Episode 2

when you got home from your night class, iced coffee in hand, you knew you were in for a long night. You were only half a page into a four page paper and the rough draft was due tomorrow. You groaned and set your backpack on your bed, tugging your earbuds out of your ears. You adjusted your BTS coaster, which had a picture of Tae sipping tea on Ellen, before setting your drink on it.

You knew that no amount of caffeine could save you now.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” the groan came from the depths of your very soul as you collapsed into your (admittedly comfy) desk chair and opened your computer. God, you didn’t want to write this paper. You didn’t want to write this paperrrrrrr. Ughhhhh. Who had convinced you that going to college was such a good idea in the first place? Why hadn’t they told you there were so many papers involved? That had to be illegal.

Scrolling through your laptop, you were half-tempted to just watch BTS videos into the evening and call it a night, but you knew you couldn’t, not if you wanted to pass your writing class. “Come on, (Y/N), make Namjoon proud.” You muttered to yourself, opening up your school files instead of giving into temptation and watching BTS be the adorable dorks they were.

Sighing, you pulled on your headphones and put on your chill studying playlist, which consisted mostly of instrumental music and Mono. You took a long sip of your coffee and read over the little bit of your paper that you already wrote, trying to get back into it as best as you could, and then, with as much energy as you could muster, you dove in.

You were proud of yourself. You’d written a few pages and had only wanted to die a little bit. Of course, you’d had to lock up your phone to prevent yourself from getting distracted. Maybe it helped that every time you looked up at your shelf, there were seven idols sitting there...all those little eyes. It was hard to focus when you felt like you were being watched. Little did you know that statement actually held a little bit of truth…

Eventually, your iced coffee ran out, so you knew you’d need to turn to another source of caffeine quick if you had any hope of finishing this paper, so you took your empty cup and walked to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind you.

“She shouldn’t be up this late working on homework.” Namjoon sighed, looking at the door after you. “She has a morning class tomorrow.”

“You have her schedule memorized?” Jimin asked, looking at the group’s official unofficial leader.

“You don’t? We’ve been here for three weeks. It’s not like we have anything else to do in here.” Yoongi pointed out. It was true. In the three weeks since you’d gotten back from break, they’d found that you had very few activities to keep them occupied while you were gone and it wasn’t like they were in any position to ask you for more.

“I just worry about her is all...” Namjoon rationalized, mostly for his own sake. If he was being completely honest with himself, he knew there was no logical explanation for the warm feelings you made bubble up in his chest. He hadn’t explained it to the others just yet, but he was pretty sure there was no way they felt the same. Or maybe they did and he wasn’t as special as he thought he was.

“We all do.” Jin nodded. “But it’s her life, you know. It’s not like we can--”

Jin and the others all sat at attention in the position they were last in before you’d left once the door creaked open again. Perhaps their greatest blessing living in your bedroom was the fact that the hinges of your door were so squeaky they had a long warning before you ever came back in. If not, they were sure they would have been caught by now. It also helped that you still had your headphones on, so it was doubtful you would have heard anything anyway.

You slumped back into your chair with a cup of iced chai in your hand. By this point, the guys deduced you must have some cold brew in the fridge because there was no way you could have gone out and gotten some so fast.

When you got back into your rhythm, your fingers flew across your keyboard much faster. It was the home stretch now. Just a few more decently sized paragraphs and you’d be done with this blasted draft once and for all. Thank God it only had to be a rough draft, because the quality of your writing was...questionable to say the very least.

Half an hour later, you finally, finally finished, triple-saving your file before closing your computer. You exhaled a sigh of relief, turning off your music before grabbing some pajamas and going to the bathroom to shower for the night and go through your night routine.

The guys didn’t dare move or speak until they heard the shower come on in the other room, and even then, they didn’t budge until they heard your faint voice singing through the wall.

“Persona...who the hell am I? I just wanna go, I just wanna…”

Namjoon grinned. He was pretty sure the song you had playing was one of his. Well, he supposed it wasn’t HIS song. It was RM’s song. And once again, he had to remind himself that he and the real actual person Namjoon were two separate people and though you were infatuated with his real-life counterpart, that didn’t apply to him.

“We need to find some things to do around here when she’s gone.” Jungkook whined, laying back against the shelf. “I’m so booooored.”

“Well we’re plastic dolls that belong to a college girl. I didn’t think we’d be getting much playtime.” Yoongi chuckled, shrugging. It was what it was, he guessed. There was nothing any of them could do about it.

“I’m sure we could figure out a way to use her laptop while she’s gone. Watch some Netflix or something.” Hoseok began plotting, looking around the bedroom for other things to entertain them, but coming up pretty much empty. It didn’t make matters much better that they were the only toys or figures you owned. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you had some other toys for them to play with, to talk to. That wasn’t likely to change any time soon, though.

“We’ll figure it out, guys, don’t worry.” Namjoon tried to be reassuring. “It could be a lot worse.”

“Well,” Yoongi chuckled, “you’re not wrong.”

You came back into the room about half an hour later, barefaced and beautiful, only plugging in your phone and setting your alarm before you got into bed.

“Goodnight, guys.” You murmured sleepily. It took every bone in Namjoon’s little plastic body not to say ‘Goodnight’ back.

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