Starman | BTS 8th Member | *ੈ✩‧₊˚(editing)

65.

It happened again. Makeup artists and hair stylists want me dead. Another meeting about my hair. At some point I knew it was over for me. Especially when I spotted a razor in one bag.

The other members had disappeared and I felt like I had been abandoned. Left to die. Left to GO BALD.

And Namjoon, who was known for always checking up on me, had also disappeared.

"Mr James?" someone called, their voice was strict, meaning they must be powerful. Oh no. I patted my head and I started to walk in a different direction. And what the hell is 'Mr James' anyway.

"Sorry I'm just going to throw myself off a cliff" I mumbled power walking to a bathroom.

I stayed in the bathroom for 20 minutes, trying to savour the moments I had with my hair. It had only reached the bottom of my neck. I'll probably go to sleep bald.
God, it's like going to the military.

I could now put it all into a ponytail. And little pig tails. But no, some evil people are going to come in and shave me like a sheep.

I heard knocking on the door.

"Go away, I don't want my hair cut!" I mumbled as I tried to tuck my laces inside my shoes.

The person who knocked on the door finally came in, catching me off guard.

I heard footsteps approaching me from behind while i stared at my shoes. Death. 

"Hey I've been looking everywhere for you!" a deep voice called to me. I looked up as they crouched down. "You're Jisung right?"

My heart rate picked up and I felt myself going red with rage.

"We could have made a good impression if you didn't hide under the sink".

"im not under-"

"I'm lee suhoo, I'm your makeup artist and hair stylist, an all in one" he smiled and I then had the desire to cry.

"It would be nice if I could have a few hours of your time, just to do my job" he chuckled, offering his hand.

I groaned. I ignored his hand and got up.

He turned a blind eye and led me out of the bathroom. Down the corridor. It was surprisingly loud as we walked through the halls, I guess other idols had arrived.

He led me to a lift, which I was worried over, but then I looked on the bright side, If it stopped, would miss the show, and escape with a full head of hair.

The lift happened to be covered in mirrors, which was heartbreaking for me, as i could see my hair. Soon to be shaved off....

Suho was looking at me, not through the mirror but just at my head.

I turned around, getting a bit weirded out. Why was he staring at the back of my skull?

"uh?" I turned around, trying to be polite but in reality i wanted this pretty boy dead.

"ah- I'm just wondering what to do with your hair" he let out a laugh.

"You're not the first," I mumbled. I shuffled my feet as we reached the floor. He walked in front of me while I reluctantly followed suit.

"I think we should cut it," he said, opening the door to a room.

I slouched in, my hair not prepared in the slightest.

"Should we dye it?" Suho teased me by leaning on my chair. I closed my eyes and groaned.

"Do not." was all I could choke out. He laughed again.