So I Am Curios, What Does Oc's Mom Think About Jk????

So I am curios, what does oc's mom think about jk????🤔

Does she even like him? Does she aprove him? Just what does she think about him?

aw hell naaa oc's mom doesn't even know she talks to boys 😖 she is a stRICT mf but oc is ✨rebellious✨ and is in a relationship behind her back 😎 HOWEVER, if oc's mom deemed it okay for her to have a partner at some point, and if she met jk and saw his attire and attitude... best believe she gon perform an exorcism on that boy. she won't approve, she won't like, she will think of him as the worst type of man oc could possibly be with 😖 she wants her girl to be with a gentleman who is respectful and respectable, coming from a good family and doesn't have pIERCINGS AND TATTOOS.

Btw if my boyfriend wants to tattoo my whole name he is f*cked. Bc my name has 19 syllabes.....

girl WHAT 😳 he should tattoo it on his arm then, otherwise is he really the one 🙄

Can we have a smut drabble from the textbook couple? I missed them....

you missed the smut? cuz i wrote this for u 😫

How would jk react if oc's mom doesn't like him?

oc would stop him from arguing with her and accept that her mom doesn't approve of their relationship because she can't change her mind, and though it would hurt jk in the process, she has to rely on her mom due to finances since she doesn't have a job yet. she'd explain that to him later on, and fool her mom into thinking she cut contact with him. oc keepin secrets 😩 bad gorl

that step-dad Jungkook one shot was sooo good, i always have such a hard time finding those 😩😓

OHDDJJFJ thank you sooo much i have an unhealthy obsession with step-dad jk fics but it feels so filthy to write them oml 💀 im gLAD U ENJOYED IT :DDD

My Time

pairing: yandere!fan!Jungkook x fem!actress!Reader

genre: retro, drama, thriller, oneshot

summary: Aspiring to be one of the top actresses of the 20th, you crave recognition for the blood, sweat and tears you put into your work that only your fan who's hopelessly devoted to you provides: Jeon Jungkook. You're always a supporting role and despite never leaving the shadows, he brings light to your presence through his letters.

It's only when you have the opportunity to be seen by all as the lead that he becomes the looming darkness that casts a shadow over you.

warnings: murder, stalking, violence

word count: 7.9k

a/n: this was inspired by the fan :') look out for the parallels between phantom of the opera and their wuv story 😎 ps if theres a mistake pls lmk

—————

Dear Sorelli,

Before I attempt to describe the beauty of your work, which is a very hard task to do considering I could write a whole novel about your breathtaking performance in the Phantom of the Opera, I must mention how cheated you must feel for not taking the role of Christine. It’s understandable of course, for you are the most talented actress anyone has ever come across, but I’m ashamed to admit I was relieved when I first heard of the casting. 

It is one of my favorite plays, and you portrayed La Sorelli perfectly; your dance, your expressions and tonality… you were the main character in my eyes. You deserve to be in the spotlight always, and the theatre director didn’t do you justice by the very few scenes that you starred in, but is it wrong to say I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way?

Christine has too many kissing scenes, and I can’t imagine how I would feel if you were to play her; I predict I’d be shattered, and for that I’m grateful that you didn’t get the lead. And the outfits you wore… I tried to be respectful by looking away every time you bent or crouched in that tight ballerina costume, but I didn’t want to miss out on your performance. If that comes off too straightforward, pardon me, I did my very best to keep a clean mind. 

I said Phantom of the Opera is one of my favorite plays, and it is, but it was a bore to watch when you weren’t on stage. The only reason I stayed until the very end was to see you again, bowing to the audience with the crew, and I made sure to make you feel appreciated by applauding the loudest. You were the star, just like every other play you’ve been in. I say this in every one of my letters, but I will always remind you that you’ve become the sole reason I love theatre despite being a fanatic for years. It is no coincidence that I saw you in the darkest times of my life, for now you are my light. 

Love always,

Jeon Jungkook

“Your admirer’s punctual once more,” your secretary announces from her seat in the hallway, reading your second fan mail of the day by the landline to take care of any business relations strictly directed to you. “I’d guess other artists alike don’t have fans as loyal as this one.” 

You pause in reading the daily news and look to the side, suppressing the quirk of the corners of your mouth to hide the secret of your anticipation and the satisfaction that comes with. The one person who openly gives you the recognition you deserve without delay and strengthens your ambition to be known.

One day, you’ll be receiving similar attention from all people around. You strive to be the actress that doesn’t audition and instead offered to be the lead for every single act to come. 

“Do you want to read it?”

You merely shrug and lean into the headrest of the couch to appear uninterested, raking your eyes over the bold headline you’ve already read. “Is it worth a read?”

Jennie hums in contemplation, sounding almost uncomfortable. “It does stand out from other letters, but I can’t say if it’s for the better or worse.”

“Hand it to me.”

