001
it's early. really early. definitely too early for this shit.
iseul slams the alarm off, squinting at the ceiling like it personally betrayed her. she drags herself to the bathroom to pee, still half-asleep, still cursing life in general. it’s only when she unties her sweatpants that she notices… the appendage. the very wrong appendage.
she screams. a lot.
six men come barreling into the bathroom. six. men. bts. and she screams even louder, because now it’s not just horrifying, it’s humiliating.
“yah! wh- what in the FUCK has happened here?!” she yells, shoving the eggplant back into place and throwing a full-blown tantrum. they stare at her like she’s lost her damn mind, which, technically, she kind of has.
“something is wrong. if every member of bts is here except for taehyung, why am i here with you guys?” she asks, blinking rapidly, tears of frustration forming. seriously. could they at least give a girl a warning before barging into her bathroom like it’s a fan meet?
jin is the first to speak. his calm voice is like an anchor in the hurricane of her panic.
“taehyung-ah, why are you acting like this? you were fine last night. are you alright?”
iseul freezes. taehyung? he isn’t even in here. she glances at the mirror. oh. oh no.
those features. those soft, too-perfect features. that hair. that ridiculous pout. and yet… the thoughts, the sheer existential terror, they were all hers.
“i’m not taehyung,” she whispers, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “i’m a girl from a small town in mississippi. of all places. my parents are korean, but me? mississippi. and i… i’m not even supposed to exist here.” she grabs taehyung’s phone, swipes face id, and calls her own number. when her panicked voice answers, she hands the phone to jin like it’s a bomb.
“somehow… taehyung and i switched bodies. i don’t know how or why, but it happened. and he is not going to like what i do for work,” she admits, her face heating. yoongi just glares at her like she personally ruined his life.
jimin plops down next to her, eyebrows raised.
“well… what’s your real name?”
“hwang iseul. nice to meet you,” she says, bowing awkwardly.
then, as if this nightmare wasn’t already bad enough, she squints at the phone and mutters, “oh, and by the way, taehyung… i’m a stripper.”
the room is silent for approximately 0.2 seconds before the chaos resumes.
