even considered the odds of them being soulmates. 

Soulmates:  People who share a single soul. 

Soulmates were people who were 100% genetically, physically and mentally compatible with one another. As halves of an uncompleted single soul, they were made for one another as destined, fated lovers. 

And Amber had yet to meet hers. 

“So how did it go?” Her best friend repeated the question, a flicker of impatience in her tone. Amber knew her well enough to not drag things out and she sat up, clearing her throat to cut to the chase. 

“Nothing happened,” Amber replied with a half-hearted shrug. “You saw me picking him up at the club, we left in a taxi, got to a hotel. He started to kiss me. I hated it and kicked him out. End of story.” 

The strangled gasp of surprise was an expected reaction from her best friend because this was not her first attempt at a one night stand. In fact, he had been her tenth failed date that week. One would think that she would have taken anyone with a dick at that point considering her desperation for something to satisfy her needs. 

“I thought you liked him!”

“I did.” Amber sighed. She really did. She had hoped he would finally be the one to kick her out of her stupid fantasies. 

“Then what changed?” 

Amber made a face at the memory. “Bad breath.” 

She turned off the TV, getting out of the bed to stand at the window. The view from the hotel room was pretty, the nightlife created a myriad of blinking colours that appealed to her eyes. On a better day she would have been delighted by the sight, perhaps inspired by the colours to create her next masterpiece. 

But not today. 

“I could have let that slide, but he was a crappy kisser too and he just didn’t know a thing about foreplay.” Amber exhaled, rubbing her hair in hopes that it would dry quickly so that she could go to sleep. The damn hairdryer was not working and she wasn’t in the mood to call the front desk to complain about it. “All he wanted was to get into my damn panties.” 

“Fuck.” Miri exhaled, sounding sympathetic. “That sucks. He seemed okay.” 

“I know, I’m so damn disappointed.” She paced about in the room, knotting her fingers in her robe. “I just wanted to get rid of all those damned wet dreams of BTS. Is it really that hard to find just one decent guy?” She ran a hand through her hair, biting her nails. 

BTS. 

Possibly the biggest boy band to date and the greatest muses of her life. As an artist, inspiration was the key to her greater creative output. It just so happened that the seven members of a K-pop group were the sources of her motivation. 

It began as a simple affair. 

She started as a fan of their music. Her mind fluttered to all those nights struggling under the weight of stress and her chest swelled at the thought. She had calmed herself down to the tunes of their songs, laughed to their fan videos after spending hours weeping, and slept to the sound of their voices. Their music had always been her remedy for stress, anger, sadness and depression amongst other things. 

She didn’t believe in pining after idols.

Amber believed that the videos bleached away their personalities. Like a stretch of correction tape over a hastily scrawled 'oh shit' on the exam paper. What the fans saw were pretty pink versions of their idols, not the truth. She told herself that there would be more to their pretty faces, definitely darker secrets and maybe each one had  a twisted hidden personality that she would never learn to love.

Idols were only famous for their music and their well-tailored, company created image. 

There was no way in hell she would yearn for any of them like the little teenage girls with fake dreams of a perfect idol soulmate—one that had a pretty personality and heaps of money for them to spend.

She laughed at those girls, she openly chastised those girls. 

Then the dreams started. 

“It’s funny how a virgin like you would have such high standards.” Miri giggled, her voice crackling through the receiver from a bad connection. “You’ve met so many guys, the business student should have been a good one. Deok-Su knows him personally, and he’s sweet, experienced and gentle.”

Amber smirked at her words. 

Deok-Su was Miri’s soulmate and fiancée. The two had met earlier than the majority of the soulmate population. For most people, one’s soul bond manifested on their 20th birthday, but for Miri, it had occurred on her 16th birthday. 

Soul bonds:  The connection between two soulmates that will lead them to one another. 

The soul bond was what brought soulmates together. It was how soulmates met and how they knew that they were meant for one another. It differed from soulmate to soulmate and it could be a mark, a transference or a change.

Miri had the flicker bond.

Flicker Bond:  In which a soulmate will teleport into the arms of their other half at unpredictable times. 

Deok-Su was four years older than her. He lived in South Korea and was a genius music producer who worked for big-name companies under the name RibidK. Miri appearing on his lap—dressed in her most tattered pyjamas with her nipples poking through the worn-out fabric—right in front of some of the world's richest music CEOs had not been fun.

Amber grimaced at the thought. 

According to Miri, it had been a morning of repeated screaming and self-defence on her part. The poor Deok-Su had frantically tried to explain to her that he had not kidnapped her nor was he interested in raping her. 

That week had been absolute hell.

She didn’t know how Deok-Su had managed it but eventually, her best friend’s tearful homesick sobs through the phone had later turned into shy girly giggles and dreamy looks of love. 

It was probably because Deok-Su was the kindest person she knew. 

The things he'd done for Miri were endless but the one that struck Amber the most was how he had studied English until four AM each day just to make Miri's life better. Miri had done the same for him too and, to encourage her, Amber had taken it upon herself to study Korean with her.

“The business guy Deok-Su introduced is sweet, but he’s just so…Vanilla.” Amber replied with a shrug. He was nice and knew how to worship her body. But when it got to the point where it was time for her to lose her virginity, she had clamped up and gone bone dry again. “I don’t know. He just didn’t turn me on.”

“I hear you. The guys I’ve met before Deok-Su can’t hold a candle to him.” Miri’s voice softened at the mention of her soulmate. “But those dreams must be crazy good if you already have such high standards even before meeting your soulmate.”

“They are,” Amber whispered, her voice hoarse as she collapsed onto the bed. “They are.” 

They were tame at first. Simple things like hand-holding and friendly hugs. Innocent things like sweet little cheek kisses and bright cheery smiles. Then as the days past and her birthday grew close. The dreams…Changed. 

Her mouth went dry at the thought as she held herself, her fingernails digging into her skin. Her dreams might as well have been borne from the deepest parts of fiery hell. 

They were pure sin. Dreams that featured thick veiny cocks dripping with precum and dark, lustful eyes. Dreams that featured metal chains on her wrists and dozens of sex toys. Dreams with threesomes and foursomes, and gang bangs even. The members’ faces were alternating in each immoral fantasy. 

She had woken to a deep ache between her legs that burned in her lower belly with her need. Her cream dripping from the apex of her thighs and soaking her sheets in her arousal. 

It was a mental problem, one that probably required a psychiatrist to fix, and many, many counselling sessions. A problem that she was hoping to fix with a one night stand. And clearly, that wasn’t working.  

“It’s not right. My brain should not be doing this,” Amber said softly. “I shouldn’t be thinking of those things!” 

“Stop beating yourself over it.” Miri soothed. “It might just be your hormones working into overdrive in preparation for your birthday. I was horny as fuck before I met my Deok-Su remember? It’s just that soul yearning crap.” 

Soul Yearning:   Characterised by a strong level of sexual attraction, it is the need to be close to one’s soulmate. 

“I hope it is. I really do.” 

 “I’m sure it’ll pass,” Miri said. “Unless, one of the BTS members is your soulmate, which then explains the attraction.”

Amber laughed at that point, a high bark that should come naturally but didn’t reach her eyes. It felt a little forced in fact, her body stiffening at Miri’s words. She coughed, clearing her throat to speak when she did not hear the responding giggles that should have come from Miri. 

“You must be joking.” 

There was a pause before her best friend spoke. “If I’m right you owe me a Starbucks Vanilla Frappuccino.” 

“Please Miri.”

She could not be serious, right? 

“A Starbucks Vanilla Frappuccino and a Caramel Macchiato. Venti for both.” 

Amber shut up at that, contemplating over her best friend’s words. She groaned as a flicker of something that she could only call hope and stupidity sparked in her chest. No, no. No fantasies. She rubbed her face as she desperately tried to knock out the idea from her head. 

There was no way in hell an BTS member was her soulmate. 

The general understanding was that one’s soulmate could be found in one’s environment. Science engineers found love in science industries. Teachers paired up with teachers. Chefs with servers. Classmates with classmates. Neighbours with neighbours.

Her parents were colleagues. 

Her mother was a translator who had met her father, a soul bond researcher, as co-workers in the same company. Both were fooled by fate as one of the unlucky few whose soul bonds were undetectable or difficult to identify.

Soul beam:   In which the more time one would spend with the love of their life, the brighter their skin would glow.

Her mom described it as fireflies that glimmered softly in the dark or the glow of stars in the night sky. Her dad would launch into a full science lecture. Something about the collision of particles around the air that would create energy. 

It had been difficult for her parents to find each other. Simply because they usually met one another in a bright office setting. Suffice to say, it took quite a while for both of them to realise that they were soulmates. 

The solution involved a faulty lock on a cleaning closet and a clumsy pair of feet. That made for a pretty cute 'How-I-met-my-soulmate' story. Both had been delighted at finding someone at their workplace. 

Fate was kind in that sense, kind to soulmates and their search for one another. 

Amber laid back onto the mattress, turning on the loudspeaker on her phone to drop it beside her as she propped her head up with her hands. 

Even so, long-distance romance was not unheard of. There had been instances of tourists meeting the love of their lives on a trip. People finding their soulmate on social media, streaming sites, TV dramas even in the movie theatre. 

The thought sent another jolt of consideration through her mind. Maybe Miri was right…That would definitely explain the weird, strangely vivid sex dreams. Amber shook her head. No, no. No.

Amber was a normal girl in an average art college with average intelligence. Her grades were pushed up by hard work and sleepless nights, making her marks a tad higher than the average student. Her passion was in the arts that was for sure.

But not the performing arts. Let alone the music industry.

Amber hated attention, hated being put on the spot. She combusted easily in front of a crowd, her cheeks burning so red a thermometer to her head would read at 38.5 degrees Celsius. She was incapable of becoming a public speaker, let alone a singer or an idol. 

This meant that the chances of any of the BTS members being her soulmate was so close to zero one would have to peer through a microscope to see the space between her fingers.

There was no way they would ever meet. Amber nodded to herself a little bitterly. They were from different worlds, separated not only by space but by money. They were like two different alien species. Amber sighed, tapping on her phone and clicking on the application, which revealed the double digits that determined her current net worth.

Amber could not even afford the cheapest seat to their concert. Her savings were washed away by the art materials she needed for school...dumb shit like resin, polymer clay and the occasional fake grass. 

There was simply no way that she would ever meet the members of BTS.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Miri’s voice echoed through the speaker. 

“I’m just considering your words,” Amber replied. Her mind drifted to her hobbies in writing fiction and she flipped herself over to lay on her stomach. “You know what? Maybe I just write too much smut. It’s messing with my head. That’s all.”

She bit her lips, rubbing at the back of her neck feeling sheepish. When the dreams first started, she had penned down those fantasies without a second thought. Dreams could be the place where the best, most creative of ideas were formed and at first her wet dreams were just expendable material for her writing.

She didn’t think too much about it when she had posted them as gay smut fiction online, but now she wondered if she should just take them down. Delete those works that solidified her depravity. 

The stories that she had written were raw and filled with her unbridled desire, which made them some of her best works as an author. But at the same time they could be awfully disturbing for the BTS members involved. 

That was if they would ever read it which was unlikely, considering the fact that only two of the members could speak English fluently.  

“If you say so,” Miri sounded unconvinced.

“Besides, I’ll know next week on my 20th birthday,” Amber shrugged, running her fingers through her hair. “When I get my soul bond and possibly meet my soulmate, that is.” 

She swallowed, feeling the familiar ache of fear and excitement churning within her belly. Her destined one. The piece to her soul and the person she would fall irrevocably in love with. 

The BTS members? 

Amber scoffed to herself, shaking her head at her stupidity. They probably already had their own soulmates hidden away from the public eye. Perhaps, even a kid or two to hold when they got home. Even though there had been (surprisingly) no accidental slip-ups for the media to catch hold of, Amber was pretty sure at least one of them had a soulmate. After all, they were all past the age of 20 and should have a soul bond. That was unless they were one of the Lonely, people without a soulmate. 

A burn of disappointment twisted in her chest much to her chagrin and she slapped a palm to her cheek. Amber shook her head, irritated at her own heart. It didn't matter. Stupid wet dreams didn't matter. All that mattered was her soulmate. Her reality.

She wanted a nice soulmate. Someone who would encourage her love for the arts, not shoot it down. Someone who could understand her and would accept her for who she was. Even the part of her that loved a group of seven male idols. 

Next week, one second after the time of her birth, she would get her soul bond. Sealing her fate forever in a twisted world of arranged marriages and destined love. And that was it.

“Are you still up for a one night stand?” Miri pressed. “We could try again tomorrow.”

Amber’s breath caught in her throat at her words and she sat up, remembering her real reason for losing her virginity. She had presumed that her infatuation for BTS and the wet dreams that haunted her sleep was due to a lack of sexual activity.

The one night stand had initially been her solution to the problem. She had wanted it to blow her mind and take her thoughts away from BTS so that she could meet her soulmate fairly and love him without the thoughts of a boy band clouding her stupid head. 

But that didn’t seem to be working with one bad date after another. 

“No, it’s fine,” Amber replied after a moment. “I guess I’m not meant to lose my virginity before meeting my soulmate.” She shrugged, huffing a long sigh. “This infatuation will eventually go away once I meet my soulmate. I’ll just have to deal with it on my own.” 

“With the sex toy I got you, huh?” Miri teased and Amber’s face reddened at her words. Did she have to bring that up? “I guess us girls have got to find other ways to satisfy our needs.” 

“God. Miri!”

“Did you bring it with you?” 

Amber swallowed, nervously glancing at her purse, her eyes darting over the familiar black velvet pouch peeking out from the bag. Then she sighed in defeat. 

“I did.”

“Good, you can deal with your urges tonight then.” Miri cleared her throat, simmering into a solemn tone. “About your birthday...” There was a moment of silence as Miri pondered quietly to herself, unable to complete her sentence.

“Just spit it out!” 

“Check your messages,” her best friend ordered and Amber grumbled, reaching for her phone. 

She swiped through her device, flipping open their chat group. Miri had sent a photograph and it was still loading due to the shitty hotel Wi-Fi. Amber switched to data and clicked on the downloaded picture. 

“Have you seen it?” Miri asked impatiently. Amber blinked, her eyes moving over the mess of words and letters that were written in Korean. It took her a few seconds to switch her mind from the English that she was using to converse with her best friend, to the required Korean. 

"The Olympic Stadium? You know that I hate sports, don't you? Football isn’t my thing—" Amber paused as she squinted at the image. The familiar name stared back at her in bold printed letters.

I.D.O.L.

Listen to Me. World Tour. Category One.

Then the date of her birthday, January 19th, and a time, 7:30 PM.

What the fuck? Amber reread the words to double-check. Was she hallucinating? She blinked, rubbing her eyes and reading it again. She stared at the e-ticket unable to think, simply rereading the words over and over again. Her mind blanked as the cogs in her brain stuttered and froze. 

Amber loved BTS.

That was a fact.

It was not just simply because she was sexually attracted to them. Her love was more than just a lust for beautiful men even if her dreams did paint a different picture of how she saw them.

It was always their music. The lyrics that resounded so strongly with her emotions. The music that they sang with so much passion that she could feel it, even though their songs had gone through thousands and thousands of rounds of editing.

Most of all, she loved them because of how hard they had worked to get to where they are today. They never gave up in pursuit of their dreams and their successes which was what pulled Amber through so many cruel deadlines and harsh realities over the years.

Because if BTS could do everything and even more. So could she.

"Hello? Did I just break you?" Miri called through the phone and Amber's vision went blurry with tears. The familiar sting at the back of her throat was a tell-tale sign of the incoming waterworks. Damn it. She didn't want to cry. Amber tried desperately to suck the tears back in, blinking rapidly as she sniffled. 

"You didn't have to. You shouldn't have." Amber whispered. She was overwhelmed and her head was pounding from all the feelings that thrashed in her frame. Her heart was racing faster and faster in her chest, pumping adrenaline through her system. 

"Of course I did." Miri laughed. "You're my best friend and you’ve helped me so much over the years. I just wanted to do something for you. So I asked Deok-Su to get me two tickets directly from BTS’s company, BigHit Entertainment." 

Miri snorted, continuing with her boast. "As one of their music producers, he's got a leg up to these kinds of things. He just said he wanted to watch BTS's concert with his wife and they handed him the tickets with a word of thanks."

"They’re Deok-Su's tickets? I shouldn't—"

"Calm your tits, my girl." Miri giggled. "Deok-Su's got a business meeting in Australia on that date. He said it's your birthday present from him. A thank-you-for-taking-care-of-my-wife ticket."

"God." Amber's voice crackled, wet with her tears and she sniffed as her nose began to clog. She could feel them warm, wet and sticky crawling down her face. "You're too good to me."

"Don't cry." Amber could hear the smile in Miri's voice. "I thought I would finally hear you scream." She teased. "I didn't expect waterworks. You're such a cutie, Ambs." 

"I don't scream, you know that," Amber replied, shaking her head. “I’m in a hotel. How could I scream knowing that the occupants in the other rooms might be sleeping?”

"Polite queen." Miri giggled, sweet peals of laughter escaping her lips and echoing across the room. "Although, I’m sorry that it's on your birthday and I’m sorry that I didn’t consider your problems. I planned this way before those dreams began.” She sighed, sounding nervous as she spoke. “I didn’t know how to break it to you. I was hoping to tell you after your one night stand.” 

“It’s fine,” Amber automatically replied. A natural reflex that she had as to the word ‘sorry’, but she stiffened, tension flickering through her body. It was true that going to the concert might worsen her condition. After all, it might be better if she completely avoided her muses. 

But that would be impossible for her, knowing full and well how much BTS meant to her as her inspiration. She would continue listening to their music in the future and there would be no stopping her. 

And maybe, it was for the better that her birthday was directly after the concert. It could symbolise the end of her infatuations and the start of her new life with a lover. It might help her get over whatever phase she was currently having. 

If anything were to happen like a teleportation soul bond, a flicker bond like Miri’s or worse, a body exchange. It should make it just in time for the end of the concert. Plus, if it were truly a body exchange. It did not matter to Amber. 

Her soulmate would just have to accept her love for BTS and listen to the encore performance. She was done with trying to relinquish her musical love for those boys. They were honestly her rock in this turbulent world and she was sure that she would still be listening to the same tunes even with a lover at her side to calm her down.

Their love was simply just meant to be.

"I'm okay with it." Amber finally replied to Miri. "If it is body exchange, you're the one who has to deal with it anyway." She teased.

Miri giggled. "I promise to protect your body. How hard can it be? In fact, with your love for them, there's a high chance that your soulmate might just be at the same concert."

"I wish," Amber replied. "There's no way that fate would be that good to me."

“Anyway, there’s another present for you," Miri said. "It’s in that surprise duet from two members of BTS that’s dropping in another minute or two. A present from Deok-Su. ” 

“What?” 

“Listen to it will you?”

And her best friend ended the call leaving Amber staring at the blinking screen with a mess of emotions swirling within her body.  

A new song…A new, duet, song. 

Excitement sang within her, and her body was vibrating with her anticipation, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Sure, their group songs were usually what drove up their popularity, bringing them high into the global charts. But Amber enjoyed solos because they better displayed that particular member’s talent and personality. 

But a duet? 

Now that was something new.

Her phone buzzed and a notification popped up over the screen. 

BTS (Park Jimin feat Min Yoongi) - 'SIGN' Music Video

A singer and a rapper of the team. 

She clicked on the link without a second thought.

The screen flashed revealing the scene. It was a flat plain of water that reflected the heavens, mirroring the white clouds and the bright cerulean blue. It was a place where the land and the sky met at the horizon such that the lines between the two parallel planes blurred into one. 

It reminded her of Salar de Uyuni, the salt flats in Bolivia.

The camera panned out, revealing the lone figure at the very centre. He was dressed in a creamy long-sleeve that puffed and billowed with the wind, jeans clinging tightly to his hips and a pair of black leather boots on his feet. 

The familiar face that greeted her vision was that of a doll’s. 

Only this wasn’t some little girl’s cheap play thing. With flat strings of fibre, an awfully obnoxiously orange tan and absurd proportions that screamed of its plastic, fake origins. The man on the screen was Aphrodite personified. 

Jimin had marshmallow cheeks dusted in a tantalising rose. Full lips with a likeness to thick dollops of strawberry whipped cream. He had lush lashes that dusted over his cheeks like the gentle brush of a butterfly’s wings. And a sweet blindingly white smile that bedazzled.

Features one would find on the face of an angel in its cherubic sweet innocence. 

But in the high cheekbones that cut flatly down to close into a jawline that seared, in the hoods of sharp alluring, almond eyes and in the dip of a delicate waist that stretched to legs for days...He was an incubus moulded by the devil himself—an incubus with a maddening dichotomy of sweet and seductive. 

He had the aura of a God. 

"Phantom whispers of your voice in my sleep~"

It was as if she had been doused in something warm and sweet, a gallon of honey over her head. Her body was clenching and shivering, burning with her need for more as the muscles deep, deep inside her twisted and turned with her pleasure. 

Jimin's voice was salted caramel latte. 

The first taste was always sweet, too fucking sweet. The comforting, tangy scent of caramel danced across the tongue, strong and overpowering. Then it was consumed by the little chips of sea salt and bitter coffee that brought out the sweetness in his rich, sugary voice. 

His voice was magnificent.

"I see your shadow in the corners of my eyes~"

The combination translated into a song of a siren that had a voice of an angel. But he would occasionally force his mellifluous voice into sinful grunts and soft, sexual moans. And those sweet little moans, were exactly like the ones that haunted her sleep. 

And her mind flashed to the dream of soft lips on hers. 

The dream of their tongues twining together, grinding against one another—unrelenting in a series of roughness and wetness, bumps and curves. He was dominant in his kisses as he surged forward, savouring her lips. They were colliding back together, again and again. Her thighs lifting to straddle his hips, and his cock, thick, hard and burning hot was pressed directly against her clit—

Fuck. 

Her nipples were rock hard. They were way too sensitive as they rubbed against the inner sides of her robe, and she was painfully aware that the soft nubs were transforming into hardening peaks from the shameful twist of her squirming body. 

She should not be feeling like this. She should not be thinking about those things! She licked her drying lips, pressing a shaky hand to her chest, praying that the need would quell over time. Her eyes still remained, staring at the screen, bewitched by his beauty. Her restraint was fizzling out like a glass of water to a dying hearth.

Her fingers found their way down her body, sliding between her thighs.

And Jimin remained poised on the screen, looking smug and awfully sexy as if he knew what a bad girl she was. 

"Am I a pervert for dreaming of skin that I've not tasted on my lips?”

The video flashed and he changed. 

She gasped as her heart pounded harder, dancing in her chest at the sight. 

Jimin had a blindfold over his eyes, and rain was pelting against his beautiful hard body. The white top that once revealed nothing to the eye was now sticking to his skin like a second skin, drenched from the downpour and pale beige with its rising transparency. 

The thin fabric did nothing to hide the small hints of pink nipples obscured slightly by the spider web array of gems draped over his skin. In fact, it dipped into his belly button and peeled back slightly at his hips to reveal deep V-line muscles at the ends of his body.

This was all paired with dance moves that were definitely meant to insinuate more than just an art form. His dancing was walking on a thin line between performance and a strip show. But for some reason, despite the deliberate grinding of his hips, he managed to make every move a professional and artistic swing of his hips.

"Oh, fuck me," Amber could barely stop the curse from escaping her lips. 

Her fingers were rubbing against her clitoris, slow circle eights that sent jolts of hot pleasure through her body. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop her hips from jerking into her touch, grinding her clit into her fingers with her need. Her insides were fluttering emptily with the need for her release. Her cheeks were too hot, and her skin—it burned. 

She hated herself.

She hated herself so much. 

"I feel like a predator and you are my sweet prey~"

Jimin bit his lips, teeth sinking into the soft flesh and her eyes darted over the captivating buds of red that begged to be kissed. It had to be, for lips as alluring and as exquisite as his should be worshipped and revered by another’s.  

Then he was spinning over the wet puddles of water. His feet were sweeping across the ground, forcing the droplets of water to rise and hang in the air like an incoming tidal wave.

 And the rapper emerged from the cover of watery darkness like the devil. 

The already present low bass was amplified, thrumming in the air along with a pulsating beat. The hum of a raspy growl executed at a steady rhythm began, vibrating through the speakers of her phone. The familiar sound sent her heart fluttering excitedly within her chest. 

"Am I punished for my sins~”

Yoongi’s voice was a different kind of coffee.

The kind with a smooth mild-bodied bitterness, followed by the gasping burn of tongue-tingling chilli in the aftertaste. But beyond the aggressiveness of that taste was a refreshing chill that ran down her metaphorical throat. 

