Soulmate

Forty Six: Ophelia

February 25, 2020
Seoul, South Korea

Our eyes lock for a split second after we pull apart. We stare at each other for what feels like forever and yet not long enough. He smiles at me with delicate, soft eyes and I breathe out a small laugh, gazing into the eyes I've always been so in love with. His thumb strokes my cheek lovingly. We're the only two people in the world. 

Then the screaming starts. 

We're shaken out of our trance once an ARMY Bomb hits me in the middle of my back. Albums, papers, BT21 plushies, bags, phones, everything within reach is being thrown at the stage. Seokjin holds me by my shoulders, keeping my face in his shirt. 

"Don't turn around," he says into my ear. It's hard not to, though. People are yelling, rushing the stage, I even hear crying. 

Someone jumps up and grabs my sweater, pulling me out from his hold and nearly off the stage as I stumble fearfully. Jungkook's eyes widen and he dives over the table to grab me from tumbling off the stage and into the suddenly terrifying crowd of ARMYs. I hold onto his arms tightly as a security guard shoves the girl off the stage. Another two guards grab me and haul my body over the table an me backstage as they run the seven members back to safety as well. 

"Ophelia!" Rose shouts, reaching her hand out to me. It's that moment that I realize I don't have any of my stuff, not even my phone. 

"Get the fan!" I yell back, my grandma's gift being my only priority right now. The big security guard pushes my head to face forward and away from the crowd. "Hey—!"

"Keep your face down, miss," he says hurriedly. "Don't show them your face."

I obey without another word. My heart is pounding in my chest from the panic of the moment.

We're all shoved down the steps and into the nearest dressing room, filled with managers and stylists and all sorts of people I can't even process. A soft but determined hand grabs my wrists and pulls me to lean against a tall, lean body and I instantly know who it is. My fingers hold onto the expensive material of his jacket, desperate for solace in the sudden chaos. Seokjin holds me behind him protectively and I hide behind his shoulder, overwhelmed by the amount of eyes on me now.

"Kim Seokjin," a deep voice, Namjoon's, grumbles. "Are you kidding me right now?"

After a moment, another deep voice speaks up. "Seokjin, don't stand there like you don't know what we're saying. We all saw you." 

"She...she's his soulmate," Jungkook defends weakly. 

"Okay, and?" Namjoon snaps. 

"Can somebody get her out of here, please?" the previous man says. "I don't want her first impressions to be of us yelling." 

Another security guard—there are a lot of those apparently—takes my arm and pulls me in the direction of the door. Seokjin reaches out to me desperately in an attempt to keep me next to him. 

I take his hand and squeeze. "It's okay," is all I say as I'm shoved out the door. 

The guard becomes much more gentle the further we get into the backstage area, but I feel my heartbeat quicken with each step that grows between Seokjin and I. It doesn't help that I can still hear the angry fans. 

The man open a door for me and directs me to a grey couch on the other end of the wall. I assume it must be some kind of break room, because there's a mini fridge with drinks, a coffee table that's nearly filled with snacks and food, and a hot water dispenser for instant noodles. I look around and turn back to the guard. He drops his eyes from me and nods his head politely.