It took you two hours after getting home to convince Katy that you can't give her every little detail about your work. Finally, you're ready to take some time to unwind in the tub. While your tub fills up, you check your phone and see over 45 messages and calls from Gina. You decide you should probably call her back before you get into the tub if you ever hope to relax.

"Finally! I've been calling you all day, Y/N! What could you have been doing all day that was so important?! I mean, really! I'm not even sure I want to talk to you now. Maybe the big news I have for you just isn't important enough for you."

You roll your eyes at your mother's melodramatic monologue.

"Big news, huh? Did you find rich husband #5 today?"

Maybe you should pour yourself a glass of wine before you step into your warm, inviting bubble bath. Who are you kidding? This is Gina you're talking to. You're going to be taking the bottle into the bathroom with you.

"Don't you sass me, young lady! After everything I've done for you, you should show me more respect than that. Anyway, no, I didn't find a new husband for myself today. I ran into yours! Brett is still in love with you, you know. He even forgives you for your deplorable behavior and wants you back. Isn't that great?! You can finally give up on this hair-cutting scheme of yours and settle down where you belong."

The wine bottle in your hand slips from your numb fingers and shatters at your feet. Oh no! Not now. Please, not now. Not Brett! His angry voice fills your ears. You can feel his hands clamping around your throat again.

"Y/N! Are you even listening to me?! I'm trying to update you on your betrothed, you know."

"Mom, I have to go."

Shaking, you end the call and look down at your feet to see the destruction before you. Fat tears stream down your face as you scream to release your fear, your pain. You run to the bathroom, locking the door, and sit in a ball on the floor while you let everything out.

After you've cried until you have no tears left, you get off of the floor and go to the tub. The bubbles are all gone, and the water is ice cold. Damn. You have no choice but to let the water out.

Next, you start cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. You reach down to pick up some of the larger glass pieces and slice your left palm on one of them. Damn! You grab a towel and run back to the bathroom. You're bleeding all over your bathrobe and the floor, but you manage to staunch it and bandage it up. Great. Now you have to do your job with a bandage wrapped around your hand tomorrow. Good thing you wear gloves anyway, right? Maybe nobody will notice. You hope so.

After successfully cleaning your kitchen and blood trail, you decide to just take some melatonin and go to bed. After such a great day, it would just figure that your mother could ruin your night with one phone call. One of these days, you'll be able to have a good day from start to finish.

You tossed and turned all night long with memories of your past, despite the medicine. You were already awake staring at the ceiling when your alarm went off. You release an exasperated sigh and grab your phone to dismiss it. You roll out of bed, start your coffee pot, and head for the shower.

The shower helps you feel a little better and, by the time you've finished your coffee, you've decided that it's a new day and you have to leave your past where it belongs. After all, it's not like your mother can FORCE you to engage with him again. Knowing Gina, she probably only heard what she wanted to of the conversation, and he really doesn't want you back. Good! Good riddance!

You dress a bit more casual today, knowing you'll be working with dye. You are still expected to look good, though, so you put on a pair of fitted jeans, a dark graphic tee, and put your long, dark hair into a French braid to keep it out of your face. You opt for a pair of black Pumas, smiling to yourself about the irony. Sure, they're 3 years old, but they still shine, and you know you'll be more comfortable for such a busy day.

Putting on your makeup was a bit trickier today. You could see the lack of sleep in the mirror. Thankfully, your best friend is a makeup artist extraordinaire, so you know how to fix that. You think about calling her to tell her what happened but decide against it. It'll only bring you down again, and you need to focus. You're going to be spending the morning training the crew on how to perform your illusion colors today before applying it to the men of BTS. THAT is what you should be thinking about.

Unfortunately, your brain isn't being cooperative. After washing your makeup off twice to restart it, you give up on any color and just try to cover up your dark circles. You do the best you can and head out the door. Maybe one of the makeup artists at work can help you before everyone else comes in. Saline is usually there early, from what you understand, and she's been working with the guys for years. Maybe she can help.

Waiting at your bus stop doesn't prove to be helping your mood, either. You go through your social media on your phone while you wait, and some asshole decides to toss out his coffee in your direction. Intentional or not, you're pissed off and soaked. No time to go back and change, though. Here's your bus. Again, you don't notice the man sitting on the bench that doesn't get on the bus.

Before getting to work, there's an accident ahead of you, delaying your arrival. This is so not happening today of all days. Now you're tired, stressed, and sticky from someone else's coffee. Just what you need!

You finally walk in the lobby doors and hope to see Frannie's smiling face. Maybe she'll make you feel better. Wait. Who the hell is this? The young Latina woman at the desk doesn't appear happy to be here, and you really don't have the time to find out where your friend is. You head straight to the elevators, disappointed.

You manage to enter the studio with no further incidents. Still, all eyes are on you as you walk in ten minutes late, no makeup, sticky, and slouching from exhaustion. Let's not forget about the bandage wrapped around your hand.