It resulted in a shiver that spilled across her skin and trickled through her body. A snaking cold elicited a phantom warmth that dwelled in her heart, flickering at the sound like a kindled flame.

Elation, excitement, adrenaline, lust.

Her juices were dripping out of her slit, beads of her arousal sliding down her creamy inner thighs. She wet her fingers with her slippery want, spreading it over the engorged bundle of nerves, dipping her fingers into her labia. And her clit, it jumped, pulsating in time with the pound of her heartbeat in her ears.

Fuck. 

Amber swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry. 

The raspy lilt of Yoongi’s voice was not that of a thirsty man or a wannabe that pushed way too much grunt and moan into each verse. This was pure effortless sexiness from an inborn naturally carnal voice. Something any woman wouldn't mind waking up to hear. 

Something any woman wouldn’t mind masturbating to. 

She found her fingers circling over her clitoris, quickening in its speed. She was impatient as she strummed, going faster and faster in hopes for an end to her sinful activity. Just this once. She told herself as she masturbated. Just one time and that’s it. I am never doing this again. She promised, her eyes glazing over with her lust as she ran towards her need for completion, uncaring of the consequences.

Yoongi appeared in his full, sexy glory. Her eyes roamed over the man. From his handsome face to the CGI black feathery wings on his back. Her eyes wandered over the leather of his clothes and the rude spread of his legs. 

His handsome face was featured with thick, low set brows set above mono-lidded eyes and the gentle arch of a regal nose. These were the softer facial features of an Asian man afflicted with the gene that prevented the loss of baby fat. Not that he looked anything like a kid if that sharp as sin jawline was any indication. 

Hell No.

“Give me an axe to carve out my heart, serve it to you on a platter meant for pig feed~"

He flickered within the video as he rapped, his silhouette disappearing with the wash of shadow and reappearing with a beam of a bright pulsating spotlight. Like a mythological creature, he vanished and returned within the same panel, morphing with the flare of light akin to some kind of dark elusive fairy.

Beautiful, dangerous, seductive. 

The magical effect was made obvious by the paleness of his skin and the bleached white blonde of his hair. The colour of milk in a saucer, maybe the white of the flesh of steamed fish, or the colour of the stars in the night sky. 

He glowed. 

“You can take me, eat me, ruin me but in exchange, let me have a taste of your honey, your cream, your peach. Let me drink you in deeply~” 

Holy fuck. 

Her heart leaped, racing faster and faster at his dirty lyrics. It was fuel to her fire, sugar to her cream and she found her pleasure rising, climbing with his sinful voice. A soft, whiny moan escaped her lips as her fingers danced over the hood of her clit, pulling it back to press directly onto the trembling engorged bundle of nerves.

Her hips jerked upwards and she stifled a wail with a bite of her lips. 

Her clit was tingling. 

The on-screen idol smirked, his eyes meandering over her body almost as if he could see her, as if he knew exactly what she was doing. The man exuded charismatic sexuality conveyed by the lazy tilt of his head and the moody hunch of his shoulders. 

Silver hoops twinkling as he tossed his head back to reveal a pale neck. The usually broody looking face that dropped into a gloomy expression when neutral transformed into a naughty grin. 

A grin that promised more things than it should.

A grin that she had seen more than once in her dreams. 

He was perched on the seat, thighs splayed wide open and obscene. His thickening cock slapped against his belly as he smirked at her from above, licking his lips. She found herself moving, her lips dancing over the mushroom bulge of his cock and then she was swallowing—

Amber's cheeks heated up at the sight and the memory of him in her dreams. It was heating from the divine clarity of his image brought forth by the millions of tiny pixels that captured his every quality. 

She watched, transfixed as he tilted his head to the side, fingers on lips which stretched teasingly, seductively. A rosy pink tongue flickered out, the muscle lightly wetting lips into a shade of red that was the colour of blood.

"It may be a death wish but at the end of it all. I’ll triumph knowing that I made you drip like a faucet with just the flick of my fucking tongue ~ " 

Fuck. 

She almost came then and there at his words, the flash of pleasurable heat that burned through her skin wrenching a strangled groan from her lips. In seeming response to her reactions Yoongi growled, spreading his legs apart to give a teasing hip thrust. 

Her eyes snapped to his groin, drawn to the way the light flickered across the leather. The darkness concealed too much for her mind to really make out anything. Even so, the image sent a rush of heat through her system and deep between her legs.  

She was so fucking close.   

The video flashed and her sight was consumed by Jimin being dragged underwater by invisible forces. Amber's breath hitched at the sight of the impossibly beautiful merman. 

His fluffy locks were afloat and little bubbles escaped his nostrils. There were little ripples of light that caressed his face, combing across his skin in waves and reflecting his eyes.

His body shook and his mouth opened in a silent scream to let a burst of air bubbles escape. He clawed at his throat and kicked his legs in a struggle for air. Amber sincerely hoped that it was a special effect scene because her heart squeezed so painfully at the sight that she felt breathless and dizzy.

"I'm drowning in need for you to be mine~"

The video switched in between shots.

Jimin was submerged at one moment, dancing with Yoongi in another, both with their lips pressed against a single rose in the next scene. Their lips separated only by the red bundle of flower petals.

Her breath hitched, her fingers strumming over her clit faster and faster. She needed something more. Something to take her over the damn edge, something to send her to nirvana.

She reached for her purse.

"Save me from this pain, let me breathe again ~ "

Amber's breath hitched as Jimin’s voice soared into octaves higher than so many girls out there. Amber swallowed as his voice climbed higher and higher reaching its peak. A peak that made her body shiver with musical chills. His voice stimulated her brain so much that it encouraged dopamine to flood into her body.

She dug the sex toy into her cunt, mercilessly sinking the tiny vibrating device to plough it into the rough bed of her g-spot. Her body reeled forward, her hips thrusting so high into the air that she was on the tips of her toes. The sheets beneath her were completely soaked in her juices, a rumpled mess of cream. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck! 

"Show me a sign ~ "

The video ended with the slow crawl of water over Jimin’s beautiful face until it completely submerged his body. His lips were forming words. English words. Her eyes rolled back into her head and a needy whimper escaped her lips as she clenched around the sex toy. 

"Let me have a taste of Ambrosia ~ "

He gasped and the video darkened, switching to Yoongi. Her name. Her breath hitched, her heart was flying in her chest. Her name. He said her name. She was in shock, so surprised that her fingers dropped from her clit as she stared at the screen of her phone. 

He stuck his tongue out, teasingly. Fuck you. Said his eyes. Eyes that dripped with promises and lust. Fuck you. He smirked, laughing to himself within the music video as he propped large hands onto the sides of the table. His body pulled back to reveal peaks of a thin waist and the glimpse of a pale belly.

She came, helplessly succumbing to the pleasure that enveloped her system as the sex toy within her body jerked upwards to dig into the sensitive patch within her. The last touch that sent her over the metaphorical mountain in her pleasure. 

Each rock of her hips sent bolts of need through her body, strong in each gargantuan wave. Her chest heaved with each gasp and sigh that escaped her lips along with the assortment of names.

So, so many names. 

She stopped when she was overstimulated, thighs clamping around her hand with her need to eject the offending sex toy from her system. She watched, panting hard as her insides squeezed the device out. It spurted out of her and it lay soaking wet on the sheets as her walls fluttered emptily around nothing. 

She laid breathless in the bed, her mind spinning as she caught her breath. She was such a horny loser. A stupid, stupid idiotic fan who lusted for the people she could never have. 

Tears burned in her eyes at the thoughts. The thoughts of her debauchery. The thoughts of her revolting yearning and need for people she did not know. The thoughts of her poor, poor soulmate and then she curled into herself and cried. 

Chapter 2

Amber and Miri arrived in South Korea on Thursday night via a business class flight. The exorbitant price had sent Amber reeling and practically on her knees, desperate to persuade her best friend that a broke girl like her should not be worthy of such luxuries. Especially since she could scarcely afford to reimburse Miri for all that she would be forking out for her.

Her bestie had declined with excuses like: 'There's no way you can get a cheap budget airline at this time!'—Very true— and 'Did you think that I would buy you tickets to a foreign concert without providing accommodation or transport? I'm not that fucking stupid or wicked!' 

Trust Miri to treat Amber's refusals as an insult to her very person.

The flight had been amazing. 

Amber gorged herself silly on the buffet spread displayed at the lounge before she had even stepped onto the aircraft. Amber called it stress eating. Miri called it Amber-trying-to-eat-out-the-whole-cost-of-the-flight. 

Like the cheapo she was. Amber had hoarded all the freebies into her bag. She devoured every single food item that they could offer to her fat ass. Even opting for a few glasses of champagne and as much apple juice as she could swallow.

She was pretty sure that the steak they had served her for lunch had been one of the best she'd ever eaten in her economy-class life. It screwed with her mind that taste buds were supposed to be duller while in the air. It got her wondering exactly how good that steak would taste on land.

After drinking (possibly) a thousand cups of apple juice, and taking a dump (a good five times) in flight just to relieve herself of the excess carbs, they finally touched down in the airport at midnight. 

The minute they exited the airport, they sped off to their hotel in a black Porsche. Said car was driven by a burly Korean chauffeur with a neck thicker than both her thighs and biceps that were twice the span of her waist. She was pretty damn sure he could snap off her neck with just his fingers.

Miri had flippantly explained that the car was one of Deok-Su's and the driver was there because Deok-Su did not trust her driving skills. The girl had scowled after that remark, sighing with a loud huff of annoyance, grumbling about her paranoid husband-to-be.

Amber had never doubted Deok-Su's fame as a music producer. But right now, with the obvious flaunting of wealth, it was safe to say that he was richer than what she had anticipated. So it was really no surprise that the place of their stay was a five-star hotel with a Michelin-starred restaurant. A commonplace of stay for Deok-Su during his business trips to the area.

At that point, Amber could vomit from the amount of money that they were spending with just this trip. Not that she wanted to know exactly how much they had blown. Ignorance was bliss and Miri was an angel. That and she was overflowing with apple juice. Her bladder bursting with too much pee.

So the minute they stepped into the lobby, she was hurtling down the hallway towards the toilets—way too preoccupied with thoughts of pee to even stop at the counter to check the bill with Miri. Amber had no doubt that seeing the number would have definitely sent urine flowing down her legs and onto the pristine white rugs of a hotel that was not meant for a person of her calibre. 

So instead of giving herself a damn heart attack, she decided to do the Olympic sprint to the restrooms. As if a massive T-Rex were after her ass and she was in some sort of crappy B-rated dinosaur action film. She would have awakened the entire hotel with the sounds of her loud flailing stomps if it were not for the thick carpeted rugs. 

Much to her horror, the female toilet was shut with the 'cleaning-in-progress' stand blocking her path to her salvation. At three in the morning, she really didn't blame the staff, but seriously? Out of all days, or all times, now? It seemed that Amber might be taking a piss on their carpeted floor. 

She tried to enter. She peeked into the cubicles in hopes that the signboard was just a lie to scare away guests. Perhaps, it was how they kept the toilets in expensive places spotless. After all, it was the customers that dirtied the washrooms. Hence if one required clean, sanitary toilets. One should just get rid of the main problem, right? 

Of course, it was not a lie, and the toilet bowls were coated with bleach and sprayed with thick layers of lime-green liquid. If she didn't want to risk skin tissue damage she was better off not using those toilet bowls especially with the BTS concert coming up. 

If she had to miss the concert just because she sat in bleach she would literally kill herself. Honestly, that was just a figure of speech but Amber was better off not risking it. She wasn’t sure what she was capable of doing in her moments of insanity. 

She bounced outside the toilet, prancing about in a weird pee dance for a few seconds, deep in contemplation as the other stickman symbol on the forbidden door stared at her with obvious judgement. 

The little stickman glowered down at her ominously. He was kind of like the clock in the exam room. Or at least, the clock when there were only five seconds left and she was starting to scribble unreadable lines across the paper. Panic flooded her system as her eyes darted back and forth from her paper to the time. 

Fuck!

Amber wanted to scream in frustration. But it was three  in the damn morning and she was in one of the most expensive hotels she'd ever stepped into. She did not want to risk waking up the entire establishment with her exasperation. 

She didn’t want to end up facing a lawsuit from one of the ridiculously rich patrons of the hotel. Her bank account could not handle the threat of dipping into negative numbers. 

Amber was more of a ‘cheap deals’ kind of girl. Her usual go-tos were dingy little motels with rugs caked in thick layers of dust and pillows crusted with unknown liquids. She was used to bad smells, to walls crawling with mould and gaudy décor that made it look as if she were in the ‘80s. 

With no other option and her pee slowly dripping out of her, a glance into the non-existent eyes of the familiar stickman symbol sent Amber sliding into the men's toilet. She dashed into an empty cubicle and slammed the door, counting down seconds as relief was finally achieved, and her bladder sighed in sheer happiness.

Freedom, said the pee. When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go. It was either this or the shiny waxed floors of the hotel. Amber nodded vigorously to herself. When in the face of two great evils, pick the lesser evil.

That was her new motto of the day.

As she wiped herself down, ready to leave, a sharp noisy screech of flip-flops on the marbled tiles echoed across the toilet. She distinctly heard the toilet door being flung open, resulting in a moment of ambient hotel noise before it closed with a soft bang. The toilet was once again an enclosure of little happy piano tunes. The previously soothing music was suddenly extremely foreboding to her ears. 

Oh, shit. 

Amber froze. Her breath hitching in her throat. She pressed her lips together in anticipation as the footsteps trailed to the cubicle beside hers. The steps were light and soft but whoever it was, he was wearing cheap plastic on his feet and it made a horrendous squeal across the waxed floors. A sound that could rival that of a dying pig. 

The sound bounced and reverberated around her, resonating with the soft piano keys that played from the speakers in the toilet. It was almost in time to the sound of her racing heart.

Shit.

With bated breath, she waited for the click of the lock. The minute she heard the clumsy snap of metal against metal, she was tearing through the cubicle towards the taps. Hygiene was still key to health, after all. She shoved her hands under the automatic tap—

—Only to be met by a few seconds of awkward air hanging time.

If one photoshopped her out of the toilet, Amber swore that she would have looked like a damn joke. Thousands of internet trolls would have placed her with golf clubs and hockey sticks. Her hands slapped together and reaching out in an exaggerated prayer, with her ass sticking out behind her.

Damn it, technology. She cursed under her breath and tried the next one, but to no avail.

When she finally figured out the mechanics of automatic taps, she was met with the sweet, sweet bubbly flow of water and she furiously rubbed her hands together. The water droplets spewed outwards, spraying all over her thick, baggy black hoodie. She was pretty sure she'd gotten at least half the water stream onto her jacket by the time she was done. 

She was ready to make a run for it. Ready to escape the depths of male secrecy and take this adventure to her grave only for a deep baritone to emit from the dreaded cubicle.

"Hello? Is anyone there?” He asked and for a brief moment, her mind blanked, unable to register his words. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat nervously letting out an embarrassed chuckle, “but could you pass me some tissue?" 

The voice was low and crisp. Thick and husky from sleep. It was the kind of natural deepness that made it difficult for Amber to guess his age by his voice alone. Especially with her mind frantically switching to its Korean filter.

Amber swallowed.

Her mind was spinning. It begged her to escape. Leave this man, it said. Let him suffer in his toilet paper scarcity. It was an achievement in life to have to take the walk of shame back to your hotel room with shit stained underwear. It would just be another bad day for this poor sucker. 

But her sympathetic, benevolent and charitable feet were already moving towards the cubicle. Her fingers involuntarily pulled out wads of tissue from the dispenser. She knelt, reaching into the cubicle with her hands outstretched.

Mentally, the scaredy-cat side of her was cursing her for her stupidity, because staying any longer in this toilet might get her a police complaint for harassment. The other side of her was singing angel praises for her bravery and kindness towards this poor bare-assed stranger.

No one liked to poop and find out there was no toilet paper. That was just horrible. The person on the other side would have agreed to this statement because he took the whole wad from her quickly, like the squirrel from Ice Age chasing after his acorn.

Fast.

"Thank you." The guy said sweetly with a voice like dripping honey in a cup of roasted black coffee. Amber was a bit too frazzled to give a detailed food description of his voice but that didn't deny its velvet beauty. Or the things it did to her exhausted body.

What she didn't expect was for the toilet door to suddenly pull wide open. What a fast ass-wiper, her traitorously weird mind commented. 

For a second, her vision was engulfed by someone tall. Her eyes met with a wall of colours and skin. He was dressed comfortably—a soft white cotton shirt and black track pants, a silky bathrobe over his shoulders. She spun away quickly, intending to leave, only to be hit by his smell.

No, it was not the smell of shit nor was it the smell of artificial air freshener. It smelled—Amber swallowed, her skin tingling at the scent—good; so good it was delicious.

Above that delicious scent was the soft warmness of his body soap, subtle floral sweetness with berry notes and a woody undertone. But under all that was something she just couldn't quite put her finger on.

It was musky and masculine. Deep and spicy. It was something she'd never smelled in her entire life and she could only describe it as the flare from a Sichuan peppercorn, the sweetness of pine and maybe the aroma of roasting tea leaves.

God. Whatever the hell it was, it was easily one of the best scents she'd ever smelled in her entire life. She wanted to bottle that smell, take long sniffs and sell it by the dozens. Seriously, whatever that perfume was it was damn, fucking good. 

Amber blinked feeling a little dazed, and also a little stupid because her mouth was flooded with saliva from his scent. And she was so embarrassed. So embarrassed that she couldn’t bear to look at the guy.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of her damn need to press her nose on his skin and inhale. Was she becoming a cannibal or something? Why the hell was she salivating over a man? 

Against her better judgement, because it was three AM and she was stupid; her idiotic mouth opened and she asked a really dumb question that probably revealed her gender.

"What did you use to make yourself smell so good?" Her Korean was a little out of practice and her voice cracked, dipping at places which thankfully must make her sound like a prepubescent boy. It probably did because the stranger didn't react in angered shock.

Instead, there was a pause and a low smooth chuckle. The kind that was crisp like a warm fire, and rich and spicy like Manuka honey. A chuckle that sent her head swimming and her face was heating up because it just sounded that good to her horny body. 

The sound burned and twirled into a fire that sunk well below her waist. It tingled and pooled between her legs. Invisible hands were ghosting over her body, coaxing parts of her to life. Parts of her that had never been touched by any other hand, save for her own. 

"Body Soap?" The faceless male figure replied. Faceless because Amber was still staring downwards away from his face. 

It was not good to stare someone down, especially if one looked extremely girly and one was standing in the man's toilet. It did, however, give her an excuse to openly ogle at the happy trail on his hard, muscular belly. 

Then he blurted out a familiar brand that Amber knew should smell of lavender and should explain the floral sweetness that masked the original delicious scent.

Amber dazedly watched as he turned to struggle with the tap, swiping his hands under the sensor over and over. His long limbs definitely made his awkward poses much less ugly as compared to how hers must have looked minutes ago.

She couldn't help it. 

Part of her, kind and loving, urged her to take a step forward to help him. The other part was eager for another sniff. Just one more before they parted ways and never met again. So she stepped forward and quickly took his hands, moving it to the perfect spot under the metal tap.

What happened next was nothing she ever imagined.

Amber had once accidentally electrocuted herself. 

She'd accidentally touched live open-wire while trying to fix the wiring of a desktop in school. It had been a moment of sheer stupidity and absolute idiocy. Her mind, addled by the lack of sleep and tinged with the onset of a cold, was incapable of making good decisions at that point of time. 

It was absolutely frightening and Amber had been powerless against the tremors that tore through her body. Her muscles had clenched and spasmed in protest. The reactions were an oddly painful sensation that sent her nerves into shock and turned her body stiff from the sudden attack. It was a buzzing sensation that she never wanted to experience again.

This was nothing like that.

This was a sudden jerk to her senses. It was like a burst of pleasant energy across her skin. Kind of like the sudden gush of vigour one would receive after a brief amount of exercise. It was as if she had always been underwater, submerged in beds of cotton drenched in sweet chloroform, and she had finally resurfaced. 

It lighted an inner warmth that she'd never known needed to be ignited. It was a soothing heat that quelled all her anxiety and took away all her worries, all her fears. It was like taking a sip of hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire after hours outside in a blizzard. It warmed her inside, making her cheeks pink and her body tingle pleasantly. 

It was sweet, warm and comforting electricity.

That was the only way she could describe the feeling that coursed up her body at his touch.

Electricity.

She was feeling all that within mere seconds of their brief touch and it elicited a gasp from her lips, which was mirrored by a sharp intake of breath from him. In her moment of shock, her eyes automatically snapped up to meet his, and what met her eyes was a familiar face that she had only seen on TV screens. 

He was bare-faced with soft white-blonde locks, slightly wet and frizzy from a recent shower. 

Droplets of water hung on his messy head of hair and they continued to drip onto the floor. The tiny beads of water were like a shimmery veil of gemstones on his hair. His fringe lightly dusted over well-shaped brows that were larger and thicker than most Asian men.

His brows drew her line of sight down towards one of the most aesthetically shaped faces Amber had ever seen in her short, pathetic life. 

Beguiling eyes were on her own. Eyes that were a deep shade of chocolate that was just light enough for her to have a brief glimpse of pupils that dilated slowly. 

They bored into hers, those eyes, flickering with a wide array of emotions that hardened his jaw and created a wrinkle between his thick brows. He was staring at her with such burning intensity that she was sure she might combust. 

At that moment Amber was noticing things she'd never known before. Like his left eye that had more creasing than the other. Like the tiny little pink scars of hyperpigmentation from his adolescence on his left cheek. Like the beauty mark under his right eye—a soft hazel colour that brought out the brown in that eye. 

Then she was noticing more than just that. 

The closeness of their faces. The soft exhale of his breath that drifted to her in minty wafts. The slight flush of pink on his cheeks that stained the pale beige hue into a pretty cherry. 

His rosy lips parted to reveal pearly squared teeth, and his tongue darted out quickly to wet drying lips that soon became sleek with saliva. The action forced her eyes to draw towards the movement on reflex, locking in on his mouth.

Her body was steadily turning hypersensitive. The need that soared in her chest was moving to settle between her thighs, right down there. Oh, God. 

She licked her lips in her nervousness and then he was looking at them. His eyes were on her mouth. Then they were meandering down her body in a deliberately sluggish descend. They stayed for far too long on the drenched swell of her breasts, moving to the stretch of her legs before darting back up to her eyes. 

Did he just check her out? Her heart lurched at the thought. Impossible. He couldn’t have, he mustn’t have. This was after all— her heart pounded in a staccato rhythm in her chest—Kim Taehyung. 

The baritone singer of BTS. 

He inhaled, moving closer and all those thoughts in her mind disappeared into nothingness. What was he doing? His lips quirked upwards at the corners. What was he thinking? His eyes flickered with his mirth. He was close, too close. So close that her eyes fluttered wanting to squeeze shut and accept his kis—

The spell was broken by the sudden rush of cold icy water on their palms, as the sensor finally decided to work at the shittiest of timings. They jerked away from each other. 

Her mind jolted awake, suddenly aware of how impossibly close they were. Of how her hips were just centimetres away from his, and how their legs were entangled with one another’s. If she just moved a little closer, just a little closer, her breasts would be pressed flush against his. 

And her nipples tingled at that thought.

She flinched, taking one huge awkward step away from him. Her legs stretched so far back that her inner thighs burned in protest. It was one huge step that elicited a smirk from him, a smile that turned her legs to absolute jelly and made her heart beat so fast she feared it might just escape from her chest.

It was the smile that killed her nerve and reminded her of the current situation. The situation that involved her, a girl, in the male toilet, with a celebrity. In her rising panic, her fingers flew away from his. 

The sudden loss of that pleasant electricity was like a cold slap to the face. It was that abrupt replacement of cold emptiness that made her long for more and she resisted the urge to reach for his hands again.

Then she was turning and dashing away as fast as her little legs could carry her. She pushed open the door of the toilet, tearing across the hallway. She swerved, spotting the open elevator doors at the lobby and Miri was directing their chauffeur in with their luggage--hers looking battered and peeling pink while Miri's was  a bright polished lime. 

She was hurtling through, pulling Miri along. And as she watched the elevator door close, she sank to her knees right onto the carpeted floors of the elevator.

Miri was alarmed, shaking her repeatedly, but Amber didn't even register her words in her mind because her mind was filled with a single name.

His name. 

Kim Taehyung. 

*

When Amber finally decided to admit her sins the very next morning, the hotel room was filled with crazed shrieking from her best friend. 

"GOD, AMBER!” She screamed. “You lucky bitch!” Miri was jumping up and down on the bed. “I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MET KIM TAEHYUNG!” She slapped her back and Amber winced.