Heat creeps up to your cheeks by the end of the page, a physical reaction you can’t hide due to your embarrassing flattery. He is shameless in his approach, and you are not one to indulge in these activities so as to not waste the time you could spend searching for your next audition, but he diminishes your incompetence. Though his relief does make you scoff.

You know you deserved the role of Christine Daee, and you suspect Jungkook agrees by sympathizing with you in that aspect, but it irritates you that he was pleased with the results because of his one-sided attachment. A fan is expected to be more supportive than that, but you can excuse him in this one instance for sticking with you since the beginning of your career four years ago.

The growth of your fame has been a slow process, and you still maintain the privilege of being rarely recognized in public. You’ve been in countless plays, from being an understudy to a supporting role, with very few features in movies that your loyal fan still managed to comment on. It won’t be long before you land lead roles, and you’re absolutely certain of it.

You would never say it out loud, but you won’t let Jungkook’s support go to waste. He will be happy on your behalf at every milestone.

After a minute of utter silence, Jennie snickers from above you. “Hear that? He couldn’t keep his mind clean.”

You flinch at her interruption of your thoughts and defensively respond to her teasing, "It's a man, what were you expecting? Their brains aren't located in their heads." Lying comes with being a good actress, and you convincingly pretend that none of the words in ink affect you. It shouldn't. You don't have the time to bond with fans, although there aren't many to pick from, so you jab the letter at Jennie's chest. She'll write up a response for you.

"Get on with your replies and quit sneaking up on me like that!"

—————

Being a career-driven woman, you steer away from social interactions unless it benefits you in one way or another. You would do anything to reach the top of the chain, and that comes with its drawbacks, such as the reason why you've been lying down on your couch all day. No job means having nothing to do, and even your secretary is bored of solving crossword puzzles.

Neither of you converse.

The landline rings, stealing Jennie's attention while you continue watching movies with a stone cold face. You're bored too, so you perk up to listen in on the call.

"Hello? Yes, this is her secretary… Yes. Mhm… The Royal Hall?!" You jump at the sudden change in pitch. She quickly faces you with round eyes and parted lips without diverting her attention from the telephone. The mention of the Royal Hall makes you sit up and wear a similar expression to Jennie's. "Yes, she's available. She'll be there. Thank you, have a wonderful day."

"What is it?" 

Jennie stands up, excitement written all over her. "The Royal Hall wants you to audition for the Phantom of the Opera! They contacted the actors from the previous play because they're speeding up the process, but most of them have already picked up another gig and you hit the jackpot!"

You pick up the remote to turn off the TV. "Am I hearing this correctly? They went out of their way to offer me to act in the Royal Hall?"

"Yes!" she gushes and bounces on her feet. "They want you in the biggest venue in the city! This is your time to shine."

The day you've been waiting for all your life, presented before your very eyes. You've had a passion for acting since your early childhood, watching plays, movies and shows with your family for as long as you can remember. Even as a young girl, you knew the Royal Hall was a special place—everything magical occurred there.

Now, you're going to be on that stage, and you don't know how to react.

"Jesus Christ," you breathe, feeling numb all over except for the pounding of your heart against your chest. You have your own set of standards, and you're certainly competitive, but performing in the Royal Hall was only something you could dream of. Was.

"I'm going to audition for Christine Daee."

—————

Jungkook observes his bedroom to spot any flaws in the scene he set. Scraps of you in costumes from flyers decorate the four walls, along with knick-knacks on his desks that he turned into your merchandise. The candles illuminate his surroundings, a romantic ambience taking over the environment and has him adjusting his collar sticking out from his knitted sweater. He's almost nervous, but has to remind himself he has nothing to be anxious about.

It's just you after all.

He sits down on his chair, formerly tucked into his work desk, and is quick to pour himself a glass of white wine. He doesn't touch his food at first, his dinner consisting of a plain triangular sandwich with chocolate on the side. He wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and awkwardly chuckles before gulping.

"Cheers," he stammers before holding up his glass at a polaroid of you that he took himself plastered right across from him. You look so dazzling that even without your physical presence, you have him tongue tied.

He sips from his drink and his cheeks flush immediately. His alcohol tolerance is to be scoffed at, but he recovers from the initial effects quickly by eating on the side.

Without being able to control his patience, he finishes his food quickly before shoving the dishes to the side and pulling the typewriter in front of him. There's so much to tell you. The keyboard clicks as he pushes the buttons.

Dear Sorelli,

Have you heard? The Royal Hall is going to organize a play that you and I know all too well. Sure it's strange that it's happening back to back, so soon after the recent performance of the Phantom of the Opera, but apparently a famous theatre director was in the audience and he just loved the play so much that he's spreading it to a wider audience! 

