Borahae (BTS reverse harem)✔️

Attack on Bangtan

I watch Jigaemae reread the note for the third time, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight. After I raced back to my room and managed to text him through trembling fingers, I told him everything. And then we went through it all again, both of us trying to figure out how someone got into my private dressing room all while avoiding cameras. Plus I needed to verbally retrace my steps. Did I see someone that could've looked suspicious? Could it have been one of the attendants?

The reasonable conclusion would be to connect this to one of the staff, namely Mimi. But outside of little petty eye rolls, she hasn't shown any aggression towards me. And she and the other stylists aren't even expected to arrive from Seoul until a little later tonight. Who else would know our itinerary and location? A hotel worker who is also a sasaeng? Possibly.

Unfortunately, since patrons are oftentimes scantily clad at the spa and they cater to an upscale clientele, there was no surveillance near the dressing rooms. And now that the nerves have begun to wear off and my heart rate has returned to a normal rate, I have to wonder if there were hidden cameras. Fuck. The press will eat that shit up. Like I need another reason to be labeled a whore.

Jigaemae assures me that their security team will sweep the entire spa, as well as do another round on our floor. The managers will also be giving the hotel a piece of their minds. This is a huge breach of the group's privacy and the company pays handsomely for discretion. This kind of error could lead to a huge lawsuit.

"Are you..." Jigaemae asks, stepping toward me. He rests a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Gwaenchana?"

I nod, trying to muster a bit of courage. "I think so. Just a little shaken. But, please...don't tell the guys. I don't want them to worry and they need to focus on the performance."

Jigaemae frowns and opens his mouth to protest but I quickly continue before he can utter a word to challenge my request.

"They can't do anything but worry. And I know...I know they're more worried about me than they let on. They want to be strong for me. This...this will make them afraid."

Jigaemae takes in my pleading eyes and my desperate tone and finally releases a sigh of surrender.

"Ok," he says. "Will not tell."

"Thank you. I...I really appreciate you. You're such a good friend to me and I...I'm glad I met you."

And then, without thinking, I step forward and wrap my arms around the petite manager, who stands there stiffly. Realizing my social flub, and how he's probably uncomfortable as hell, I quickly pull away and find that his face is beet red. Jigaemae nods and then mutters a promise to check in with me later then quickly heads for the door. But before he can clear it, he turns to me and gestures towards his head.

"Your...hair. I like."

I reflexively reach up to finger my shoulder-length textured bob and smile. "Thank you. You think the guys will be upset that I cut it?"

Jigaemae shakes his head. "They love you. All of you. So they love hair."

Then he leaves me with one last shy grin and exits the room.

And then the quiet gives way to loneliness. And the loneliness evokes fear.

I pull out my phone, desperate for some semblance of comfort to stave off the suffocating isolation, and tap out a text in the group chat, trying my best to hide that I'm still shaken from the events of the day.

Hi babies! I miss you!

Jm: miss you too