I slammed face-first into a wall. Landings never had been my 'thing', as my best friends and fellow trainees had been happy to point out. The wall was not in a pleasant mood- it smacked me directly on the nose, sending a liberal squirt of blood shooting across the already red bricks. I cursed softly (ok, not so softly) and stuck my black, rather bashed recorder in my black, rather bashed backpack, attempting to fix my black-and-blue, rather bashed nose.

I think you get the picture. See, I've never been good at landings. I must've been asleep during that lesson because I had not once in my life landed well. My instructor, nicknamed Mrs. Saiab, as in stay-away-I'm-a-complete-bitch, had always tried to pound the grace of jumping into my head, but had never succeeded. Instead I had learned everything and more about History and nothing about jumping. More on that later, back to me stumbling around like a blind idiot.

The blood was literally gushing from my nose now, getting all over my sweaty gray shirt. I wiped at the mess, eyes stinging and filling with tears as I accidentally brushed a particularly tender bit of my nose. Grabbing the package of linen bandages my best friend Lin had packed for me, knowing how prone to injury I was. I wrapped it tightly across my nose, trying not to cry out as it pressed painfully against the broken flesh.

Right. Time to figure out where the heck I am. I managed to retrieve my glasses from the grip of my tangled h/c hair, and fixed them on the bandage, peering around at my surroundings. Unfortunately, besides the wall I had recently become acquainted with, there were two boys, perhaps in their late teens, staring at me as if I had dropped from the sky, which, interestingly enough, I had.

"Hi!" I said, grinning, waving, blood still dribbling down my chin. Glancing down at my battered watch, I almost fell over. 2013? Oh, by History! That's not within the 70 year rule... my wave became slightly less enthusiastic as the reality sunk in. See, anyone with common sense doesn't jump within 70 years in either direction, otherwise you might find yourself in a rather bad situation with your direct kin. And only 4 years? That was the stupidest thing I had ever done, which was saying something.

"Are... you ok?" I jerked, realizing I had been staring off into Space. I smiled awkwardly at the boys, one of whom had posed the tentative question with a heavy accent.

"Nope, not at all." My smile tightened as the throbbing beat in my nose grew frantically. The boys' brow's furrowed. "Look, sorry. Just, well, I was never here? Ok?" I flashed a thumbs up, readying to jump when a hand landed on my shoulder. Spinning with the grace of a lion, I slammed a fist into my assailant's gut, watching him stumble backwards, red-orange hair falling in front of his eyes as he choked, winded.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I hissed, feeling only the slightest twinge of regret at the pain on his face.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." The other, younger with darker hair, grabbed Orange and pulled him back, looking absolutely terrified.

"Right, you must be Korean?" Bless History. Since I'd been raised in Korea, I could speak Korean fluently, but having just come from Japan, it was a moment before I could fully regain grasp on my handle of the language.

"Oh, yes." The dark-haired Korean smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. There was a long moment of silence as I debated on what to do. On one hand, I was in danger of dying at any moment, as History does not like Historians mussing about with Continuum. But on the other hand, I had just assaulted a time-native who deserved an explanation.

"Look, I'm sorry, I can't really tell you legally why I'm here and what I'm doing, so I'll..." I had finally taken a moment to look at their faces, and I wanted to choke, just as Taehyung had a moment ago. Bile rose in my throat. History was going to kill me for this. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind. I was interacting with members of a band who, this very year and onward, would change hundreds of lives. "...um, I'll... well, I'm Lois. Lane. Ahem." My words came out in a jumbled mess, and I felt something twist within me at the sheer ridiculousness of the faux name.

"Jungkook, and this is Tae." Jungkook waved to Tae, who eyed me warily.

"Sorry about that... Tae." Suddenly I became enterally grateful to the linen obscuring most of my now beet-red face. "I, well, usually when someone grabs me like that, it's not with good, um..." I trailed off, my feet suddenly becoming one of the most intriguing things I'd ever seen.

"It's fine, I'm fine," Taehyung said, attempting a smile. "We didn't mean to... interrupt?" It was a question, as if he wasn't quite sure what he and Jungkook had been interrupting- a suicide attempt, drunk or high.

"No, no. It's ok." The pause stretched on until I finally decided to throw the rules back to hell, as per usual. Reaching forward, I grabbed their shoulders- not roughly, just to hold them in place. "Listen. I can't tell you anything about what just happened because I will be killed for it. But I can't tell you this: keep fighting. Don't give up. Not today. Keep going. Give your dream everything- sweat for it, cry for it, bleed for it. Work while the others play. Don't be afraid to fight for what you want. You're going to get there." I winked, trying not to laugh at their stunned faces, then let go and jumped.