I'm hoping you'll be auditioning for La Sorelli, I'm desperate to see you play her again. You were so captivating, as always, and I'm impatient to see you. Tell me you'll think about it? Or maybe your secretary will pass on your thoughts to me…

I wish you would write to me so I could feel closer to you. Oh, when will I have the honor? Excuse me, I must sound so greedy. Knowing you read these letters should be enough for me. Even so, Miss Secretary, is it too much to ask for a picture of my dearest Sorelli? I'll take anything I can get… 

How I want to talk to you, see you, and touch you, you'll never understand. I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to be in your thoughts also.

Love always,

Jeon Jungkook

While he’s neatly folding the letter, a knock resounds in his apartment. He doesn’t react to it at first, as if he can’t hear it at all, but the knocks turn into pounds which frustrates him. He grunts with pursed lips before stomping to the door, opening it wide enough to stick his head out.

“What do you want?” 

His brother stands, dumbfounded, with his fist still in the air. “Hey.”

When Jungkook aims to shut the door, Taehyung holds out his palm to stop him. “Are you okay? Why are you acting like this again? We were getting along fine yesterday, and I thought-”

“I’m busy,” he growls. “I’m on a date. What were you thinking, showing up unannounced? You did me one favor and now you think we’re close?”

“You’re welcome?” he scoffs at his baby brother’s crudeness. “I guess you’re with that girl. Hope you have an amazing fucking date.”

Jungkook ignores the sarcastic farewell and slams the door shut before scuttering back to you, afraid he made you wait too long.

—————

Jennie, no matter how hard she thinks, can’t figure out how Jungkook would know of such a thing. She’s always known him as a fan for you, but perhaps he’s more than that. There is no way he would know of the upcoming event if he wasn’t a part of the organization, and if he is, how does he have the time to watch every single one of your plays? It’s baffling to say the least, and she interrupts your line-reading to bring her confusion to light.

“Jungkook knows about the Royal Hall.”

You clench your teeth at her intervention. “I don’t care,” you hiss and return to your practice. You hear her huff in offence at your rude response, but pay no mind to it.

Your secretary frowns at the sheet in her hand, not even bothering to ask if you want to reply to him instead as per his request out of fear. She ignores the twist in her gut at his final words and prepares a letter with a print of one of your headshots to send the fan without a response. There’s nothing she can say to him if not questions.

—————

The best aspect of having the opportunity to star in a familiar play in the Royal Hall is that it attracts more opportunities, opens more doors for you to further your career. The worst is the stress that comes with not being able to afford to lose this opportunity; I can not mess this up, you remind yourself.

Walking to the venue is magical on its own, knowing you’re going to be on that stage in a matter of minutes. You stand before the entrance of the building and take deep breaths, too deep into your thoughts to notice you’re the focal point beyond a pair of binoculars. 

Nothing else matters at this moment, and you enter.

The first thing that you see is the stage, one you’ve seen many times before in all its glory under the lights. You’re only a silhouette in the path between the seats, and you look all around you where chairs occupy more than one floor. Per your estimation, five hundred people would only take up half of the stadium. 

There are only a few people in the audience though; the staff, the judges, the critics - the ones who decide your fate and the other man on the spacious platform who you tune out the singing of. This is about your experience, and you run a hand over all the headrests while walking down the pathway. No one is worth your attention right now, only the feeling of the fabric and plastic is.

La Sorelli was your beginning, and Christine Daee is your ending for this mediocre life you live. You trust Jeon Jungkook will be with you every step of the way.

—————

Dear Christine,

I’ve always enjoyed your characters, but it feels so wrong to call you Christine out of all names you’ve owned. I hate it. Why can’t you stay as my Sorelli? Rosaline suits you too… Anything but Christine. I know how badly you want to be her, especially with how convenient it would be for you, but I can’t accept it. I don’t want you to kiss Raoul three times, not unless I’m him. And then there’d be Erik kissing your hands…  Please don’t do this, I beg you.

You know I love you, why do you wish to hurt me like this? I understand you’re only doing this to pave the way for your success, but it being at my expense hurts me deeply. I’m the only one you need, I hope you realize that. I’ve always been there for you, to support you, to cherish you, to give you everything you want. If fame and fortune is what you desire, I will provide it for you. 

This is so frustrating… Of course you’d want to be independent. My hands are tied, love. I can’t always be so understanding. I don’t blame you for any of my internal conflicts, but this warzone leaves no room for peace and for that I am sorry to you. I am so sorry.

To think the Phantom of the Opera used to be one of my favorites… I’ve always seen myself in Erik. Ironically enough, we both hide ourselves under a guise and yet would do anything for love. I’d do anything for you, my love. Anything for our love. I’ll always be here for you.

Yours truly,

Jeon Jungkook

Gripping his hair with his fists, Jungkook releases a deep breath of anguish. He’s realistic in his imagination where you are displeased with his writing. You deserve all the love and praise he can give, but there’s a line that you teasingly tiptoe on. 