"What happened to you?! Your late and all sticky. Are those bags under your eyes," Saline inquires with eyes widened in shock.

Before you respond, Berto exits his office with his hands on his hips. It doesn't look good to be this late on your second day. You slump your shoulders and bow your head in shame. So much for earning the title of Assistant.

"I know I'm late, Humberto. I'm so sorry. This is not my day, and I won't bother you with any excuses. I'll be here on time from now on."

You look up at your boss, and he sees your condition. He immediately softens and pulls you into a sink chair. Your breath whooshes out at the impact of hitting the chair.

"What the hell happened to you, Sweetie? You're a hot mess! You don't look like you're having a good day at all. Don't you worry about a thing. We'll fix you right up while you tell us everything. Saline, makeup! Steph, coffee, and Greg call the Fashion department to see if they can send us some spare clothes for our girl to change into. Let's start by washing this stuff off of your face and out of your hair."

While they all mill around to fuss over you, you begin to cry and tell them everything that happened this morning. You leave out why you couldn't sleep, of course, but it feels good to let some of it out. You even manage to make a joke out of your situation and give a small smile.

Steph hands you a large coffee and pastry from downstairs while Glenn from fashions waltzes in with a rack of clothes for you to try on.

"I heard we have a fashion emergency in here today. I have just what you need! Thank goodness your shirt is black and won't stain. Just put your clothes into this bag, and I'll make sure you get everything back clean by the end of the day. I can't stay because the guys are in there getting measured right now, but I'll send one of my people to get the rack out of your way soon. Good luck!"

"Thank you, again. I can't believe you've all rushed to help me, and you don't even know me that well."

Berto takes your face into his soft, well-manicured hands.

"Honey, we artists have to stick together. We're all a family, and I'm sure you'd do the same for us, too. Think I could borrow this blouse for the club Friday, Glenn? This color will make the green in my eyes just POP."

Glenn leans back in a boisterous laugh. "We'll discuss that later. It's only Tuesday, you know."

By the time you change into a pair of ripped black jeans and a dark purple, wide-shouldered top with a cute little panda on the front, you only have an hour before the first string of members arrive. At least your makeup looks fresh now. The crew is all working on setting up for the day, gossiping about their weekends, lovers, and the latest celebrity news.

The door opens before you know it, and a smiling Jungkook walks in, followed by Jimin and V.

"Good morning! Where do you want us?"

Jungkook speaks slowly, but you note how his English has improved in the last four years since you've been following them. Saline begins giving them instructions in their native language, flawlessly mind you, and the guys fall in line. Since today is about getting their hair colored and cut for tomorrow's impromptu shoot, the makeup artists help the rest of you with running for supplies or cleaning up. They seem to be a reasonably well-oiled machine, considering this is their first project together. Things seem to be going well. Then, the door opens again to reveal Hobi and Namjoon.

You currently have Taehyung in your chair, almost finished with his color application, and look up at your mirror to see who's come in behind you. Your eyes immediately lock onto Namjoon's, and it's like time has frozen. He smiles shyly at you, flashing those sexy dimples, and looks you up and down. You blush and, shakily, finish up with Tae's hair.

"Mr. Kim, I'll be finishing with Mr. Jeon's hair in a moment, then you'll be in my chair. Mr. Jung will be in Greg's chair once he's finished with Mr. Park, and Mr. Min will be with Y/N after he arrives. Stephanie, will you please make sure they have something to drink while they wait."

As Taehyung stands up from your chair, Namjoon takes the opportunity he was hoping for.

"Actually, if you don't mind, Y/N can take care of me since she's finished with V now."

He shoots you his charming smile, and you can't help but blush. Berto looks between you and Namjoon, then shrugs.

"That works, too, I suppose."

Out of Namjoon's line of sight, Berto shoots you a warning look, and you subtly shake your head, signaling you had nothing to do with this. He smiles and shakes his head as he returns to his work. You finish cleaning and prepping your station while Namjoon sits in your chair, watching you closely through the mirror in front of him.

You reach for your gloves, and he notices your hand. Then he looks closer into your eyes, concern etching his face.

"Are you ok? What happened to your hand?"

"Just a kitchen accident. I was cleaning up some broken glass and cut myself. I'm a bit clumsy myself sometimes."

He chuckles but still looks concerned. He looks down at the hands in his lap while he continues.

"I know what you mean there. You look tired, too, though. Late night with your boyfriend?"

"God no! I haven't been in a relationship since I started school at Aveda three years ago," you say with a nervous chuckle.

Why did you say that? Now you sound like a loser that can't get a date. Granted, you never seem to get past the first date, but you don't want him to know that.

"I'm sorry if I offended you yesterday, Y/N. I didn't mean to."

He looks apologetic and even a bit embarrassed about it. How will you explain to him that you turned down his offer at dinner with him and the guys only because you don't want to lose your job? After all, they are the ones that inspired you to reach for this dream. Hell, it was their music that helped you finally love yourself enough to leave Brett in the first place.

