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3:09pm
I, and I cannot stress this enough, hate it here.
Okay, maybe Namjoon is over exaggerating a bit. He actually likes being in America.
He is grateful that their fans have provided such a blessed path to success because their fans saw potential in them.
It’s not just the record labels and commercials and other groups seeing them as “idols” that get them going, the anti-fans and the-fans-that-claim-they-are-a-fan-but-isn’t-actually-a-fan and those use their name for clout. Also, a nice shout out to the haters that cannot keep their name out their fucking mouth and want to run it like diarrhea. Your breath smells like shit, and reeks of humility.
Their fans, ARMY, are the one that humbles them and remind them of their true purpose in why they decide to pursue music in the first place.
But for goodness sakes Namjoon can only handle so many questions about other artists and when they are going to put out English albums and who are their girlfriends and their favorite American foods like ask him about the music process. Ask them questions that were given by their fans.
Matter of fact have their fans interview them. Give them a chance to play with them, hang out with them, be thankful for them.
So actually, yes, he hates it here right now in this moment because if another interviewer ask him one more question about anything that does not relate to BTS he is going to walk out and catch the first flight back to South Korea so he could have a tantrum in his bed.
After the multitude of interviews and radio shows with the same repetitive questions being asked over and over, he isn’t surprised that his skull is doing somersaults in his head.
“Namjoon, we’re getting ready to go back to our hotel rooms.” Jimin announced, rubbing his shoulder to gather his attention with a sympathetic smile painted over his face.
He didn’t realize that they were waiting on him.
Did he fall asleep?
When did he get on the couch?
How the hell did he end up in the green room?
Namjoon was awaken from his inner thoughts by a tug from Jimin, who decided to take matters into his own hand and drag Namjoon to their appointed vehicles to chauffer the boys back to the hotel to prepare for dinner.
He does not know if he can handle being in America any longer. His brain is starting to blow a fuse with the amount of English speaking he has been doing.
He does not know how much longer he can English before getting tongue tied and shutting down.
6:13pm
There was a knock on his hotel room door that awoken Namjoon from his fatigue induced nap. He groaned, balancing himself on his elbows and squinting at the door before mustering up the energy to yell, “It’s open!”
However, the knocking persisted, and Namjoon proceeded to flop on his back as he scrubs at his headache that was now a migraine.
When they got back to the hotel, the boys were free to rest for a few hours before getting ready to meet up and eat dinner together. Feeling overwhelmed and starting to feel a headache coming, Namjoon vaguely remembers toeing off his shoes and flopping onto the fresh new sheets on the made bed, the doings fulfilled by the daily room service, before unintentionally falling asleep in an awkward position.
Now, being awoken by persistent knocking, Namjoon furrows his eyes onto his watch as he notices that he is very late to their agreed meet up time at 6pm and is not nearly close to being ready.
“Namjoon, open the fucking door!” Hoseok ordered, followed by more intense knocking. He’s sure that Hoseok’s knuckles are bruised at this point.
Namjoon groans again, his head feelings ten times heavier and his eyesight still fuzzy as he waddles hesitantly towards the door, opening it to a frustrated Hoseok who invites himself into the small space. “You look like you just woke up. We have been waiting for you for over twenty minutes! You didn’t answer your phone!”
It took a second to register that Hoseok was talking to him, Namjoon’s head was throbbing way too much to focus, better yet stand. He leans against the door, struggling to lift his head as he strains the rest of his energy to stare at Hoseok. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just woke up from a nap I did not plan on taking.”
“You alright? You do not look so good.” Hoseok frowns, silently appraising him as he finally notices the condition Namjoon is in.
“I have a migraine.” Namjoon admits, kneading the palm of his hands into his eyes as he blindly walks towards the bathroom to brush the sleep out of his mouth. He hears Hoseok following him in worry.
“Are you sure you do not want to stay here and rest? We can bring you back food?” As much as Namjoon wants to take him up on the offer and go back the fuck to sleep, it seems like everyone in BTS have a death wish and wants to self-inflict torture.
“Give me five minutes to collect myself. I’ll meet you down at the lobby.” Namjoon promise, nearly gagging on his toothbrush as he hopes Hoseok can make out what he was trying to relay.
Hoseok gets the message, thankfully, not breaking eye contact as he walks slowly out of his hotel room. Once he hears the door click, Namjoon allows tears to fall from his eyes, turning off the bathroom light and wincing as he tries to shut out any natural lights from the windows before quickly changing into clothes he did not sleep in and wore during the interviews before stopping in front of his door.