He watched your audition in a mix of admiral and betrayal. You were perfect and graceful in your portrayal, expressing every emotion with the passion that pumps through your veins. But he couldn’t stop himself from rushing out of the venue before you finished. You would get the role and another man would take advantage of the script and taint your lips.

“I can’t allow it,” he cries to you in a whisper with unshed tears, silently begging for your forgiveness through the print he received in the mail. He caresses your frown before pecking it over and over again. No other man would be this gentle with you. “You weren’t supposed to be Christine… It’s all my fault.”

—————

When you walked to the Royal Hall, your optimism was reasonable. Jungkook didn’t see any smiles, but he could see it in your eyes that you were hopeful. Today, he saw the same optimism all over your face. He didn’t account for a bad outcome when you slipped out of the doors. 

His heart hurts upon seeing you put a hand over your mouth to suppress your sobs and close your eyes to stop your tears. He knows how prideful you are, and whatever you discovered must have left an immense impact on you if you’re crying in public. He expected to be the one to cry, but this is a much better scenario—you didn’t get the role, and he sighs in relief once the penny drops.

Much, much better.  

—————

“A fucking understudy! Can you believe it?!” 

You pace the living room with angry tears collecting at your lash line, and Jennie who sits dumbfounded on her work chair wouldn't know what to do if you start crying. She's an empath, but you've never been forthcoming enough for her to form an emotional bond with you and now she’s stuck in a position where she doesn’t know if she should comfort you or let you rant. Her hands meet on her lap as she nibbles on her nether lip.

“Christine’s understudy?” 

“Who else?” you exasperate and fling your arms. Teardrops adorn your temples where you harshly wiped them. “I would’ve been okay with any other role, at least be seen, but now… I’m nothing! Not even a ballerina. All of my efforts, my potential...” 

Jennie tunes you out as a thought comes to mind. She remembers Jungkook’s letter, disregarding the discomfort she felt while reading, and how much the man was against your aspiration. “Guess your fan got what he wanted,” she murmurs in the midst of your monologue.

This makes you pause with your clenched teeth on display. “That jealous fucker… It’s all his fault!”

“Well, he did know about the Royal-”

“Move,” you demand and motion for her to stand from the chair so you can access the typewriter. It screeches against the wooden table when you pull on it before sliding the margin. You search for a blank sheet until you notice the open letter.

You growl upon reading the thoughts of a supposed fan whose name you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing, and fume as you load the paper behind the cylinder. A response from you is what he’s always wanted, and you’ll finally provide. You ignore his sentences that confused you and stick to spilling your feelings.

Your secretary tries to remind you to be nice and recommends you to get some fresh air, but you don’t listen to her as the keyboard clicks under your punches.

—————

Jeon Jungkook,

Luckily for you, you won’t have to call me the name you despise so much. Unfortunately for me, I have landed in the worst place possible due to your manifestation. Currently, I have no name to go by other than my own. I choose to call myself a nobody, because that is the harsh truth.

In order to make my dreams come true, I have to do things other people don’t want me to do, things I don’t want myself to do. It’s business and I have to be professional; if it bothers you that I go against your wishes to do my job, you need a reality check. Since you’ve been motivating me to do well for as long as my career, I trust to tell you this for your comfort that I’m merely an understudy for Christine Daee and basically have no place in the play. You will not see me.

You’ve told me that you forced yourself to sit through the Phantom of the Opera just to see me, and you would’ve seen me longer had I not been a supporting role. This time, I don’t even have a role and I don’t know when I will. If you mean it when you say you’re here for me, I will react accordingly and vent to you. 

I’m hurt and frustrated. I lost your support because of fictional affection. I'm wasting my time and energy on one of the biggest productions I’ve been a part of because by the end, I will have contributed nothing. Your lack of encouragement upsets me, but I know you will be pleased by the news. 

Look forward to Park Jihyo’s performance. 

—————

Jungkook was quick to rip apart the letter the moment he picked it up from the mailbox and entered his apartment. He doesn’t take his eyes off the letter as he unties his shoelaces before pausing in shock. The salutation is unfamiliar and doesn’t sound as formal as your secretary usually does. His gaze trails to the signature before he gasps and almost trips over himself.

You wrote to him for the first time.

“Oh God, oh God,” he slides down the entrance door and leans against it to take a moment and catch his breath. It’s your first interaction with him, and he can’t read the words his fingers graze in adoration. You touched this paper, the paper he’s now touching. He takes off his overcoat at the sudden heat creeping up his body. 

With his mind in a haze, he begins reading it very slowly to digest every word you’ve written with your beautiful hands.

At first, he refused to simply understand that the letter didn’t have a second page. He needs to hear more from you; four paragraphs aren’t enough! Then he tried comforting your self-deprecating words by speaking to himself in his empty apartment. A ‘nobody’? Delusional! 

