The bus jolted forward, jerking Beom Seok out of his thoughts.
A girl wearing a hoodie plopped down beside him without hesitation—frizzy hair, a slight scowl, one hand gripping a plastic umbrella, the other steadying her phone.
Behind them, a high schooler's phone blared loud music. Something familiar.
Beom Seok froze for a second—oh. It was BTSB (Be The Superstar Boys).
He glanced at the girl beside him. She let out a tired sigh and pulled out one earbud.
"Tsk."
Beom Seok hesitated. "Why are you annoyed? Do you... dislike BTSB?"
She turned her head toward him, one eyebrow raised. "BTSB? What—behind-the-scenes bloopers?"
"…No. Not drama bloopers. The idol group."
"Oh." She paused, genuinely puzzled. "Well, no. I don't hate them. But a lot of girls talk about this BTSB idol thingy, and I just assumed it was a cute acronym for behind-the-scenes bloopers. Unique group name, if you ask me."
He blinked slowly. "You... really don't know them?"
She tilted her head thoughtfully. "What? It makes sense! And then there's always that one name floating around—Bom Sock, right? Which is funny, considering bom means bomb in Indonesian and sock is, well, an English word for sock. Imagine naming yourself Bomb Socks. That's bold and hilarious."
He nearly choked on air. "It's... not Bom Sock. It's Bomsok. Like how you pronounce Beom Seok."
She shrugged. "Not into idol stuff. I'm more of an anime girl. VA deep-dives, fan theory forums, that kind of thing. So all that idol chatter just goes whoosh over my head."
"…Have you at least heard of the members?" he asked.
She waved a hand. "Sure, the names get thrown around. There's… um, Nope—"
"Hope," he corrected.
She frowned. "Really? I thought it was Nope, because I only ever caught the -ope part. Figured Nope was right."
"It's Hope. Like... optimism." He tried not to sound defensive, but the girl's confidence in her wrongness was... astonishing.
"Oh." She paused. "Okay."
He sighed quietly.
She kept going. "Then there's Luwo."
"Luo," he muttered. "It's Seoul reversed. Kind of. Stylized."
"Right," she said, clearly unimpressed. "Idols and their stage names."
Beom Seok silently reevaluated everything.
She wasn't done. "And then there's that Bom Sock guy, obviously—"
He winced.
"—Secretary? Or is it S? And, uh… Jaemin or maybe Jun? Sounds like a traditional Korean side dish, with how normal it sounds."
He stared, utterly stunned.
"What?" she said flatly. "I'm not trying to offend. I'm just not into K-pop. I'd rather finish season four of my Naruto rewatch than memorize a list of stage names."
"They're two different people."
She looked up. "What?"
"Jun and Jaemin hyung are two separate people," he repeated, visibly offended.
She shrugged. "I don't even see them. I just hear their names when girls squeal at bus stops or someplace. It's like being surrounded by static with fangirl subtitles."
He stared.
"What?" she said, entirely unbothered. "I know Naruto's voice actor by heart. That counts for something."
"You're really Korean?" he blurted before he could stop himself.
She slowly turned to him. "Did you just question my nationality because I don't know your favorite idol group?"
"I—okay. That was unfair."
He chuckled awkwardly and tried again. "Well... what about Bomsok? He's the golden maknae. You must've heard of him."
She squinted. "Golden maknae? That means he's the youngest with blond-dyed hair, right?"
"…Not necessarily," said Beom Seok, who currently had black, undyed hair, hidden behind a mask to stay anonymous.
"So do you fantasize about him or something? Is that why you're shocked I don't know BTSB? I bet your bias is Bom Sock."
"Bomsok," he corrected gently, failing to hide his grin.
"Sure," she said. "That Bom of Socks guy."
The bus slowed near her stop.
She reached up, pressed the bell, then glanced sideways again. "Seo Jin-ah," she said, introducing herself. "So, who are you really, masked man?"
He looked at her and decided to take the risk—just this once, because she didn't know him.
"Jang Beom Seok."
She paused at the door. "Whoa. Even your name sounds like that idol's—Bomsok, right? Not Bom Sock guy?" she teased.
He couldn't help it—he laughed.
And she, completely unaware that she had been poking fun at the very person she was talking to, stepped off the bus into the misty gray, leaving a very amused Beom Seok behind.
She's gone.
Just like that—off the bus, into the mist, umbrella swinging like she didn't just wreck my entire stage persona in under five minutes.
"Bom of Socks," she said.
Bom. Of. Socks.
I've performed in stadiums. Sung live on national TV. Trained for six years under spotlights, cameras, screaming fans. And now? I'm reduced to… Bomb Socks. Explosive footwear.
And yet...
Behind the mask, I'm grinning. Like an idiot.
Because she wasn't afraid of me. She didn't ask for a photo. She didn't whisper, "Is that really Bomsok under that mask?" She didn't even try to be polite.
She just… talked.
No filter. No pressure. No agenda.
She called Seonmul hyung's stage name S "Secretary," for crying out loud. Nozomu hyung's stage name Hope became "Nope." Jaemin and Jun hyung blurred into one person because their names sound too normal for her to tell apart.
God. She's like a glitch in the matrix. An actual Korean girl who doesn't care about idols.
Do those even exist?
Or maybe… she just cares about her own world more. Naruto rewatches. VA forums. Things I never touch because I'm too busy being a golden maknae.
If only she knew.
If only she knew the boy she mocked was the exact one sitting next to her.
But somehow… I don't want her to know.
Not yet.
Because for once, someone looked me in the eye and didn't see a brand. Didn't see perfection or fantasy. Just a guy on a bus with bad timing.
And maybe… I want to talk to that kind of person again.
Even if she thinks my name means Bomb Socks.
…I hope I can meet her again.
A woman who doesn't know me.