lost in translation || BTS

he really likes me?

It felt warm, having him hug me like that. But it also felt wrong. I was betraying my boys BTS, as I latched myself on Jackson.

"I am such a big fan!" I screamed, not leaving my grasp on him. He was so much more cuter in real life, I cannot even begin to explain. His light blonde hair, his pink luscious lips, the way his earrings dangled when he was being hugged, and the way his muscles pooped out of the black tshirt.

Orgasm, stop.

"Oh, thank you. I'm happy to hear that." His English is just as sexy as Namjoon's, who by the way had his arm wrapped around the smaller boy.

"What're you doing here?" He asked, and I wondered why he'd have a conversation with Jackson in English. "To get laid." Jackson said, and Namjoon shook his head a little while laughing. "Fuckboy. You'll never change."

I don't know why, but it was weird for me to think that they'd had sex before. I just assumed that they were all virgins, for some reason. Like, they were too busy and famous to have sex with mere peasants. Did they date? I've barely heard any legitimate news of them dating. I've only seen one picture of Jimin with his girlfriend, and he was like 4. Okay, not exactly 4, but you know what I mean.

"Who's this prize anyway?" He asked him, once he'd thanked me again and they walked over to a lemonade stall. The rest of the boys were, yet again, busy being filmed and doing some weird dances. "Our new makeup artist." The flat voice that Namjoon displayed hurt me a little bit, considering the fact that I'd been getting a lot of attention so this introduction was a pull down. 

"Can I-"
"Don't even think about it."

That's what I'm talking about.

My cheeks flushed at the thought of Namjoon being possessive over me, but I knew it meant nothing. I'd said it before, they wouldn't possibly date someone as low as me. I'm a princess, yes, but I don't put myself on their level. I never could. They're too good.

"She's taken? I assume." I walked over to hand him a bottle of water although they were standing in front of a stall filled with much more appetising lemonade. I only wanted to hear them better, but this was such a stupid move. "Thank you. You're very kind."

I'm also very good in bed, but never mind.

I threw a big smile at him, before quickly walking back to the crew members. It was awkward to just stand and watch the busy streets. I wasn't able to make any friends. The Europeans were all talking to themselves, and even though I knew three of them, they didn't seem approachable because I was rude to that girl who hurt my Tae baby. The Koreans thought I didn't speak their language, plus the makeup artist bitch thought I was jealous of her, so there's that. Ae Ra was my only friend, but we were in a fight and I hadn't even seen her around. Ma wouldn't talk to me ever since we left the cab.

"Taehyung likes her a lot." I heard Namjoon say in between some other sentences. My heart skipped a few beats, before going plain blank. The dizziness of those words revolving in my brain took control over my body.

I did not hear that wrong, did I?

The worst part about being a foreigner who understands Korean is that I'm not always sure of what I hear. I'm mostly confused about the translation that I process in my mind.

"Really?" Jackson said, and I wished they'd speak in English now. They soon started talking about work load, after Jin and Yoongi joined them. We'd soon leave for the art museum, and Taehyung's happiness knew no bound. Taehyung; who liked me. Who really like me. Either that, or Taehyung smells trains. Or counts onions.

I chose to go with the most sane translation. I ran towards the dancing divas, and told them that they needed a retouch before stepping into the museum. But before they could follow me to the caravan, the Europeans crowded me and that one Korean makeup artist who was supposed to be my partner, ditched me too.

All the boys were soon seated underneath the shed as their makeup was being done, and I could do nothing but watch. I know, as long as I'm getting paid I shouldn't have a problem, but I'd feel guilty for accepting money that I did not sincerely earn. Plus, I loved doing their makeup, looking at them smile as they'd try to have a conversation with me. I wanted all of them to myself, I didn't want to share them.

"You...do my makeup." I heard a deep voice behind me. A jumped a little as it surprised me, and looked back to see Yoongi sipping on iced tea. I shook my head before smiling wider than usual. He made an awkward face indicating how weird he felt with my overly big smile.

I slowly wiped the sweat off his face and noticed that his makeup didn't wear off that much. Perhaps because he didn't involve himself in a lot of activities.

"Why are you wearing full sleeves?" I asked him, as I started doing his base and he continued to sip although there was only ice left in the glass. It took him some time to understand what I said, although I repeated myself slowly...twice. I was about to give up waiting for a reply, but then he answered.

"Tan...? Sun-tan?"
"Yes. That's indeed, what's it called." I said, while chuckling louder than usual. I have to stop being such a dumbfuck around him.

"Okay."

He doesn't even have to use full sentences to be an ultimate savage and hurt feelings. Although, I was privileged to be hurt by him.

"Aaaaand, you're done. Thank you, Yoongi....Oppa." I remembered not to bother him with my silliness anymore. He laughed a little, before walking away. His laugh is a complete contrast to his personality. Or maybe he doesn't show his real personality to strangers like me.

~

I don't understand paintings. They're either too weird or too simple. Kate loves art, and she once showed me this empty frame and told me that it sold for $3 million. Different people had different perspectives of that empty frame. To me, it would've been a loot, no doubt.

I cocked my head to the left trying to absorb what the painting before me was trying to portray. It was an ugly baby in the arms of an angel, and other ugly babies were staring at it. The ugly baby was smiling and the others were scowling. What even is this?

"It shows how love can change you."
I heard a voice call from behind me. I looked over to see Taehyung look at the painting like it was the most beautiful one he'd ever seen. That same emotion was plastered on his face as he gazed into my eyes. It almost felt as if he thought I was beautiful too.

"The other babies are jealous of him. And the one in the middle, although (I didn't understand what word he said, but I think it means evidently or precisely) not good looking, is happy because he has someone who loves him despite his face. He is finally free from all the (I hate myself for not knowing what he said next) (he said despise)"

He looked back at me expecting me to tell him what I think of the painting. But I don't know Korean, according to them.

What should I do?

"Idiot, she didn't get one word of what you said." Jimin smacked the back of his head, and chuckled. Taehyung's face fell at that realisation, but he continues to smile. He walked away without another word, and I was left alone. With that ugly painting.

Which now I loved.

—

I'm the ugly baby.