And finally, he understood.

Your writing clearly entails that you’ve read his previous letters, which warms his heart every time he thinks about it before souring when he remembers that you also accused him of not supporting you. It took him a few hours to understand why you would say such a thing when you know how much he worships you. 

He understood the significance of your last sentence; the name you left for him to read between the lines.

It’s 9 PM when he goes outside to fulfill your wishes after planning it thoroughly. He won’t write to you until he’s taken care of everything.

—————

Envy consumes your features the longer you scrutinize Jihyo from afar during rehearsals. You should be practising, but you’re currently dealing with the bitter realization of why she was chosen instead of you. The decision wasn’t only based on skills, but also appearance; she looks perfect for the role and you can’t literally embody that innocence that comes so naturally to her.

Her round face; large, doe eyes with her brows in a permanent soft curve; pink petal lips that are uneven when stretched into a smile; a small button nose to finish off the expression. Brown, shiny hair cascades down her shoulders, medium in length and yet so crucial to the element of innocence. The movement in her steps scream elegance and graciousness, unlike your fingers that dig into your palms hard enough to draw blood any second now. 

What kind of injustice is this? Do you have to suffer for aspects you can’t change? You can’t blame yourself for the dark glint in your eyes that represents your inner disturbing thoughts, therefore unfair in your position of being a useless understudy. If only you could leave a permanent mark on her face so she understands what you’re forced to live with… 

You remind yourself that it isn’t her fault. She didn’t mean to be so perfect. It doesn’t diminish the bloodlust you feel, but it comes with a sense of sympathy. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for her success; it is my failure after all. You’re not upset she got the role, you’re upset that you didn’t.

So when lunch break comes around, you approach her to come to terms with your feelings. “You were amazing out there, Jihyo. You’re one of the best actresses I’ve had the honor of watching! Keep up the good work.”

The blush on her cheeks boils your blood. Now she’s shy? 

With that clarity, you begin your own rehearsal.

—————

Park Jihyo was a sweet, charitable woman and no one could dispute her sincerity. She wasn’t so much an extrovert, but she was constantly surrounded by co-workers deemed as friends because of her likeable personality. She would donate to homeless shelters, charities, participate in protests, and never drop that soft tone of hers unless she was forced to. She owed her fame, success and money to not only her talent, but to the people who supported her throughout her journey—she never forgot that, and instead made her gratitude known with her actions. 

No one was capable of hating her with good reason, and therefore she was loved.

And she was never alone. Hell, even you went out to get a drink with her. Sure, you were bitter about your situation still, but there was nothing you could do about it. You had to watch her sign autographs and smile like it didn’t sting your pride and ego. But she apologized, you accepted, and she was an acquaintance. Nothing was wrong with her.

But one night, four days before the huge event, she was caught off guard. There was no one with her for once, and someone took the opportunity to approach her with purpose. There was a call of her name, an excited voice trying to get her attention, and like the considerate woman she was, she turned. She was flustered, found the man before her well groomed and attractive, but she smiled at him nonetheless and he brightly smiled back. She never found a fan so dashingly handsome.

But no one’s perfect—not even Jihyo with multiple, brutal slashes on her face from the wrath of the man’s polished blade. Precise cuts had adorned her face when she cried, lying down on the cement where a metro would arrive in minutes, and he wasn’t able to enjoy her unscripted reaction. He had to cut it short, much like her lifespan, by one last stab in her chest. 

“I’m sorry,” she heard in her final seconds, the sound a mere buzz in her ears, “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but may you rest in peace with the knowledge that your death had great meaning as did your life. Good night.” And he dimmed her eyes, ending her struggle to keep them open, only to be blinded forever. 

He wiped her face with his handkerchief as an act of courtesy and for his own benefit. People would find her soon enough, once the metro station would be filled.

These are the details you would have to keep a secret, because three days before the performance, you’re no longer the understudy. You’re told with melancholy that you have taken the lead, the rushed organization will not be delayed despite the upsetting news of Park Jihyo’s death. It was painful and savage, but for some reason, as you walk back to your apartment… It isn’t so bad.

Not one soul would you tell your wicked joy to, but it is difficult to fight against the tug of your lips. You shouldn’t be happy… but it isn’t as if you’re happy about the heartbreaking fate of your friend. No, you’re happy that you finally got the role you’ve always deserved.

You let your smile show.

—————

The public reaction is much more like Jennie’s: shaken and upset. You expected this when you walked inside, but not the terror written all over her face the moment she sees you. “You have to see this,” are her first words to you before everything takes a turn.

Dear Christine,

I am sure you’ve heard the news by now. I’ve been so impatient and eager to write to you, but I kept my promise of waiting until I’ve redeemed myself. The withdrawal symptoms have been anything but easy on me, but I can confidently say it was worth it because I’ve finally made you happy. You forgive me now, don’t you? I’m sure you are thrilled to have the spotlight on yourself. Alas, Jihyo has stolen it again for now… If no one’s congratulated you yet, let me do the honors, I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and congratulations!

