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Rumi waved good-bye to a small group of fans, subtly stretching her back as she did so. She and the girls were having the first of many fan meetings they had scheduled after returning from their well-earned— and very well deserved —three month hiatus. This one was an outdoor meet-and-greet styled event. Fans lined up to get as up close and personal as the idols ever allowed officially; taking photos, signing things, receiving gifts and the occasional hug.
Rumi had...mixed feelings about these types of events.
On the one hand, they were a great way to engage with their fans, and happy fans meant a happy Honmoon. Just because the new one— while not perfectly impenetrable —was still holding strong, that didn’t mean they could slack off in their duties.
On the other hand; Rumi was not— in her heart of hearts —a fan of socializing this much.
Oh she could— and more importantly would —absolutely fake it for hours after her social battery had already dipped down to a big fat zero; but she did not enjoy it past the first hour or so. Mira was in a similar boat, though her ability to fake it didn’t last quite as long as Rumi’s did.
Bobby learned real quick it was better to give them breaks as often as possible.
Thank god for Zoey, she thought for the umpteenth time as she watched her maknae wave the next set of fans over. For events like these, Mira and Rumi could get away with letting their favorite extrovert talk as much as she wanted to the fans while they hung back until it was time for their turns and to take photos. Like them, Zoey also had a limit of what she could put up with, but it was significantly higher than Rumi and Mira’s combined.
Not to mention that between the three of them, her English was the best, and they were currently having the event in the US to appear on some TV show or another later in the week; in Zoey’s hometown of Burbank, no less.
“«Hi there!»” Zoey chirped in English while Rumi turned away and risked taking a quick swig of water, “«Thank you so much for coming out today!»”
“«Thank you for coming back to the States so soon,” a woman’s voice answered, “«Lord knows we wouldn’t have been able to afford coming to see you all the way in South Korea.»”
“«We know,»” Mira responded with a nod from Rumi’s other side, visible out of the corner of her eye and looking slightly down for some odd reason, “«That’s why we like to do it; we want to give everyone as much of a chance of meeting us as possible.»”
“«Especially if it means we get to meet cuties like you~»” Zoey added, concerning Rumi for a moment before she continued, “«Hi little one, what’s your name?»”
Ah; must be a kid. That explained why she could see Mira’s head was tilted down so much from the corner of her eye. Thirst abated, Rumi dried her hand off onto her shorts from the condensation before turning fully back around.
There was still a decent crowd of people waiting in line, held back by their security, but she kept her focus on the ones directly in front of them. Standing right before the trio was a woman about their age with dark skin, a gorgeously fluffy afro, and wearing the new merch shirt from their latest comeback. Standing right behind her was the form of a child small enough that the top of their head only reached about halfway up her thigh. Hiding behind the woman like they were, all Rumi could see was one eye, staring up at Zoey, and one tiny hand grasping onto the front of the woman’s skirt for deal life.
Making sure her best smile was in place, Rumi bent down slightly and said, “«Hi there! What’s your name?»”
At the sound of her voice, the tiny eye locked onto hers and grew wide before the rest of the face decided to lean fully into view.
It was a boy; about five years old, if she were to guess. He was wearing one of their red colored shirts, and it was so big on him that it had been knotted to one side in order to not hang down too low. His hair was as curly as the woman’s, if a smidge lighter in color, and Rumi thought she saw a family resemblance between the two, but she was honestly more focused on his face. While most of it was the same hue as his guardian’s, patches of it around his eyes, nose and mouth were so pale it was like someone had splashed bleach on him and washed the color out like it was an old t-shirt. With the way the sections were laid out, it almost looked like he was wearing a little mask.
Between his height and the marks, he kind of reminded Rumi of a red panda and she fought hard to not coo over how cute he looked.
“«Go ahead, Rico,»” the woman urged with a smile, nudging him forward gently, “«Just like we practiced.»”
Blinking back into the moment, Rumi watched as ‘Rico’ fiddled with his fingers; she realized his hands had patches too, making them look like he was wearing fingerless gloves. He looked bashfully down at the ground for a moment, before he bit his lip and looked straight up at Rumi. His little brow furrowed, and when he finally spoke, Rumi was surprised to hear Korean coming out.
It was slow, and the pronunciation was a smidge off, but it was clear nonetheless.
“Hello! My...name...is...Rico!” he sounded out carefully, the words clearly foreign in his mouth, “And...I...like...your...stripes!”
Someone was squealing. Loudly. It sounded like Zoey, but honestly could have been Mira.
