XVIII

POV: YN

The plane hummed softly beneath me, the seatbelt sign glowing dimly as we began our slow descent toward Paradise—Las Vegas. I stared out the window, the desert landscape stretching endlessly below, a golden haze cast by the morning sun pooling over the mountains.

Next to me, Maru-ya was already in full work mode, his tablet open, stylus tapping, lips muttering time slots and commitments.

"Okay," he began, not looking up, "deep breath, YN. Here's what the next one and a half months in the U.S. look like."

I half-listened, half-dissolved in my own thoughts.

"You'll be based across four cities: Paradise—Nevada, Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York. In each place, you'll film a few RUN – Our Universe episodes. The boys also have concerts in each city—ten nights total. But be aware, your time is scheduled around their core activities. Which include..."

He paused, scrolling dramatically.

"...the MET Gala, Jimmy Fallon, Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, a couple of private events, charity appearances, and more. All theirs. Not yours. But you'll need to know the windows, so we can slot in your shoots accordingly."

I nodded automatically. "Got it."

But he wasn't done.

"Also... expect a lot of RUN filming. The new format's heavier on interaction, more out-in-the-world stuff. This isn't the studio version anymore. You're basically the country guide. A bridge. Between the boys and ARMY."

That made me lift my head.

"You mean like..."

"Exactly like," he said. "Every place you stop, you'll introduce them to what ARMY in that country would have dreamed to show them themselves—where to eat, what to see, how to say basic things in the language, cool traditions, that sort of stuff. Fun. Personal. Educational. Entertaining. You're the translator between cultures. The soul in the middle. That's the show's pitch: RUN BTS – Our Universe. One group, one ARMY, many worlds."

A strange warmth prickled up my spine. I wasn't just part of the show. I was part of the connection.

I nodded slowly. "Okay. That... actually sounds amazing."

"You better believe it is," he muttered. "And you'll be amazing too."

I smiled faintly, but my eyes drifted back to the window.

Because none of that explained why Namjoon hadn't looked at me once on the entire flight.

He was there, three rows down, headphones on, journal open, eyes averted. Cold. Controlled. Like I wasn't even in the same sky.

Maybe I wasn't.

Maybe I was falling.

We landed. The Nevada heat greeted us like an open oven, dry and unapologetic. Cameras followed discreetly, staff guiding us through the back entrance of the Waldorf Astoria Las Vegas, a sanctuary of elegant minimalism, floor-to-ceiling glass, and calm.

The moment we stepped into the cool marble lobby, we were handed our key cards, led to our suites, and promised a two-hour break before the first episode went live.

I barely had time to drop my bag before I heard thudding down the hallway—fast, chaotic footsteps.

Then—

Bang, bang, bang.

I opened the door to chaos.

"YN-AH!!" Taehyung beamed, carrying a massive blanket that trailed behind him like a cape. "We come bearing gifts."

Behind him: Jimin with a tray of snacks, Hobi with drinks, Jungkook with his arms already wide open, Yoongi carrying a speaker, Jin with two more pillows than necessary.

And Namjoon—at the end of the line. Slower. Quieter.

Our eyes met for half a second before he looked away, stepping into the room with the rest.

"I—what's happening?" I blinked.

"It's airing in twenty minutes," Jimin said, already fluffing the couch cushions. "Episode one!"

"We're watching it together. No arguing," Jungkook declared, settling in like it was his own living room.

"Sacred moment," Seokjin added, dramatically falling onto the floor mattress.

"...We also wanted to see your face when it happens," Yoongi mumbled, setting up the speaker for better surround.

I turned to Namjoon, suddenly nervous.

He still hadn't said anything.

Until now.

"Hope you don't mind we invaded," he said softly.

His voice was low, unreadable—but something flickered in his eyes when they met mine.

Was that regret? Apology? Hesitation?

"No," I said quickly. "I'm glad you're here."

He nodded once, then sat quietly in the corner of the couch, arms folded.

The lights dimmed. We pulled the blanket up over our legs. I squeezed between Jimin and Taehyung, who immediately held my hands like nervous siblings about to see their report card.

And then...

The episode began.

Cue a soft piano intro. Fade in to BTS—each member in their solo, casual space. Warm lights, relaxed fits, close camera angles.

