“Why are those Korean boys going around talking to random girls?”
You shifted your sunglasses down your nose, trying to get a clear look at the men on the street under the bright Los Angeles sun. One had reddish hair. Your eyes flicked over to the cameras they carried, then back up, and you flicked your sunglasses back into place with a dismissive ‘tch’. You figured they were YouTubers or stars from their country trying to gain fame in America.
“They’re probably Asian celebrities,” you answered, your tone flat.
“Girl, they are *super* cute!!!” (Y/F/N) gasped. “And they’re headed this way!!!”
Your friend’s squeal made you flinch, and you grumbled under your breath. You glanced at (Y/F/N), who was frantically smoothing her outfit, determined to look her best for the approaching men. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall—you were used to your friend’s obsession with foreign guys. You didn’t even bother to care anymore.
“Hey, my name is Jin,” the one with reddish hair said, a charming smile spreading across his face.
They had a noticeable Korean accent. It made you cringe. You’d lived in America for so long, your own accent had vanished. Even your parents’ had changed over time.
“Nice to meet you, Jin…”
Of course, your American friend thought it was adorable. You rolled your eyes and looked away, mortified as the black-haired male stepped forward. You were biting your tongue so hard you feared you’d draw blood.
“I’m Jimin,” he said, flashing a flirtatious smirk.
You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You tucked your hands into your pockets and looked at him through your dark sunglasses. He was smiling at you. You forced a fake smile in return and nodded, hoping to make your disinterest clear. They had no idea how much you wanted to escape this situation.
“We really want to take… uhm… a picture with you,” Jin hesitantly asked, holding up a pink Polaroid camera.
No. You couldn’t endure this torture any longer.
“Yah,” you stated in Korean, “We don’t even know who you are, and we’re just tired from walking around LA all day.”
Their expressions froze. Silence descended as they absorbed your almost fluent Korean. Jimin’s jaw tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. He was fighting to control his reaction.
“So it would be nice if you asked other people to be in your picture,” you said through clenched teeth.
You gave them a blank stare before linking your hand with (Y/F/N)’s. You offered a polite bow—almost an apology—then walked with your friend. Just because you’d grown up in America didn’t mean you’d forgotten your manners.
“(Y-Y/N)! What did you say to him?!” (Y/F/N) asked, sensing the anger radiating off you.
“It’s nothing, let’s just go.”
The boys gave you both a curious look; Jimin looked furious, Jin utterly confused. They watched you walk away, stunned, their lips parted in disbelief. They hadn’t expected that.
“What a mean person,” Jimin grumbled, hating how you’d spoken to him informally, and impolitely.
They’d never been spoken to like that before. It was a stark contrast to the compliments and adoration they usually received.
“(Y/N), you were so mean to them! Jimin and Jin were super cute.”
“Eh, I’ve seen cuter guys,” you mumbled, tucking your hands deeper into your pockets.
(Y/F/N) bit her lip, wanting to change the topic to something happier. She hated it when you were this angry—your fury was terrifying.
“Gosh, you’re so lucky moving to Korea in a few weeks. You’ll see cute guys everywhere,” she sighed blissfully.
“Yeah, yeah… Let’s just go home.”
You tightened your grip on (Y/F/N)’s arm and pulled her toward your apartment. It had been the most awkward encounter imaginable. You didn’t want to meet them again—hopefully, you wouldn’t. Your grip tightened around (Y/F/N)’s wrist, and you glanced back. They were still standing there, one of them holding the Polaroid camera up.
Maybe your friend was right—they were kind of cute.
The two were watching you walk away, lost in thought. Jimin almost mad, Jin completely confused out of his mind. They watched you walk away in complete shock, their lips parted. They really hadn’t expected that.
“Did you seriously take a picture of her, hyung?!” Jimin gasped.
The said male felt a slap against his chest, making him grunt.
“She turned around. It was just something I automatically did!” Jin tried to reason, glaring at his donsaeng for hitting him.
Jimin snatched the printed picture from the polaroid, and shook the photo to develop the color. His band mate's eyes snapped toward him and leaned over to look at his shot. He was curious, after all -- it was an accidental shot; he would be surprised if it came out nicely.
Wow...
A strand of your (H/L) hair had been blown across your face, a few strands of (H/C) clinging to your lip balm. Your pink lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were visible through your dark sunglasses. You were the focal point, no one else. Both of them were completely stunned by the sight. They’d never seen true beauty until this accidental picture.
“Lucky shot…”
A FEW WEEKS LATER—
You embraced your brunette friend in a tight hug. It was finally time to move to Korea, and you weren’t eager at all. It had been years since you’d visited, and you didn’t want to start over with new friends.
“I’m going to miss you (Y/N). Make sure to Skype me every weekend, okay?” (Y/F/N) sniffed.
“I will, I will,” you replied shakily.
“Oh, and make sure to text me when you reach there! Send me pictures of your house as well—”
You covered (Y/F/N)’s mouth with your hand, silencing her rambling. It was something she always did to keep herself from crying, and you always shut her up.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll do everything you told me yesterday,” you explained calmly, offering a reassuring smile.
Removing your hand from (Y/F/N)’s scrunched-up face, you held onto the handle of your suitcase. Your grip was tight, and your smile was twitching. It felt like your heart was breaking.
“Dammit, (Y/F/N),” you mumbled sadly, realizing how much you would miss her.
One last, tight hug was shared between you two.
“I’ll miss you so much. Take care.”
You finally pulled away, holding hands until you reached airport security and your gate. Your heart throbbed in your chest.
Korea, here I come…