If you’re worried about me, don’t be. It was so easy, though it took a while to get to this point, and it felt so satisfying to see someone so untouchable gone in the snap of a finger—my finger. I hope you don’t feel guilty… I’ll taint my innocence for you again and again just to see your smile. Have I mentioned I’d do anything for you? Everything I do, I do for you. 

Will you let me know if you’re still upset with me? I want to speak with you again. I’ve reread your letter more times than I can count, I start my day and end my night with it. You don’t understand how over the moon I was when I saw your signature, because I can’t explain it with words. Maybe I can show you? Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Love you always, 

Jeon Jungkook

The average person would react much like Jennie, and you know how she’s expecting you to react similarly, but you don’t care what she thinks when you say in monotone, “I’ll take care of it.”

“We need to take this to the police-”

“I said I’ll take care of it.”

This professional relationship between you is dented; Jennie is staring at you in bewilderment, and she looks like she’s about to scoff with rage. You do it for her, because she doesn’t understand how this could affect you. You don’t have the time for an investigation; isn’t she aware of how soon the play is, the one you’re the lead in? The attention is meant to be on you. 

The show must go on. Afterwards, you can have a little chat with your fanboy.

You do your line-reading with your secretary. When it’s night and she’s asleep, you use the shredder to get rid of any evidence of Jungkook’s confession. That could damage your career if revealed to the world.

—————

After weeks of waiting, he’s had enough of it. He’s run out of patience, and another day of this torture pains him. Where is his response? Just a token of gratitude? You’re so silent. His hands clasped at his nape in bed don’t stop fidgeting. It’s unnerving, your lack of response, for once. Maybe he got used to it too early; you only sent your first letter after three years! I’m just too needy, he thinks, she’ll surely have something to say about the sacrifice. A single line would suffice: thank you. You must not have the time to even write that now… 

Don’t you appreciate it? His internal turmoil is eating at his brain, translating to his shaking limbs. He’ll have to ask again. You just need a push; he can write to you again without seeming clingy, right? And if you don’t… Well, he can push in different ways. He already bought a ticket with his brother’s money: first row, right beneath you. He can congratulate you in person this time; that would mean a lot more to you. 

His fingers itch to type, monologues swirling through his mind and he can no longer keep to himself. He committed the worst crime for you, and he at least deserves to be acknowledged. Leaving his warm bed, he settles on his chair and turns on the desk lamp. It’s approaching morning, but no rays of sun light up his room.

Dear Christine,

I’m sure you’re busy with practice, promotions and public statements right now. I hope you’re not overworking yourself, and find time to rest. I don’t want to be a bother with my constant rambling, you already have so much on your plate, but you must understand my quest for any sort of interaction. I am aware that my actions mustn’t go unpunished, but I did it for you, and I wasn’t expecting the punishment from you. I can rot confined, but not in solitude. Don’t isolate me from yourself.

You were wrong about me not seeing you on stage. That is the only thing that brings me joy, much like the smile you had after receiving the news of your current position. I looked like a lunatic with how euphoric I appeared, skipping around with the biggest grin. Just remember to put a thumb over Seokjin’s lips. Do not forget, Christine. I’m your Raoul. It is only I you can kiss. I can’t wait to do so… You have the prettiest lips I’ve ever seen.

Kiss me when you see me. 

Love you forever,

Jeon Jungkook

—————

Christine,

I’m livid. It’s the evening before I see you, and I wish you the luck that I know you don’t need. Your hard work will pay off. Will mine? I’m suffering in this state because I feel so ignored. But I know you’re not doing it on purpose, and so I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I really can’t wait.

Who am I kidding? I saw you today. You looked so happy. I didn’t want to watch the rehearsals because that would be unfair to you, but I just had to see what was keeping you so busy. You were practising but I know you get home at seven, and you didn’t look so exhausted. You could have made time for me. You’re ignoring me. Did your use of me perish? I don’t matter anymore? What will happen after tomorrow?

I just want you to reassure me. Can you do that for me? 

I love you,

Jeon Jungkook

—————

Murmurs of the crowd in the Royal Hall's  travel behind the curtains, all the way backstage and turn muffled in the dressing rooms where you do the final touch-ups of your makeup. Nerves are at an all time high within everyone who isn't sitting in the lined up rows of seats by the platform and beyond. Everyone has their own concerns regarding their performance, but all the pressure is on you. As a trained actress, you do well in keeping it to yourself.

You know what they’re all thinking: Can she live up to what could’ve been if Park Jihyo was still alive? The stage is all yours, and you thrive on it; her death did you more good than harm. This is quite literally your time to shine. You won’t disappoint; not after practising day and night without break, not even bothering to wash off the blood in your hands with the play looming over your head.