"I know," Amber groaned, her voice trailing off into a sad little wail. She didn’t want to think about him with his impossibly sexy face, his madly alluring natural scent and their oddly sexual situation in the toilet. 

This trip was about getting BTS out of her damn head. It was about getting rid of her wet dreams before she met her soulmate. It was about cleansing her of her sins, and reminding herself that their music was, and should be, the only reason why she was a fan. 

Meeting Taehyung did nothing to help that. In fact, it now made things even worse. Because Amber was betting on the fact that he would be nothing like the man in her dreams. She was hoping that in person he was ten times uglier, a hundred times smellier and a thousand times less attractive. 

Instead, she got the damn opposite of what she wanted. He was everything like the man in her dreams, maybe even more.

"And," Miri flipped around, waving the hair curler in the air like a weapon, "instead of asking for an autograph or a picture...You ran like he was a demon after your soul?"

A nod from Amber sent Miri into her signature 'I am disappointed in you' posture. Featuring a palm to her forehead, an exaggerated slouch and a long tapered groan. She was shaking her head as she curled her red locks into natural waves. 

"My dear best friend of mine," Miri's voice was deep and solemn, purposefully lowered into a sagely voice. "What have I taught you all these years?"

"Stop rubbing salt into my wounds..." Amber said as she hooked on dangling strings of fake crystals to her ears. One-dollar steals from TaoBao.

"But that part about how his touch felt good…” Miri turned to her with a frown. “Are you sure it's not your horny brain messing with your mind?" 

"It was weird,” Amber replied, thinking back to that incident. “Kind of like being electrocuted? But in a warm way." 

She winced at her own words. It sounded strange now that she said it out loud, but she really could not describe it in any other way. He was like a massage chair? She pulled a face. A hot shower? She grimaced. Kind of like a plug to her socket? She cringed at that. 

Now that sounded a little too erotic. 

"A warm electrocution, very appropriate," Miri laughed at that. "Maybe it's one of those really strong static charges. I get that in cold countries all the time."

"Well, girl." Amber sighed, flaring her nostrils and pressing her lips into a thin line. "I don't know. It was just a very weird experience." 

She swore it was more than just a static charge. The heated look in his eyes was a clear indication that he had felt some of it too and she wasn't crazy or delusional. Then again maybe Taehyung was just magical and had magical pleasurable hands.

It would explain why fans spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to get a spot at their fan meetings. Those hands were like drugs, happy drugs. And she wouldn’t mind letting those hands travel over her skin and—she slapped her cheeks. Bad Amber. Bad. 

"Fans would kill for that chance.” Miri didn’t seem to notice her internal monologue, pacing about the room. “I seriously can't believe you're so lucky! Honestly, it would make so much more sense if you stalked him into the boy’s toilet.” 

Amber whipped around to give her a look.

"I would never do that!” She exclaimed, feeling a little upset that Miri thought so little of her. “Firstly, I don’t want to fuel my desire for them. Secondly, haven't you read the news of crazy fans dressing up as males, and heading into the toilets just to check out their idol's junk?” She tapped her feet on the carpet, feeling irritated at the thought. “That's literally sexual harassment."

She couldn’t believe how people could be so rude.

"True,” Miri nodded. “You're too much of a chicken for such a bold ass move. I can’t see you breaking any laws."

Amber stuck her tongue out at her. Accurate, but that was mean. She just didn’t see the point to cheat in exams, skip classes, or lie about doing her homework. If she was in the wrong, she would just let herself be punished.  

Amber was a goody-two-shoes through and through. 

"It's okay my dear." Miri smiled at her serenely. "With your luck, you might just see him again. If Taehyung was as informally dressed as you said, there's a 99% chance that they're staying in this very building and so we might bump into them!"

“If we see them, let’s leave them alone. We’ll see them at the concert.” Amber told her with an impatient tap of her feet as she stood at the door. She pulled out the key card and the lights in the hotel room flickered off. 

“Fine, fine.” Miri dropped the hair curler to pull on a cargo-green jacket, walking up to her. “I’m just saying it’s exciting to see celebrities up close.”

It was but Amber would rather not risk a second meeting. 

“Yes it is,” she agreed. “But we won’t. I’m sure of that. So come on, let’s just go.” 

*

Their first stop was the Art Museum. 

It was an hour’s drive from the hotel. It sat on the outskirts of the city overlooking a stretch of towering oak trees. This was the kind of place for budding new artists and gems in the rough. 

Not only did it display local works of art, it also had an art store selling art materials. There was an entire level in the building that specialised in trinkets and handicrafts. 

It was clearly not as well-known as the National Art Museum judging by the number of people she came across. Despite it being hours since opening time, she was surprised to find the museum rather empty on a Friday afternoon. Amber guessed that a good portion of their usual customers were busy camping out at the concert venue for BTS or still slaving away at work.

Miri had slipped away the minute they arrived, proclaiming it to be Amber's solo outing time. She had handed Amber the museum ticket and sped off in the Porsche to see her soulmate with promises of a late lunch.

It was unsurprising that Miri would ditch her ass. When it came to art, her best friend had absolutely no appreciation or understanding of it. Amber had tried to teach her to value art before, but that particular museum visit had turned into a disaster with her bestie becoming uninterested just five minutes in. 

The moment Amber stepped into the museum, she was met with that distinctive scent of the gallery space. That clean, cold smell of wood and dried paint. She would describe it as a combination of the rich smell of art, the dusty scent of libraries, and the crispness of airports. 

It was a scent that calmed her restless mind, giving her a tranquillity she didn’t know she needed. In the empty wide spaces and the naturally lit rooms, she found a calmness that drove out the roar of troubled thoughts in her mind. 

It was nice to just look at artworks without having to over analyse them as she did in school. The museum started with more traditional pieces that later morphed into sculptures and new media art. Common, predictable works you would generally expect to see in an art museum.

She was, however, surprised by the large ultramarine blue cloud.

The instant she stepped into the open, spacious area, a delighted gasp escaped her lips and echoed across the empty space. 

There were long pieces of bright cobalt blue plastic flaps suspended from the slanting steel structure of the museum. Placed together in such a dense cloud, the curtains of blue shimmered like rain under the light of the afternoon sun. The colours danced, shifting and flickering beautifully like soft summer rain.

A signboard at the head of the work confirmed her suspicions that the installation invited entrance. With a girlish giggle, something that rarely escaped her lips, Amber skipped into the inviting stretch, pushing past the flaps of plastic.

It was even more beautiful inside the work. 

The light reminded her of the ocean floor. The shadows of the plastic painted her skin in curls and waves of ultramarines and Prussian blues. It was a brilliant contrast to her cadmium yellow outfit. Bright yellow to blue. 

Amber was pretty sure she must be standing out like a Yellow Tang—a cute saltwater fish that was a brilliant lemon yellow colour.

The plastic was silky on her skin and Amber found herself closing her eyes, spreading her hands out to just let it all brush against her body as she moved across the fields of plastic. It was comforting, therapeutic even to just run her fingers through the flaps. The light of the sun flickered across her eyelids translating into flashes of white with the red of her flesh and blood. 

What she didn't anticipate was for her to catch something in this endless sea of blue.

A very tall, very warm something.

If Amber had her way, the collision would be soft and beautiful. With Amber throwing her hands in the most effeminate of distressed gestures as she pressed gently onto the warm body. It would be a little poof of body on body, which could be easily brushed off with a quick word of apology.

Too bad, because gravity was a bitch and Amber was a clumsy female with two left feet.

Everything happened so quickly.

At first, she was just plastered cleanly onto the person. Her nose slamming painfully into the figure’s deliciously hard, yet velvety chest. Her teeth had clinked together from the force, incisors sinking into her lips, so hard that she swore it almost broke skin.

She would have been the only casualty if it were not for the fact that her leg had stuck out to meet his incoming step. It was a collision of long limbs that sent legs into awkward turns of knees and outward flips of feet. They both tripped over each other, a tangle that sent him careening backwards, and her shooting forward like a missile.

It was all a haze after that. Amber remembered the world swirling and she didn't really know what happened next. Except that when it finally came to a stop, she was lying on the ground in the most embarrassing of positions that she could almost just die.

Die in his arms.

Amber's head rested on his bicep. Her body was pressed flush against his. Her legs entwined with his such that she was straddling his upper thigh. Her left palm was on his chest, while her other arm hung loosely over his body. 

This was limbs interlocked with limbs, bodies pressed against bodies. This was a lover's embrace in bed. A couple ready to go from second base to third. 

Amber had never really hugged someone of the opposite sex. Girl hugs were soft and warm with mounds of fat that would brush against her own. Girl hugs had the smell of sweet perfume or feminine deodorants, and the feeling of bra straps under her palms. Girl hugs featured long hair that tickled and brushed against her face.

The person in her arms was definitely a boy.

Amber's face was aflame, and heat was licking and creeping up her steadily reddening skin. These were wide shoulders and hard muscles that rippled under her touch. This was a flat chest and velvet wrapped over steel. She was so close to him that she was engulfed by his absolutely amazing smell.

It was clean.

Wrapped under that bubbly sweet scent of soap was a crisp fresh scent that was even better than the museum's. It was definitely masculine. Amber's nose twitched linking it to the sweet burn of fresh snow after a long trek up a mountain, the subtle tang of wine and maybe the aromatic bitterness of cocoa. 

A sophisticated natural scent wafted from him in soft waves.

What was with Korea and their great smelling man?

The very next second featured a struggle between the two, as the both of them attempted to sit up at the same time. With her smaller frame straddling his upper leg, it made sense that his next course of action was to push his body up in an attempt to shake her off. 

The sudden movement was accompanied by her own frantic actions to shove him away from her, only to fail as a sharp pain blossomed at her left ear. She had no choice but to follow his movements, sprawling over his body.

Her head was now resting in the crook of his neck. Her breath escaping her in short painful gasps at each yank of her body.

It didn't take her long to register the fact that her earring was very clearly stuck to something on his person. She did another experimental yank and a rumbled groan emitted from his lips. The sound vibrated up her body. It was a delicious sound that sent a shiver running up her spine and melted her insides, sending a pulse of heat across her face.

Fuck. 

She was too flustered at this point, her right hand trailing up to touch the cheap crystal hanging from her left lobe. It was interlaced with cool metal. A metal chain that was —Amber deftly traced the metal to feel soft cartilage— his earring.

Damn it. 

She cursed under her breath and it was instinctual for her to wrap her arms around his neck in an attempt to untangle their earrings. His breath hitched at her touch and she stammered out an apology as she struggled.

"Our earrings are stuck. Sorry, give me a second." She murmured lowly and it must have been her imagination because she thought she felt his body shiver at her words. 

She dug her pinkie into the offending knot, plucking at the metal chains. She pulled, her body shifting along with it and he froze. His muscles were tensing and flexing under her, fluttering from her touch. 

I’m sorry. She mentally apologised repeatedly. Her cheeks burning so hot she swore he could feel the heat. She tried again, tearing at the two. Shit! The knot grew tighter and she cursed under her breath. He stiffened. A low, exhale escaping his lips and brushing against the nape of her neck. The action sent a gush of arousal through her, her excitement saturating her panties. 

Fuck. 

She quickly realised that untangling their accessories was pointless. The two earrings were simply knotted too tightly for her to get away with this easily. That and her hands had seemed to grow clumsier by the minute from his soft, sexy moans. 

She resorted to simply removing her own earring. It gave way easily and she instinctively pressed her fingers to his chest to push herself up from their hug.

There was nothing much to look at.

Honestly, three quarters of his face was covered up, even his hair. A black beanie concealed basically everything on his head, letting only short wisps of a dark blonde hair escape. 

The colour was too dark to be a proper blonde. It was more of an ashy dark gold colour, a shade she was pretty sure cost more than her entire bank account to dye.

His youthful face was concealed by a black spongy mask that covered his lips and all of his nose. The only thing she could see besides his brows, well-threaded and thinner than most, were his eyes. 

These were huge eyes. 

Mono-lidded eyes that were framed by thick but short lashes that curled outwards at the edges. It was fox-like, all sharp and sly. It was curious, his gaze. His eyes seemed to speak to her, glittering and gleaming under the light, as if he were looking at her very soul.

She pursed her lips and her cheeks pinked, eyes widening as she realised the full extent of how intimate their position was. Their faces were mere inches apart, her breasts pressed tightly against his.

She was very aware of how she was straddling his upper thigh, feeling his quadriceps pull under her ass. She let out a small yelp and she moved to get up, digging her knees into the ground and pushing forward repeatedly without thinking clearly.

He inhaled sharply and his pupils, they dilated. They blew wider into dark abysses of black tar as a soft groan escaped his hidden lips. His entire body stiffened under her and it didn't take her more than a second to realise exactly what she did to him because his pants weren't exactly the thickest of material. They were soft sweats—cotton-like cloth that hid nothing.

And there was something really firm and long, pressing against her thinly covered knees. If she concentrated hard enough she could even make out the shape of the bulge of his cock. Holy fucking shit! Her eyes widened as they met his. She was grinding her knee into his cock. 

He seemed to realise that she knew because a flash of embarrassment flickered across his eyes. She pulled back hurriedly, cheeks transforming into a flaming red hue as she murmured repeated apologies which he echoed back in his own cute stammers. 

She flopped to the side, pulling tangled legs out from his and finally they both managed to stand. She stood up so quickly that blood rushed down from her head and her eyes went green a little from the sudden loss of blood.

Amber was so embarrassed she didn't dare to look at him again. She bowed quickly. A ninety-degree angled bow that made her back muscles burn in protest. With her eyes teary with embarrassment she slid through the comforting plastic and away from the stunned man, running as fast as she could. 

It was only when she burst out of the museum and headed to an isolated area that she let out an embarrassed muffled scream. Amber was pretty sure she had just lost her knee virginity to another good smelling Asian male.

A hot, delicious Asian male.

Amber let out another frustrated wail into her palms. Her face crumpled as she fingered her empty left lobe. And there goes her favourite earring. 

Namjoon

Namjoon was lucky.

He remembered the times when he was just a nameless rapper, yelling words into a battered old phone and recording songs with the most horrendous of sound qualities.

He fought with his family over his dreams.

They had always wanted him to follow the family trend. They were all top-tiered workers. Lawyers, surgeons, politicians and businessmen. Workaholics with a lust for money. 

His mother had not stopped working even after his birth, hiring a nanny to care for him. For the first few years of his life, the only representation of her love for him was in the pumped breast milk that she sent by courier to his caretaker.

When he was younger, the proclaimed ‘worst link’ in the family had been his cousin. An accountant working for a start-up company. 

An accountant.

Namjoon could not see how that was a bad job. Yet his cousin had been ridiculed, looked down upon by the family and seen as the scraps of dirt on their leathered feet. They saw him as a failure, someone who would never earn as much money as themselves.

He'd seen that cousin clenching his fists under the table as his aunties passed over thick packets of pocket money during the New Year as if they were doing charity. That cousin had turned on him the minute he voiced his job as a rapper and suddenly he was the black sheep of the family.

It was not like he lacked anything.

 Like the rest of his elite family, Namjoon was smart. His IQ, naturally higher than the average person, was boosted up by tuition from high ranked professors. His childhood consisted of lesson after lesson of math, science and business. It was no wonder that the minute he stepped into official education he propelled upwards like a fighter jet in a flying competition against pigeons.

He remained as the cream of the crop for the next decade of his life.

It was easy for him. Unlike the other students who started from rock bottom, he had always been afloat in the ocean of education, chilling on his private yacht above the waters as his classmates struggled to even swim to the surface.

It was just too bad that he was born smitten with the Arts.

So when he decided not to head for university and instead start his career as an underground rapper, his family had recoiled like oil against water.

It was his mother's strangely soft heart that had kept him from the streets. He was, after all, their only child. He had written tons of songs about his feelings on the matter, countless notebooks and typed letters. 

Now with the success of BTS, he could make fun of all who had criticized him for his life choices. People like his shitty relatives. He liked to curse at them in his songs, calling them names like 'heartless money-making machines' or 'steel robots that painted themselves in gold but had hearts of dirt'.

Childish. But he couldn’t help it. 

There was one thing, however, that he could never quite make a lyrical comeback to. 

His soulmate. 

His non-existent soulmate. 

On his 20th birthday, he had been all smiles. Heart racing with anticipation, stomach fluttering with butterflies, feet pacing about the room. He had gone to bed at 5 AM and woken up at 7 AM, slamming a palm to his alarm clock as he searched. 

He had woken up to nothing. 

No soul bond. No name on his skin. No change in his environment. No loss in his ability to see colour. No string on his pinkie. No sudden outrageous hair colour. He’d gone down the list of soul bonds, crossing out everything. 

He had absolutely nothing.

There was nothing wrong with getting no soul bond. Firstly, some of the rarer soul bonds were difficult to see. Secondly, not everyone got their soul bond on their 20th birthday. It might just mean that his soulmate was younger than him and their soul bond had something to do with her. 

It was fine. He had time and Namjoon could wait. 

Disappointment, however, clung to him like a cloud as the years passed and he grew older. He tried to reason to himself. He told himself that fame made it harder for a relationship to prosper. That he should be thankful for the time given to him to become a better person. Someone who would better cherish his soulmate.

As he aged, his relatives started whispering to one another. Namjoon lumped it to their jealousy for his success and fame. Their bitterness led to those envious jabs at his person.

They talked about how his failures in his career led to his lack of a soulmate. About how he sinned on stage with those perverted dances and songs. About how he was a playboy, a trickster who spun dreams to millions of women.

The harshest came from the cousins of his age who laughed at his makeup and the rings on his ears. They called him a weak sissy. A gay fucker with his pretty girly get-ups and use of beauty products. 

He had nothing against homosexuals, seriously, he didn’t mind if his soulmate were a guy, but the way they said it hurt. It was poison to his mind, toxic and hateful, and their words clung to him so tightly that he recoiled when their stylist would give him the option of more androgynous outfits. 

It was the reason why Namjoon rarely wore earrings. He was not like Taehyung or Jimin who docked themselves in pearled earrings and jewelled necklaces. Namjoon stuck to simple hoops and more manly jewellery when he had to.

He didn't know why he wore metal chained earrings today.

It was one day before their concert.

Nothing new. Another world tour for their fans. Fans that he appreciated very much. He was nothing without them after all, nothing but a man screaming words into the air. He owed them everything, and they made him the person he was today. 

Namjoon was famous. 

He was not a newbie to fame. He'd been balls deep in it since he was 18 years old and it had been five years of hiding from crowds and paparazzi. Five years of masks and glasses, bodyguards and security.

He was used to it and frankly speaking he found it strangely flattering to be so dearly loved by so many. Regardless, stress ate at him...at the thought of possible failure and disappointment. 

The need to live up to the expectations of his fans was so strong that it burned in his chest and suffocated him, squeezing at his lungs. So after a morning of endless rehearsals, he had opted to head to an art museum for a breather.

It was how he de-stressed. While his members took naps and de-stressed in their own little ways, he got a small army of bodyguards to follow him to the local art museum.

He melted into the work with strips of plastic. It was his personal favourite. The work swallowed him whole and took him to his quiet, happy place. The place where he was free from his worries, free from hateful self-deprecating thoughts, free from the burdens of his life. He spent an hour in that work just stewing in his head, contemplating about life.

He was about to leave. It was another hour before they had to start rehearsals again and he didn’t want to be late. He did not expect to meet her on his way out. 

Namjoon was tall. 

His legs were long and he attributed it to the reason why he was clumsier than most. It was easy to trip over her feet. It was even easier to catch her small frame and pull her into his embrace to break her fall.

Namjoon was not a virgin. 

One night stands were things that came from curiosity and the lack of a soulmate. An angry night with too many glasses of alcohol had sent him into the embrace of other soulmate-less women. The pleasure had brought him to more hook-ups.

It was a thing he did with some of the members of BTS. Some, because even though all of them did not have a soulmate or at least obvious signs of a soulmate. Two of the members remained firm in their promise to keep their virginity for their soulmate. 

Now, with their rising popularity, it was much more difficult to find easy pleasure as they used to a few years back. If anything, the recent scandal where a prostitute had filmed a sleeping idol in bed confirmed their worries. There was no way they could have sex with outsiders without spilling the group’s secret of their lack of soulmates. 

One could say that the sexual frustration in the group was at an all-time high which would have been higher if not for the internet. Namjoon's computer in his studio had been attacked by thousands of viruses from all the porn he watched with them.

To be honest, Namjoon was thankful that the members did not have a soulmate. It was a bad thing to be thankful for but he believed that having a soulmate would drive a certain wedge between them.

They were brothers in everything but blood. Even so, jealousy was a strong feeling that could tear apart the closest of bonds and he didn't want to try it any time soon. 

Anyway, the girl in his arms.

He hadn't even looked at her face. It was all just the soft warmth of a feminine body pressed tightly against his own. Her breasts were warm mounds that radiated so much heat he could feel it even through the many layers of cloth.

He should be fine with just hugging. He’d fucked a girl for heaven’s sake. His tally was more than thirty and he was no blushing newbie to sex. He’d sunk his damn dick into pussy. Hugging should be nothing to him. Nothing.

Yet his body had clenched and shivered so violently with hot arousal. His blood had hummed with an awareness of her, his cock swelling with blood. He'd never been so worked up in his entire life. He was more aroused than a bumbling 18-year-old virgin who was about to have sex, more heated than the first time he had ever seen his first porn video. 

She had smelled wonderful.

He could smell the slightly bittersweet tang of coffee on her breath and that was nothing new. But her body had emitted the most amazing natural scent. He felt woozy from just breathing it in, drunk on the scent. 

It was a feminine sweetness that reminded him of apples with a musky undertone that was aromatic like crispy pie crust with little caramel chips. Truthfully, it smelled nothing like food but it was just the closest thing his mind could link to. Probably because his body was eager, too damn fucking eager, to eat her pussy out. 

It did not help when she made those soft little moans. It was probably from the pain or the frustration of being stuck with him, but his mind immediately dived right into the gutter and refused to surface.

Her soft breath had tickled the nape of his neck and then she spoke. The sound just painted an even lovelier picture of the woman in his arms.

It was sweet and lower than most girls. 

It was not the high pitch ring he was used to hearing in the women of his country. This was dark, dark chocolate dripping from her lips. 

His abdomen had burned with a pleasurable fire that roared in his veins. His cock was stirring and throbbing at her words, dripping wet with precum in his boxers. A shot of pleasure raced up his skin and it took everything for him to stop shivering too hard from her touch.

His heart had never beaten so fast and so hard before in his life. And when she sat back to finally look at him, the physical attraction had wrecked through his mind like a tornado, ruining him, destroying him.

Her hair was short, so short that it rivalled his own. She looked nothing like the average Korean woman, but he could see the traces of Asian genes in her features. 

At first glance, she wasn't perfect. Her face was too squared for society's preference, her nose while small was a little lacking in a nose bridge.

Her eyes, however, were the prettiest he had ever seen. Her lashes were so long they fanned onto her face every time she blinked, framing heavily lidded eyes that had so many creases it gave her a more exotic look. 

Her lips trembled, red and pink, round like buds of newly formed roses. Eyebrows a little messy, the tiny hairs growing out in different angles which she had styled into a nice angle.

A doll. His mind supplied as her cheeks reddened into a shade he'd never seen on a human before. It did not help that her ears tip upwards like an elf's.

Namjoon coloured at the thought.

A fairy. His mind suggested again as his eyes absorbed the colour contrast of her bright yellow sweater against the blue of the plastic. The colour was so dazzling that it almost looked like an edited photo card in real life.

A single crystal earring hung from her ear. 

It glinted and sparkled under the spotlight hanging from the ceiling like a star, reflecting sprinkles of soft pretty gold beams onto her face and into her eyes. It turned dark hazel into natural amber hues.

She was pretty, so damn fucking pretty.

His mouth dried.

He wished he could snap a picture to make it last longer. He wished he could just freeze time right there and then...Honestly, just make love to this work of art. 

God, help me. Namjoon mentally groaned. He felt like a perverted lecher and he had only just met her. He watched enraptured as her tongue flicked out to wet sticking lips. Then she did something unspeakable that killed whatever self-control he had.

Her knees rubbed against his crotch, pressing against the shaft of his painfully hard cock again, and again. The delicious friction sent spurts of pleasure up his body and forced his very horny male organ to harden full mast.

It took all his willpower to stop the strangled, sexual moan from bubbling out of his throat. The educated moral citizen in him faltered against the lust that surged across his very being, battling to keep it down.

Namjoon wanted to die when he saw realisation flicker across her face. Her cheeks had darkened to an even redder hue. He was bewildered and she was fast. She disappeared after a deep bow, running through the plastic and vanishing from view as quickly as she came.

