A few hours before the show started, Hobi found her again and took her backstage. There was a smorgasbord of food set up.
“Help yourself to anything you want. Please. I don’t want you starving, and the concert won’t be over until after 10:30. It’ll be close to midnight before we get out of here.”
She smiled up at him. “Hobi, you’re always thinking of me. You’re so considerate. I’m not really hungry right now.”
“It’ll be here for several hours. Feel free to wander back here anytime. Your pass will allow you access to this area. Even during the concert.”
She fingered the plastic rectangle hanging from the lanyard around her neck. She was holding a rare gem, something every ARMY in the world wished she could have. Instant access to any member of BTS. Hobi knew she had no idea of its value. He also believed she would never abuse her newfound power.
“Pretty soon, I have to start sitting through my hair and makeup sessions. It’s pretty boring, but you’re welcome to come back there with me. We can find you a comfortable chair and a magazine.”
Why would she want to look at a magazine when she could watch Hobi being decorated for his show? After all, his face was probably plastered all over those magazines. Wasn’t the real thing better than the flat image?
She smiled at his humility. “You really are just a regular guy, aren’t you?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. J-hope is just an image. I hope his positivity is a true reflection of my heart. But underneath the fancy clothes and the makeup, I’m still the same Jung Hoseok I’ve always been.”
“Well,” she leaned towards him and whispered secretly, “I like the real Jung Hoseok. I wouldn’t want him to change. Not one bit. Not even for the world.”
His lips stretched into a sweet smile. Then it faded as he continued to look at her. “Thank you.”
She drew her eyebrows together in a befuddled frown. “For what?”
“For seeing me.”
“I could say the same thing to you, Hobi.”
They stood staring at each other for a few moments, a shared look of understanding passing between them.
—
She spent the remainder of the afternoon enjoying sound check before she watched Hobi and his friends being made ready for the stage. It was fascinating to see all the hoops they had to jump through to get their hair so perfect and to have their faces painted and their flaws disguised. But it made her sad for some reason. Maybe because she delighted in the real Hobi. The one who was now hidden beneath layers of foundation, lipstick, and eyeshadow. She knew it was a necessary element of the stage. That his features had to be exaggerated for him to be seen by his fans who were seated hundreds of feet away from him. Still, she preferred the Hobi who had held her hand a little while ago and fed her breakfast this morning.