And the show begins when you’re ushered on stage, entering on cue after the foreword. 

Your first scene begins wordlessly, crying on command in your dressing room, where you prepare to get the role of Marguerite in competition with Carlotta. Your actions are melancholic, even the way you kneel down to pray before the mirror, and you’re truly Christine Daee in this moment; you don’t radiate the confidence you feel so deeply in your core.

It only shows when you sing, despite the moisture in your cheeks where you had harshly wiped your tears according to the stage direction. Your lines are spoken beautifully, though you’re only speaking to yourself. It’s only when you go silent that your thoughts come to comfort you: they’re all blown away.

—————

You’ve seen Kim Namjoon with and without the mask of the phantom. You’ve heard his voice, spoken to him, rehearsed with him. Christine gets the lead role when the phantom sabotages a rehearsal, with help of who she—you believe to be “Angel of Music”. You meet your childhood friend, Raoul, and next thing you know, a jealous phantom kidnaps you. The phantom of the opera isn’t Kim Namjoon, and you don’t know who it is. 

Someone stole Namjoon’s role. The crew must have noticed as well by now, right? But who is this?

Your confusion is merely internal, because the show is still going. Everything is going as it’s meant to be, you’re following the script and direction, but it shouldn’t disturb you so realistically when he says:

“I love you, Christine… I have brought you here a prisoner… for love!”

It’s too… genuine. The secret marriage Erik, the phantom, tries to force you into; his chilling obsession with you; the murder that follows in your honor. Jungkook sees Erik in himself, you remember with a shiver when you're backstage. You can’t make this about him, not when you’re going off on assumptions, not during your play. You have to leave the questions for later.

Right now… you can only appreciate his voice. He sings beautifully despite his crude actions, killing two men in front of you and still having the audacity to propose to you and make you choose between him and Raoul. You’re meant to be hypnotized by his music, but it’s genuine—you can’t pretend. That’s your mistake.

You’re not meant to be hypnotized when you rip off the mask on his face, admiring his beauty when you’re supposed to be terrified by his flaws. He should be ugly, not gorgeous. You messed up.

But so does he. He smiles at you, a lovesick glint in his eyes that twinkle under the stage lights, which is not in the script. This is a horrifying moment for Christine, but a romantic one for you. He can’t be Jeon Jungkook… but you almost want him to be. He’s Erik.

And you can’t love a murderer, so your face remembers to twist in horror.

It must be so fake that Jungkook’s smile doesn’t falter.

—————

Bidding farewell to the crew, cast, and audience doesn’t distract you from your thoughts. It’s your mistake during the play that you should be pondering on, but it is only the identity of Erik that you’re thinking of. No one’s around any longer, but you don’t notice the silence in the whole theatre while you stare at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room. Such a big production… but you’re not even worried about it. You sigh at yourself.

Tuning back to reality, your eyes trail to the reflection of a man behind you. You gasp in fright before turning around in your stool. How long has he been standing there?

He shudders when you lock eyes, still in his phantom costume without the mask as he stands before you in all his glory. “Christine…” he breathes in awe.

“Who— who are you?”

“I’m your Raoul,” he whispers affectionately. “But I couldn’t…”

You swallow hard, alarmed by the confirmation. “J-Jungkook?”

You don’t expect the reaction you receive: he releases a shaky breath with a broken moan, eyes screwing shut and head tilting back. It’s an orgasmic feeling for him to finally hear you say his name when he’s moaned yours countless nights throughout the years.

“You’re not allowed to be here,” you try to steady your voice. Your hand clutches the armrest until your knuckles turn white; you’re panicked but you can’t show it. He reacts by staring at you adoringly. You stand on your wobbling legs and try to aim for the exit. He blocks it by stepping in your direction with one stride. You attempt to dodge him, but he repeats the action. “Jungkook, I-I need to go home.”

“Don’t leave,” he pleads and hovers a hand over your shoulder. You stare at it wide-eyed. “You haven’t said anything to me in so long. Please talk to me.”

“Did you do something to Namjoon?”

He flinches as if you burned him with your fierce gaze, taken aback by your blunt accusation. “H-He has an injury.”

“From?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. The panic in his expression is short-lived until he sighs in relief. “No one saw me, my love, don’t worry. I locked him in the storage room-”

“What did you do?”

“His wrist— I-”

“Oh, Jungkook,” you gasp quietly and back away from him. “How— why…”

“It’s just a fracture! He’ll heal in just a couple of days,” he begs and approaches you with slow steps. You don’t stop backing away and shake your head in denial—disbelief, rather. The wall is your end, but he doesn’t close in on you.

As the phantom once said, “For he who worships you as I do, also respects.”