The loss of the feeling of her body against his was like stepping out from a warmed room to meet the cold outside. It was an indescribable emptiness that he didn't know inflicted him until she left. It took seconds for his mind to run through a thousand reasons why he felt this way. And when it settled on one it sent his feet racing out of the artwork to be greeted by an empty gallery space.

His eyes darted around frantically as he spun, his feet pacing through the maze of the gallery. He headed for the main entrance, his eyes darting about for the bright yellow. He searched and searched for minutes, running past artwork after artwork, without even stopping to admire them, something he rarely did. 

His mind was screaming for that cadmium yellow. 

When security came to pick him up, bodyguards questioning his frantic movements, he was rambling with questions. When they answered with words that featured 'no' and 'we didn't see a girl in yellow'. He was silent and disappointed as he climbed into the car that would take him back to the concert venue.

Namjoon was smart.

It didn't take much for a genius like him to realise that the girl had been his soulmate.

His not-yet-twenty soulmate.

And he had let her go just like that. He had her in his embrace. She had been so close to his body, that they might as well have been lovers.

It was later on when someone pointed out the crystal hanging from his chained earring that a smile finally flickered across his face. He kept it safe in his wallet, stored in the compartment right next to a picture of his parents. He promised to himself he would give it back to her when he finally met her one day.

As an intelligent human being, he was definitely not in love. He barely knew the girl, but Namjoon was very sure his body had fallen head over heels in love with her. 

Chapter 3

Amber

"Wow,” Miri shook her head, raising silver tongs in the air. “I was starting to get the impression that you wouldn’t lose your virginity before you met your soulmate. But now?” She made an exaggerated detonation sound with her lips, using her free hand to mimic that of a plane shooting through the air. 

“Damn. Second-base in one shot. You're going to reach home base soon, my girl."

"Oh my God. Please, stop." Amber moaned, slapping a hand to her head with a hot blush on her cheeks. "It was an accident! Accident!" 

"A fantastic accident if you asked me," Miri spoke as she flipped the pork belly on the grill. The fat pooling at its surface sizzled loudly as it touched the hot metal, emitting a rich meaty scent that brought forth a growl of hunger from the depths of Amber’s stomach. 

She glanced weakly at the meat and then back at Miri. She was done with talking about what had transpired that afternoon. She wanted to forget it all and just gorge herself silly on good food and great alcohol. That man was attractive, and her body was honest. That was all. 

"And within an artwork? Damn.” Miri whistled, shaking her head. “That’s kinky as fuck. You’re fulfilling fantasies that common folk like myself wouldn’t even dream of doing. It’s like a plot for porn."

Amber pursed her lips. She had to agree with her best friend. It was kind of kinky to be straddling a man within an artwork, rubbing his cock with her knee and basically moaning in his ear. She pinked at that thought, her heart fluttering in her chest. 

Her situation did sound like the beginning of some weird art museum pornography. And if this really were some porn video, she probably would have kept their earrings locked together. He would then simply just have to unbutton his pants and slip his hard cock into her. It wouldn’t take much for him to enter her in that position—

Amber decided to take the chance to down her glass of soju, in hopes of driving out those dirty thoughts. The alcohol was not the industrial, mass-made stuff that she was used to drinking. The ones that smelled like scorched sugar and tasted cheap. This was traditional soju. Soju that smelled like ripe cherries and flowed down her throat easily without the familiar burn of alcohol. 

Amber had lost count of the number of birthday presents Miri had gifted to her. And this bottle of expensive soju was yet another one of her gifts which they shared over plates of Korean barbecue.

Amber's eyes darted over to her best friend, a smile on her lips. Was Miri a sugar mommy? Maybe.

Tip of the day: When one couldn't get a rich husband, one should just get a rich best friend who liked to spoil one rotten. 

"Was he hot?" Miri asked, plonking slabs of short ribs onto the grill. 

Amber blinked owlishly at her. Her mind steadily drifting back to the mysterious masked man. Handsome, muscular mysterious masked man with a voice of thick velvet and a natural scent that was pure sex. 

"Yes." Amber’s traitorous mouth immediately blurted out without a second thought. She flushed, turning into a deep beetroot red, laughing sheepishly. Damn it. She should just shut the fuck up. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know.” She waved her hand in the air. “He had on a mask and a hat. The only thing I could see were his eyes."

"Those must have been a sexy pair of eyes," Miri smirked, meeting her eye with a wink. The action immediately turned Amber into a deeper red hue. The blush on her cheeks had travelled all over her body, and her hands were trembling...goddamnit.  

“Uh,” Amber blurted out. 

“Well? Tell me more,” Miri said, bouncing excitedly in her seat. “You need to give me details. Details, Amber. Details. ” She tapped her finger on the table, looking at Amber expectantly. “So, you straddled him, your earrings were tangled. And then?”

Then…He moaned in her ear. She tried to get up, but somehow she managed to pleasure his cock with her knee. His cock, which was hard, and big, and thick, and long—

Amber looked away quickly, embarrassment clouding her mind. She didn’t want to say it, even to Miri, her best friend. It felt strangely private. She swallowed thickly, unsure of the reason why she felt this way. This just didn’t feel like one of those random crushes that she had of boys on the street. It felt personal, like something more than just—Gah. Amber exhaled. She couldn’t explain it. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling and why she was feeling this way.

She searched for a way out and took the chance to wrap a piece of grilled pork belly in lettuce, shoving it quickly into her mouth. The taste immediately distracted her, diverting her attention away from the present problem.  

Her mind exploded with pleasure as a symphony of flavours danced over her tongue. The monster in her belly howled in approval as it slobbered over the chunks of meat in her mouth. She was almost crying from the refreshing crunch of lettuce, the thick bites of juicy marbled meat and the salty thrum of soybeans. Amber bit back a moan as she hummed happily, feeling instantaneously better. 

"Stop giving me those orgasmic facial expressions and start giving me the juicy story, Amber!" Miri snapped, pouting as she glared at her. 

Amber looked at her pointedly then back at the grill. She chewed, swallowed and then her chopsticks snapped out to pierce into yet another piece of meat. She stuffed it quickly into her mouth at breakneck speed. Amber continued chewing happily, blatantly ignoring her BFF.

"Amber..."

Amber pointed at her bulging cheeks and gave her best friend a closed eye smile.

"Are you kidding me?” Miri slapped the silver tongs onto the grill. “Your tactic now is to stuff your face so you don't have to talk to me?"

Amber nodded. She only spilt a tiny bit of the situation and her face was already burning from embarrassment. She was pretty sure if she said more she would have a heart attack. Her panties would also be ruined at the same time, and she was not looking forward to scrubbing her cream out of the fabric in the shower later. 

"Fine!" Miri growled. "I'll just have to eat the meat quickly then!" 

Her best friend swiped up a huge piece of pork belly, soaking it in a generous amount of spicy soybean paste and shoving the whole chunk into her mouth. Amber whined in protest, quickly snatching up another piece of beef. 

She wasn’t going down without a fight! 

They eventually stopped after another five plates of meat, calling it a truce and heading back to their hotel. The moment they entered their hotel room, Amber called first dibs on the shower in an attempt to escape Miri's interrogation on her love life. 

By the time she was out of the toilet, skin glowing red from the heat of the water, Miri was too tired to bug her with her questions, stumbling right into the shower for a bath without a peep.

Thank God for that. Amber sighed with relief. Retelling the story was basically like reliving the story. And Amber had already re-experienced that story a thousand times in her head.

Amber walked out of the room, heading down to the convenience store located at the ground level of the hotel with a skip in her step. She wanted a cold drink. Something sweet and refreshing that would drive out the heat that burned in her lower belly.  

Was that even possible? Maybe. She wouldn’t know until she tried. Plus, her throat was parched from all that smoked meat, so dry that her tongue flopped about like a fish out of water in the middle of the sandy Saharan Desert.

Okay. Honestly, it was her fault.

She was thirsty as hell because she had blasted hot (almost) boiling water all over her skin. She had practically cooked herself in the shower. It was a mad attempt to burn away her lustful thoughts of the men she had just met that day. In hindsight, she should have frozen herself with icy water instead, that would have definitely taken the heat out of her system. 

She grimaced at the thought. Damn it, Amber! She had read enough smutty fiction to know that a cold shower was the trick to get rid of perverted thoughts. Guys took cold showers all the time. She licked her lips. Did ‘masked man’ take a cold shower after their meeting? Or did he take matters into hand, simply wrapping his fingers around his cock to masturba—Okay, no. No more lustful thoughts. No more!

 She slapped her cheeks, stepping into the store. 

The convenience store was bright. It gleamed in a myriad of colours from the thousands of shiny mass-produced products. It was blinding to her tired eyes and it took a moment for them to adjust from the soft yellow glow of the hotel to the bright fluorescent light of the store. The happy tune that played didn't help the transition and Amber felt as if she had stepped into another dimension.

Ambience—the key to a store's success.

She stalked past the dry food aisle, heading straight to the stretch of refrigerators. She clamped her teeth together as wafts of cold air ghosted up her skin. Goose bumps were popping over her peach coloured flesh and her nipples were hardening from the dropping temperature. Amber sighed, darting her gaze quickly down to her chest.

She was not exactly properly clothed.

She was dressed comfortably—a green long-sleeved cotton shirt and jogger pants that hung low on her hips. At first glance, she was generously covered. There was no cleavage, no ass, and no tummy.

But, Amber was not one to wear her bra to sleep. It was just uncomfortable as hell and the wires dug into her skin leaving behind itchy red lines, which explained her current very obvious problem.

Shit.

Amber cursed on seeing pebbled nipples poking against her shirt. It was dreadfully obvious in the light of the store, and she could even make out the darker shades of her areola. Damn it. She should have just flung on a jacket or maybe the hotel robe to conceal her braless state.

She made a face, looking around to see if anyone had caught her staring at her boobs. Thankfully, it was late and the only other person in the store was the cashier who looked ready to pass out into her bed. She thanked God that the salesperson was female and she hurried to make her purchase. 

Amber grabbed a bottle of strawberry flavoured milk from the shelf. She handed the product with the money to the cashier, subconsciously hunching her back in an attempt to hide her nipples. The middle-aged lady didn’t even notice, struggling to keep her own eyes open as she scanned her item.

The second the woman handed her the drink, Amber was spinning on her heels heading out of the store in rapid strides. As she stepped out of the shop, entering into the safety of the darkly lit hotel lobby, Amber faked nonchalance to her state of undress. She peeled open the aluminium covering of the drink to take a quick, hasty swig.

The milk was sweet, swirling down her throat in an icy cold spiral that doused some of the heat in her belly. While the drink tasted nothing like actual strawberries and was definitely just flavoured chemicals; the sweet, flowery taste was a personal favourite.

Her legs settled into a slower pace as she took another huge gulp, tilting her head back for another mouthful.

A stupid move for the queen of disasters.

Her shoulder collided into a wall of flesh, sending a cascade of milk dripping from her lips. It went all over her shirt and the sudden flood of icy cold liquid on her breasts made her baulk. Amber spluttered, spewing more of the drink from her lips like a fountain. She swayed forward dangerously, her drink threatening to spill even further.

"Aw fuck!” The reason for her disaster proceeded to curse fluently in multiple languages. “I’m so sorry!" He held her in place, steadying her with his large hands. They spanned across her hips, warm and deliciously hot against the coldness of soaked fabric. He let go quickly, too quickly, and the loss of that heat was somehow painful. She inhaled sharply at her need for his touch.

Amber swallowed the rest of the milk in her mouth. The liquid swerved, nearly going down the wrong pipe, and her throat constricted painfully, tears blurring her vision. 

She blinked rapidly, her eyes  dazed from the sudden impact. Her brain was struggling to register what the hell had just happened. She glanced up to the sight of extravagant bright orange-tinted glasses. She had to squint to even make out the shape of his eyes.

The guy standing before her was covered from head to toe. His hair was hidden by a bucket hat, lips covered by a black mask and eyes concealed behind those flamboyant orange sunglasses. Her eyes drifted down to his attire and Amber stifled a bark of laughter.

There was nothing wrong with the individual pieces of clothing. The green camo jacket. The blue striped pyjamas. The rainbow socks. However, when put together, the entire getup was just hilarious. She struggled to stop herself from laughing out loud, biting her lip so hard that she drew blood.

On a closer look, she noticed the wisps of curly orange locks. Some strands of his unruly hair even mirrored the colour of his sunglasses and it just made his get-up look even worse. 

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'll get you another cup of milk?" The guy spluttered muffled Korean words that tumbled out of a covered mouth.

"It’s okay.” Amber let out awkward barks of laughter, shaking her head. "No need to feed my fat ass with even more carbs. I do not need the extra calories.” She swallowed thickly. “But thanks for the offer.” 

"You're kidding, right?” 

The guy stepped forward and suddenly she was hit by his amazing scent. Tangerines and the woody burn of cedar. Holy fuck. Her mouth went dry at the smell. She inhaled deeply, getting a lungful of his refreshing masculinity in her haze of lust and then she remembered exactly where she was. 

“N-No?” She stammered out, licking her lips. 

“Fat?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Where did you get that idea from?" 

Amber could see the peaks of a raised brow from the shadows of his bucket hat. She gave him a breathy laugh, feeling a little shaken by his smell. Amber mentally groaned. Was her body just that compatible with people from the general Korea population? Was she lacking some gene?

"My food baby?" Amber replied, tilting her head. "Maybe the fact that my waist isn't exactly the size of an A4 paper?"

"A4?" He tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowing together at her words. "Is that a trend?" 

Amber wasn’t one to worry about the flaws in her appearance, and she had grown to be a woman who didn’t care much about following societal trends in terms of her weight and size. She had a healthy BMI (Body Mass Index) for her height and that was good enough for her. 

But, sometimes those thoughts did get to her, like that stupid trend on social media. She knew that she shouldn’t have even bothered placing that piece of paper over her waist. But the difference in size had hurt her more than she had expected, and the thought did trouble her mind when she was at her weakest. 

"Well, yeah,” she gestured to her body, to her generous curves and thick waist. “I've, clearly, failed the test." She dropped her hand, propping it at her hips. “It would do me some good to lose a few pounds.” 

He was quiet for a moment and she had to squint a little to try to read his facial expression. Then he opened his mouth to speak. “Why degrade yourself to that piece of paper?” He hummed lowly. “From top to bottom, you are perfect the way you are~" 

There was a cheeky tone to his voice as he sang the song by a famous British singer. His voice was cute. It was sweet and light-hearted, goofy and comedic. A pleasurable shiver ran across her skin as she stared at the man before her. 

His voice was smooth and creamy in tone, but also tart and tangy in the way he expressed himself. It was a little like a cup of yoghurt. The initial sweetness was followed by the sour tang of citrus. It was refreshing and somehow really, really familiar. 

So very, very familiar.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it.

"Does that mean you're an ass man?" Amber teased. She cleared her throat to softly sing the tunes of another line in the original song. "I like to hold your ass in my hands, run my fingers along your curves~"

Her voice echoed around them, cutting into the soft hotel music, clear and steady. Amber knew her voice didn't have the usual mezzo-soprano pitch that most girls would have. It was lower and could easily pass off for a boy's. It was precisely because of this that a jolt of fear shot through her system after her ‘solo debut’. She was afraid that he might be disgusted by the sound of her ‘manly’ voice. Her self-degrading thoughts were broken by a pleasant hum of approval and a reply.

"Hmm. Maybe," His voice lilted and if she squinted hard enough she could see that his eyes had curved into little rainbows from his amusement. "You'll just have to find out yourself." The last sentence spilt from his lips in a low seductive purr. 

It dipped into a sweet voice that did things to her body, naughty things. It felt as if her nerves were alight, her nipples hardening into sensitive tips and her inner muscles fluttering emptily with her need. 

She swallowed thickly. The soft ambient music of the hotel was now dulled into a low hum at the back of her mind as she scrutinised the man before her, intoxicated by his scent and his presence. It was as if the world around her had disappeared and he was all that she could see. 

Or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her because he was standing too close to her. So close that he was practically within her personal space and yet she didn't feel an ounce of discomfort. Rather, her body welcomed him. It yearned for his touch. And her heart was sent pounding under her skin, quickening from the heated burn of his concealed gaze.

Amber blinked, her mind finally registering his words. She coughed into her palm, feeling her cheeks warming into a bright pink. What did he say? Her mind replayed his words. Oh, that. She flicked her tongue out to wet drying lips and subconsciously bit into the soft flesh. Was he flirting with her? The realisation sent a rush of panic through her system.

"UWU." She gasped out, unable to form proper words with her suddenly useless tongue. 

In her state of stupor, her immediate reaction was to reply in internet slang. The famed emoticon had escaped her lips in its verbal, unusual form. It would have been terribly awkward if he didn’t recognise the reference and she braced herself in preparation for his confusion. 

She watched as he froze at the sound, his shoulders going stiff. And then he was letting out a throaty laugh. He attempted to stifle it down out of respect for her, but the sound squeaked in his throat in breathy huffed out chuckles. He seemed to give up eventually, throwing his head back to laugh. 

It was bright and sunny. 

Bursts of deep laughter came straight from his diaphragm. It was a contagious sort of laughter that shook his entire frame. His happiness consumed him, and it spread outwards like a typhoon, infecting all in its wake.

“Did you just give me an emoticon?” He managed to say in between laughter. "You’re so damn cute!" 

His laughter was infectious, and Amber couldn’t help but let the bubbles of laughter escape her lips. He inhaled deeply and when he opened his mouth again, his voice was loud, bright and cheery. 

Familiar. 

"Let me buy you another cup of milk as an apology" He bounced on the balls of his feet as he grew more and more excited. The strands of hair that peeked out from his hat were jumping along with him. "Chocolate? Strawberry again? Banana maybe? That's my favourite." He paused after that, looking at her expectantly waiting for her answer.

"Okay," Amber couldn't help but reply with a shy nod. 

She could see hints of his smile from the crinkle of his eyes and the stretch of his mask. He chuckled and bolted towards the convenience store, turning back every three steps to see if she was trailing him. She followed him, re-entering the blinding store again and watched as he grabbed two bottles of banana milk from the fridge.

"One for me and one for you," He said sweetly, turning to look at her only to stiffen. His body froze, muscles clamping up for a second too long to be considered normal. If this were a cartoon, this would be the animator's cue to draw him as a rock statue. Grey and marbled.

Amber blinked, her lips curving downwards. What was wrong? She inspected him, searching his features for the answer to his reaction. Her eyes attempted to decipher exactly what he was looking at, and she squinted at his glasses trying to make out his pupils. It was really too bad because the bright lights of the store reflected against his orange shades, which made it even harder to interpret his facial expressions. Did he forget his wallet? 

She reached into her pocket, intending to pull out her wallet only to feel soft fabric wrap around her shoulders. She glanced up, her breath hitching as he stepped up to her. He was close. So close that she was made aware, yet again, of exactly how tall he was and how good he smelled.

He placed his jacket on her shoulders, gently pulling it close to cover her body. His scent enveloped her, tangerines and cedar, and she resisted the urge to bury her nose into the soft fabric.

"You look cold..." 

His voice was odd. While it was gentle and filled with that same teasing warmth, Amber noted the strain within them. It left her mouth oddly dry and sent her stomach into a hyperdrive of fluttering oversensitivity.

He was breathless. She licked her lips. The pitch in his voice was just off. And if she were to indulge in her sick fantasies, it sounded as if he were talking and getting blown by a girl at the same time.  

He spun on his heels sharply, heading to the cashier to pay for their drinks and she followed him curiously. Her lips were pursed into a thin line as she inspected him. She frowned, her eyes noting the tenseness in his shoulders, the dance of muscles in his neck and his clenched jaw. 

Amber followed him out of the store, watching as he fiddled with a tiny straw, piercing it into the drink.

"Here," he turned around to face her, the tension in his body vanishing almost immediately. "Drink up!" 

His voice had lost that strain and was now replaced with his familiar sunny, happy tone. Amber took the bottle from him to sip slowly at the drink as they walked towards the main lobby in slow, languid strides. Maybe, he was just sleepy? She dismissed the confusing thoughts, choosing to snuggle into the warmth of his jacket, inhaling his scent. Damn. Could she buy his natural scent from him? She could make a profit selling Eau de Orange Man.

"Thanks,” she told him after a few sips. “I love strawberries, but one can't go wrong with banana flavour."  

“They’re both really sweet flavours,” he mused, turning his head to look at her. “Like you.” 

What the fuck? She inhaled sharply and in the process, she sucked a little too hard on the tiny straw. The milk leaked from her lips and she quickly caught it with her tongue.. 

Amber winced as the memory of the voice of her Asian mother thundered within her mind. Are there holes in your lips? Do I need to sew them closed for you? Can’t you eat your food properly? Close your mouth when you eat! Be polite! 

My mouth is a hole, damn it. She mentally grumbled back. Oh shit. Did he see her do that? Amber glanced at the guy. He was staring at her, holding his drink idly in his palms. Was he looking at her? She peeked at his glasses. It was impossible to tell. She blushed, feeling embarrassed.

She cleared her throat and laughed. "Thanks.” She didn’t really know how to reply to his compliment. You’re just as sweet? You smell amazing? She licked her lips again, deciding to avoid the subject. “When it comes to bananas, I like the real fruit much more than the artificial flavouring. I eat it all the time for breakfast."

Fuck, she was rambling. Her cheeks reddened. Why would he want to know about her eating habits when it came to bananas? She should have just kept her stupid mouth shut!

"What kind?"

She stared at him.

“Pardon?” 

“How do you eat it?” He asked, his voice soft and strangely low. “Blended? On toast with bread? Or do you eat it as it is?”  He appeared out of it. His voice was far away within his head and his hum dragged out a bit too long to just be a thought filler.

"Just as it is. Peeled.” She replied quickly, feeling a little confused. “I like it dipped in chocolate too. Kind of like the ones at Japanese festivals? The ones with rainbow sprinkles." Amber prattled on. "It's like a popsicle!"

They should stop talking about bananas.

"P-Popsicle?"

He sounded amazed. She flushed. Did she sound childish to him?

"Uhhh, like a lollipop."

She should just shut up.

"Lolli...pop." 

He choked, coughing violently under his mask. He turned away from her to cough into his hand, his shoulders heaving as he tried to expel the liquid from his lungs. Amber gasped, her eyes widening in shock and she moved automatically to rub his back in soothing circles. 

"I'm fine.” He tried to wave her off only to cough again. "I choked on the milk." He wheezed and when he finally got it out of the wrong pipe, he heaved a huge sigh. "Fuck, I must look really stupid.”

"No, no, not at all." Amber shook her head quickly. She tried to think of words to say that would make him feel better. "Relax,” she shrugged, “I choke on my saliva all the time. It's my hobby."

Wait for a second, what did she just say? She blinked, inhaling sharply. Saliva choking. A HOBBY? She mentally bashed her head against a wall. She should just sew her mouth shut.

"Hobby?" He snorted. 

"Um...talent?"

Fuck! She should just shut up now! She snapped her lips together tightly. 

"Talent?" He was chuckling at this point, shoulders shaking from his mirth. 

"Oh my God!" Amber groaned, slapping a palm to her forehead. God help her. "Forget what I just said. Just let me die in a ditch right now." What the shit was she saying?

"Don't die," there was a tenderness to his voice, a sweetness that made her brows furrow. "You're way too cute to deprive someone of his soulmate."

His words sent a mixture of feelings swirling in her chest. Feelings that she didn’t have time to pinpoint and dissect because he was stammering and blushing furiously at the very next second. 

"S-Sorry that was out of line from me. You must have a soulmate—"

"I don't."

"What?” He stopped mid-step, turning to look at her. She watched as he swallowed and shook his head. “Oh. You're waiting too." 

Amber didn't know why his replies were growing heavy with his disappointment. Something within her snapped and she jogged up to face him, her heart pushing her to explain her situation. 

"I'm not twenty yet," Amber told him quickly. "I’m still young, single and free." 

"Oh!"

It was comical. The way that word had escaped his lips melodically, the note rising at the end. Amber exhaled, her lips spreading into a wider grin. Hold on a second...She observed him carefully as realisation dawned on her.

"You think it's me, don't you? Bad-fashion-uncle.” 

Amber teased, her voice dipping into a low drawl. She tried to appear aloof but inside she was soaring, her heart racing in her chest. Orange guy stiffened and laughed, trying to act as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Uh,” he let out a couple of barks of laughter. “Wait, what?” He gasped. “Bad fashion? Excuse me!" He rapidly tried to change the topic, frantically attempting to dispel her suspicions.

“Don't change the topic," Amber continued to tease him, her grin growing wider and wider.

"How dare you call me an uncle, I'm only twenty-five!" 

"Oh damn, I thought you were twenty-three," Amber continued to tease. "Oh sorry, grandpa."

