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Jimin was looking forward to tonight.  It was not a normal Saturday night.  He was going to enjoy a special dinner with his best friend.  He and Tae were in Paris with the rest of the members of their band, BTS.  Tomorrow was Jimin’s twenty-fourth birthday.  He and Tae had gotten away by themselves tonight to enjoy a little Parisian fine cuisine.  Their hotel was just around the corner from a cute, little cafe that had caught their eye, so they decided to walk to dinner.  Had they been clairvoyant, they would have chosen a different path.   

They had barely stepped from their hotel when a young fan detected their presence and tweeted a thousand other people their location.  Within a few moments, a crowd was forming behind them.  One of the people following them was acting in a menacing manner.  Jimin and Tae looked at each other in alarm, and without speaking they came to the same conclusion.  They took off running at the same time.  But at the next corner, Tae went right when Jimin moved left.

As Jimin ran the opposite direction from Tae, he wondered at how quickly they’d been identified.  Arriving only the night before, they had not announced they were coming to Paris and had been attempting to travel incognito.  Tonight he should have worn sunglasses and a hat like Tae, but Jimin was so tired of hiding.  He wanted to enjoy life, not act like he was in some sort of witness protection program.  But considering what had happened when he was here in August, he should have been more careful.  He privately castigated himself as he glanced back to see the crowd multiplying.  At least he was outrunning them.

He pivoted his head and looked forward just in time to catch a glimpse of red hair and gigantic emerald eyes before he collided with a girl with masses of auburn tresses.  He grabbed for her, pulling her into a safe embrace, and did a cool sort of flipping maneuver to protect her as they fell, and somehow he managed to land on his back with her coming down on top of him, nestled safely within the circle of his strong arms against his chest.  Briefly, she heard his heart thumping along loudly in her ear.

Blowing locks of auburn hair from his lips, Jimin did not take the time to enjoy holding the girl in his arms because he could hear the crowd approaching.  He released her and nearly pushed her up to her feet.

“Je suis désolé,” he murmured.  I’m so sorry.  “Allons-y.”  Let’s go!

The girl looked at him quizzically as he noted the approaching mob and pushed her off him gently.  Then he rose quickly and extended his hand to her.  She accepted it, and he hauled her unceremoniously to her feet before shouting in her face, “Run!”

That’s when she glanced in the direction he’d been looking.  Her eyes widened as she saw a mass of humanity headed their way.  Her mouth formed an amazed O, and she grabbed Jimin’s hand as he began to pull her down the street.

She was gasping, “My car is right there.”  She pointed in its general direction.  “Come on.  Let’s get out of here.”  She dropped his hand and made a beeline for her car.

As they both headed towards her car, a young woman reached Jimin and shoved him.  He fell forward over a curb and managed to twist his ankle somehow.  As he lay on the ground, her hand flew towards his face.  He flinched but failed to miss the destructive slash of her freshly manicured fingernails against his cheek.  

His newfound friend had unlocked her doors and shouted, “Get in the car!” 

Jimin didn’t need any more encouragement than that.  He pulled himself away from his attacker, running towards the car despite the sharp pain in his ankle.  He opened the car door and jumped in.  The crowd had begun to surround the car.  Before they could overtake its front, the redhead began to drive away.  Jimin hadn’t even closed the door all the way.  Clearly, his newfound friend was now as intent upon escaping as he was. 

She glanced his way and cringed.  “You’re covered in blood,” she spoke in perfect English with a fascinating Irish accent.

Jimin reached up to feel the slick surface of his face.  The woman’s French tips had sliced through the skin of his left cheek, unleashing a flow of blood that was now making its way down his neck, threatening his shirt.  He wiped his throat with his hand.  As he glanced down at his fingertips, he saw the crimson stain of his own lifeblood and felt a little nauseated.

“Hang in there.  My apartment is up ahead.  I’ll get you cleaned up and bandaged.”  She glanced over at him. “And possibly loan you a hat and some sunglasses.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have recognized him from the billboards announcing BTS earlier this past summer.  She wasn’t a fan of the band, but something about his picture had gripped her.

His sudden movement as he looked across at her sharply, followed by the words flowing from his mouth, confirmed her suspicions.

“You know who I am?”

“Not exactly. I don’t know your name, but I saw your picture once on a billboard.  And the mob was a clue too.  Though I can’t figure out what on earth you would have done that was so bad that a stranger would claw your face in that vicious manner.”

Jimin hung his head.  He didn’t understand it either.  And it hurt his heart.  This wasn’t the first time he’d been attacked.  He’d even received a death threat.  His dream in life was to dance and to reach people with his music and his words.  Why did that make some people crazy?  He just wanted to love people.  He wanted to bring them some comfort in a world gone mad.

She noticed his downcast face and reached out her hand.  She placed it on his arm, her fingertips gently enclosing his forearm.  

“Hey, it’ll be all right.  I’m sorry you had to endure that.  I’m sure you’re a kind person.  Sometimes people are just crazy.  It’s not your fault.”

He glanced up at her and fell headlong into the shining green pools she probably just called her eyes.  They were huge and round with double eyelids and gorgeous dark eyelashes that contrasted beautifully with the rich tones of her red hair.  As his eyes caressed her long tresses, he noticed that the dying sunlight streaming through the window momentarily highlighted strawberry blond, chestnut, and flaxen streaks in her hair in addition to the rich auburn that most of her head was sporting.  She was a real redhead then.  

He could feel a subtle heat radiating from her hand on his arm, and he felt immensely comforted by that sweet touch.  He received love through the sense of touch, so her hand was doing more to minister peace to him than even her voice was.

Her eyes left his to concentrate on the road.  She took a lot of twists and turns before circling back to her apartment.  She’d wanted to make sure they weren’t being followed.  She parked the car and reached behind her seat.

“Here,” she tossed him a jacket.  “Pull that up around your head until we are in my apartment.  I seem to remember something about your band being pretty popular.  I wouldn’t want anyone else to recognize you.”

Me neither. 

He pulled the jacket up around his shoulders and tried to bury his dirty blond head in it.  They both opened their car doors at the same time and emerged.  

As they walked towards her apartment, someone suddenly yelled, “Hey, you!”

Her heart skipping a beat, she looked up.