the love of my life

Love “Yoongi! Hey, Yoongi, would you wake up already?” For the past five minutes, Namjoon had been trying in vain to rouse his fellow bandmate. A muffled, drowsy voice finally emerged from beneath the covers. “N…what…?” “We have to go to school today.” “What? Do I look like a student to you?” Yoongi grumbled, blinking irritably as his head emerged from the blanket. “You wouldn’t be going if you were an ordinary man,” Namjoon explained patiently, “but you’re a member of BTS. Yeonsan High has been asking us for years to make an appearance at their ceremony. We promised recently, so now we must keep our word.” With a sigh that suggested the weight of the world had been thrust upon him, Suga dragged himself to the bathroom. An hour later, the group arrived at Yeonsan High School. The air was deafening with the shrieks of adoring fans, the flurry of security guards, and the anxious chatter of school administrators. At last, the boys were ushered into the auditorium where the ceremony began. Yoongi, who had already sunk back into his usual indifference, barely raised his eyes from the stage. Not even Namjoon’s pointed glances could drag him into attentiveness. What did these rituals matter anyway? But then the performance began. At first, it was just a simple dance — students moving in rhythm to a song. Ordinary, unremarkable. Yet his eyes suddenly fixed on one of the dancers. Not ordinary at all. She seemed to move beyond the bounds of imagination itself: graceful, radiant, like something carved from light. Her face glowed like the moon, her lips as red as a blossom in spring, and her eyes… her eyes shimmered like the sea when kissed by the sinking sun. For a man who thought nothing could surprise him anymore, Yoongi found himself disarmed. Shocked, even. Ridiculous, he told himself. He was thirty-one. She looked barely seventeen. This is wrong, Yoongi. Stop it. And yet—he could not. Later, as they signed autographs for the students, Yoongi caught himself waiting. Hoping. Perhaps she would appear. Perhaps he might ask her name. And then she came. Exactly as before. “May I have your autograph?” The girl’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. Yoongi froze as though struck by lightning. He stared, utterly lost, until Namjoon jabbed him with an elbow. Flushing scarlet, Yoongi scrawled a signature — only realizing too late that he had written not on her notebook but on her hand. Mortified, he muttered an apology and, almost shyly, asked her name. “Lunasse,” she said with a smile. “Choi Lunasse.” That night, Yoongi promised himself he would stop thinking about her. He was a grown man, after all. But dreams betrayed him, filling his sleep with visions of her. By morning, his mind was once again consumed. The next day, unable to resist, he slipped away in secret and drove to the school. He waited in his car, and at last, Lunasse appeared with her friends, laughter dancing between them. From then on, he returned each day, watching silently from a distance. But fate had other plans. Soon after, BTS was summoned for a month-long concert tour in Japan. The thought of leaving, of not seeing her for so long, dimmed Yoongi’s spirits. Still, he told himself, “A month passes in the blink of an eye.” When at last they returned to Korea, Yoongi wasted no time. He hurried straight to Yeonsan High, his heart hammering with anticipation. Yet when the school day ended, she did not appear. He waited until the grounds were empty. No sign of her. The next day was the same. And the next. Finally, desperate, he had someone inquire with the school. The answer struck like a blow. She had moved. Her entire family had left—gone to France. For a moment, the world seemed to collapse around him. Then, with characteristic resolve, he bought a ticket to Paris. But just as he was about to leave, news arrived: his mother had fallen ill, and he was needed in Daegu. Yoongi obeyed without hesitation. Three months passed before he was free to travel again. By then, the trail was faint, but he followed it relentlessly. A month of searching led him at last to an address in Paris. Breathless with hope, he rang the bell, heart racing with visions of her face. But the door opened to a stranger. The woman told him the Chois no longer lived there. Their daughter, she explained, had died during the pandemic. The family had returned to Korea. The words were translated, but Yoongi hardly needed translation. His body turned to ice. He staggered into the Paris night, grief clawing at his chest. Alone beneath the indifferent lights of the city, he wept like a man broken. At dawn, his phone buzzed endlessly. At last, irritated, he answered. “Namjoon, not now,” he rasped. “You must come to the square by the Eiffel Tower,” Namjoon’s voice was urgent. “It’s a matter of your family’s life.” Confused, fearful, Yoongi hailed a taxi, thrust all the cash he had at the driver, and ran toward the square. And then—he saw her. Just a few steps away, Lunasse stood with her back to the Tower, smiling. Radiant. Alive. For a moment, he could not move. Then, with a cry half laughter, half sob, he sprinted forward and caught her in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered fiercely, voice trembling with truth. “I’ve loved you for months, with everything in me. I only ever wanted you to be mine. I’ve found you, my love. At last, I’ve found you.” Tears of joy blurred his vision as he felt her arms wrap gently, then firmly, around him. Behind them came the sound of applause and laughter. The other members of BTS, with Namjoon at their head, and Lunasse’s parents, had all emerged to witness the reunion. “Well, look at that,” Jungkook teased, grinning. “Suga does have someone he loves.” “And so deeply,” Hoseok added, smiling warmly. Still holding Lunasse’s hand, Yoongi turned to Namjoon. “How… how did this happen?” Namjoon chuckled. “I knew from the start. When you left for Daegu, I came to Paris ahead of you and spoke with Lunasse and her family. I told them about a certain lovesick man. By the time you arrived, they had already moved. The family you found wasn’t theirs.” Yoongi could only laugh in disbelief, turning back to the girl whose eyes seemed brighter than the stars. “Then… may I hope,” he asked softly, “that my feelings are returned?” Lunasse smiled, drew him close, and whispered in his ear: “I loved you first, my love. Long before you knew.”