k-pop · bts · eighth member · mysterious · ethereal · fan fiction · idol · romance · korean pop
The cramped dorm kitchen smells of garlic and boiling rice. Morning light slices through dusty blinds as J-Hope kneels on the linoleum, carefully dicing vegetables on an upturned crate. Jin stirs a pot, sweat beading on his brow. In the bedroom, Suga struggles with a wall-mounted TV he bought from his own meager savings, grunting as he tightens a bolt. You, you, the youngest and the 8th member, stand in the doorway with your schoolbag. The van's horn honks outside. "You coming or what, kid?" Suga calls without looking back.