Rumi didn’t think it was herself. Mainly because she’d slapped both of her hands over her own mouth as soon as Rico’s small words landed somewhere in her chest with the force of a sledgehammer, sending her back half a step. His voice had been a little on the quiet side, but the crowd behind him had quieted down enough that she still managed to hear him just fine.
She allowed herself a full second to get her shit together, before she lowered her hands and crouched down until she was eye-level with the little boy.
“«Hi Rico,»” she said softly; smile now wholly and completely genuine, “«My name is Rumi; and I love your spots!»”
Rico beamed, showing a toothy smile that was shy one front tooth. Like a floodgate had been cracked he began spilling out words like it was his job; telling her how cool he thought she was and how he’d seen her on the TV and how all his friends at school were always dancing to HUNTR/X’s songs and Rumi smiled and nodded along to every word; managing to catch most of them even though he had switched to only using English. The only time she really interrupted him was to ask if she could give him a hug. He more than happily obliged, squeezing her so tight she felt like her ribs were creaking.
She felt like she could have listened to him talk about nothing all day; but they had other fans they had to see and she had a job to do.
Mira and Zoey took their own turns hugging him; faux-pouting when their hugs didn’t last nearly as long as Rumi’s had. Then they all signed his shirt and the shirt of his big sister, Maria, who requested her own hug from them all after taking their picture with Rico.
She saved Rumi for last, and the violette quickly figured out why.
“Thank you,” she murmured into Rumi’s ear in Korean, before pulling back. When she did, Rumi was shocked to see tears in her eyes in spite of the warm smile still on her face.
“You’re the first role model he’s ever had that looked like him. That had ’spots’ like him. He’s always been so...aware, of what he looks like, with his «vitiligo». So; thank you. So much!”
Rumi felt her throat close up just enough that she knew if she tried to say even a fraction of what she wanted to, it would come out a garbled mess. So instead she gave a nod and a smile that she could feel was wobblier than it had any business being, and waved good-bye to both of them as they finally had to walk away.
“You okay?” Mira asked softly, stepping close to one of her sides while Zoey mirrored her on the other.
“Nope~” Rumi confessed, tilting her head back and taking several deep breaths.
“Wanna grab a quick break?” Zoey suggested.
“...Yes, but also no; because if I stop now I am going to start crying and I do not want to have puffy eyes for the rest of this event.”
“Heh. Well we appreciate your honesty,” Mira chuckled, giving her a friendly nudge.
“They’re due to cap the line in about ten minutes, so we’re coming up on the homestretch; but that’s still, like, a good hour to go,” Zoey warned gently, “You’re sure you’re good?”
Rumi took another deep breath, slowly releasing it and allowing her eyes to sweep over the long line of fans they’d yet to meet. Fans who probably wouldn’t have a chance to meet them like this for a long time, if ever again.
Fans like Rico.
“...I’m good. For the fans? I could hold it for two hours!”
“Hate that you can do that, but lovin’ the tenacity.”
“Lol; you sound like Bobby, Mira!”
“That is a compliment and- Did you just say ‘lol’ outloud?”
“I did and I regret nothing because all words are made up and language is nothing more than a loose social construct!”
“I don’t think that’s what that phrase means.”
“Remind me who the lyricist is again? Oh right; it me!”
Chuckling through her girls’ banter— intentionally or otherwise they always managed to bring a smile to her face —Rumi braced herself and waved the next small group of fans forward, even while keeping a certain tiny fan in the back of her mind.
The moment the event was over and the girls could finally step out of view of the public— even if only for a moment —Rumi wasted no time pulling out her phone and diving onto the internet.
It took several tries, and bashfully asking for Zoey’s help with spelling— damn English with its inconsistent spelling conventions —but eventually they managed to find the information she was looking for.
Vitiligo. A chronic autoimmune disorder characterized by the loss of pigment in the skin. It could occur anywhere on the body, but commonly around the eyes, mouth, and hands.
Rumi spent the rest of the afternoon researching everything she could. It took the combined efforts of Mira and Zoey to get her to put her phone down long enough to eat.
“You doing okay?” Mira asked gently as she passed out their takeout containers in the living room of their hotel suite; the three of them ignoring the dining room table completely in favor of simply sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch, their haul spread out across the coffee table.
“Yeah,” Rumi answered, popping open a box of food, “-I just...didn’t expect to find what I did.”
“Wha’d you fin’? Zoey mumbled around the food she’d already shoved in her mouth.
Rumi poked at her food; mentally chewing on her words for a few moments before deeming them fit enough to share with her girls.
“...I read a bunch of the medical stuff. Like symptoms, supposed causes, treatments- Did you know that over seventy million people have it? All over the world?”
“No, I didn’t,” Mira replied softly.
