Your Boyfriend Is An Idol.

It was one of those nights when you had absolutely no intention of sleeping.

You were curled up in bed, scrolling through Instagram with one earphone in, going through fan edits, memes, fanart, theories—basically everything on your feed that had anything to do with tannies.

You stopped at a fanart of Kooh and Mimi

The drawing showed the two of them dramatically arguing over a plate of food while the caption read:

“Jim stole Jk's banana milk again. War has officially begun.”

The comments were already chaos.

Jim would win.

No, Jk would just eat the entire fridge.

They're both dramatic 😭.

You were about to scroll when one comment caught your attention.

@kimchi_has_feelings: Actually Jungkook doesn't even like banana milk that much.

You frowned.

You tapped the reply button.

You: He literally said in an interview that he likes banana milk 😭

A minute later, the account replied.

@kimchi_has_feelings: Did he?

You: Yes 😭 how are you on a [B.T.S] fanpage and don't know this?

@kimchi_has_feelings: I have other talents.

You: Clearly not fact checking.

You expected the conversation to end there.

Instead—

@kimchi_has_feelings: Okay, professor. What else am I wrong about?

You laughed.

You: Do you want the full lecture?

@kimchi_has_feelings: I'm already regretting asking.

You should have stopped replying.

You didn't.

One correction became an argument.

The argument became jokes.

The jokes moved into DMs.

And somehow, the stranger behind @kimchi_has_feelings became the person you found yourself checking Instagram for.

At first, his profile looked ridiculous.

No profile picture.

No posts.

No bio except:

probably eating

You had teased him about it more than once.

You: Your account looks like a bot.

@kimchi_has_feelings: Maybe I am.

You: Then you're a very talkative bot.

@kimchi_has_feelings: You're still talking to me.

You couldn't argue with that.

---

A few weeks later, you opened Instagram one morning and noticed something different.

The username had changed.

@kimchi_has_feelings → @jae_archive

And there was finally a profile picture.

Not a face.

Just a blurry photograph of a night sky, city lights glowing underneath it.

You immediately messaged him.

You: OH.

@jae_archive: What?

You: You finally got a personality.

@jae_archive: I had one before.

You: Debatable.

---

Then, a few days later, another change.

His username disappeared completely.

Now his profile simply read:

Jae just here.

You stared at it.

You: Jae?

Jae: Hmm?

You: That's your name?

A pause.

Jae: One of them.

You: ONE OF THEM?!

Jae: Don't interrogate me.

You laughed.

You didn't think much of it.

To you, Jae was simply Jae.

A slightly annoying, ridiculously funny guy who somehow always knew how to make you laugh when you'd had a terrible day.

Then the messages became longer.

The conversations became later.

He started sending you pictures of random things from his day—coffee sitting beside a laptop, the view from a car window, a pair of sneakers abandoned beside a gym bag.

Never his face.

Whenever you asked, he had an excuse.

You: You literally send me pictures of everything except yourself.

Jae: I'm protecting you.

You: From what?

Jae: My terrible face.

You: Liar.

Jae: You haven't seen it.

You: Exactly.

Somewhere along the way, teasing became flirting.

Flirting became attachment.

And attachment became something neither of you bothered pretending was friendship anymore.

Until one night—

Jae: Can I call you mine?

You stared at the message.

Your heart did something embarrassing.

You: I thought you already did.

Three dots appeared.

Jae: Good.

And that was how you ended up dating someone you'd never actually met.

You knew his voice.

You knew his laugh.

You knew what made him annoyed, what made him quiet, what songs he played when he couldn't sleep.

You knew Jae.

Or at least, you thought you did.

Because there was one thing he had never told you.

Jae wasn't his real name.

And the person behind that ordinary little Instagram account wasn't nearly as ordinary as you believed.

---

It happened on a night when everything felt a little too heavy.

You had been holding things together all day, pretending you were fine, answering messages, smiling when you needed to.

But once you were alone, it all came crashing down.

You lay curled beneath your blanket, staring at your phone through blurry eyes.

Jae noticed almost immediately.

Jae: You're quiet.

You wiped your cheek.

You: I'm fine.

Jae: You're not.

You didn't answer.

Another message.

Jae: Talk to me.

Something about those three words broke the last bit of your composure.

Your fingers moved before you could overthink them.

You: I just feel really lonely tonight.

You stared at the screen.

Then, after a long pause, you typed the thing you normally would have been too embarrassed to say.

You: I wish I could see you right now. Hug you. I just... really want to feel loved.

The message was sent.

Immediately, you regretted it.

You pulled the blanket over your face, embarrassed by your own vulnerability.

Jae didn't reply.

One minute.

Two.

Three.

You wondered if you'd scared him off.

Then your phone vibrated.

Jae: Give me a minute.

You frowned.

You: For what?

No answer.

You waited.

Then—

Jae: Check your email.

You sat up.

You: Why?

Jae: Just do it.

You opened your inbox.

Nothing.

You refreshed.

Still nothing.

Then a new email appeared.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you opened it.

Your entire expression changed.

A ticket.

— LIVE CONCERT

You stared at your name printed across the confirmation.

For several seconds, you couldn't even breathe.

You: Jae.

He replied almost instantly.

Jae: Hmm?

You: What is this?

Jae: Your ticket.

You blinked rapidly.

You: You bought this?

Jae: Yes.

You: But they're sold out.

Jae: I know.

You: How did you—

Another notification interrupted you.

A second attachment.

You opened it.

Your mouth fell open.

BACKSTAGE ACCESS — AUTHORIZED GUEST

You actually stood up from your bed.

You: JAE.

Jae: I know.

You: BACKSTAGE?!

Jae: I thought you'd like it.

You: LIKE IT?! I'm going to faint.

Jae: Please don't. I have plans for you.

You stared at that sentence.

You: What plans?

There was a pause.

Long enough to make your heart beat faster.

Jae: You wanted to see me.

You froze.

You: What?

Another message appeared.

Jae: So I figured it was time you got to see someone.

Your heart skipped.

You: Someone?

Jae: Someone very special.

You laughed nervously.

You: You're being weird.

Jae: Probably.

Then:

Jae: Go to the concert.

You: Will you be there?

The typing bubble appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Jae: Yes.

You smiled despite the tears still drying on your cheeks.

For the first time that night, you didn't feel lonely.

You hugged your phone against your chest.

You had no idea why Jae had gone to such ridiculous lengths.

You had no idea how he'd gotten a backstage pass.

And you definitely had no idea who you'd actually be meeting when those backstage doors opened.

All you knew was that the boy you'd fallen for through a screen had heard you say—

I wish I could see you.

And somehow...

he had decided to make that wish come true.

---

CONCERT DAY:

The stadium is already alive by the time {{user}} arrives.

ARMYs fill the entrance, lightsticks glowing everywhere, banners and signs raised above the crowd, music playing through the venue as everyone waits for the concert to begin.

{{user}} finally reaches her seat, ARMY Bomb in hand, still trying to process that she's actually here.

Her phone suddenly vibrates.

Jae: You made it, baby?

A moment later, another message appears.

Jae: Good.

Jae: Now forget about me for a while.

Jae: Enjoy your concert.

Then—

Jae: Sing loudly. Wave your ARMY Bomb. Have the time of your life.

A pause.

Jae: I'll text you when it's over, okay?