Namjoon takes in a deep inhale, holding it in for a few seconds before slowly releasing it. Gripping onto his phone and hotel room key in one hand, he uses the other to open the door to possibly one of his biggest mistakes he made today.
7:30pm
This is possible one of the worst mistakes he ever made not taking the offer to stay in his hotel room and sleep his life away instead of this clusterfuck of his bandmates being drunk and chaotic.
He was not the only sober one, thankfully. Taehyung was giving concerned glances the entire night to everyone as he continues to sip his coke.
Namjoon scarfed down his plate of fettuccine alfredo and a cup of water before nursing a glass of sprite with a paper straw.
He does not recall, but he is pretty sure he entered the restaurant with only a migraine that makes him want to take out his own skull because right now, he can feel his stomach slosh angrily as he is slightly moving due to the movements of the other members.
Why did they decide to sit in a booth?
He is sure that Jungkook drank more than he can tolerate, because the young boy on his right is slumped against the wall and semi-conscious. Across from him in a similar state was beet red Hoseok who was silently staring at everyone as he reevaluates his whole entire life. Across from Jungkook was Taehyung staring at everyone in judgement and immediate regret of being the sober one.
On his left was chaotic central. Yoongi and Seokjin being loud as hell, with an aegyo battle between Seokjin and Jimin and Yoongi complaining in annoyance.
His migraine has intensified tenfold, and he can feel his food digesting incorrectly in his abdomen as a cramp was starting to make Namjoon acknowledge its’ existence. With the bouncing of hyper Jimin on his immediate left, continuing to entertain Seokjin and Yoongi across from him, Namjoon sense he should probably head to the bathroom or get some fresh air. His arms are getting sore from holding his head in his hands.
“Jimin.” Namjoon croaked, not trusting himself to raise his voice any higher. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Drunk Jimin immediately sobered up, staring in concern before scooting out of the booth and allowing Namjoon space to follow. Jimin sits back down soon after, his trial run of sobriety has ended and drunk Jimin was now back in full effect.
It took a few minutes for Namjoon to find the bathroom, having to ask a few servers for directions as he opens the door to be blinded by incandescent lights to illuminate the establishment.
He heads towards the sink, cupping his hands into a makeshift bowl as he bends down to splash his face in cold water. He heads a squeak of the door opening behind him, but he nearly shat himself when he glanced in the mirror to find Yoongi standing behind him.
“Taehyung offered to drive us to the hotel.” Yoongi hiccups.
Standing was starting to get difficult, as apparently a dizzy spell also wants to make a special guest appearance. Namjoon leans against the sink as he turns his body towards Yoongi who was leaning his entire body against the wall behind him.
“Who is going to take home the rest of the members?” Namjoon remembers meeting up with the rest of the members, but he cannot recall how he got there in the first place.
“Seokjin is taking the rest of the members home. He drove you here with Hoseok, remember?” Yoongi’s brow furrow in concerns, body waving himself off the wall as he stumbles towards Namjoon. “You do not look so good, buddy.”
“I don’t feel so good.” Namjoon grumbles. Everyone keep telling me what I look like. Miss me with that bullshit, I know I look horrible.
“Do you think you can walk? I’m a little too drunk to let you put your weight on me, and much shorter than you.” The second half of his sentence ended in a hiccup that led to Yoongi slapping his mouth with bug eyes before turning towards an empty stall.
Namjoon sighs, using the wall to hold himself upright as he dials for Taehyung to come get them.
“Tae, can you come get us? We’re in the bathroom.” Namjoon whispers, voice being cut out by Yoongi’s gagging.
“You know, being sober isn’t that bad. Maybe you guys should try it sometimes.” Namjoon knows Taehyung cares and loves them, but he’s sure the continuous interviews and being shuffled around places has made Taehyung a bit on edge but fuck his sarcasm.
Namjoon hangs up on Taehyung, sliding down onto the disgusting tile floors before bringing his knees to his chest, resting his folded arms on top and following it by placing his head down in hopes to alleviate the fact that the room just won’t stop spinning.
Yoongi places himself next to Namjoon, resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder as he wraps his arm around him gently.
They stayed like this for what felt like an eternity before Taehyung barges into the bathroom in worry as he shakes Yoongi awake, which as a domino effect shook Namjoon awake. It took a few seconds for Yoongi to recognize what was going on, but Namjoon was way too disoriented and dizzy to understand that Taehyung was trying to piggy-back him out of the establishment.