"You didn't offend me, Mr. Kim, honestly. It's just that there's a 'no fraternization' clause in our contracts, and this job is everything to me right now. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize it."

You're both talking quietly enough that you don't think you can be overheard through all of the typical salon noises going on around you. Good thing, too, because you don't know how any of the others would react to you having been offered to have dinner by the guys. Jealous? Disappointed you didn't go and dish out all of the details? Quick to snitch with a false accusation? Who knows?

"Ah. That. Yeah, we were reminded about that, too. It's more of a discouragement than a rule to keep you guys from stalking us, rather than the other way around, honestly. They're a bit protective of their idols here but, we've known Saline for years and have hung out with her many times. Haven't we Saline?"

"Speaking of which, I still need to send you the pictures I found from your second comeback."

Eyes wide in a panicked shock, he waves his hands back and forth.

"No need, Saline! Really."

You laugh while you swing the cape around him. He lifts up his chin to give you better access and smiles at you.

"Maybe we could try again sometime, Y/N? I hear there's a great steak house about 2 blocks away."

"Um. I don't know. It sounds good, but..."

"Great! I'll meet you by the elevators at 6?"

He looks at you through the mirror with an expression that says he's not taking no for an answer this time. You look at Humberto and see he's suspiciously engrossed in getting prepped for Suga's turn in his chair. What the hell? Why not?

"In that case, I'll make sure I'm there by 6."

The rest of the day is filled with chatter and the guys all goofing with each other. You and your crew work tirelessly to finish their new looks. You finish with Namjoon, who has been a great client and step back to admire your work. He's turned away from the mirror while you move this hair here and that hair there, watching your face the whole time.

"You really do enjoy this work, don't you?"

You blush and nod while you finish spraying his hair into place.

"I really do. I didn't have many friends growing up, but I always tried new hairstyles on them or my dolls, even myself. Then, when I grew up and realized that there was a world of color to play with, too, I was sunk. Now, I'm taking this new technique that I created, and I'm applying it to you guys. Everyone in the world will see my look, and I can't help but feel proud of that, you know?"

"I do know. I felt the same way when we first started out, too. Writing our music, recording it, and then hearing it played was the most incredible feeling in the world."

You look into each other's eyes again, and now you feel a tightness in your chest that, for once, isn't anxiety or nerves. Neither of you wants to look away, and it feels, once again, like time is frozen. Until Jimin comes over to talk excitedly to Namjoon. He laughs and asks if he can see the finished result now. You remove his cape and turn his chair with a proud look on your face.

"Wow! You said you created this technique? The pictures from the presentation yesterday didn't do it justice."

He moves his head from side to side, inspecting the color movement of his hair in the mirror, and you feel proud of yourself. Not bad for a day that started off terrible. He winks at you through the mirror, smiling. You roll your eyes at him, already feeling a comfortable sense of familiarity and friendliness with this man. Have you really only known him since yesterday? Though, in a way, you've known him on a certain level for years now since he is your bias.

The other guys try to drag him away, but he still takes the time to whisper close to your ear.

"Don't forget about me tonight, Y/N. I'll be watching the clock for the next 2 hours."

You don't know what to say to that. All you know is the feeling of Namjoon's breath close to your ear. A heat that blooms in your belly raises toward your cheeks, and you respond in a breathy tone.

"How could I possibly forget?"

With that, his guys drag him out, and everyone left is looking between you and Berto. A blush flows across your cheeks, so you turn back to your vanity to put things away.

"What was that about, Y/N," Berto asks, hand on his jutted out hip.

"What was what?"

He lets out a burst of laughter and shakes his head at you while he moves to clean up the salon with the rest of the crew.

"At least he was able to clarify the clause for us. That being said, you go, gurl!"

After everything is cleaned up, you all start to pack up the supplies you'll need to take with you for the photoshoot tomorrow across town. It'll be an outdoor shoot, so you'll need to accommodate for possible wind and humidity. You look up at the clock and see you only have 15 minutes to change and make it downstairs.

"Did the fashion crew ever bring back my clothes for me to change into?"

Saline creases her brow in thought. "No, I don't believe they did."

"They called and said they fell behind with a few things today and won't get the clothes back to you until tomorrow. You can just wear those home and bring them back with you. Or take something else off of the rack. It's still here, and I doubt they're coming back for it," Steph replies without looking up from the inventory list you made for her.

"Oh. Are you sure they won't mind if I change into something else?"

"Oooo! You should put this one on. The shape would be perfect for your body, and the purple would go great with your eyes," Humberto says, now in full shopping mode.

"Only if you wear these shoes with it, though," Saline pipes in, gaining a nod of approval from Berto.

You can't believe the comradery you already feel with this group. You take the outfit and change quickly while they congratulate themselves on such a well-selected look and push you out the door. You suspect they overheard your conversation, after all, and know exactly where you're going.

"Bye, everyone. Thanks again!"