“You want me to do what???!!!” Hobi exclaimed in disgust and astonishment as he stared at his manager from across the table. Namjoon, who was accompanying him, tensed when his voice bounced around the small meeting room. His manager rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “We want you to date a fellow idol, Sana, of TWICE. It will be good for your image and the group’s image as well,” he smiled like everything would be worked out, which made Hobi’s blood boil. “You think I wanna date just after you forced me to break up with my girlfriend?” Hobi’s voice was dangerously quiet and calm. “Especially after you made me break up with her. Sorry, Manager, but my answer is no.” He leaned back in his chair and shot his manager a heated glare. “Jung Hoseok, this is not an option,” his manager exploded. “As a member of BTS, do you care more about your group or that silly, no good exgirlfriend-“ he had barely finished his sentence when Hobi stood up, his face stone cold, his mouth a grim line. His manager immediately stopped talking, suddenly apprehensive of what he was about to do. Everybody in the room fell silent, knowing Hobi was extremely scary when angry. “If you say one more fucking bad word about her and try to control my fucking life,” Hobi hissed lowly, his eyes boring into his manager’s scared face, “I’m leaving.” Namjoon’s jaw dropped. True, their manager was being a jerk, but he didn’t think Hobi would be so serious as to actually leave BTS! As Hobi pushed back his chair and stormed out of the room, Namjoon quickly bowed and apologized to the shaking manager before hurrying after his hyung. “Hyung!” Namjoon called desperately after Hobi running down the hall. “Hyung, please wait!!!” As Hobi stopped, breathing heavily at the end of the hall, Namjoon cautiously approached him. “Hyung??” “I can’t believe he said that,” Hobi snarled lowly. “That son of a fucking bitch…” He stopped when he saw Namjoon’s worried face. He sighed, hating the situation he was in. He felt torn. Part of him wanted to be with you, but the other part wanted to stay with his band and continue pursuing music. He slid down the wall and hung his head. Namjoon walked over and sat down next to him. They sat in silence, Hobi sobbing quietly every now and then. Namjoon didn’t know what to do. As the leader of BTS, he felt it his responsibility when one of the members felt sad or had personal problems. Suddenly, he had an idea. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he decided to tell Hobi anyway. Hobi’s face was creased with doubt, but he decided to trust his hyung anyways.
I slowly woke up, the smell of pancakes drifting into my room. I sat up straight; I hadn’t invited anybody over and my friend was at work already. Only one person knew I was here-besides your friend, of course- and that was- oh, shit. It’s Hobi. A mix of feelings surged in you: anger, nervousness, sadness, and happiness. What the hell was he doing here in your friend’s house? You swung your legs over the bed and prepared to face him. You took a deep breath and stepped outside. Unfortunately for you, the moment you stepped outside, the person who was supposedly Hobi was actually Namjoon! And as you saw him, a pancake hit your face and you yelped, the hot surface of the pancake burning your cheek. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, y/n!” Namjoon hurried to help you scrape off the disgusting missile, but you shot him a glare, making him shrink back in fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” you snapped, in a bad mood because Namjoon just had to hit you with a hot pancake, of all things! “Ummm-“ Namjoon looked around nervously. “You know what? Save it, I don’t want to hear your lame ass excuses from you,” you retorted and grabbed a glass of orange juice. You gulped it down, forgetting it was full. You sputtered, juice coming out of your nostrils and splashing on your shirt. “Shit, y/n! Are you all right?” Namjoon hurriedly handed you a paper towel to pay yourself dry. You shot him another death glare before accepting it. “Oh, yeah. I’m totally alright! I just got cheated on by my boy-no, ex-boyfriend,” you commented sarcastically. “And I thought he cared about me!” you yelled, flinging your cup across the room, where it smashed against the wall and shattered into a million pieces. Little did you know that Hobi was standing outside the door. His heart clenched painfullly as he heard your cries and sobs. Namjoon flinched; he knew you were heartbroken and confused. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and bawl your eyes out. As you quieted down after a while, you looked up at him with teary eyes. “Namjoon, please. Tell me, please.” Hobi’s heart broke when he heard your question.
“Who can fix my broken heart?”