“Don’t be afraid, please…”

“I’m scared,” you admit in a whisper. Your eyes are downcast and your breaths are shallow. He is incredibly soft-spoken and appears angelic, yet so intimidating within context. The gloss in his fluffy hair hides the darkness of his mind. You can’t fall for it, and in a moment of vulnerability, you dash.

The only other exit leads backstage, and then the platform. You don’t care; your feet take the initiative and attempt to outrun the tall man who chases after you. 

“Help!” you scream seconds before you’re lifted off your feet and silenced with a hand on your mouth. He’s gripping your waist as he carries you to the red seats. 

Once he has you seated, he’s quick to question your motive, “What’s wrong?! I-I didn’t do anything to you, I would never, what are you so scared of?!”

“You’re a murderer!”

He stammers with round eyes. “I-I— you know I did it for you! I granted your wish, and this is how you repay me?”

“What wish?” you hiss angrily. “I never wished for such a thing! I only wished for your support, and what did you do? You killed an innocent woman!”

“N-No, I did not,” he weakly denies with a shake of his head, “you did.” You made me.

Your lips fall into a hard line as you gawk up at him. “How… how do you know?”

It’s his turn to pause. That wasn’t the answer he expected, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y-You know about Jennie?”

His curious eyes don’t waver from your fearful ones. The fear dims when you defend yourself, and instead becomes dark, “I had to! She was constantly nagging about taking your letters to the police, and I couldn’t have her running her mouth-”

“You were protecting me?” he becomes awestruck in realization. 

You scoff and rain on his parade, “I was protecting myself. They would think I was an accomplice.”

“I would’ve kept you out of it.”

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I?” you snap with a seethe.

“But you did,” he counters, still in utter amazement as he crouches to lean into you with his hands on your knees, “I always conveyed my love for you in my letters; you knew I’d put you before myself any day when I killed Park Jihyo.”

You watch him in astonishment. You’re known for having a clear mind where you always know what you want and what you need to do to achieve it; no one could tell you otherwise and steer you away from your purpose. When you did what you had to do for your own benefit, you had no thoughts of Jungkook at that moment. 

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

You nod in a daze, “I was… subconsciously protecting you…” Is he so convincing that he made you believe you were looking out for him, or is it the truth you didn’t want to hear?

“You and I, we’ve sworn loyalty to each other,” he beams and grips your hands enthusiastically, “we share a secret that brings us together, if not our love.”

“You… really love me?” you hesitate.

He smiles warmly and loosens his tight grip without letting go. “Only with all of my being. You’ve seen me... now kiss me.”

—————

“I don’t know who did it,” Taehyung tells the detective in exasperation, “but it wasn’t Jungkook. He was with the audience when Namjoon was assaulted, and I asked him to play the phantom when I couldn’t find the damn actor.”

“Why specifically Jungkook?” the detective drawls suspiciously.

“Because he knows the play by heart, it’s literally his favorite. I only trusted him to take the part.”

Taehyung can only hope the man can’t tell he’s lying through his teeth. He wouldn’t give his brother the role when he begged for it; it’s a professional organization for God’s sake, not matchmaking! But he should’ve known Jungkook stopped at nothing, yet he can’t bring himself to give him in. 

If he slams the door shut in my face again…

—————

The paper shredder clicks as you get rid of Jungkook’s recent letters while he watches you from his spot on the couch. “I almost want to ruin your life for this,” you pout and lean his palms on the desk after turning to him. 

He chuckles, eyes turning into crescents at your whines ever since you woke up—not counting the previous days. “I’m sorry baby, you know I didn’t do it on purpose. I only got on that stage for you.”

“Yeah, and now everyone’s gushing about you,” you huff and cross your arms, “while they all criticize me for one slip-up— the one you also made!”

The only good thing to come out of that play was meeting Jungkook, because the rest is a complete disaster. No one’s playing nice with you, but at least you’re getting plenty of attention, albeit not so positive. You even got a business call for an upcoming series this morning! But Jungkook, the bastard, had to silence his phone from the amount of people trying to steal him for plays, movies, and even for a damn record label. 

“So unfair,” you sigh just as he sits up to give you a light hug. He sways with his head laying on yours, and you lean against his chest without hugging him back.

“I’ll turn down everyone,” he reassures quietly with dimmed eyes, “I can’t have my baby being upset with me.”

A smile grows on your face. “Thank you.”

“But… I could also do the opposite and recommend you to every director, providing the fame and fortune I promised you,” he suggests with a lopsided grin that you can’t see.

“I think I love you.”

Jungkook has always been dedicated to you, doing things you didn’t know you wanted until he did it for you, landing you your role, getting rid of Jennie’s decaying corpse from your closet, and allowing you to depend on him without making you forfeit your independence. He’s just so perfect for you… It has you wondering if Christine made the wrong decision by choosing Raoul instead of Erik.

It doesn’t matter however, because now you get to keep Erik all to yourself.