“That’s a lot of people,” Zoey added quietly right before the next shovelful of food.
Rumi nodded. “Yeah... I read a lot of the- the clinical stuff before I finally found stuff by real people. Posts, threads; whole blogs by people talking about their condition and how it’s affected them. How it’s affected how others treat them.”
She felt Mira press her thigh firmer against hers; Zoey doing the same with her shoulder on Rumi’s other side. She borrowed strength from their warmth and kept going.
“A lot of them wrote about bullying. About feeling ashamed over something that they had no control over. Hating having to cover up what marks they could and putting make-up where they couldn’t. Hating watching the marks grow over time and- ...and afraid of what the people closest to them might think. The ones who didn’t already know about them...”
“...I’m guessing that rang a few familiar bells?” Zoey asked; flashing Rumi a crooked little smile when she turned to look at her.
“Almost too many to count,” Rumi answered, pressing a quick kiss to the cheek nearest to her. “...But, that’s not what hit me the most. Or- Maybe it is? I don’t know. It’s- It’s hard to explain-”
“-And you don’t have to do it now if you don’t want to,” Mira assured her, “We can wait.”
Rumi smiled at her, for a moment, before her gaze fell back down to her still untouched food.
“...I’ve been thinking about my patterns, every moment of every day ever since I first understood what they were and what they meant,” she confessed quietly, “I thought about every, single, scenario where they get revealed; the good, the bad, and the worst. How you two would react- How the world would react, whether they knew what they meant or not. And- And I am so grateful for how the world has reacted. Grateful that it’s been better than what I’d feared. There have been haters, naturally; idols just don’t...look like me-”
“They do now,” Mira stated with a huff, “-Because you are an idol, and you look like this-”
“-And therefore this is what idols look like!” Zoey finished with a blinding grin.
“It’s called trendsetting; the haters can get over themselves and will probably be following along sooner or later.”
“That’s just it! The whole ‘idols look like me’ part! That- I just- Ugh!” Her words failed to cooperate, bottlenecking somewhere between her mind and throat. She plopped her box onto the coffee table so her hands could be free for her face to burrow into.
Two hands appeared on her back, rubbing soothing circles while Rumi tried to corral her words back into some resemblance of order. Her palms moved up enough to free up her mouth and she mumbled what she could towards the carpet.
“...I’ve imagined the consequences of exposing my patterns, for my entire life... But I never, not for a single second, ever imagined that doing so would be good for someone else. Th-That it would benefit anyone, except maybe to help Gwi-Ma by him using it against me. But Rico-” her voice cracked at the same time the seal holding back tears she hadn’t even realized were forming broke, sending them streaming silently down her cheeks.
“-Rico saw my patterns- saw my ‘stripes’- and instead of fear or-or revulsion or hate, he- he saw himself! He was excited to see someone who looked like him, even if only by a little bit, and I didn’t- I never-”
The hands on her back shifted; becoming arms that wrapped around her like the world’s greatest blanket. Someone’s lips pressed against her hairline while another’s thumb gently wiped at her tears.
“I- I’ve always felt alone. Like, there was no one else in the world like me, except for literal soul stealing monsters,” Rumi hiccuped, nearly nipping at her own tongue, “But- But I was wrong! There is someone like me! He’s- He’s five, and loves Pokémon, and looks so much like a little red panda that I just want to squeeze him with a hu-uh-ugggg!”
The dam broke completely and Rumi’s shoulders began to shake with the force of her own sobs.
“Oh my god, he doessss!” Zoey whined, joining her in tears. Mira followed along shortly after, in spite of her best efforts to remain strong.
The trio hugged, cried, hugged some more, and eventually started to actually eat their dinner once said crying worked up enough of an appetite to remind them what food was.
Later, after the tears had largely dried, comforting words had been said, and the girls had muk-jji-ppa’d their way into deciding whose bed they would be sharing that night, Zoey squealed and shoved her phone screen into Rumi’s half-dozing face.
“Maria posted her photo!”
Instantly wide awake, Rumi all but snatched the phone out of her hands, staring at the screen and fully unaware of the smile that was growing on her face.
It was a fairly standard picture, all things considered. Mira and Zoey were crouched behind Rumi, who was kneeling down on the ground with her arms wrapped around Rico’s shoulders, her cheek pressed against his; all four of them beaming like it was the best day ever. And if Rumi’s smile in particular was a bit wider, a bit goofier, a bit more genuine than it usually was with the fans? She didn’t think anyone but those closest to her would really notice.
For sure no one else but those who could already see the Honmoon could have clocked how brightly her patterns had glowed during the interaction; though she did quietly mourn that the camera had been unable to capture it as well.