He could not help but be embarrassed as the trio made their way out of the restaurant and into one of the rental cars. Seokjin managed to gather the rest of the members and is currently in the parking lot waiting to see Taehyung leave before following the car back to the hotel.
As soon as he felt the leather seat touch his exposed arms, he immediately laid down and cradled his legs as close to his chest as he can. Namjoon barely hears the shutting and opening of the car doors before the rumblings of the car bring turned on snap him slightly awake. He opens his eyes slightly to see Taehyung checking the mirrors and sending a brief text to what he guesses is Seokjin and catches Yoongi adjusting himself in the passenger seat for a drunk car nap.
Namjoon watches for a few minutes longer before feeling himself drift asleep.
11:45pm
Namjoon wakes up in his bed, his white t-shirt sticking to his skin from sweating profusely. He pried the bedsheets from his sticky skin as he waddles towards the thermostat in his hotel room.
Why is it so goddamn hot?
But as he blinks a few time in his glasses to see the numbers on the thermostat, it is in fact, cold as hell in his room.
“Namjoon, is everything okay?”
The voice nearly scared Namjoon out of his clothes, turning towards the sound so fast he’s sure all the sweat beads that was resting comfortably on his tanned skin yeeted itself off.
The voice turns out to be Jungkook, and he lets out the breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he tries to decipher if his heart was the loud thumping in his ear or his migraine retired from the back of his eyes to the side of his head.
Wait.
Why the hell is Jungkook in his bed?
When the hell did Namjoon get dressed in his bed?
How the hell did he get in his hotel room?
Apparently Namjoon expressed all of his thoughts out loud, earning a giggle from Jungkook as he sits himself up on his elbows with a grin.
“You were kind of out of it, Taehyung told me. Seokjin thought it would be easier if we bunked with someone since he did not feel comfortable with all of us being drunk in our own rooms. So that is why I decided to sleep with you. Also, if you were to get sick throughout the night, even though I’m a bit hungover I have the strongest stomach to handle it.”
Namjoon crawls back into bed, there is too much going on and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take the room spinning around and around endlessly.
“We were all a bit discombobulated, so we decided to let you sleep it off a bit before we tried to give you medicine. It would have been a disaster trying to tend to you being sick and we’re all a bit drunk.” Jungkook giggles, still a bit drunk and starting to feel the hangover symptoms. “Do you want to try and take some medicine?”
Namjoon feels Jungkook trying to take his temperature with his clammy hands. He closes his eyes harder as he feels his migraine and stomach throbbed immensely.
“You feel a bit too warm for it to be normal, and I’m guessing your stomach hurts too along with your migraine?” Jungkook assess, dragging himself out of the bed as he tries to maneuver in the dark to find his toiletry bag that he grabbed from his own hotel room.
He hears footsteps heading towards what he assumes is the bathroom as a he then hears a flick of the bathroom lights being turned on. Guess Jungkook could not read in the dark.
His stomach got straight to the point, no longer just cramping but starting to roll immensely, causing his skin to crawl with nausea as his mouth started to water at an alarming rate.
“Jungkook.” Namjoon swallowed, unable to shake off the weary feeling. “Can you bring a trashcan?”
He then hears hurried footsteps, followed by the clang of the metal waste bin being placed on the hardwood floors. Namjoon then feels Jungkook trying to hoist him into an upright position, placing the cold metal waste bin in his lap.
Getting down to business and not wasting any more time, Namjoon lurched into the bin with a harsh gag, shifting uncomfortably as he barrels forward again with a retch, successfully bringing up a small wave of bile before his dinner made a reappearance into the bin.
Another wave of vomit raked his throat as he whines, gripping the bin for dear life as his stomach twisted endlessly. He feels Jungkook rubbing his back and whispering what he assumes is sweet nothings in his ear to comfort him, but he Is soon interrupted again with a painful spasm, vision blurring in tears as a sob swelled in his chest.
He gagged a few times more before he trusts himself to move the waste bin away, out of breath and faint while the room tilts. Jungkook catches the waste bin, saving it from teetering over and spilling the gross contents inside before heading to the bathroom to wash it out.
Everything he thought hurts increased in tenfold. His jangly limbs no longer able to hold him upright as he feels himself fall back into the bed in exhaustion.
