My Time Bts の小説・ストーリー

Charles froze. He asked, "How did you know that?" I waved my phone at him. The screen showed the "Charles' Proposal Planning Committee" group chat. Clearly, I was in it. "When… When did you join this chat?" Charles asked tremblingly. "From the start," I answered, as calm as ever.

everyone asked at the same time. “Truth me.” “Who’s your ideal man?” Grace asked. “Taehyung Oppa!” Lor answered in a heartbeat and with an ear-drilling squeal, referring to one of the seven members of the BTS boy band. “I don’t know why but every time I watch him I can feel my uterus throbbing.”

I sighed and she patted my back "Everything will be back to place, I promise and I hope you will find your memory again in the future." She smiled Suddenly my phone rings, it's my manager "You have a radio interview today, I'll pick you up now and go straight there." She said "Okay." "Work again?" "Yeah I think thats the only way for me to distract myself because I kept thinking about him." I sighed and she smiled "Go get ready." She said and I nodded After that my manager picked me up and go straight to KBS because I'm almost late. It's 4 p.m now and I have to on air at 4.10

Kola said to me as he walked in another direction leaving the stunned crowd. He turned to me and gave me his phone to hold while he brought out his wallet to pay. I glanced at the phone. Samsung. I couldn't decipher the model right away though. Somehow my hands pressed the power button and right there, the lock wall paper stared at me. It was the picture of my favorite kpop artists, BTS. I turned to him, my eyes sparkling "You know BTS?" I asked. "You are an Army? Who's your bias? Since when have you being an army? Are you an official fandom? " I asked excited.

There was no time to make him dinner. Still, I nodded. I could change my flight to 10 p.m. and let that meal be my last goodbye.

But before people could react, Manuel's cold and deep voice sounded again, "Bryant, check the time now, it's one twenty and eighteen seconds." Bryant's eyelashes had already formed a layer of red clumps, but he didn't pay any attention to it. He also didn't look at the phone Britney had placed in the middle, but instead glanced at the hands on his wrist, taking only a second to answer simply, "Yes."

"As if! That being said, feel free to ask me anything you like! I will provide you with answers to the best if my abilities." "All right. What do you think about..." We talked for a considerable amount of time. While I was unaware of the time, I was aware that we had been talking for a considerable amount of time. This was due to the moon, which made it difficult for us to accurately monitor the passage of time. Lia had also arrived to join in, and Elysia had already gone to sleep. Sia is more of what might be described as an introvert, and as a result, she constantly chooses to be alone herself.

commented Zia. SLAP! “Ow! What was that for?!” barked a visibly annoyed Zia with her hands softly rubbing her left cheek. “What’s the date?” asked Gray, still sharply breathing. “You won’t explain why you slapped me all of a sud---” “What’s the date?!” “Oc…october thirty-first,” responded Zia with her eyes lowered. “What time is it?” “N…nine, forty-two.” “Why did you come to my room?”

Jungkook gave me a cute bunny smile. "Remember, you're not alone in this fight. We're here for you, every step of the way." Jimin nodded his head smiling brightly at me. I wiped away my tears, my heart overflowing with gratitude for the kindness and encouragement of the BTS members. In that moment, I felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and resilience. "Thank you for all of your kind words. And I have bought something to give you all." I took the package from Alex's hand and handed it to them. They were all like kids as they immediately opened the wrap to see a beautiful portrait of them during their debut period.

In the second year after the war, I wrote my sister’s name on the military marriage permit my fiancé gave me. In my first life, I gave up my place at Westbridge University and married Daniel Whitmore after he returned from Europe. He spent our wedding night beside Clara’s sickbed. When the Army transferred him to Washington, he gave her the only Pullman berth and dependent travel pass. Even our son grew up believing Clara suited him better than I ever had. At fifty-three, I lay in a hospital while Daniel and our adult son asked me to sign divorce papers. They wanted me to free him for the woman he had loved too late. When I opened my eyes again, Daniel’s signed permit was in front of me, wit