Chapter 40

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This is it guys, the final chapter in this story. Thank you so much for reading it. If you haven't yet, please leave some love in the comments to let me know what your favourite parts were, or if you'll ever forgive me for what I put Narae through!! And remember to follow me for more stories coming soon. 


EPILOGUE

Maybe other gigs, for other artists, in other stadiums suffered from teething problems, and so-called technical hitches. But not BTS at SoFi stadium, kicking off the north American leg of a four-month tour. No, this wasn't happening. It wasn't allowed to. But of course it was, because Namjoon was involved.

"Fuck!" Narae growled under her breath, still sort of riffling through the case of spare microphones that had made the journey with the rest of the tech pack. She knew it was useless. Everyone knew these spare mics were all duds, and she recognised each one of them for their faults. Why did they even bring these with them anymore? They only carried false hope.

"Fuck." She swore again, deciding the answer wasn't in this trunk. Either they'd have to procure another mic, send it to the cordis to be rhinestoned and hope it was up to the job, or else Namjoon wouldn't be heard by his audience tonight.

"Where are you?" The Walkie Talkie clipped to her side buzzed at her. She sat back on her haunches, sighing and lifted the radio up.

"I'm here. There's nothing spare."

"Back to the stage then." The voice replied.

Narae straightened out the cases again, quietly vowing never to waste her time looking in the spares box again, then skidded out the room. As she navigated the slim corridors, which were becoming familiar after four days of tech rehearsals, she tried not to break into a run. She did this partly because it was much safer to walk when you never knew who or what might be around a corner, but also because the team made enough fun of her as it was. Her boundless energy for the job was infectious but also begged to be teased.

She bounded round the last corner, emerging from the dark warren of tunnels and out into the bright California sunshine.

Stages sometimes have a way of looking quite small from the perspective of the crowd, but much like sports pitches, when you're actually on them, they're enormous. It took another few seconds of hurrying – never running – across the staging blocks before she skidded to a halt in front of Taehong and their other teammate, Charlie.

"Anything?" Charlie asked.

"No, I've looked and relooked. God knows what he's done with it!" Taehyong lamented, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"You?"

"No." Narae answered regretfully. "The spares are useless, I don't know why we bring them. We're going to have to actually buy one from somewhere."

"And just hope it's up the job. I'll have to go, none of the intern would know what specs to get."

The three continued to check each other's thinking, making sure there was no other option before all agreeing.

"Okay. I'll tell boss. Charlie, you tell Noona they'll have to decorate it as soon as it gets here. We only have..." He checked his watch, "Four hours to go until final sound."

Charlie nodded then looked at Narae. "You tell Namjoon-ssi."

"What?" Narae squawked. "Why me?"

Both of the other men gave her incredulous looks and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, it's not like he can tell you off." Taehong argued.

"Ha!" Narae spluttered indignantly. Namjoon was perfectly capable of disciplining Narae. But that maybe wasn't what Taehong had meant, and he didn't really need to know about all that. She admitted defeat and skulked off to find her absent-minded soulmate.

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