"Hey!"

"Fine," Amber giggled, beaming up at him. They reached the lift lobby and she stopped. "I'll let you off. Thanks for the drink and the jacket, mister." Amber slipped the silky thing off her shoulders, only for him to put it back over her skin.

"Keep it."

"Excuse me?"

"Give it to me when we meet again."

"You sound very sure we will meet again." Amber raised a brow. Sure he smelled good but was he serious about them being soulmates? She scrutinized him. If only he would just take off that mask, those glasses and his bucket hat…

"I have five years of experience, kid," he shrugged. "Besides, you look good in my clothes, you can keep it."

"Maybe...Even better?" Amber teased.

"Wait,” he gave her a look. “Is that a jab at my fashion sense again?" 

He faked annoyance, folding his hands and tapping his foot comically. Amber burst into peals of laughter. It was not that funny but something about his presence just made her want to smile. He chuckled along with her. 

When she finally stopped laughing, there was a moment of comfortable silence as she basked in his presence. Under the glow of the soft yellow light, she could see shadows of almond-shaped eyes that curved upwards into moons of happiness. 

His gaze, while obscured by orange, was warm and very, very tender. It made her heart quiver and melt into a puddle of goo. It was as if he were melting her very soul as if he were her—

The ding of the elevator's arrival broke them out of their moment and Amber was frantically clambering into the lift. She was embarrassed and confused by the mood in the air. He didn’t make a move to get in, and so she moved to press the button that led to her floor.

"What's your name?" He called.

"Oh!" Amber was embarrassed. Shit, she forgot to give him her name. "Ambrosia. Amber, if you will. You?"

"Hob -"

The elevator slammed close before he finished his words and Amber frowned feeling a little annoyed. Damn. She glared at the elevator. What a cock block. 

Jin

On the day of the concert, Jin needed coffee to stay awake.

He usually spent the entire night before, lying wide awake in bed, just thinking about the million ways he could screw up on stage. His mind was creative. Sometimes he stayed awake to thoughts of his pants (and underwear) splitting open during a hip thrust, effectively flashing his fans and soiling his reputation forever. 

Other times it was to thoughts of himself tripping and accidentally stabbing himself with the microphone stand. Both were highly impossible situations that were still worth worrying about.

The scarier ones were the realistic fears. The fear of  burping in the middle of singing, voice cracks, forgetting steps, messing up lyrics or accidentally injuring the other members. Those mistakes happened so often that one would assume that he would be used to it. But the tears that ensued never stopped. 

The possibilities were endless and so it took a bit more effort to sleep the day before the concert.

In the past, he used to have soulmate fears. Fears like experiencing a body exchange mid-song...Maybe a voice switch or a sight swap while he was singing. That would fucking suck. But those fears were never just about the tightness in the chest, the bellyaches, the dizziness and the chills.

They were always mixed with excitement, the kind that thrummed across his skin in waves of hope and longing.

A few years ago, he used to complain about it to his members. 'What if my soulmate appears on stage instead of me?' He would say. 'What would you do?' They would come up with thousands of stupid suggestions which they would laugh cheerily at. It was a good way to relax. Topics on their soulmates always brightened the mood. 

Jin didn't do it anymore.

None of them did.

With their youngest team member, JungKook, already passing the one year mark it was clear that he would face a similar fate as the rest of his older ‘brothers’. The staff told them that they were lucky. Fate had given them the chance to focus on their careers without any distractions.

Their managers told them that they should be thankful that they didn't have to deal with a screaming kid when they got home. Their bosses laughed and urged them to enjoy their singlehood as much as they could. 

Their fellow dancers told them the years would give them time to earn money to support a future family. The makeup artists told them that the wait would translate into an appreciation for their soulmate that not many would have.

To Jin, lucky was the wrong word to use.

His mother had passed away when he was sixteen. It was a common story, an age-old tale that started with the creation of vehicles. Every day, twenty-eight people die as a result of drunk driving. 

His beautiful mother had been one of the twenty-eight on a nice summer day where the sun shined even when it rained. It used to be his favourite kind of day. He liked it when the sun hit those beads of falling water creating tiny flecks of light in the landscape. Now, it just reminded him of his mother’s death.

Time is short, his father said. Appreciate your soulmate while you still can. Love them, cherish them and protect them. Jin vowed that he would. He swore on his mother's grave. As a child, she used to tell him that the only woman he could love more than her was his soulmate and he promised her that he would. 

It was probably why he converted from being the type of guy to run from kissing scenes in movies to one that squealed over cute romantic comedies. Jin was a romantic and he was fascinated with the idea of soulmates.

It was probably the reason why it had hurt so much when no soul mark was there to greet him on his 20th birthday.

Each day was a disappointment. 

A piece of barb wire forced into his heart that dug deeper over time. It was a hammer to the glass of his heart, which shattered further with each passing day until all that was left were smithereens.

Jin no longer went to bed each night bursting with hope. He was numb from the disappointment.

They all were.

Most of BTS were way past their prime.

Soul bonds were common. The average person learnt that he/she had a soulmate at twenty years old. Those without soul bonds usually figured out that they had a soulmate within six months. Any more time and one was in the rare 10% of the population that had no clue what the fuck was going on.

Jin had waited six years.

At this point, the chances of his soulmate being dead were much higher than the chances that his soulmate was an unfertilized egg. He was pretty much one foot into the population of forever-singles. The people of the Lonely. The people who did not have soulmates or had lost their soulmate to an accident.

He buried himself in work as a distraction. His motto was 'if he had no soulmate, his fans would then be his soulmate.' Jin was not the flirtiest in the team but he was the most loving. At fan meetings, he treated every fan with the same amount of tenderness that he would have given to his soulmate.

His lack of a soulmate was also the reason why he hated visiting his brother or any other friend outside of BTS. At his age, his peers were well into the relationship, most were preparing for marriage. Or they were already married and with a child. They were all a painful reminder of what he did not have.

The members talked about it sometimes.

On most days, Jin joked and laughed about it. On bad days he sat with Yoongi and just cried, and cried about the unfairness of life, which (according to Yoongi) was a great way to gain inspiration for song lyrics. Because the best songs were the ones born out of pain and sorrow.

That dumb shit was just using him to write song lyrics.

It was kind of sad, but his best solo single, which had topped charts and garnered a hundred million views on Youtube was a song called ‘I Love Myself’.

Their fans believed it was about self-appreciation. His members knew it was really about him being salty because he had no soulmate. Jin needed his coffee. Without it, he was a sad, depressing mess that was nothing like his usual self.

He stepped into the hotel's restaurant in search of coffee from the free breakfast that came with their rooms. On concert days, the members didn't eat from the hotel breakfast. 

Their meals were catered for and specifically picked to prevent any food poisoning. While the quality of the hotel buffet breakfast could not be denied, one could never be too careful.

But Jin had decided to break some rules. It was a little too early to get the staff members to go out for a coffee run, with most of them still asleep or busy getting ready.

Dressed in skinny jeans and a simple black t-shirt, he had slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a black mask to hide his identity. Thankfully, there was barely anyone in the restaurant and he sat by himself, sipping on coffee while he watched the sunrise.

He daydreamed for a bit, zoning out a few times.

He didn't notice her until he finished his cup of coffee and sat up, ready to leave. Frankly speaking, it was hard not to notice her.

She was sparkling.

Seated directly in the light of the morning sun, the soft rays of daylight danced over her skin, trailing long fingers over her collarbone. Half of her face was illuminated, highlighting the length of her eyelashes and the dip of her cute little nose.

She would look like a pixie if not for the generous swell of her breasts, barely concealed by her slim short-sleeved chiffon blouse. The V-neck exposed her collarbone and the soft pink of her skin.

Jin didn't know he had a thing for collarbones until now. He definitely did now.

He would have continued to wax on poetically about her looks if not for her sudden actions. She had reached towards her plate, small slender fingers picking up a slice of toast with—Jin squinted for a better look—mango and avocado.

He watched, transfixed as she took her time to pick up a lemon slice. She squeezed it over the mango generously. She then picked it up, gently placing it on her tongue to take a small dainty bite of bread.

If you told Jin that he would one day see a slow-motion food advertisement in real life, he would have laughed in your face.

She was chewing slowly, with each bite her face melted into bliss that Jin had only seen in porn videos. Her eyes were fluttering, fanning thick and long lashes across pinked cheeks. And her rosebud shaped lips, crimson red and plump, parted slowly, making a small 'o' shape.

Oh God. Jin's mind was in overdrive but he couldn’t break his gaze away from her. Heat shot across his body, burning his skin and lighting a fire in his groin. His cock was all but growling for freedom behind the zipper of his jeans. It throbbed, hard and painful at the sight of her. His mouth was dry as it parted to hang open in his dazed shock.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Jin swore her eyes rolled back into her head. It didn't help that she hummed, pressing those cute lips together. Her throat was bobbing up and down as she swallowed.

The killer move was when a bead of mango juice spilt from the corner of her lips. The little pink muscle that darted out, licking at the spilt liquid before retreating was enough to send his heart beating so hard it hurt to breathe.

He had never seen someone eat so sensually. It must be a crime. A crimecrimecrimecrimeCRIME—

He instinctively slapped a hand to his covered lips, as he bent down to give a muffled scream. His face was hot. It was so hot that he was dizzy from the heat, from the hormones, from everything. His dick was so hard, it was fucking weeping in his pants. It was drenching his underwear making it stick to his skin and it felt as if he’d peed his pants.

Precum, the enemy of all men.

GOD.

Jin was twenty-six.

He was a virgin but he'd tasted the pleasures of the adult world. To put it simply, his dick had been sucked before. Of course it had been amazing. Of course he had been blushing. Of course he came in like three minutes during his first time. But he'd never, never blushed this badly before.

These were uncharted waters for a virgin like him.

HELP.

Jin was scared. So scared because he knew that he must talk to her. It was now or never. Seize the opportunity, his mother would say. Seize the fucking opportunity, Kim Seokjin!

Pulling his shirt as far down as it possibly could go to cover his erection, Jin somehow managed to stand in front of the girl. And when he was right before her his mind blanked. It was flooded with the colour of her eyes under the sun. 

They were copper against honey. They were sunlight through a bottle of malt whisky. They were caramel cocoa. They were honey tea and coffee. They were the flecks of sand on the beach in his hometown. They were the syrup on his pancakes. They were—

"Do you want me?" Her voice was beautiful. It was low and dark in her throaty hum, like chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. Rainbow sprinkles because Jin loved rainbow sprinkles.

Jin jumped at her words. W-what? His heart was pounding in his head, the blood rushing through his system at an even faster rate than when he did high cardio exercise.

"Avocado, mango toast?" She pointed to her plate and at the slices of mangoes.

Oh. Jin gulped. He must have autocorrected 'some' to 'me' in his mind.

"Um! Yes, please?" He chirped out without thinking. His voice was weird. It was oddly high and off-pitched. She smiled and Jin swore it was rainbows and sunshine, sparkles and unicorns.

Fuck. He was going crazy.

She gently picked up a slice of toast with a napkin, buttering it generously, and spreading thick layers of avocado over the crispy bread. She then piled layers of ripe yellow mango on top of the creamy green and squeezed a lemon slice over her creation.

The whole time, Jin was just openly staring at her face with rapt amazement. His mind was shutting down and his body was just consumed.

Consumed by her.

Consumed by everything.

So pretty.

"Here!" She raised the bread and he took it quickly from her stammering his thanks. A waft of sweet feminine fragrance spilt from her as he stepped close to her body to take the slice. It took everything for him to not just bury his head into her neck and inhale.

HELP.HELP.HELP.

"Don't drink coffee on an empty stomach. You could get indigestion!" She chided softly.

"Y-you were looking at me?" Jin blushed. Oh, did she notice him staring?

"It's hard not to notice when you're wearing sunglasses and a mask indoors."

"Ah..."

"Oh no, but I don't judge! You must be—" Jin flinched. Did she know who he was? "—sick?"

Yes, he was sick. Sick with desire.

"Get well soon!" She blushed prettily. The colour dusted over her cheeks, a faint pink glow that reminded Jin of cotton candy. His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he flinched. Crap. That must be his manager.

"I have to go...Thank You."

"No problem, um...Good luck for today!"

Did she know? At this point, Jin wasn't sure if his cover was blown or not but his heart swelled with a weird warmth that he couldn't understand.

"Y-You too!"

It was later in the van to the venue that he got scolded by his manager. Even though they insisted that he threw the bread away, he refused and ate the whole thing in one bite before the other members could steal it from him.

It was good.

The juicy tart mango cut through the richness of the avocado and the juiciness complimented the creaminess well. The lemon kept the sweetness in check, turning it into a sophisticated flavour that just made him yearn for more.

His expression must have shown how good it tasted because his members were glaring daggers at him for not sharing.

It was later at the venue that he stayed in the bathroom for way too long to be normal. Jin lied and chalked it up to a bad stomach which the other members laughed and teased at him for. They told him it served him right for eating the bread.

Jin would never admit that he had been jerking off to the memory of the girl in the restaurant. He masturbated twice and came so hard that his semen had spilt all over the floor. It took him a while to wipe the gunk up before he exited the bathroom. 

He was never telling his best friends.

He was taking that secret to the grave.

Chapter 4

Amber

On her birthday, they ate cake for breakfast.

Amber almost died from embarrassment when the hotel staff played happy birthday over the sound system. It definitely caused a few heads to turn her way to stare incredulously at her. And not in a good way. 

Amber had been very close to standing and bowing to them in apology.

She hadn’t expected the surprise, having already spent the entire morning making mango and avocado toast for herself and the mysterious masked man. 

After that, they were running off to the concert venue. Their hotel was mere minutes from the venue so the two opted for public transport. As expected, the trains were swamped with fangirls accessorized with BTS merchandise and holding light sticks. 

If it was bad on the trains, it was worse at the venue. The minute they had stepped out of the station, they could not move.

Literally.

There were people everywhere from all walks of life, of all kinds of cultures and ethnicities. Amber had never seen so many people in a single area before, not even at DisneyWorld. 

This was more than just packed sardines in a can. This was a can of sardines that a vendor was trying to make into a biscuit and so shoved it into a hydraulic press and pounded it into a flat disk.

Amber shimmied past a group of women screaming excitedly as they waved their light sticks in the air. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around Miri's as they manoeuvred through the sea of fans, STARs to be exact. She didn’t like the group’s name for their fans but she had to agree that it was kind of cute. 

There was no personal space at all and walking involved the brushing of body parts against body parts. It was honestly, the perfect place for pickpockets and Amber gripped tightly on to her wallet in her pocket as they marched through the crowd.

It was kind of awkward holding her ass while shimmying through crowds of people, but Amber couldn't care less at that point.

She winced, jerking back as a fan started to hack violently into the air, spewing whatever germs she had into the surrounding environment. Amber clasped her mouth to her face in an attempt to stop the beads of saliva from spraying across her lips. 

Disgusting. This was also exactly how an epidemic would start. One sneeze, one zombie and a hundred thousand people would end up as carriers of a deadly virus.

Tip of the day: When one wanted to kill the population, start at an BTS concert.

Amber was in a daze. 

There were people lugging suitcases around to carry their BTS official merchandise. There were people selling homemade hair bands and posters on picnic mats. There were lines of people everywhere queuing up for so many different things and girls dressed in thousands of different shades of colours.

As a creative pessimist, Amber found her mind swerving towards the death section as she surveyed the crowd.

She was very sure that if any BTS member walked out to say hi. The whole group would run like a swarm of bees towards the guy. Amber would (of course) trip and fall. She would then be trampled and killed by a mass stampede, like Mufasa versus the herd of wildebeest in Lion King.

A gruesome and very sad death.

Amber pursed her lips as body odour wafted in the air towards her extremely sensitive nose. Her eyes travelled to the sweaty group of males who looked like they ran twenty kilometres to get here. Their shirts, while cute and printed with the faces of the BTS members, were drenched yellow with sweat.

They looked like they had camped here for days. As expected of BTS, the numbers of super crazy fans they had were sky-high. She wrinkled her nose, trying her best to keep her feelings from being too obvious on her face. No offence, but it appeared that not all the males she met in Korea smelled good.

Who would have known?

Amber did not know what to feel at that moment. She was in a dreamy, out of body state where she just could not believe that this was happening. She was pretty much floating about in her mind as Miri dragged her along like a sack of potatoes. Her stomach was fluttering with thousands of butterflies with her excitement. 

Today was the day. The day she could listen to her favourite boy band live. 

They passed through the metal detector, emptying bottles of water and were scanned from head to toe for hidden weapons. She was shaken out of her stupor when Miri screamed for her to run because the sound check event was about to start soon.

Sound check. 

The preparation that took place before a concert performance. It was when the performer and the sound crew would go through a small portion of the upcoming show just to test the venue’s sound system. It wasn’t the actual show, but the company usually allowed for some lucky fans to have the opportunity to watch them practice. 

Miri and Amber were part of this lucky few. 

They were tearing across the stadium towards the doors that led them deep within, heading towards the front of the stage. They were lucky. Extremely so. The numbers on their tickets were so low it was crazy. BigHit Entertainment had given Deok-Su one of the best standing tickets possible. It was number twenty-one and twenty-two in Category One.

In other words, during the actual concert itself, they had first dibs on where they wanted to stand. 

And Miri had the audacity to only tell her that additional information now.

Miri was pulling her to the actual line that snaked into the stadium. They were pushed forward to take their spots at the front, and fans around them were talking and screaming excitedly. Amber's head was swimming. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she could hear her blood rushing in her ears.

She was fidgety, unable to stay in one spot as she danced about on her feet. She'd wrung her fingers a thousand of times as she panicked. Each minute was like an hour to her and she could not stand still.

She was, after all, going to see the people who had pulled her out of the depths of darkness for the first time in her life, in the flesh. They were no longer going to be just 2D material on her phone and she died a little inside not knowing what to expect.

The instant the doors to the main venue cracked open, fans beside her were screaming and crying. Miri held her hand tightly, rubbing comforting circles on her palm as they entered. And when her ticket was scanned, Amber was in.

The stadium was a sight to behold. 

There were so many seats that from where she stood, the specks of pink ran and disappeared into the far distance, melting together in an endless line. It all surrounded the single main stage at the very centre of the stadium.

Ginormous posters with the words: BTS WORLD TOUR, LISTEN TO ME stood proudly next to the two ginormous LCD screens that flanked the sides of the main stage. There were thousands of spotlights flickering and moving over the main stage as staff members tested the light intensity.

The familiar BTS symbol was displayed upon a huge LCD screen at the centre of the stage. And the mist machine was already at work, spewing out vapours of water into the air. The tiny clouds drifted across the stage, reflecting the light of BTS's minimalistic star-like symbol. It turned into a pretty purple-pink hue, similar to the clouds in the sky at dusk.

Like a dream, it was utterly and irrevocably beautiful.

Amber was running, she couldn’t even feel her legs pumping beneath her feet but she knew that she was moving. She was within the standing section in a heartbeat, her fingers wrapped around the railings. Miri was hot on her heels, laughing and talking excitedly behind her. Amber barely registered her words in her head. 

Her emotions were wild. It swirled in her body, taking a hold of her heart and sending it flying in her chest.

The minute BTS stepped out to sing Destiny.

Something changed. 

It was like going underwater. The sound of screaming from the girls around her was somehow muffled in her brain. She was far away, the voices becoming a low squeak at the back of her head.

Just like the sound, all those physical feelings that she had been experiencing—the dehydration, the fear, the excitement, the adrenaline— they washed away in the very next beat of her heart. 

Her mind barely registered the feeling of exhilaration as she stood there watching the seven men step out from the sea of smoke to greet fans.

It felt as if she had dived into the water and now sat at the bottom of the pool, watching the undulations of light on the blue tiles. It felt as if she were listening to the sound of the waves at the beach. It felt as if she were sitting on a patch of grass and just daydreaming while looking at white clouds drift over blue horizons.

Calming, peaceful, tranquillity.

It was weird. The weirdest feeling ever. It was probably what you would describe as the feeling of being high on drugs. And this came from just looking at the boys. They were her marijuana, her cocaine, her drug.

At first, her vision swam with the scene before her, her mind barely able to absorb the information. Then her gaze was travelling across their features, pinpointing the ones that stood out to her the most.

Yoongi and his snow-white skin.

Jimin and his plump pouty lips.

Taehyung and his heart-stopping smile.

Namjoon and his deep, beautiful dimples.

Hoseok and his rainbow shaped eyes.

Jin and his broad angular shoulders.

JungKook and his large doe eyes.

The seven men were beautiful in their own way, exuding a different type of charisma as they spread across the stage. Amber appreciated them for everything, finding beauty even in the little flaws that were once concealed by Photoshop.

She used to see them as otherworldly beings, had placed them on a pedestal that was deemed untouchable and unreachable. Now, with each boy right before her, she was finally able to see the human in them and it made them even more beautiful to her.

Her best analogy would be an oil painting. With a picture, one was incapable of really noticing each brushstroke and raised bump of paint. The hard work and dedication of the artist could only be deciphered when one had the actual physical painting and could then distinguish each stroke and smear of paint.

Amber snapped back to reality as the heavy bass began to play. The vibrations hummed in the air and travelled up her body. It was scary, the way it moved through her internal organs and rested in her heart. However, the minute they began to sing, the bass died down and what played was the mixture of beautiful voices.

Amber pressed her fingers to her lips. Her body was trembling with her exhilaration.

Honey coffee and Sea-salt caramel latte...Americano and Sweet yoghurt coffee...Mocha frappuccino and Matcha latte. Mellifluous with bass, high with low, smooth with gruff. Their voices were blended in harmony, the sounds practically forced goose bumps to pop over her skin.

Amber's mind was blown a thousand times as they stood before her on stage. This was not a radio recorded song that was auto-tuned and perfected thousands of times for the promise of profit. This was them trying their best to sing as well as they could for their fans. This was them putting their heart and soul into each note to impress the people they were singing to. This was them working hard to perform for the people before them.

Amber inhaled sharply, willing back the tears threatening to spill from her watery eyes. She blinked rapidly, smiling as she watched them silently. The girls around her were busy waving madly and screaming trying their best to grab their attention. Some were filming the scene, others were waving their light sticks.

But not Amber.

Amber was happy just watching them right then and there. She watched as Hoseok spun around, holding up his phone to record himself as he sang. It was no doubt for their international fans watching the live stream of the sound check.

He was truly a very handsome male of unconventional beauty. 

There was something about the way those double-lidded eyes stretched upwards into little rainbows that screamed with mischief.

His nose was probably his most discussed feature. Amber called it Peter Pan's nose because it seriously looked exactly like the Disney character's. It was extremely adorable and the way it tilted upwards gave him a naughty air that no other male she had ever met in her life could possibly achieve. It didn't help that he was one of the goofiest of the group which solidified the common assumption that he was the group's clown.

But to Amber, Hoseok was her sun god. 

With those heart-shaped lips and sweet eyes, he had a smile that started from his mouth and consumed his entire being. His smiles were the kind that sent Amber's heart racing in her ribcage, slamming into the prison bars of bone desperate to get out. It was the kind of smile that caused her to lose a few brain cells and melt into a mindless heap at his grin. It was the kind of smile that made her grin involuntarily even when she was really sad. 

With the real-life package standing before her, she was speechless when he moved to her side of the crowd. There was a bright grin on his face as he jumped to the tune, laughing happily. He was breath-taking in his joy and she smiled along with him.

She swore her eyes automatically added a filter over him like a stupid K-Drama rom-com. Her mind blurred out the background, shining ethereal light over his skin and adding in fake sparkles over his body. There was a chorus of angels singing in her head as he stalked up towards her. He stepped forward dangerously close to the edge.

He was so close to her that if Amber had a selfie stick she could technically bump it against his feet.

He began rapping out his lines in smooth flows mixed in with gruff throaty moans. Each sound was controlled.

“Our destiny was written in the stars, you can't deny that I am the answer to your formula ~ ”

His lips were moving so fast, her mind spun in her attempt to understand the Korean. Her breath hitched as he knelt before her, merely a metre from her own body, his eyes scanning the crowd as he rapped into his microphone with ease.

The girls around her were waving frantically, raising light sticks in the air trying in vain to grab his attention. And so it must have been easy to spot the single lone figure in the crowd who was not doing anything except staring and crying.

Their eyes met.

“Like a line that connects the dots in a heart-shaped scribble. This is a string that ties us together ~ ”

It was familiar, his gaze. And her breath hitched when an absolutely breath-taking smile enveloped his entire face. It was spellbinding and knocked the wind from her lungs. He was staring at her so intensely that she could scarcely breathe. A hot full-body shiver ran over her skin from his gaze.

Why?