He hears the lights flicker off before being acquainted with Jungkook sliding himself back into the bed. He thrust a couple of pills towards Namjoon’s mouth, to which he took gingerly and accepted the water bottle that was also thrusted into Namjoon’s hands to wash down.
He allows Jungkook to pull him into to an embrace, as much as he normally does not like to cuddle and is very much too hot to handle another person’s body heat, he is in too much pain to care about his feelings as he accepts the offer in hopes of a peaceful slumber.
They have a radio interview tomorrow before taking a break for the rest of the day. Namjoon believes that everything will be fine by morning. It is probably just him eating too fast at dinner, accompanied by the growing exhaustion from work.
Everything will be fine.
9:50am
He does not know where he went wrong in life exactly, because everything is not fine.
He woke up to puke his brains out a couple more times throughout the night, and sadly alone in the darkness of the cold tile floors in his hotel bathroom because Jungkook is a hard person to wake up, especially if he is drunk.
His whole body is sore, and his migraine reduced itself to a headache, but the world is still spinning.
It like asking ‘how worse can this get?’ and expecting the answer to be not as dramatic as he thought and hopefully laughing out his anxiety. But, of course not, because what would be the fun of that?
Nope, life gave a big ‘fuck you’ to Namjoon, and the answer measuring how things can get worse is with things getting abso-fucking-lutely worse.
The boys all have gathered in the lobby of the hotel, dressed to impressed and hungover as hell. Some were trying to hide it, like Hoseok who was obnoxiously dressed in all designer wear. But some were completely transparent, such as Jimin wearing shades and gulping a bottle of water. Taehyung and Seokjin glanced at each other in defeat, before scanning the rest of the members and laying their eyes on Namjoon.
He felt the stares burning in his neck, since he was too busy staring at the marble floors of the hotel lobby.
His head felt like a watermelon being split in half by Jungkook’s bare hands, and his stomach is stuck on the spin cycle of a washing machine, tossing, and turning his intestines all out of whack. He lifts his head temporarily, taking slow steps towards Seokjin and whispering in his ears. He would address it to everyone, but the amount of bones it take to move his mouth is already too many, and his jangly limbs is starting to feel like noodles and he can sense himself melting into a puddle of ‘I rather be anywhere else but here’.
Seokjin took the message gracefully, for like a moment before bellowing to his hungover brothers how Namjoon is “sick as fuck” and wants everyone to try and be more interactive during the interviews so Namjoon does not talk so much.
“We will try our best.” Jungkook smiles, patting Hoseok’s back to get his attention.
Seokjin did a double take at Taehyung, who was looking back wearily at Seokjin’s face.
“Please tell me you are not wearing that sweater. You need to actually look presentable!”
Yoongi was snapped out of his thoughts at the commotion, staring questionably at Taehyung’s choice of apparel and Seokjin’s accusation. “You know, I do not have time for this shit. The longer I stand here the closer I am to upchucking the fucks I have left to give.”
Namjoon stares at Taehyung’s cream sweater, and then mirroring the same glare Yoongi is giving to Seokjin. Someone kill me please.
“This is your sweater?!” Taehyung complains, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. Jungkook shifted towards Taehyung, leaving Hoseok baffled alone at the situation in front of him.
“Sweetie, I love you way too much to let you just humiliate yourself this way. Could you please go change?”
“…You narcissistic fuck.” Taehyung spat as he heads towards the elevators. Jimin catches him by grabbing onto the back of the sweater, gripping onto the cotton fabric as he brings him back into the pathetic bean-shaped assemblance they have going on right now.
“I don’t know about you all,” Yoongi snaps, glares at Jimin who is slowly letting go of Taehyung’s collar. “but if I have to stand here for one moment longer while you guys act like a bunch of nimrods I will personally chuck you guys one by one into oncoming traffic and treat it as if it a game of bowling.” There was a small utterance of an apology by Seokjin. “I would rather be in my bed. Asleep, having the best fucking rest of my life. Slumber to the gods. So, forgive me if I do not have the damn patience to deal with your shit today.” Yoongi grits, kissing his teeth before walking towards their assigned vehicles. Namjoon follows slowly, unable to bear with the hungover tension that left a stench in the air.
However, Namjoon feels himself slowing down as suddenly everything was spinning a bit too fast. He was getting somewhat used to the dizziness that never seem to have gone away.
He is lying to himself. He was three seconds from chucking himself onto oncoming traffic to knock himself out and end his misery, or better yet have Yoongi do it for him.