Jungkook, wide-eyed and grinning: "ARMY! We're back! Did you miss us? Because we missed you!"

Seokjin, with a playful wink: "Prepare your hearts—this isn't just any RUN BTS season..."

Taehyung, softly serious, his smile a little wistful: "This one is special. A new journey. A new story."

Yoongi, quiet but grounded: "We wanted to do something different. Something meaningful."

Hoseok, hands forming a heart: "This season, we're running—but through your world."

Jimin, leaning close to the lens: "We wanted to explore places through your eyes, ARMY."

Finally, Namjoon.

He stepped into the frame slowly, a city skyline behind him, hair wind-swept, expression grounded.

Namjoon, calm and thoughtful, city skyline behind him:"This time, it's not just RUN BTS. It's RUN BTS – Our Universe. Because our universe isn't just seven—it's all of you."

The screen cuts to a soft visual montage—ARMY from around the world, concert footage, letters, drawings, laughter.

Namjoon (voice-over) continues:"We realized that our story is only complete with yours. So... in this season, we travel not just to new countries, but into the hearts of the ARMYs who live there."

Jungkook again:"And we needed someone to guide us."

Taehyung, softly smiling:"A bridge between cultures. Between us and you."

Jimin:"She's not an idol. She's not on a stage. But she is one of us."

Cue a soft montage.

Photos of me meeting them for the first time. Clips from rehearsals, clumsy dancing, awkward giggles. Footage of me walking through city streets alone, holding a map and talking to the camera. My voiceover kicked in—trembling and unsure:

"Hello everyone! I'm not an idol. I'm not perfect. But I'm here... for you. For ARMY. For all the parts of the world that deserve to be seen. "

Then back to the boys—group shot.

Yoongi: "She shows us what you would have shown us if we were walking next to you."

Jin, with a bright smile: "She brings your laughter. Your curiosity. Your soul."

Hoseok: "So each episode, she'll guide us through a new country. Show us what to do, eat, see, feel, and experience—as if you were taking us by the hand."

Namjoon, finishing: "She's our link to ARMY around the world. Our guide. Our eighth. Please open your hearts to her—the way we did. Not just for ARMY... but for her."

A beat."She is part of us now. Because you are."

Jimin, whispering with a grin: "Ready to run with us again?"

All together (cut montage, in unison): "Let's go. Welcome to RUN BTS – Our Universe."

The episode kicks off with zero warning — BTS barging into ARMY's — my— apartment  in Seoul like a pack of overgrown puppies. Jungkook picks the lock. Taehyung is armed with a bubble gun. Me mid-toast, wearing whale socks and absolutely not ready for cameras.

Cue immediate screaming and laughter.

They drag me (gently) on a chaotic, very BTS version of a Seoul tour: snack stalls, hidden cafés, their favorite hangouts — no scripts, no staff, just the eight of us loose in the city. There's a blindfolded snack test (I fail every round), a rooftop dance-off, and a karaoke moment that ends in everyone ugly crying to "Spring Day."

They call me "ARMY," never by name — but it's already clear I'm theirs. They tease me, protect me, fight over who gets to sit next to me. I call Yoongi "grumpy sunshine" and live to tell the tale.

Best quote of the episode? Jin, dead serious: "If she replaces me as the visual, I'm suing."

By the end, we're curled up on our rooftop, laughing over fried chicken, with Namjoon softly saying:

"She's not just part of the show. She's part of us. The eighth."

I burst into tears.

Right there, between Jimin and Taehyung, with the camera rolling, with all their warmth pressed around me—I wept.

It wasn't loud or dramatic. It was the quiet kind of crying that shakes you from the inside out. Like something unlocking. Like a door you didn't know you were pressing against swinging wide open.

"I didn't know..." I whispered. "I didn't know you said all that."

Jimin hugged me tightly. "We meant every word."

"They won't hate you," Taehyung whispered. "They'll love you. You're... you."

"I didn't think you'd call me that," I murmured. "The eighth."

"You are," Yoongi said plainly, from the floor. "Even when you forget it."

I looked up—through the blur, to where Namjoon sat.

He hadn't moved. But he was watching me now.

Really watching.

And something in his gaze cracked wide open.

He looked like he was about to say something.

But he didn't.

He just reached over.

And took my hand.