Why was her heart beating so fast? Her lips parted as he sustained eye contact with her. The microphone covered his lips, concealing his smile. But his eyes slowly lifted, curving into little moons of happiness as the pouches of fat beneath his eyes were emphasised.

He was smiling. He was smiling so much that the corners of his eyes crinkled. Then he slipped the pair of orange sunglasses down from his orange coloured hair to conceal his eyes.

Orange tinted sunglasses that were way too familiar.

More than familiar.

It was—

“When our paths cross once again, I will laugh and tell you that our meeting was destiny. ~ ”

Hoseok.

Her face burned. 

Her skin was flushed, red from her embarrassment and surprise. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. And she watched as he stared back at her, a smirk on his lips as he sang velvet into his microphone. Her breath hitched and her mouth hung open as she gawked at him. 

This was Hoseok from BTS. The same guy who had flirted with her, bought her a drink and then gifted her his jacket because she looked cold. 

Oh God.

Amber's cheeks glowed a bright crimson red as she recalled the events of the previous day. She had returned to her hotel room, taken off the jacket and headed to the toilet, only to give a small scream of pure mortification. She now knew the reason for his statue-like state when he had looked at her in the convenience store.

Her nipples had been showing.

The cold liquid down her front had not only resulted in her tits becoming extra perky. The dark liquid stain had also made the outfit cling to her chest. It made each defined bump even more obvious, pressing tightly onto her body like a damned second skin. 

In the light of that horrendously bright convenience store, it was definitely see-through. She was practically naked and had essentially flashed him. 

Suffice to say she was very embarrassed and also very thankful for his actions. Instead of pointing it out bluntly, Hoseok had been a gentleman about it, gifting her his jacket. However, things were very different now that she knew that guy was more than just a funny, attractive stranger at her hotel.

The Olive at the elevator was trying to say 'Hoseok'. The same Hoseok that was the main dancer in her favourite boy band. The Hoseok that had plagued her dreams along with the other members in the team for the past few weeks. She swallowed thickly. 

Last night had been an accomplishment. Instead of dreams of BTS, her mind had given her dreams of the orange stranger worshipping her breasts with his tongue. She had woken up, horny and bothered, but happy because her wet dream did not feature BTS members. 

Things were different now that she knew who he was. 

"You and I were never a coincidence or a trick of fate. We were always meant for each other. ~ "

His verse ended and Taehyung took over, belting out the rest of the song in a sweet low baritone, his voice like a stream of viscous honey. Normally, Amber would take the cue to look at the next singer but not now.

She simply could not take her eyes off Hoseok. 

Amber watched as Hoseok pulled the mic away from his lips to swing his legs over the edge of the stage. He took a seat before her, kicking his feet out excitedly as he bounced happily on the ledge. And Amber was reminded of how he had bounced on his feet the night before. 

How had she not known?

He pulled off his glasses, running his long fingers through his hair. And at that moment, with the white glow of the spotlight touching his skin and brushing against his beautiful features, he looked like a sun god ready to give her his eternal judgement. She licked her lips. She had never felt more exposed, more naked at the sight of him. She was aware of her steady exhales, of the rub of chiffon over her skin, of the delicious press of her jeans at the apex of her thighs—He tilted his head to the side and smiled at her cutely.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart drumming sharply on her ribcage.

He gestured to her.

W-What? She blinked as he grinned brightly, revealing white pearly teeth that sparkled under the light. He signalled to her again. She furrowed her brows in her confusion. Raise her hand out? She reached out and he smiled. She swore he mouthed the word 'catch' in Korean and he swung his glasses towards her.

For a brief second, Amber panicked. It was flying glasses versus clumsy girl and the chance of her catching the accessory was near zero. Holy shit. The bright shade of orange cut across the air in slow motion and Amber screamed in her mind. Oh God, what if she drops them and they shatter? God, please let her catch them-

Amber caught them.

The sunglasses rested at the tips of her fingers and she pulled them into a firm grip, holding them tightly to her chest. She stared as Hoseok clapped good-naturedly. He was so good looking in that yellow-blue hoodie, that her heart wept at her luck. Her heart was pounding, she could feel it all over her body, all the way to her core. 

'Give it to me when we meet again.' He mouthed. The guy stood, blowing her a smooth air kiss, before prancing back to stand with Taehyung to continue with his next line. 

What the hell had just happened? She gaped at him. The pair of glasses was cold in her hands and Amber clasped it tightly to her chest as she stared at the rapper. Her eyes could not leave Hoseok’s frame. At this point, she was confused as hell and desperately trying to connect the dots between orange guy and Hoseok. She was also mildly freaking out over the shit she had said to her idol.

Recap:  I choke on my saliva all the time. It's my hobby. A talent. 

Amber slapped her palms onto her blushing cheeks. She bent her head down to scream soundlessly, squeezing her eyes shut in absolute remorse. She had called that hot specimen of a human being a damn uncle!

He was twenty-five and she called him an uncle! 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

An uncle!

She had flirted with him, flashed him her nips and then insulted him with the damned U word. She blanched at the thought, blood draining her face. It was that one word she should not be using on someone as good-looking and as young as Jung Hoseok. Amber groaned, feeling second-hand embarrassment for her past self.

The audacity of that stupid 12 AM Amber!

Her mind was going haywire. How the hell had she not known that the stranger in the hotel was Jung Hoseok? Her? The fan who prided herself in being able to recognise the voice of every member in each song. Even the ad libs and background vocals. She listened to their voices on repeat and Hoseok had sung an entire damn line to her!

That line from that song had been the answer to the million dollar question. The answer had been served on a silver platter to her ignorant head. But like an ostrich with its head stuck in the sand, she had blatantly ignored all the answers that screamed in her face.

With two lucky encounters, Amber was starting to wonder exactly what she had done in her past life that made her so lucky, and yet, so unlucky at the same damn time. She must have saved a famous hero's life but later farted in his face, or something along those lines.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

She slapped a hand to her forehead. Maybe the fact that she had not recognised Hoseok was for the better. After all she had told herself that she was just here to get rid of her obsession over them. She was here to say goodbye. 

The orange sunglasses were just a souvenir. She nodded to herself. That’s right. Just a souvenir. She was here to just enjoy her last days of singlehood. When she finally raised her head to look at her idols after that long mental monologue, it was to the sight of Jin.

The beauty god of BTS. 

In BTS, Jin was that one member with looks that triumphed over the common folk. He was attractive, too attractive. He had the sort of face that one would see plastered all over Vogue, Elle and Harper’s Bazaar. 

Decked in pre-concert attire, worn-out jeans and a simple grey hoodie, Jin had a face of extreme symmetry. His nose, his brow, his deep set eyes and his plump lips were all perfect. It was as if God had used a ruler to measure the length of each detail before He sent him into the world. 

Jin’s almost otherworldly beauty made it easy for Amber to distinguish the clear line between her and her idols. She simply had to place him on a pedestal meant for works of art in her mind. 

It was the same way as how she categorised nude models in her mind during live drawing classes. It made her detached. It made her indifferent.  Amber looked at him with an artistic eye, her gaze drawing over him, and the heat in her body vanished immediately.

Her eyes darted towards the larger screen, distracted by the sudden flash of beige. The camera had zoomed in to Jin’s face as he started singing. The screen lit up, each tiny pixel emphasising on his features.

Even when zoomed in, Jin was absolutely flawless. It was definitely not the power of makeup because with the other members, traces of scars and the little imperfections could be seen when they were filmed up close. 

Jin's skin, however, was smooth and creamy. It was like a dollop of white moisturizer in its pot, with the tiniest of pores and absolutely no hints of old adolescent scars. It was so damn unfair, how men could look so beautiful, when they didn’t really need it. 

Then that beautiful face on the screen contorted into an odd expression.

Amber snapped out of her thoughts when the screen displayed a Jin who had visibly flinched. His eyes widened, growing twice their size from the original hooded, sexual expression he had on for his fans. 

She watched transfixed as he brushed long slender fingers against a parted swollen bottom lip as he exhaled shakily. His eyes softening into a tender, wanting look. Amber could almost see the phantom puff of warm air from the satin pink of those lumps of muscle.

Almost.

God. Amber exhaled, blowing at her fringe. He was so, so, so pretty. Puberty had hit him like a makeup artist with a whole bag of Sephora products. Seriously, this man was absolutely beautiful. Whoever married him in the future would birth equally beautiful children no matter how unattractive they were.

He was an automatic +100 points to the gene pool.

Although this beautiful being was currently looking extremely spooked.

She watched as a remarkably odd expression bloomed across his features. Pink tinged at the edges of his earlobes and scattered across his skin, colouring spans of pale beige into a pretty rose. 

This was the same expression as the one he had when he looked at food. But this expression was raw and needy in ways that made her chest squeeze tightly. It was filled with something that she couldn’t pinpoint, an emotion that made her heart skip a quivering beat.

She turned away from the screen opting to look at him in real life instead, curious to see what had him so spooked. She was startled by how close he was to her side of the stage. He was literally at the edge, right at Hoseok's spot.

And she swore he was looking right at her. Her heart lurched at the thought, pounding hard in her chest. She thought she met his eyes. Did she? She scrutinised those beautiful almond orbs, her black eyes searching his gold ringed ones. She was pretty sure she did, unless he was looking at the fan pressed right against her—

He winked. It was so quick and nothing else moved except his eyes which made it seem like a trick of the light. And the action made her press her fingers to her lips in her shock as she openly gawked at him. His wink had sent a burst of heat through her and exhilaration tingled across her skin. Her eyes widened at the very next second because—

—He was blushing. His skin was so red that the foundation on his face could barely conceal the colour. It exploded across his features, the original soft pink hue turning into a darker shade of red that spread down to his neck.

Amber mentally reasoned that maybe he was sick or flustered from dancing too much. Her excuses were dashed when the man himself hid his face behind large hands in his embarrassment. He stumbled back adorably, his pretty eyes watering just a little. 

His expression mirrored her own when Hoseok had revealed his true identity and it was the classic body language of 'help, I'm embarrassed and shy'. Then his eyes were darting back to hers, light gold eyes meeting her own black ones. And he just escaped, running frantically to Jimin in a cute little jog. 

The taller male pressed his face into the younger man's shoulder and from afar she could see his lips moving quickly as he explained his predicament to the junior member. The posture revealed the redness of his neck and the tips of his ears, both not covered by the foundation. 

They were the same pretty pink colour of her marker in cadmium red and the shade reminded Amber of bouquets of roses. His neck had traces of lightly bulging veins that indicated the extent of his embarrassment and the stress he was placing on his body.

She watched perplexed as his eyes darted over to look at her again and like a blushing school girl he looked away quickly to stare in the opposite direction. Jimin was laughing at whatever the hell he said and he was patting the older male, his beautiful eyes curving into pretty little moons of happiness.

Amber was now even more confused. Was he feeling second-hand embarrassment from the wink? Her brows furrowed as she moved into a thinking position, tapping her chin with her fingers. But, Jin always winked! That man loved attention and probably had a praise-kink. He basked in attention, he enjoyed making his fans flustered. He was used to this!

She didn’t understand why he was blushing now. Hell, he'd been doing this for years. He'd blown kisses to hundreds, winked to thousands and thrusted his damned hips to millions. She was pretty sure he'd also moaned and made sexy voices on reality shows for his fans too.

Plus, he was the oldest in the group. He had probably already met his soulmate, a soulmate that his agency didn't want to reveal. Had probably already fucked her thousands of times, so it seriously didn't make any sense—

"I swear!" Miri was shouting in her ear and Amber winced at the sound. She stumbled back to look at her best friend who was grinning from ear to ear. "He was totally looking at you the whole time!” 

Miri gripped onto Amber’s shoulders, shaking her violently. She looked like a maniac, the way her smile spread across her face eerily. “What the hell? FIRST HOSEOK THEN JIN?"

Oh.

Oh shit.

*

Amber left sound check feeling perplexed but yet weirdly overjoyed. Her body felt as if it had been pumped full of caffeine and whenever she just thought about her first sound check experience, a goofy grin spread across her face. She tried to lump it to having finally heard BTS live for the first time but really it was more than that.

The short video of her catching Hoseok's sunglasses was trending on Twitter. A fan had secretly filmed their interactions despite the no-phones-during-sound check rule. Thankfully, Amber’s face was obscured by the screaming girls beside her, and the video was angled such that the words on Hoseok's lips were unreadable.

Thank God for that. 

Amber didn't know how the fans would react if they had seen him say 'give it to me later'. The number of theories that would pop up after that would definitely be as explosive as a whole pot of corn in a popcorn machine. 

Someone had also taken a video of Jin's blush through a crack in the door from outside the venue. Using a superzoom camera, the person had managed to capture the whole 'blush-wink-blush-run' thing that he did. Another fan had filmed the Jimin and Jin exchange resulting in a whole bunch of hashtags like #MinJin and #HikaJae trending on social media.

Honestly, she would have gushed over that video if she had not known the context to it. Amber chewed on her lips at that thought. Miri had been very serious about her claims. She had solemnly sworn on their friendship that Jin had been looking at her. Amber had debated over and over again with Miri of the possibilities of that.

How could he have blushed so vividly under her gaze? It was impossible. Hell, she wasn't some kind of succubus or an insanely famous model. She wasn’t that pretty. Amber was just plain old Amber and there was no way he could have reacted so violently to just her face. She rubbed her cheeks gingerly, furrowing her brows. 

Miri had then asked, are you secretly a porn actress on PornHub or something? To which Amber had spluttered and choked on her saliva, after screaming a flustered NO! Choking on saliva might truly be her hobby at the rate she was going.

Nonetheless, Miri's words got her really thinking. Did she look like a porn actress he liked? She nibbled on her lips, chewing at the flesh. That would make a lot more sense. Or did she look like his ex? She winced at the thought. Maybe not his ex. That would not explain the blush. 

Watching the two videos again had sent her heart racing into speeds that she was so sure would send her into cardiac arrest. And those sunglasses Hoseok had given her? That shit was GUCCI.

G.U.C.C.I.

Hell, they cost more than her entire net worth and she trembled just holding on to them. The brand name and the serial numbers carved into the inside of the temples of the sunglasses seemed to taunt her.

Now she was afraid to look at the camo jacket sitting in the hotel room. It was definitely from some luxury brand with prices that could feed thousands of families for a month. And she had no clue how she was going to return those things to Hoseok. Either way, Amber was very sure that she would have them vacuum packed and sealed for protection the second she got home.

They were currently sitting in the queue waiting for the actual concert to start, and Miri was busy video calling Deok-Su to update him on the current situation. Amber didn't want to eavesdrop on the English conversation as the only other fluent English speaker in the two-metre radius of fans sitting beside them. 

She opted to head out in search of a water cooler to refill their empty bottles. She had a pretty shitty sense of direction so she found herself wandering around the stadium a few minutes later.

Amber frowned, perturbed. The toilets were directly linked to the exterior of the stadium hence the large metal bars preventing access. That explained the presence of the portable restrooms.

But water coolers were usually located in the toilets, right? Where the hell were the portable water coolers? 

She turned the corner, moving to an area that was much more secluded, intending to ask one of the staff members for directions, only to be stopped by a forceful pull on her arm. She twisted around, inhaling sharply as pointed fingernails dug into her skin and large sweaty palms clamped onto her arm.

Ow! That hurts! 

Her eyes drifted upwards meeting that of a girl with a rather fierce and determined expression. The stranger was panting and she looked as if she had run a mile just to catch up to her. Amber was startled by the sudden intimacy as the girl leaned in closer, invading her personal space. What the hell? 

"Give...me," the girl stated slowly, her tongue sloppily curling over the English words. She was clearly an infrequent user of the English language and it took Amber a while to decipher her choppy rendition of the language.

Amber swallowed nervously, her eyes trailing over the girl's face, brushing across the huge pom-pom earrings and the jewelled choker on her neck. She was immaculately dressed—her hair was swept into a high ponytail and her makeup was impeccable even if it did lean towards the heavy side. She would have looked delicate and pretty if not for the sharp glint in her eyes and the ugly expression on her face.

"Sorry? Please let go of me," Amber replied in fluent Korean an attempt to better converse with the girl. Perhaps she was a local Korean? She looked the part with snowy white skin and flatter, softer facial features. 

"I'll pay.” The girl snapped back in Korean. “GUCCI right? I'll pay two times the market price." Amber's eyes widened at her words. Her mind immediately linked to the sunglasses Hoseok had given her.

Shit. She was talking about the glasses! Amber frowned, trying to wrench her hand out of her death grip. But the girl refused to let go of her arm. Her long manicured nails were piercing sharply into Amber’s flesh and forming indents on her skin. 

"Sorry. I can't." Amber swallowed thinking back to Hoseok's words. 

He did specifically tell her that he would be wanting them back. And while Amber knew that the odds of her meeting him again were close to zero, she would respect his wishes. They were not her glasses after all. How could she sell them? The girl pulled tightly at her arm, breathing hard and fast, her nostrils flaring. 

"One million won? (US$843)" She suggested eagerly. Amber's expression must have said it all because she licked her lips, raising the price quickly. "Two million won? (US$1,686)" 

Amber faltered. What in the world? That was five times the original price! Her eyes drifted to the fan’s clothes, lingering on the Louis Vuitton print label at the edge of her collar. The stranger appeared to be very serious about paying her for the sunglasses. Very, very serious. Amber swallowed thickly, her resolve starting to waver as she persisted.

"I'm sorry, it's not for sale. Please, let me go," Amber shook her head, tugging at her arm. Selling it would be like selling Hoseok’s kindness to a stranger. She did not want to sell it to her only for Hoseok to find it on Amazon for US$5000. That would be embarrassing. The stranger must have seen the resolution on her face because she changed her tactic, giving her a pitiful expression.

"Please, I really need it." Desperation clung to her words, her voice sticky and disgustingly sweet. "Hoseok is my everything," the stranger explained, a fond almost crazed smile on her lips. "I love him to death and without those sunglasses, I will, literally, die." The girl pleaded. 

The sheer amount of desperation in her every word was shocking to Amber. The way she begged made it seem as if they were fighting for something much more precious than a piece of metal. 

She felt a little shaken at the way the stranger implored her to give up the glasses. But, this was no desert and what the girl wanted was not a sip of water. This was just a pair of sunglasses that Amber could not give her.

"I'm really sorry, but I've already promised to return this..." Amber's voice trailed off into a whisper as she watched the girl before her grow increasingly hostile.

The girl growled, her eyes turning wild and crazy with her annoyance. Her pupils were darting all over Amber's face as she ground her teeth together. She dug her manicured nails into Amber's skin harshly tearing into her flesh. 

Amber yelped, watching wide-eyed as the girl loomed over her. Her shoulders were heaving with each laboured breath. What the fuck? 

"GIVE IT TO ME!" She shrieked, her beautiful face contorting into a demonic expression as she screamed into Amber's face.

 Her rancid breath was fanning across her face and bits of spittle spewed from her painted lips. Amber trembled as she watched the girl with wide eyes, having never seen such an unreasonable person in her life.

She was definitely a crazy, obsessive fan; Amber realised, seriously regretting walking to the secluded area. She had heard of fans buying pee off eBay that was claimed to be that of a singer’s. Heard of fans that kidnapped their idols. Fans that stalked idols in airplanes. Fans that sold personal information of the idols. Obsessive fans did anything and everything to get closer to their idols. There was simply no reasoning with them.

Shit. Was this what BTS had to face each day?

“Could you please let go of me?” Amber asked, her voice steady despite her quickening heartbeat.

“Give it to me!” 

“Let go of me!” 

The girl raised her hand, her eyes flashing with her irritation. Amber grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut as she moved to brace herself for the attack. Shit! 

"Excuse me!" Amber turned to see an older woman march up towards them in quick strides. "Please stop this. I will be reporting you to the police if you continue to harass this girl!" The crazy fan visibly froze, letting go of Amber's hand and taking a wide step back.

The sudden release of pressure was painful and Amber exhaled, raising her arm to inspect the damage. There was a circle of deep red on her skin, along with moon-shaped wounds from the stranger’s fingernails. She gently prodded the redness and winced.

Bad move. Amber cursed under her breath as pain spread across her skin. That was definitely going to bruise. Her body had muted the feelings of pain in her moment of fear. And now with the protection from her saviour, she was starting to feel the pain in its entirety.

The older woman approached her, murmuring words of pity as she dabbed at her wounds with an alcohol cotton swab. The older lady turned to glare daggers at the fan, her eyes narrowed into slits. 

If looks could kill, Amber swore that the fan would be shot by a rifle gun, bombed by a landmine and shot with a missile from her saviour's glare alone.

"Shame on you!" The woman spat out hotly. "Hurting others when you can't get what you want? Shame on you!"

"Aunty...I just wanted—" The fan tried to reason with her, looking embarrassed.”—the glasses. I-it's Hoseok’s glasses.”

"Excuses. Go away before I call the cops!" The woman barked, wagging a finger at her. The girl faltered, eyes darting towards Amber and a chill ran up her spine as the fan gave her a dark glare. Shit. 

"I am not afraid of risking my ticket to get you out of here, young lady!" The older woman stated pointedly, stepping up to the fan. The girl stumbled back. “Go!” Amber watched as she dashed away without looking back.

Good riddance. The woman turned to look at her with pitiful eyes. "Are you alright dear? Oh no, if only we had some ice to get rid of the bruising." The lady fussed over her, dabbing at her skin quickly. "She was such a rude girl!” She clucked her tongue shaking her head in a motherly fashion. 

"Thank you ma'am?" Amber fumbled a little trying to switch her Korean to the more polite and formal variation of the language. "Without your help, I would not have known what to do to get her to leave. Thank you so much." She bowed deeply with respect for her hero. 

"It's alright. Please get up.” The lady rubbed her shoulders gently. “I'm assuming you were looking for water as well?" The woman smiled kindly at her and Amber was taken aback by how good she looked. 

The older lady was beautiful. She was a classic Korean beauty with huge doe-shaped eyes framed by thick lashes. She'd aged gracefully and had pretty wrinkles at the corners of her eyes—an indication of a lifetime of constant laughter. And her skin was barely affected by her age remaining perky and bright, very unlike that of her peers. 

The woman looked thirty-five, but Amber reckoned the woman was above fourty. The way she talked to her spoke volumes of her actual age, indicating that she might have a child that was about Amber’s age. 

"Oh yes," Amber nodded, replying to the lady's question. 

The lady spoke. "I've checked the entire section here. It's really quite unfortunate but the nearest one on this side of the stadium is not working. Perhaps, we should head towards the other direction?" The woman gestured towards the direction Amber came from.

"Oh? That’s too bad. Alright!" Amber nodded as she led the way to the other direction. 

As they walked, Amber couldn’t help observing the sweet lady beside her. With her hair in a classy bob, she was dressed impeccably in a cadmium yellow coat, a cotton long-sleeve and ripped jeans. Her fashion choice deleted years from her age, making her look younger than she probably was.

"That coat looks so good on you!" Amber said. "Where did you get it?"

Tip of the day: Praise women for things they could change.

"My son bought it for me.” The woman blushed prettily, her face lighting up at the mention of her son. “I'm not too sure where he bought it, the rascal never tells me anything. But it’s pretty, isn't it?" 

So cute. Amber swooned in her mind. Her son was clearly old enough to purchase clothes for his mom. At this point, Amber was sure that the pretty woman before her must be in her mid-forties.

"Wow, he has a good eye! It's a really happy colour and it makes you look young!"

"Aw, you're just being sweet dear."

"Oh no, I'm not kidding. I have clothes in a similar shade.” Amber swiped through her phone, showing the woman a picture of her outfit at the art museum. Yes, that accursed art museum. 

"This art museum?" The woman gasped, recognition fluttering through her eyes.

"Do you go to this museum too, ma'am?" 

"Why, yes I do.” The sweet lady nodded. “They sell jewellery that I just love to buy in support of the local artists."

"Me too!" Amber beamed brightly at her. She couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of the older woman. The older lady's soft hazel eyes seemed to glow with motherly affection and it made Amber feel safe and secured. 

Amber now understood why princesses married the princes who saved them. She just couldn’t help but see her saviour in a holy golden light and the more the woman talked the more she liked her. 

Amber paused to pull out her purse from her tote bag, fishing inside of it for the jewellery. The earrings consisted of two resin plates that were reminiscent of the moon. Along each plate was a golden line that cut across the smooth resin in webs of brilliant shimmery gold. 

Honestly, she had wanted to give the pair to Miri at the end of the concert. But she needed to reward her saviour in some way. Amber would just have to get Miri something else. 

"Oh my! That's so beautiful!" The lady gasped, marvelling at the earrings.

"They’re such a work of art aren’t they?" Amber nodded in agreement. "I just visited the art museum a few days ago and came across these from a new seller." 