His tries to continue despite his vision blurring and making his path too fuzzy to confidently keep walking. Namjoon tried to hold his head, hoping it would calm everything down. But, one he felt his clammy hands reach his temple was when he feels himself getting heavier.
Every inhale that he took kept getting trapped, as if he was sucking through a straw. While his chest kept getting tighter from the onset panic that he was getting himself into, he was not surprised to see his vision getting spotting and everything fading to black.
“Namjoon!”
2:00pm
The first thing that Namjoon was not expecting to see as he peels his eyes open was a bed of hair puddling around his chest.
The second thing he was not expecting to smell was the sleep breath Jimin had as he stares back at Namjoon. If he can smell his breath, then that mean that’s Jimin is probably talking to him.
“Are you with me?” Jimin asks, waving the free hand that was not caved underneath his body.
“Are you talking to me?” Namjoon was still too groggy to decipher what is going on.
“Well, that is how a conversation works.” Jimin’s eyes disappearing as he smiles at Namjoon. Instead of responding any further, he takes in the view of Jimin being so close and semi-comforting if only he was not so close to his sore abdomen. He blinks slowly before laying back down onto his pillow, his energy bar running on negative.
God everything hurts.
“I am okay.” Namjoon finally answers, voice cracking from exhaustion. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and his tongue felt like a piece of cheap leather that was getting stuck in all the places he did not think it was possible to happen. “What happened?”
“You fainted.” Seokjin answers. Namjoon is having a really hard time trying to understand where all his bandmates are coming from because the last thing that he checked was that he was the only one with a room key. Who else is supposed to appear out of nowhere?
“No, I just sat down unexpectedly. There is a difference.”
“Say that to the knot at the back of your head.” Jimin laughs, lifting himself off Namjoon. He felt a bit sad, as the added weight and warmth was somewhat comforting, and much more comfortable than hotel sheets.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying.” Seokjin rebuttals, purchasing a spot where Jimin was laying down.
“Ugh, my head hurt.” Namjoon’s body has weaned from the shock and gave consent to the pain to continue flowing through his body. Luckily, he does not feel like vomiting anymore, and his dizzy spells has subsided.
“You fell down pretty hard when you fainted. We had to take you to the hospital.” Jimin frowns, placing a cool washcloth on Namjoon’s forehead. Namjoon frowns at that information before weakly lifting his arm to expose a hospital band on his wrist. He groans, closing his eyes as he tries to poke his brain for any memory holes. It did not work, as he only recalls fainting and now waking up with Seokjin and Jimin in his hotel room.
“Did you know you had the stomach flu?” Seokjin laughs. “On our way to the hospital you woke up holding your stomach and groaning in agony. Thankfully, you did not vomit until you were in the waiting room. I think out of all of us, omitting me of course, you were the one who vomited the least and had the shortest bout of it. I think you are also the one who experienced the most internal turmoil.” Seokjin pauses, cracking himself up as he retells the story. “Did you also know that you were in so much pain that when you told the doctor you were on a level eight on the pain scale the doctor looked at us as if he was scheming to sue us for emotional distress?”
Namjoon just wants to laugh, and then go jump out a window.
Of course, he gets the stomach flu a week later, in America. He could not have gotten it any time before their promotion schedules or afterwards. Only in BTS can they turn a stomach bug into a game of tag, and sadly he was it and did not even know it.
Fuck his body for playing games when he is sick, he feels like a loser no matter if he wins or not.
“My body feels broken.” Namjoon whines, resisting the urge to fold into himself and cry for the rest of his life.
“I think it is time for you to take a nice, hot bath. We have the rest of the day off, and you can spend it resting and getting well enough for our rescheduled interviews.” Jimin announces, trudging himself over to the bed from the bathroom. Namjoon and Seokjin stares, unable to recall seeing Jimin enter the bathroom in the first place.
“Only in America can we make these trips interesting.” Seokjin laughs, removing the washcloth from Namjoon’s forehead as he feels himself being helped towards the bathroom by Jimin.
“Where is everyone else?” Namjoon croaks. “Aren’t you hungover, Jimin?”
“The sooner we get you situated, the sooner I can go back to my hotel room and fall apart in peace.” Jimin answers, helping Namjoon out of his clothes while Seokjin checks the temperature of the water.
Namjoon hums in response, allowing the help that he needs as he is left alone in the bathtub to welcome the embrace of overdue warmth. He too, cannot wait to fall apart in peace and get the day over with.
Tomorrow will be a new day, and he promises that everything will be fine.