The caption read “Rico’s first #HUNTR/X fan event!!!” and only added fuel to the warmth building in Rumi’s chest.
“Mira can you pass me my phone, please?” she asked, carefully sharing the link with herself. Maria had been sure to tag it with the day’s event, but Rumi wanted to comment on it as soon as possible before it was potentially lost deep in the tag.
“Send it to me as well?” Mira requested as she passed the device over, which Rumi happily obliged. All three of them double checked they were on their official accounts before they responded to the post. Zoey reacted to the photo with no less than six different emojis conveying excitement and sheer glee. Mira gave a shout out to Maria directly and complimented her on what she did with Rico’s shirt. Rumi mulled over her words for a minute before settling on being short and sweet.
|It was awesome to meet you, Rico! Never stop loving your spots! ♡♥♡
She double checked her spelling, clicked ‘post’, and smiled at seeing the comment appear immediately beneath Zoey and Mira’s. She even went a step further and reblogged the entire post to her own timeline.
Satisfied, she passed her phone back to Mira to resume charging on the nightstand. She then cuddled up with two of her favorite people in the entire world and drifted off to sleep; sighing contentedly over a good day and a job well done.
It was three days of being booked solid before any of them realized the post had gone viral.
The post— after Rumi had shared it on her account —had been further shared by die-hard fans to various other sites and forums, to no ones immediate surprise; even the most mundane of their posts gained a plethora of hits when they were shared. What was surprising— though in hindsight it probably shouldn’t have been —was that there were other HUNTR/X fans who also had vitiligo. Who had resonated with Rumi’s “genetic skin condition”— as they had chosen to publicly spin the patterns —but unlike Rico and Maria had not yet worked up the courage to speak up about it.
They soon found their courage when Rumi share the post; when she publicly and proudly commented, “Never stop loving your spots!”
The effect was nearly immediate. People began posting their own pictures, of their own “spots”; each one tagged #loveyourspots.
The tag broke containment after barely a day; leaving the HUNTR/X centered parts of the internet and migrating outward alongside anyone else with vitiligo.
And then people with other skin conditions started using the tag.
And people with scars, of all kinds and origins.
People with “imperfections” that had left them feeling ostracized by those around them. Left them feeling ashamed.
People who felt like Rumi had felt; even if they didn’t know the full extent.
The tag was flooded with people: sharing their photos, their stories, and screaming affirmations to themselves and each other into the ever shifting void of the internet.
And Rumi— once the initial shock, awe, and “Oh... They’re like me.” finally wore off —wasted no time before getting to work.
She scrolled through the entire tag, on multiple platforms, and liked every single one she could find; barring the inevitable negative ones, which she blocked on sight, though mercifully those were few and far between. Every moment she wasn’t performing or doing interviews or promos or anything else, she was on her phone; scrolling, liking, and sometimes dropping a comment or two.
It got to the point where Bobby suggested she make a full on statement on the subject. She spent three full days working on it, spitballing ideas and phrases off of her girls and seeking reaffirming cuddles from them in equal measure whenever it simply got to be too much.
In the end, she posted the statement on the same platform Maria had originally used for her own post; making sure to tag her account directly in the hopes that she and Rico would see it as soon as possible. The picture that went with it was a simple selfie; showing her from the waist up in front of their dance studio mirror, minimal make-up, free hand held up with a small heart next to a warm smile, and an iridescent crop top that showcased as many of her patterns as she could without being completely exposed.
Beneath the picture, was this:
I was raised to hide my condition as much as possible, out of fear of what would happen in an industry so focused on perfection. There was love behind the choice, but it did not make my life any easier and it almost cost me more than I can ever fully admit. I have many regrets about the choices I’ve made, about not revealing my “stripes” sooner, but the biggest regret was not considering how doing so could have had a positive affect on the world.
I have spent the past few weeks lurking in the #loveyourspots tag and have cried so many times at seeing people coming forward into the light to share their smiles and stories that we had to order whole cases of tissues to the penthouse; twice!
Thank you all so much! For your support of me and for each other.
Thank you for showing me that I am not alone.
I love you. Spots, stripes, and all.
May the light always find our jagged edges~♡
#HUNTR/X #Rumisays #loveyourspots #andyourstripes #ThankYouRicoandMaria
It obtained an obscene amount of likes and reblogs within an hour of her posting it, and Mira and Zoey would have laughed at the teary-eyed look of awe on Rumi’s face as she watched the number climb ever higher if they weren’t busy crying themselves.
And on the other side of the planet, a little boy stared at the photo as his big sister read the caption out loud for him-
-and absolutely beamed.