She glanced at the older woman and watched as the lady's gaze grew warm with longing. Her eyes were twinkling as she cooed over the earrings. 

"Do you want them, ma'am?"

"Huh?" The woman froze in shock, looking a little sheepish. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly." The lady shook her head frantically, waving her hands.

"Please take them," Amber smiled. "I really can't thank you enough for your help."

Honestly, if not for this woman Amber would have been absolutely fucked. Goodwill should always be rewarded. Plus, Amber was sure the woman would look lovely with these earrings. 

"Ah, no-"

"Please, I insist. They’re yours." 

Amber placed the works of art in the older woman's palm firmly and smiled. The lady laughed and took the earrings from her gently, murmuring her thanks as she marvelled at their design. She raised them into the air, letting the light of the sun filter through the translucent plates.

"They are really so pretty. Perhaps I'll wear them now." She said, unclipping her simple gold studs and replacing them with the new earrings. They really did suit her. The earrings seemed to enhance the elegance she already exuded, adding on to her attractive features. 

"They look so good on you!” Amber gushed. “Should I take a photo for you?"

"Yes please!" The woman nodded and passed over her phone. 

Amber snapped a few quick pictures, making it a point to take her photos at flattering angles. They both peered at the snapshots and the woman gushed over them with her approval. She then swiped out of the gallery application to check the time. Amber’s breath hitched as JungKook's face winked back at her cheerily. Oh, the older lady was a fan of JungKook.     

"Oh?" Amber smiled at the sight of the BTS member. "Is JungKook your favourite member?" The woman was startled and glanced at her in confusion. Amber gestured to her phone.

"I do love him the most. That is for sure," she replied with a quick nod, looking fondly at the picture. Amber leaned in to gaze at the photograph, whistling appreciatively at the fantastic image. 

It was beautiful. 

JungKook was giggling so hard that laughing wrinkles had formed at the corners of his eyes. They tilted upwards in adorable little creases of skin. It was just enough to indicate his joy but not enough to make him look older than he was. 

His nose was all scrunched up in an adorable wrinkle with his mouth open to reveal a set of pearly white teeth, alluding to loud barks of laughter. It was an extremely happy, high definition photograph of him, which was something very unlike the usual images of the man.

His photos from concerts commonly consisted of highly sexual poses. He was always portrayed as a confident, sexy man with eyes that brimmed with deep, dark heat as he grinded his hips to the music. It had also led to—Amber inhaled sharply at the thought—many fans creating social media accounts dedicated to his bulge.

Amber mentally groaned. But she guessed this was what happened when one thrusted one’s hips in front of a million fans repeatedly in skinny jeans. His cock was worshipped by many of his fans. And there were thousands of thousands of images of the sinful swell of his hard appendage between his muscular thighs. 

This picture was nothing like that. Aside from the delirious happiness in this photograph, there was a softness to those large doe eyes. A softness that she was not used to seeing and her heart warmed at the sight.

Cute.

"That picture's beautiful," Amber murmured. "He’s amazing."

"Hmm? What do you like about him?" The lady asked curiously.

"Um," Amber hummed softly, tapping her chin, deep in thought. She turned to smile at the woman. "His determination."

"Not his face huh?" The older woman looked genuinely shocked at her reply. Was that all you liked about JungKook, lady? A smirk flickered over her lips at her words. 

"Oh no. Sorry,” Amber hummed softly to herself, trying to find the right words to say. "He's dreamed about this—"Amber waved her arms at the stadium. "—for so long and even though he's achieved so much. He's still fighting so hard every day." 

Amber laughed fondly. "I dance a bit as a pastime and I can tell that he works really hard for his fans! Going way past his limits."

She gave the woman a cheeky smile and an exasperated little shake of her head for good measure. "Sometimes I wish I could tell him to take care of himself." Amber fibbed an angry face, wagging her finger in the air comically as she spoke. “JungKook, could you just drink some water and get some rest for 5 minutes? Sit the hell down! The fans wouldn’t mind if you take a little break."

"That's what I tell him all the time!"

"Huh?" Amber raised a brow. 

"F-Fan meets. I've met him a few times." The lady nodded jerkily.

"That explains the really good picture."

The woman grinned. "That was a good answer dear. I rarely hear that from his younger fans." Amber gave her a breathy laugh in response. 

"They usually swoon about his good looks, don't they?"

"Yes...It's always the same answer: JungKook is so handsome."

"Of course he is,” Amber shrugged. “He's got good genes, his Mom must be exceptionally beautiful."

"Oh!" The woman coughed, clearing her throat. "Y-you think so?"

"AMBER! GET YOUR ASS HERE! We’re entering soon!" Miri's voice interrupted their chatter and Amber glanced up to see her best friend waving to her. Oh...Shit. She swallowed thickly, licking her parched lips. They needed the water if they wanted to survive this. 

She spotted a staff member at the other line selling bottled water from a large cardboard box. Amber nodded to her hero politely and sprinted quickly towards the staff member. She paid for two bottles cutting back into the line to stand beside Miri. 

"Damn girl. What happened?" Miri raised a brow at her. Amber sighed, pressing her hand to the stitch forming at her side. 

"God, I'm really unlucky today. The water cooler down that aisle was broken and I met a—"

"Miss! You're in front of me?" Amber turned to see the same older woman smiling at her. 

"Oh! Hello!" Amber grinned, waving at her, bowing politely to her saviour. Oh, the woman was looking for water too. She glanced at the bottles in her hands. One less wouldn't hurt. "You didn't get a bottle of water, right? Do you want this one?" 

"Are you sure? Hold on let me get the money to pay you," the woman fumbled in her wallet and groaned as she pulled out large bills. "Do you have enough change?" 

Amber fished around in her wallet, coming up short. Shit. She turned to look at Miri who shook her head and flashed her, her credit card. Damn. Amber made a face at her BFF before turning to smile at the older lady.

"It's okay. Please just take it.”

"You sure?"

"I insist!"

"Oh, thank you so much." The woman bowed and Amber blushed, bowing quickly while they walked through the lines. It was a weird half bow that consisted of an awkward jerk of her hips. Before she knew it, she was in the stadium again, ready to watch the concert.

*

It was sweltering hot.

Despite the temperature being cool enough to warrant the use of a jacket, the masses of bodies clamped together, generated a bubble of collective body heat that burned the air. 

When seated, she felt almost claustrophobic just looking at the sea of legs surrounding her like a jail cell. There were way too many people around them. And the closeness of their pressed bodies created a stuffy, stale warmth that made Amber gag a little.

There was just no fresh air coming in from any direction. She was plastered to the railings, once again, close to the stage due to her low numbered ticket. They were not next to the main stage as they had been before.

They were now close to the large diamond-shaped platform at the very centre of the stadium. From online videos, Amber knew that this would be where the BTS members would perform for the second half of their show.

Amber took another sip from her bottled water. Honestly, she should have rationed it seeing that it was a few minutes before the start of their three-hour show and she was down to the last mouth full. 

Beside her, the older woman gave her a small smile, cooling herself down with a pretty Japanese fan. Miri was furiously texting Deok-Su glancing at Amber every now and then with weirdly overexcited expressions. She looked like a fangirl with her flared nostrils, reddening cheeks, and a grin that spread across her face,

Amber scoffed, shaking her head slightly.

She was very sure that Miri was updating Deok-Su on her meetings with the BTS members, possibly coming up with theories of her future with them. Oh, that reminded her...Amber tapped on Miri's hand and the girl glanced up at her.

"If I get a body exchange, please do not scare off my soulmate." Amber looked at her pointedly.

"Yeah, of course." Miri nodded, putting down her phone to give Amber a serious look. "I'm more concerned with communication. What if our pal doesn't speak English? What do I say then?"

"Wave? Speak in every language you know?" Amber shrugged. 70% of communication was non-verbal, and she was sure that Miri would do just fine. 

"With your multilingual status, maybe fate will play a joke on you.” Miri teased, shoving her lightly. “She might give you a soulmate who does not speak any one of the languages that you know. Like Thai?"

"Twenty percent of the world's population speaks English.” Amber told her with a snort. “I'm counting on that."

"Sounds like a plan." Miri acknowledged with a grin. "I think I'm ready." Miri placed her fists on her hips and gave her a superman pose which elicited a giggle from Amber's lips.

"I trust you, BFF."

Miri sniffed, rubbing her nose and she smiled. "Just don't panic if you find yourself in a weird situation. But honestly, the tame and normal ones are the scariest."

"What do you mean?"

Miri flourished her hands. “Imagine, appearing in his body while he is peeing."

"Holy fuc—"

"Exactly my point. Appearing in his body while he’s shitting is actually way better than when he’s peeing because at least it feels the same."

"In that case, what if he’s jerking off—" Amber stopped herself before she continued, her cheeks reddening at the thought. That would be wild. She swallowed thickly, feeling afraid for what was yet to come. 

"If that happens, count yourself lucky," Miri waggled her brows. "Not many get to experience the pleasures of both human bodies. I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like having a penis.” She hummed, tapping her chin. “Do you think it feels weird if you swing it about like a helicopter—”

"God, no. Please."

Miri threw back her head and laughed. "Enjoy it while it lasts. It might just be a tame little first-word tattoo. That'd be nice." 

It would be nice. Amber had to agree with her best friend that tattoo soulmate bonds were the cutest. That was unless one’s first-words were something nobody wanted tattooed to their skin forever. Like, you have a fat ass, or, I love penis. She’d heard of both horror stories from her friends. 

Their conversation was interrupted by screams that erupted from the fans and Amber craned her neck for a look only to be highly disappointed. She sighed, shaking her head. 

They were currently playing all of BTS’s music videos on the screens before the concert began. The fans would scream whenever they saw their idols and it piqued her interest each time. She would turn her head over, hoping to see her real-life idols on stage, only to be disappointed.

Not that she hated listening to the music videos via the amazing sound system. 

Amber softly hummed to the tunes as she swiped through her messages. Her parents had texted her. Her father had sent her an entire document on what to do if stranded in a foreign country, and her mother had emailed her the entire list of soul bonds from A-Z.

Amber was pretty sure that she knew them all by heart. It was a perk of being the daughter of a soul bond researcher after all. And reading them now sent a jolt of fear through her heart which did not pair well with the exhilaration she felt for the concert.

The soul bond was spontaneous and unpredictable. She was afraid of what was yet to come and the thought of being placed in a situation outside of her comfort zone made her chest burn with anxiety and her stomach churn with her nerves. 

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation.” She glanced up to look at the older lady who had scooted over to speak. “Your friend said it is your birthday?" 

"Oh yeah!" Amber nodded. "It is! At about,” she furrowed her brows, tilting her head, “10:30 PM?" Give or take. She wasn’t that sure of her exact time of birth. 

"Happy birthday dear.” The lady clapped her hands together cheerily. “How exciting! It’s directly after the concert!” 

“Thank you.” Amber smiled, although the grin that spread across her cheeks was forced. She didn’t want to think about her birthday or her soulmate. It was the next chapter in her new life. And for now? She just wanted to live in the present. 

“How are you feeling?" 

Amber sighed.

"Horrible.” Like shit. 

"Don't worry, fate will work things out for you.” The lady smiled warmly. “My husband and I had a dream meeting soul bond. We first met in our sleep on the night of his birthday."

"Your husband is younger than you?"

"Yes, he's younger than me by about six years." The older lady sighed softly, drumming her fingers on her thighs. Her eyes were far away in the past, and she was deep in thought. "I had to wait for a while, I was quite convinced that I would live the rest of my years alone."  

"Oh," Amber gave her a pained smile. Waiting six years for one’s soulmate was very rare. Six years was pretty much unheard of. The world statistics for that would be like one in ten million people. "What about your son?" Amber asked, attempting to change the subject to a happier one.

"His soulmate appears to be younger than him." The older woman shook her head sadly. “We should have done something else instead of the party. Something like what you’re doing right now.” The woman glanced up, pain flickering in her eyes. 

Oh shit. Amber pursed her lips together, not knowing what to say. One’s 20th birthday was usually a cause for celebration. Simply because it was very, very rare for one to not receive their soul bond on their birthday.

It was such a rare phenomenon that usually people would go all out when it came to their 20th birthday. Amber winced. Her parents had offered to do so for her. They had initially wanted to invite all their relatives over for a meeting. 

Her son must have had a celebration of sorts, only to disappoint all of the guests when he was later revealed to be the people on the waiting list. 

"He's passed the one year mark just a few months back. I tell him that it's fine. Stop worrying so much and be patient. After all, I had to wait for six years before I met his father! But, he's quite convinced he'll have to live alone." The lady said with a sigh, shaking her head.

Amber glanced at her, clearing her throat. "To be honest, one year is quite alright. There's a fairly decent chance his soulmate isn't,” she struggled to find the right word. “Indisposed."

Indisposed. Aka long dead from some unlucky event. The percentages for this depended on the global situation. It increased when there was a pandemic or a war, which resulted in the rising death toll. The numbers fell when there was peace and harmony. However, car accidents still happened.

"I know!” The lady nodded vigorously. “But, it's probably because all of his best friends have no soulmate. It pained him to see them lose hope over the years, and he didn’t want to be like them. According to him, it saves him the heartache."

"That's really sad. He shouldn't give up so quickly." Amber frowned

"I think so too. Anyway, don't worry dear." The woman smiled brightly. "I'll keep an eye out for you as well."

"Thank you. I'll really appreciate it. I trust Miri but it'll be nice to have someone help her out." Amber glanced at her best friend who was busy sending kissy-face selfies to Deok-Su.

"Maybe you're my son's soulmate."

Amber blinked, her eyes snapping to the older lady’s. She was grinning cheekily, mirth dancing in her brown eyes. 

"Um, ma'am. I would love that but—"

"I'm joking!” The older lady giggled, shaking her head as she smiled. “And call me Da-hee.” 

"Oh, I'm Amber. It’s a pleasure to meet you Da-hee."

They shook hands on it.

The music was growing louder and louder, and anticipation flickered Amber’s frame as she stood to take a look at the stage. Energy crackled in the air, and excitement fluttering within her frame. It was time. 

Amber turned her gaze to her surroundings, watching as the light sticks began to glow. They pulsated in time with the beat, spreading across the stadium in waves and waves of colour. The orbs of colour were like miniature fireflies that danced across the sea of darkened bodies with each pulse of the music. 

The lights went out and the crowd screamed. She watched enraptured as jets of fire burst forth from the stage, smoke spilling from the depths of the darkness and the crowd going crazy. They surged forward like a tsunami, pressing onto her body and pushing her forward, but Amber didn’t care. 

The beginning tunes of their latest song began to play and spotlights flickered on all at once. Her breath was strangled from her body as the seven men stepped out looking like gods from the heavens. 

A delirious bubble of happiness coursed through her veins and her initial feelings of heat, claustrophobia and thirst washed away into nothingness. Her mind was completely and utterly distracted by the seven men. 

They were breath-taking on stage, and a full body shiver surged through her, forcing goose bumps over the surface of her skin. Amber allowed herself to be consumed by the music. She let herself go, completely forgetting about all her worries and troubles.

The three hours passed by quickly, too quickly. The seven men were dancing so hard and singing so well, each performance took her breath away. Amber's heart twisted in pain at the sight of sweat dripping from their brows and the tension in their shoulders as their bodies protested from the exertion. 

She spotted a couple of them hiding backstage, bodies bent with their hands on their knees to catch their breaths before entering to dance their part of the songs. They seemed so tired, hidden under the shadows. But the minute they were on stage, they were on fire. 

It was very obvious when an artist loved their artwork and she was thankful. So very thankful that they were her artists. That they were her sirens. That they were her gods of music and she was their willing victim. This was years of hard work squeezed into a three-hour show and Amber was a little teary-eyed as she watched them perform.

She didn't even notice when the minutes ticked by, drawing closer and closer to her birthday.

10

They were so close to her. 

They stood right in front of her, having travelled across the long aisle that led to the diamond-shaped platform. JungKook took centre stage moving across the stage with a well-executed choreography. 

9

The moment the handsome man gave an experimental thrust, his tongue sticking out naughtily, the crowd roared.  His fans were going animalistic at the sight, their loud shrieks were starting to sound blood-curdling. 

Amber glanced at the fans beside her, noting the perverted glint in their eyes. They were breathing heavily as their screams got louder and louder from his actions. She gulped, turning back to stare at the male incubus before her.

8

Good God. Was he aware of what he did to all these women?

7

Amber's mouth went dry as he ran his hands through dark inky, wet locks. He glanced up at her section, looking at his fans from under thick lashes that fanned over his cheeks whenever he blinked. Amber groaned, feeling a tinge of jealousy in her heart at the sight of those beautiful eyes. 

JungKook's eyes were the largest and prettiest in the group.

6

She watched as he cocked his hip, mic pressed to his lips. The lead singer was gorgeous. His face was swathed in dark shadows that highlighted sharp cheekbones.

He swayed his feet moving across the stage in slow, carefully dragged movements that emphasised the shapes and lines of his body. The light bounced off his skin and he turned to give his fans a deadly smirk, revealing pretty teeth. 

5 

JungKook licked his lips, teasingly running long digits over his flat stomach as he body-rolled with the fluidity of silk rippling in the wind. And then his thumbs were on the edges of his shirt, pulling it upwards to expose mouth-watering skin. Amber’s jaw dropped open as he flashed the crowd with the sight of his abs. His body was all sinew and zero fat, his stomach taut for the show, with an alluring trail of hair trailing from his belly button to disappear in his pants. 

It was an underwear model’s body. The kind that made one salivate over the idea of running one’s hands over the flat hard planes. He dropped the shirt at the very next second, smirking naughtily as the fans went absolutely crazy. 

He strutted like a model on a catwalk, his body swaying as he moved over the stage. He was being absolutely shameless as he strained his muscles, letting them pop over his skin such that they were lewdly obvious. 

She watched, entranced as his fingers skirted over his cock in a salacious manner. They curved, running over places where they shouldn’t be going, accentuating areas that she should not notice. There was a reason why his cock had a dedicated fandom after all. 

Heat surged over her skin, lighting all her nerves on fire. She was hot and cold at the same time. Her body trembling at the sight of him. Fuck. Get a grip, Amber. She swallowed thickly shaking her head. 

She was here to say goodbye to her attraction. Not fuel it!

4

He finally decided to stop bursting ovaries and doubled over laughing happily. He turned jogging lightly to her direction, huge doe eyes scanning the crowd. He squinted at something to her left and suddenly his whole face lit up. 

3

It was so unlike him. The smile was genuine and he looked so, so happy. His eyes were twinkling under the light as he beamed so brightly that faint dimples formed on his cheeks.

Amber was reminded of the picture she had seen earlier on her saviour's phone and her heart pounded faster as links were steadily being made in her mind. Amber turned to look, spotting said woman who was waving her hands in the air, looking a little teary eyed.

"JUNGKOOK! Your mom is so proud of you!" Da-hee screamed.

Amber watched as the singer pursed his lips, his eyes turning red as he bowed to his mother in his thanks. Traces of tears were spilling from the corners of beautiful doe eyes as he gave her a final wave before walking back into position, his eyes never leaving his mother.

2

The music changed as the next song played. It was a haunting melody that made chills run over Amber’s skin. Her lips stretched at the familiar tune feeling a variety of emotions flicker through her. JungKook pressed his lips to the silver microphone as he swayed his hips to the beat of the music. 

"No worries on our mind, no questions to be solved, we are freed from our chains ~ "

His voice was beautiful. It melted in the air like sweet honey. He let the sound loose, his voice steadily climbing higher and higher as he sang. It echoed across the stadium, bell-like and angelic in quality. 

Beautiful.

Her breath rasped in her ears, her heart beating faster in her chest. She was so aware of how his voice made her feel, of how it seemed to brush over her skin. It drowned out the sounds around her and she was suddenly hyperaware of the fluttering beat of her pulse in her neck, her wrist—

Her clit. 

"AMBER!" Miri's voice cut into her daze. “AMBER! Your birthday!"

JungKook’s eyes popped open, drifting to meet hers as he wrapped up the flawless note a little too quickly. What was going on? He stared back at her and she was wrecked by the need to get to him. She needed to be closer to him. She needed to be with him. 

Hazel eyes met dark brown ones.

1

And they switched places. 

Chapter 5

There was no in between. There was no whoosh as if one were sliding down a slide. Or a sudden change of pressure as if one had dunked one's head into the water. 

It was not a slow gradual shift as she lost control of her own body. It was not a pleasant exchange in which she was given time to understand what was going on. She was just there in the crowd, surrounded by warm bodies and screaming fans. The next second, she was not.

The onslaught of sudden, very different feelings was hard to grasp. Her mind was unable to register exactly what was going on, and her heart raced beneath a chest that felt much wider than her own.

There was a lightness to this body, a sudden absence of weight at her front and there were new feelings. Too many new feelings.

It was only because this body had already adjusted to the environment that she didn't keel over or react violently. If it hadn't been, Amber swore that she would have vomited her guts out right then and there. Her mind wanted her to vomit. It wanted to protest and scream. It wanted to spasm and go into cardiac arrest.

The change was a sensory overload that was too different and too stark.

It was bright. Very, very bright and yet her eyes didn't adjust to the light. For a brief second, her mind blanked and she couldn’t comprehend anything. She couldn’t see; she couldn’t hear; she couldn’t speak. It was a moment of acceptance, of understanding. Of her mind given the needed time to comprehend the change.

Her brain slowly started to accept the feelings. It started first with the little soft changes that weren't too scary. Like the brush of bangs on her forehead; the press of something wrapped around her body, holding the soft silky shirt in place; the airy lack of a bra. Her skin was missing the cling of stretchy fabric and the sting of a digging wire. Then there was a sudden presence of something sensitive between her legs.

It stuck to her thighs, soft and dangly...Amber exhaled, her breath coming out in quick pants as she swallowed. The strange feeling of different shaped teeth was prevalent. And she could taste sweet mint on her tongue but these things were familiar, very familiar and it was nothing like the—she swallowed nervously—the thing hanging between her legs.

Whatever it was…(Honestly, Amber knew exactly what the hell it was.) It was highly disturbed by the tightness of the leather jeans. It was pushed into a position that was strangely uncomfortable to the tender appendage.

There was a sudden change in height and a distinct lack of softness in her body. Each twist of her frame was coupled with the stretch of aching muscles. This body was warm. It was as if she had just done some intense exercise leading to an inner heat from within. It was pumping with adrenaline that made her want to run for miles and jump a thousand times.

She was disoriented. Her fingers were quivering as she gripped tightly onto something metallic and cool in her hand. Amber inhaled sharply and a distinct scent hit her nose, wafting around her body—a cloud of natural sweetness. 

It was a natural scent that reminded her of the sweet musk of vanilla, with the spice of pears. It was coupled with the odd burn at the back of her nose that was reminiscent of the sea. It was subtle and refreshing, hidden by the sharp dose of some form of deodorant. A chemical cloying fragrance that masked the saltiness of the sweat dripping from her body.

If she tilted her nose away from her pits, aka the area doused with deodorant, she swore the amazing smell got stronger but it took a lot of sniffing to get a good grip of the scent.

Speaking of smells, the nose before her eyes was really sharp. It stood out from between her vision with its high bridge. It kind of felt like an insult to the flatness of her actual nose.

Amber frowned. She was not used to the length of her eyelashes. She was not used to the length of her hair. She was not used to the lack of boobs nor the sudden gain of something meaty in her pants. She was not used to everything. What the hell was going on? She took a steady step forward.

Then she stopped and just—

Stared.

Moments passed as her eyes flickered across the scene before her. Her pupils were darting around rapidly as she surveyed her new environment. Stage.

It was a concert. She was dizzy—bewildered, even— as her eyes swept across the many darkened faces and the bobbing sticks of light. Their perplexed gazes pushed her to take steps back as she smiled nervously at the hundreds and thousands of strangers before her.

The feeling of eyes on her person made her pulse quicken within her chest and her muscles cramp up a little. There was a sinking feeling in her gut. Her stomach was churning, squeezing and aching with her emotions. Her body was swept by fear. Gut-wrenching fear.

Calm the fuck down Ambrosia Momo Pei. She soothed in her mind. Calm the fuck down. She inhaled and exhaled through her teeth, trying to register everything. And she was suddenly made aware of the familiar tune that pounded in the background. The deep base vibrating beneath her feet and over her skin. Amber was spinning on her feet to look and distinctively she heard people screaming as she stared at the familiar minimalistic icon.

It loomed over her, looking even more threatening than the clock in the exam room. It was even more ominous than the stickman outside the toilet at the hotel. It was like seeing the red balloon after watching the It movie. 

It was like the feeling she got, when she was at the top of a roller coaster. And she suddenly realised that she was fucked because her seatbelts had just exploded apart.

