Filter (Kim Namjoon X Readers)

Chapter 18

The school was buzzing, even more than usual. Passing through the gates, you saw that the students were riled up about something. As you entered the lobby, you gathered the reason why: Kim Namjoon. The hallway where the music room was located was especially crowded, girls climbing on top of each other, hoping to catch a glimpse of heaven behind those doors.

The bell rang but it didn't seem like anyone was in the mood to attend their classes. You managed to push your way to the front of the crowd and turned you back to the set of mysterious double doors. "Everyone, please go to your classes now before you're late."

"Shut up!" someone yelled, "You can't tell us what to do."

"Yeah!" someone else agreed, "We want to see them and it's not fair that you get them all to yourselves."

"I don't get them all to myself," you defended.

"Don't lie, we saw how you practically clung on to Namjoon oppa at the dance last weekend with that slutty dress."

"I can assure you that I had more fabric on my body than any of you did combine," you retorted. "But putting that aside, it has nothing to do with the fact that you all need to get to class right now."

"Whatever, you just want him all to yourself." The crowd was not backing down. Various comments about you at the dance has been made ever since you got back from the trip. The name-calling increased, but at least it was only that, for now. For the most part, you couldn't care less about those things because he kept your mind off of it. Everyday, he took you home and picked you up. Except for today, he called last night telling you there was going to be a surprise, but left you hanging when you asked what it was.

"I do not want him all to myself," you returned. But no one heard you because the door opened and the volume of the scream elevated. The girls pushed past you in order to greet whoever was behind the door, they didn't care about who in particular, as long as it was one of the boys. You were knocked down to the ground and soon the crowd gasped as someone stepped out approached you. He offered out his hand and you thought you had died because an angel was in front of you.

His face was the same. His hair was still long, just a little trim at the end, and it was straightened. His uniform was the same as every male in the school, dark blue and white t-shirt. Except it was different, the hems on his pants were no longer covering his black and white vans. His fitted shirt was tucked in and a handsome tie neatly hung from his neck. He looked new, and polished. The first time this has happened since he stepped foot in this school and all the girls were melting over him. But they hated the fact that you took his hand, their glare could set you ablaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Wow," you answered. Namjoon smirked and took that as a compliment.

He turned his head to the anticipating and close to the combusting crowd, "Everyone, please don't give our prez a hard time. And please be good and go to classes for me, there will be a reward for those who listen." he winked. With that one gesture, everyone ran away and soon it was just you two.

"Maybe you should be class president then," you half-joked.

"I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not a people person," he chuckled. "And besides, I think you're doing a great job already."

"What's with the sudden change of look?"

He shrugged, "I thought you would have liked the change."

"I think you enjoy the attention more," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and played with the ends of your hair, "I just want your attention, that's all." That sent flutters to your stomach, but you swallowed them away. Namjoon was quite disappointed that you didn't give a response. "Oh, are you coming tonight?"

"What's tonight?"

"Jimin's recital," he answered. You suddenly remember Jimin mentioning it before, but you didn't know it was something you could attend. "He saved you a ticket. I'll pick you up tonight. We can talk about it later, let's go to class now."

"Wait, you're going to class? Who are you and what you have you done with Kim Namjoon?"
He laughed, tossing his head back. "Well, you did this to me, Choi Y/N. You're responsible for me now." He held your hand for a while longer on his way to class, beaming the entire time.

***

What Namjoon means by saving you a seat was saving you a seat in the VIP balcony of the auditorium. The rest of the boys were there to support along with a well-groomed man that you assumed to be Jimin's father, "The man has never said anything nice to his son. There are only ever backhanded comments. I didn't think he would come today, actually." Namjoon explained, leaning close to your ear. You nodded, this is a business world after all but at least he allowed Jimin to follow his passion.

Yet he was a stone during the entire performance. While Jimin was spinning, jumping, flying in the air, not a muscle on his father's face moved. You were sure he was incapable of any emotion considering you were on the verge of crying during his dance. The song ended and the room erupted in cheers. You could see Jimin staying strong and putting on his bright smile while trying to catch his breath in secret. All those months of rehearsal certainly paid off and you hoped he was proud of himself.

"Mr. Park, what did you think of Jimin's dance?" Taehyung asked on behalf of his best friend.

The man grunted and stood up, fixing his suit jacket. "It was alright, nothing special." he answered. It made Taehyung stiffened up, and Namjoon placed a protective hand on his shoulder.

It annoyed you that a person could say such a thing and you figured the boys had some sort of respect for him, which is why they're not saying anything. But you didn't have that respect. "Alright?" you repeated, "I thought it was horrible."

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Hoseok asked.

"Come on, Hoseok," you dismissed, "As a dancer, you should know what a bad performance is. I mean his form was fluid but also flimsy and unmotivated. Anyone could do better than him. He'll never make it as a dancer."

His father's jaw clenched, smokes coming out of his ears."I don't know who you are but you have no right to talk to my son that way." he boomed. "He's an amazing dancer and that was a fantastic performance."

That was the answer you were looking for. Mr. Park's face dropped when he realized what he had just said. His parents always told him that compliments only make a person weak, so he had never so much as to tell his son 'good job'. Jimin certainly grew up strong and independent, but maybe too independent.

"Is it so hard to say what you feel?" you asked before leaving with the boys. Mr. Park stood on the empty balcony for a while, then pulled out his phone to call his son.