There are moments where I as an author and Namjoon enthusiast live vicariously through Maia... can you spot where?
~
"No, no, no.... Not 'gone forth', it's 'comfort'."
"Write it for me, I am having a hard time hearing you from here."
Maia sighed as she wrestled with her patience. Namjoon was practicing at the venue, and they were in the midst of making final corrections to his speech. She wrote the word on the device she was holding, one that was synced with a similar one that he was holding.
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Maia chose to sit farthest away so that she could remark on his stage presence and aura, something she offered to help him out of the blue. As she wrote the word, he saw it. He smiled and then gave her a 'thumbs up', further proceeding with their rehearsal. At the back of her mind, her fangirling self was noting this moment with melancholy, at the prospect of never seeing him up close – this close – ever again, having his attention completely on her, and helping him with something so monumental. Of how she'd never see that carefree smile which isn't one for the cameras, his little 'big brain' moments, and how within the course of three weeks, he gave a completely different dimension to certain thoughts and ideologies. She'd miss their 'playdates' as he called them, where they'd take Moni out to the park to relish the early morning breeze, or when he'd sneak her into his schedule visiting museums and art centers, or even when they just sit down at a coffee shop: not as a superstar and his temporary tutor, but as ordinary humans enjoying some Americano and Matcha. But that was reality, and she couldn't change it; instead, she made terms with it and chose happiness.
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While her mind was busy collecting moments like Pokémon, Namjoon admired her from afar. Even though the spotlight wasn't on her, she radiated so much light. So much so that it reminded him of sunflowers – Hoseok? No! – the kind of energy that emanates from a person who was truly happy with what they have in life right now, of what they emote genuinely and without compulsion. He admired her. And over all the blurred lines that he smudged for her, he knew that she was a remarkable woman. He had asked Hoseok to help him out to check her social media – stalk, if you will – and his curiosity was satiated when he got to know she was an ardent fan of his.
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It's borderline cute, he'd admit, when he gets her all flustered, because he definitely checked her account out. And when he saw something that piqued his interest, he'd enact it in real life – and the results were always adorable. And from her interaction with the people who mattered the most to him – his band mates, his father, and his friends – everyone seemed to be in awe of her stark professionalism and saccharine sweet qualities. He didn't believe in infatuation – his line of work doesn't allow him to – but something about her seemed to tether to his heart, a yearning of sorts- to be in her life not as the people's favorite artist, but as Kim Namjoon, devoid of the fame, the name and the money. Every moment they spend together, he learns of the simplicity of life, of enjoying without the fear of being potentially attacked; of feeling safe to express. And that safe zone seems to lead to Maia. He respected her as a woman who wouldn't go down without an honorable fight when she knows she isn't wrong. His fame and status often made people bow down to him, to agree to his whims and fancies, but she wasn't, and she made it clear who was in charge of the complexities of language.
He sighed deeply and looked at her writing on the screen, and something about her penmanship really feels familiar, like he had seen it before. He took a screenshot of it, meaning to look at it later, hoping something connects the dots. "Sir, it's time to go. Your allotted practice time has ended, so you will have to clear the area now." A woman had approached him from behind, her ID badge on display. She was holding a clipboard and was tapping on the surface of it. He bowed to her – purely out of muscle memory – and then turned over to catch Maia's attention. He waved at her, and signaled their departure. Maia nodded and collected her things, putting on her facemask as she rose from her seat. They both headed towards the exit, and when they reached the foyer, their car was already waiting. "Geunyeoga nae cha-e tado gwenchanheulkayo?" he asked the security detail. Would it be okay if she rode the car with me? The security personnel were puzzled but once they looked at how serious he was about it, they gave him the all-clear sign. Maia was headed towards the car behind her when Joon grabbed her sleeve, dragging her towards him. "Let's ride together," he said and was faced with a perplexed expression from her. "Uh, did the other car run out of fuel or something?"