This was the fucking BTS concert.

She pressed her fingers to her lips. No. His lips. God...no, no, no. NO. She glanced back at what she thought should be where her original body stood. Her eyes were darting over each head, trying to find the familiar red of her best friend or maybe Da-hee's short bob. Maybe even her own pixie cut. But, it was too dark which made it difficult to see, especially when there was a bright spotlight burning her retinas.

Her mind was too frazzled to make good judgement, and she was pretty sure that if one brought her out to the garden and asked her to point to the soil, she would point at the sky. She was pretty sure if you asked her what 1 + 1 was, right now, she would say 11. 

Damn it. 

Amber was that messed up in the brain right now.

Her mental self was screaming...hyperventilating. Her mental house was not only on fire. There was a tornado approaching, a tsunami was three seconds away, and there was also a Richter magnitude scale ten earthquake.

Amber was going to cry.

She inhaled deeply thinking back to the thousands of calming videos she'd seen online. The ASMR of someone eating chicken. The voice of a Youtuber trying to hypnotise her and convince her that her past self was a caveman. The sound of an BTS member talking. Amber froze at that thought. NO. NO. NO!

Keep calm. Act normal, don't fuck this up. She repeated in her head like a silent mantra as she was suddenly extremely aware of the millions of eyes on her. Her eyes traced over the people surrounding her, the cameras that rolled around the edges of the stage. Everyone was looking. Everyone.

Oh God, help her.

Who was she? Her eyes spun frantically as she tried her best to act normal as she walked across the stage, giving what she hoped were smiles to the screaming fans. It must have worked because a weak quirk of her lips sent them roaring. She was walking quickly to the nearest person on stage.

When her eyes met Yoongi's, she stopped and for a second, a very small second, she stared. 

He was beautiful. His hair pushed back with a red bandana that exposed his forehead, silver rings clipped to the edges of his earlobes. His skin was really pale. Just as pale as he had been in that music video she had seen. 

Hell, he was so white that everything stood out on him. The soft dark purple glitter of his eyeshadow, the glimmer highlight on his cheek, the tinted mint of his hair. 

"What is it?" He drawled, lips curling as they moved. 

The deep sound was gorgeous. Low and rough with a scratchy growl that sent her heart flying in her chest. If she let it, she swore that her beating heart would head straight for him and proceed to press itself to his muscular chest.

He smirked at her with a brow raised, his hips cocked into a relaxed position. He exuded that very same charismatic sexuality she had seen on screen. And Amber would have died from being under the direct gaze of this handsome man if not for the current already nerve-wracking situation.

"Who...am I?" 

The voice that escaped her throat was different. Very different. It rumbled out of her chest, deeper than what she was used to and Amber was reminded of an RPG game. 

A game where one played as a different character. She used to laugh all the time at the voice acting. At the sounds that the character made during fights. Especially the sounds that the character made when he died. The strangled scream of the male voice actor was always a hilarious squeaky wail that made her laugh. 

Now, it was not funny anymore and she did not want to send this body walking off a mountain, or the stage for that matter. She was very sure the fans would eat her alive. Hell, the crazy fans in the vicinity would rape this poor man. 

The Amber inside her mind laughed and suggested moaning right now to see what she would sound like. Just for the fun and the fan service. Rational Amber slapped her. 

The confusion that flickered across the shorter man's face was evident and his brows furrowed, red lips pressed together. He was puzzled by her words.

"What are you saying?" Alarm was dancing across his features.

"Help," Amber cleared her throat, swallowing thickly. "Please. I can't sing-I-I can't. Are there more lines?"

"What?" Yoongi inhaled sharply. "JungKook. WHAT?" His voice peaked as he stared at her incredulously, his eyes widening into a comical expression of pure horror. 

JungKook. 

Amber gasped as her mind repeated his name. JungKook. JungKook was her soulmate. She swallowed glancing down at the outfit, the very same leather pants that she was just squealing over seconds ago, greeted her eyes. She tried not to think about that bulge between her legs or the feeling of it sticking to her thighs and her mind moved quickly.

Her mind moved, connecting the name to the man with the sexy smirks. The man with the wide doe-like eyes. The man who was so well-loved by thousands of fans worldwide. The man with the prettiest of smiles and the cutest of laughing crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

The man who Da-hee had said was convinced that he would remain alone forever.

JungKook.

Her heart? His heart? It raced under her flesh, fast and strong as a feeling of warmth enveloped her at the thought of him. Then, it was replaced by a stark burst of cold dread at the current situation. It was biting and painful, nauseating and cloying in her stomach. She exhaled, letting out a ragged breath.

This was clearly body exchange.

JungKook. Jeon JungKook, youngest member of BTS. Half Korean, half Chinese idol prodigy who was scouted by thousands of Korean and Chinese entertainment agencies. That man. She was in his body. Wait a second—her eyes widened and she choked. 

He was in her body.

Her flabby, curvy body. That very same body that was extremely female with boobs. A guy was in her body. A very handsome, very famous guy who was supposed to continue singing at his own concert.

Oh my God.

Her mind seemed to snap awake, somehow gaining some semblance of rational and logical decision making. Amber glanced back towards the large LCD screens and she could feel the blood drain from her face as she listened to the song in the background. 

There were plenty of lines left, lines that JungKook had to sing. How long did this last? How did one go back to their bodies? What did she have to do? Sleep? Hit herself on the head until her soul flew out of her body?

Masturbate?

She licked her lips, wincing at that suggestion. God. She could not screw this up for JungKook. He worked so hard for this. If he stopped and did not sing, this would hit the newspapers because it would be so fucking obvious that she was not him.

The beat sped up and she vaguely registered that Yoongi was stepping up to her. Part of Amber's muddled mind notes that the guy was glowing slightly, his skin shimmered under the spotlight.

If she got a chance, Amber was going to steam some fish, put it under the God damn spot light and then plonk Yoongi onto a seat right next to it. Then she was going to take a picture, use the eyedropper tool and compare the shades of white.

Yeah, that was if she didn't die. She raised the mic to her lips, praying to God that her voice didn't crack from her nerves. Her heart was pulsating at her temples.

"You—"

"Who cares, we only live once, there's no use worrying so much ~ "

The minute her part ended, she wrenched the mic away from her face and gave out a bark of hysterical laughter. She did it. She sounded a little shaky but it was okay, acceptable. Not a disastrous off-tuned screech. It was thankfully, one of the lines with a lower note and singing its tune was as simple as singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Somehow, JungKook's body knew exactly what to do with his diaphragm. The muscle memory paired with his warmed vocal cords made it easy to belt out that tune, and she was surprised by the clarity and strength of his voice. The next member took over and she exhaled in relief. Thank God. She blanched, swallowing thickly.

How much longer must she do this?

"Are you his soulmate?" Yoongi asked, his face twisted into one of extreme concern. 

He had stepped up to her, so close that his face was mere centimetres apart from hers. It was as if he were trying to figure out if she were lying and playing tricks on him. His eyes were searching her face, trying to read her expressions. The sudden closeness made that glow of his skin even more apparent and Amber was dazzled. She was bewitched by his features. 

Everything was much ‘uglier’ in reality. That was the truth. 

She was seeing the hints of pimples that the BB cream on his face was barely able to conceal. She was seeing tiny scars on his chin, the wrinkled dent of laughing lines that the makeup had sunk into. Beyond all that, she was seeing his eyes, his very beautiful, raw eyes.

Amber didn't know how to put into words what she was seeing...a comparison of harsh lines of the face and the dewy melt of wet, shimmery eyes.

His eyes were covered with contacts that had a dark green rim, streaked with gold and bits of silver. Despite that, she could see his pupils moving to focus as they travelled across her face.

There was something really beautiful about looking at someone's face up close.

Sure, the imperfections were all there, amplified and obvious. Regardless, there was something just so beautiful about looking at the way someone's eyes dilated as you looked at them. The way lashes parted across eyelids. The way lips glistened under the light, a mix of his own natural pink and the stain of makeup red. The way his nose curved over his skin.

Plus, he was glowing. It was not the shine of oily skin or the shimmer of wet sweat over flesh. It was a faint light that glistened from within his skin. She licked her lips, swallowing thickly. Oh God. She just licked a man's lips. 

"Yea..." She said. "Please help me. Spontaneous singing is really, really not my thing. I doubt I can go for round two." The minute the words started, her anxiety spurred her to continue and she was blabbering out whatever her mind supplied. “I’m literally trembling. I'm so close to peeing his pants now. What if you really need the toilet? Do you just walk off the stage and say adios amigos, je dois faire pipi. 不要太想念我啦! 頑張ってください! (Bye friends, I need to go pee-pee. Don't miss me too much! Good luck) All the best?"

Her answer must have done it. Maybe it was the way she said those words. Maybe there really was something different about her features. Amber was not sure. She didn't do that much research on body exchange. 

Then again, JungKook probably didn't know much English, Spanish, French and Japanese. Amber's talent was the result of a multilingual parent, who liked to curse creatively in different languages as a form of spite.

But Yoongi looked absolutely stunned. His mouth hung open cutely, the classic jaw dropped as he stared at her, revealing squared, pearly teeth and a tiny pink tongue. He snapped it shut and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Amber squinted a little.

Was that glow increasing? Maybe...It's not his skincare? Could the tech team dim down the light on him, please? At this rate, she might just need sunglasses.

"Fuck," he breathed, beautiful voice vibrating into a sexy, throaty groan. He took the words from her lips, her mind, her soul and her very being. It was not a disgusting spit of the word. 

He had cut off the air he provided to his vocal cords to only give the barest minimum to produce sound. This resulted in an even deeper growled exhale that was more like a moan than a word itself.

"Fuck yeah," Amber echoed back in that sweet voice of her soulmate. "Starting this with a bang, huh?" She gave him a shaky nervous chuckle. She watched as his eyes flickered. She was practically seeing the cogs in his mind turn and snap into place.

"I'll help you sing the chorus. God, fucking damn it." Yoongi cursed, his voice dipping into a low sexy growl. It sent a tremor through her body and she swore the thing in her pants trembled.

IT MOVED.

Amber froze, her body clamping up at the weird feeling. Previously, it was kind of less noticeable. She eventually got used to it. It was like the feeling of her ass in jeans. One would not be thinking about one's ass cheeks all day until someone touched it. She swallowed nervously, shifting about. 

PLEASE GOD NO. NOBODY. TOUCH. THE THING.

"Quick! Act as if you gave me the lines." 

Yoongi motioned to her. Amber snapped out of her thoughts and scrambled as she pushed her mic to his face, grateful for the distraction. He gave her a fake laugh, just for the cameras, and belted out the next tune.

"I don't care if it's written in the stars that I'm meant to follow that stream ~ "

The deep growl of his voice with its scratchy tinge somehow made the song sound ten times more erotic. Amber assumed that he was still in his rapping mode. The one that consisted of raspy growls and harsh snarls that were mixed with moaned words. 

The fans roared in approval, going crazy with happiness at his erotic rendition of the song. Amber was startled, her eyes going round at the sound. It was crazy that Yoongi was singing. 

"I've spent years on this path, beaten down by thousands, blood running into my eyes ~ "

He was a rapper, through and through. Sure, rappers sang. Sometimes, they would switch into a soft tune to blend in with the melody. Sometimes, they would sing during the chorus. But not Yoongi, never Yoongi

"My constellations are just fragments of a mirror that reflects a single imagery of the rising sun ~ "

He was the one member who had sung the least in BTS’s six-year history. He'd admitted on camera that the reason was because he believed that his voice was not suited for vocal melodies. Hence he was generally against it. To hear him sing right now was—

Crazy.

His eyes shifted towards her languidly as he sang. A small comforting smile on his lips and Amber gulped, swallowing loudly at the sight.

"I'll steer my ship ashore, stop and run towards the night of a million skyscrapers and the flashing signs of life ~ "

He finished it flawlessly and exhaled, running fingers through his hair.

"Damn, I've never sung that live." 

The guy chuckled looking impressed with himself. He smirked at her, cocking his hip to a side. "The guys probably know there's something up by now," he shrugged, toying with the microphone in his hands. "There's no way in hell that I would start singing for the fun of it."

It was as he said, because from the corner of her eye she spotted the nearest member heading towards their direction. Jimin was moving across the stage quickly, covering distance as he jogged towards them, all the while waving and smiling to his fans. The boy stopped before them with wide concerned eyes, plump lips pressed together.    

He was nibbling on those firm mounds of red-tinged skin. His droopy almond eyes lined with a smoky smear of russet and gold. He was much shorter than JungKook and so he was looking up at her with those huge pretty eyes.

Oh my God. Amber inhaled sharply and the effects of his sweet smile travelled all the way down there. She swallowed thickly. With ruby droplets hanging down his ears and dusty blonde hair, Jimin was unbelievably beautiful. 

So, so fucking beautiful. 

"Are you okay, JungKook?" He breathed in that soft mellifluous voice and Amber almost died. Her heart sprouted wings. It was airborne, ready to fly straight out of her mouth and escape her chest. 

He was dressed in a glittery sweater that dazzled in all seven colours of the rainbow. The light bounced from his clothes to his attractive face in little shimmers of iridescent colours. And sometimes, they reflected right into his eyes to reveal dilating pupils. 

"Does your throat hurt?" Jimin asked, and somehow that comes out as a sweet little moan of words.

His voice was 100% her type and the thing in her pants agreed. It took all her willpower to not look down and shift her package to check if it were okay or not. Because Amber was not okay. All she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears, as her heart screamed at the sight of Jimin acknowledging her puny existence. 

"Hey, Jimin. Can you cover for him?" Yoongi spoke, his voice low and sombre, as he gripped onto Min Jae's arm.

"Bro, what?" Jimin glanced up at him, looking frightened. “Is JungKook sick?” His gaze darted back to her. “Is he okay?” 

"This is JungKook's soulmate."

"Oh." 

The boy hummed, fluffy hair bouncing a little. Then, he frowned. Amber could see the light bulb go off in his mind. The pretty boy's eyes widened as he stared at her, doing a cute little double take. 

"Oooh!" 

Amber watched as Jimin pressed a hand to his lips, his eyes curving into little moons of happiness as he tried to conceal giggles behind his palms. Oh my God, he was cuter in real life.

She was also pretty sure that he was fangirling right now because he was shooting her the same look Miri had been giving her hours ago. The whole naughty eye glint thing and the overly perverted giggles. 

"Hey! Could you stop being so obvious!" Yoongi hissed. Although there was a smirk on his lips that couldn’t stop appearing every time he looked at her. Seriously, they were actually really happy for JungKook. 

"We can just pretend we're being chummy," Jimin tittered, the natural cuteness oozing out of him. 

He stepped closer to her, sniggering as he looped an arm across her waist, his hands resting at her hips. He was warm and Amber couldn’t help but stiffen at his touch. She was suddenly very aware of his hands pressed to her hips.

"The fans like it when we’re overly touchy." He soothed, giving her an open invitation to wrap her arms around him.

The screams of fans were growing louder and louder with his every move. 

Amber’s breath caught in her throat but she resolved to listen to him. She angled her body to accept the half hug. She aimed to rest her hand gently on his hips but missed, brushing her fingers against his bare wrist.

Electricity. 

That very same jolt of energy that had run through her skin when she touched Taehyung. It was flowing between them now and she shuddered, eyes growing wide with her shock. Her mouth went dry as her heart lurched in her chest.

Jimin seemed to have felt absolutely nothing because his expression did not change at all. She swore that his body had clamped a little and his lips had trembled slightly, but Amber was not sure. 

Jimin continued to talk to Yoongi, shrugging as they discussed their options as if they were talking about cakes. All she could do was stare at him as she tried her best to hide the tremble of her skin from his embrace. Her soul was burning from the touch of his skin. Please. Please don't react male signalling-pole of disaster.

"Are you okay? JungKook's soulmate?"

Jimin had turned his large, dewy eyes on her and he was smiling adorably. Amber turned to meet his gaze. That was when her heart practically stopped for a full second and her lips quivered. It took all her willpower to not let her jaw drop in absolute bewilderment and awe.

An otherworldly being stood before her.

Flowers.     

It was like a filter, a Snapchat filter, only a hundred per cent more realistic and a thousand times more beautiful. They blossomed in his hair like a huge flower crown, spilling from the sides of his head to dangle in a pretty arrangement. It was not an ugly lump of cheap plastic crap. It was aesthetically placed. Each blossom and individual petal was a pretty pastel. It was as if a renowned flower arranger had just styled his hair.

Light blue roses blossomed from the depths of tiny pink, purple and white lilacs. They appeared slightly translucent with a shimmery gossamer-like quality that reminded her of insect wings. These were all supplemented by tiny sprigs of baby breaths and sprigs of green.

On a closer look, there were even little beads of dew on each petal. The killing blow would be the fireflies. They were more like little spots of light that danced amid these steadily blossoming flowers, flickering and illuminating his beautiful face.

They were beautiful. 

He looked like a fairy prince that had emerged from the woods to greet his willing victim. For dramatic effect, petals that had dislodged from the crown drifted down and disappeared into nothingness on reaching the floor.

He was a walking piece of artwork.

She watched as he ran his fingers through blonde locks and the flowers that he touched melted into oblivion before blooming again. It was like virtual objects in a game. Virtual objects that respawned endlessly. This was...She swallowed as her mind started to draw links. She was giddy with her realisation.

Flower Crown of the Soul : In which a similar flower crown will appear on each soulmate's head.

But, it didn't make any sense? Amber's mind spiralled through her database of soulmate knowledge. Flower Crown of the Soul bloomed when one touched one’s soulmate. It was usually visible to all and physical to the touch. One could even pluck the thing and display it for weeks. 

She'd been to the home of her mother's best friend and had seen huge vases of the most beautiful sunflowers she'd ever seen in her life. Her mother had one in their home, a gift from her BFF. 

It was a great honour to be given one. It represented trust and love.

How was it not physical? Was it because she was in JungKook's body? It should be visible to everyone. Not just her. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Was he not...hers? Hold on, didn't she already have a soulmate? Her mouth dried as Jimin knotted his fingers in her shirt. He was so close to her that her heart stuttered in her chest from the proximity. 

"The person is in shock. Stop touching him, Jimin!" Yoongi chided. "This is not JungKook!"

"Ah, sorry." 

Jimin slipped out of her grasp and Amber watched as the flowers continued to shimmer on his head. Was this a false alarm? Just her soul going crazy? Maybe JungKook was just too close to these people and so his body started to go funky? Maybe she was turning crazy?

"Hey, it's fine. We'll protect you okay?" Amber’s eyes snapped up to meet that of a glowing star's.

Yoongi glowed. With the three of them in the area, it seemed that the tech team had decided to use a different kind of spotlight over their heads, something that wasn't as bright and as dazzling as the ones they used before.   

This was a soft wash of yellow light that allowed her to see the steady glow emitting from his skin. He shone. His skin shimmering with tiny streaks of soft light. It was not the eye blinding sparkle of diamonds, nor was it the flash of a torch that assaulted your retinas.

It was the soft glow of fireflies in the dark; the flicker of a candle's edge; the shimmer of a star in the night sky. It was the reflection of the moon on a lake, a glimmer of light on the waves; the pool of gold when the sun met the horizon at dawn.

Soul Beam:  In which the more time one spent with their soulmate, the brighter one glowed.

Yoongi smiled, revealing glimmering teeth and Amber was dazzled. Dazzled. Like the glow of the rising sun, she could just sit there and watch him for days. Maybe even weeks. Oh no. 

He clearly didn't see it on her. Soul beam was only visible to the two recipients, if she was seeing it he should see it. But just like Jimin's soul bond he couldn’t see it. Amber paled and someone tapped her on her shoulder. She turned her eyes meeting that of Hoseok's.

Hoseok. Oh God.

"You okay?"     

Her mind swam. Everything dulled down into a soft hum as she stared at the sunny boy before her. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a soft pout, but she was not interested in that. She was looking at the beaming sign that floated above his head. 

There was a cute little neon arrow pointing at him. It bounced over his head repeatedly. Just like the signboards in Tokyo, it was glaring in the spotlight. The colour bled outwards, illuminating his soft hair in a neon pink and blue light.

Her breath hitched as squiggly lines in her messy handwriting streaked over his head. She almost wanted to die when the words flashed messages that only she would see and understand.

Property of Amber! Keep Out! NO TOUCHING! 

Amber inhaled sharply. The words moved again, flickering as it changed.

Sunshine, Nipple-Virginity-Stealing Cutie is right here waiting to be kissed! Profess your Undying Love, before he leaves!

What? She swallowed thickly, squinting at the words. 

Dumb bitch, why don’t you just make out with him, who cares if it's MaleXMale? The fans will love it, you will love it. He will love it. So, just do it!

Were soul bonds supposed to be so demanding?

Words of Love:  Plays one's innermost thoughts of one's soulmate above one's soulmate’s head.

Only soulmates would be able to see the signs. This soul bond was famous for providing soulmates with the ability to spot one another from afar. They would eventually melt into tattoos on the skin over time. 

"JungKook?" 

Someone grabbed her hands and her body melted at his touch. She whipped over to look and the familiar face of Kim Taehyung stared back at her. Vines were weaving between their intertwined hands. 

The moment their souls deemed them to be connected enough, tiny rosebuds formed before her eyes. They bloomed between their entwined hands specifically on their pinkie, as red and as vibrant as the lipstick dabbed on the inner portion of Taehyung's lips. Her heart tripped at the sight.

Rose Rings of Fate:  In which soulmates are connected via roses.

As the name suggested, the soul bond remained as tattooed roses on their pinkie which blossomed when they touched. It was intangible, but the roses were normally visible to all. 

In addition to that, there was a stream of red fire that connected their rings. The thing trailed between their legs, a molten red line of pulsating gold.

Amber’s heart—No JungKook's heart— was soaring, rapping against her ribcage. She was unable to move, unable to think because this rollercoaster was steadily heading towards uncharted territories.

Her seatbelt was not just gone. Her entire damned seat was gone, the rollercoaster was gone. The track was gone. Even the Earth was fucking gone. Her body was flying to outer space while spinning multiple cartwheels. It was that bad.

Amber wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to die. How did Lady Fate decide that she was worthy of this? Why her? 

Then she was being lifted, someone hoisted her body up from its shell shocked state. He dashed away, carrying her like a sack of potatoes on his shoulders. From the corner of her eye, she could see Taehyung fibbing a shrug as he spun her microphone between his fingers. 

The fans were laughing. They thought it was a ploy, that the members were bullying her, bullying JungKook. The guy, whoever he was, dashed into the safety of the darkness of the backstage. 

It was a mess backstage. Her eyes flickered over the flurry of activity. There were dancers running about, security mumbling into walkie-talkies, staff speaking to one another rapidly as they fiddled with equipment. Everything was just so, so, so loud.

Whoever was holding onto her like a sack of potatoes gently placed her into a plastic seat. The movement caused her skin to brush against his, and her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the crumpled lift of his shirt. And his skin—

His skin. 

Intricate golden lines pulsed across his contracted abdomen in a beautiful pattern that spread from his heart. Her touch resulted in a sudden burst of gold that danced across his skin before disappearing quickly. 

Her eyes noted the fading of golden light underneath his white shirt. The distinct heart-shaped shimmer of gold pulsated once more. Amber only caught a brief glimpse but it was enough for her to know exactly what it was.

Midas touch:  In which touching your soulmate will leave imprints of gold. 

Like the tale, the touch of the soulmate would unlock golden patterns over their skin. 

Jin's beautiful face greeted hers, his features were half concealed by the darkness and half-illuminated by stage lights. His perfect eyes met hers as kissable lips stretched into a kind smile.     

"Hey, you're safe now. Don't panic, okay?"

Then someone gently patted her shoulder and Amber's eyes drifted upwards to the leader of the team.

Namjoon.

She swallowed thickly. Full brows, a tall bridged nose that buttoned out adorably, and foxy eyes. The handsome man smiled. His dimples sunk into his cheeks and his lips stretched into a vivacious smile, revealing pearly teeth. It took up his whole face, consuming him whole and then—     

His eyes.

In the darkness, she should not be seeing those colours. Colours that glimmered from within his dark eyes. She could see shades of purple, shades of gold, shades of pink, blue, green, yellow...Colours of the rainbow.

Then she was noticing the multi-coloured footprints behind him on the floor. She was noticing the imprint of luminescent colours on her shoulders which took the shape of his hands. 

Soul Slime:  In which the soulmate will leave colourful imprints on everything he/she touches.

Oh God. 

Seven.

Seven.

Seven.

"Are you alright? We'll figure this out together. Don't worry." Namjoon grinned. Don't worry. We will figure this out. TOGETHER. Her head swam and then everything went black.