Namjoon laughed when he saw him. His eyes twinkled. "Hey, I know you. You're from that boy band..." —he thought about it quickly— "that video 'Congratulations' was it? I remember you in there."

Jae had never felt more honored in his life. Recovering from his shock, they shook hands (and he vowed to never wash that hand again). He stanned intellectuals like him.

"Wow, you... you really are a genius," he said, breathlessly.

Namjoon bit his lip nervously and motioned to the fainted girl, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. "Guess I can't buy anything now," he said with an awkward laugh, "Guess she was both an Army and... um... your fan. Seeing us both enter consecutively was probably too much of a shock for her."

They heard a noise and looked down. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked up at them. Seeing the both of them, staring down at her like that (unwieldy amount of overexposure to talent and handsomeness and all) her eyes rolled to the back of her eyes and she fell back down with a thud against the ground, faint.

Namjoon looked back at Jae. "Um.. I'm so sorry. I think it'd be best if I go." He pulled out a paper and pen, quickly signed it and left it on the cashier desk. "I hope she turns out okay. It was nice meeting you. I'll be going now..."

"Wait!" said Jae. "I want to ask you something really fast."

Namjoon smiled kindly. "Fire away."

"You know anything about being a soundtrack... like invisibly playing the background songs of something or like, a person's life?"

Namjoon's smile disappeared. "Is your band still stuck being one?"

Jae gave out a breath of relief and laughed from joy. "Oh God, so it really is not just us! For a second, I thought you were going to ask me for the phone number of my mental institution!"

Namjoon nodded. "We were a soundtrack for one song: No More Dream. That was the first and last song we played as a soundtrack for. We turned it into a real song, which I think makes the situation worse." A flashback to his mustard yellow pineapple haircut made them both shudder.

Of course, you're BTS, thought Jae glumly.

"So like how, why, I mean, how did you guys escape?"

"Easy," Namjoon said, "You write a song together with your entire group. The song has to be special, and in accordance with the ideas or ambitions or thoughts of all the members of your group. It should be different from anything you have performed or did before. But most importantly, you have to compose it together."

Jae took a moment to rethink his life. Yes, they had just composed "Hi Hello" together, but they hadn't written the song together. All the songs they made in the past, even without the direct help of their manager, had been written individually, not together. 

"Oh, We Are Bulletproof Part Two," said Jae in realization.

Namjoon nodded. "That's right. That was our chain breaker. Right when we released that song, we became a real band, not a soundtrack." Looking up contemplatively, he nodded again and sniffed. "We copied No More Dream and I think plagiarizing your soundtrack songs makes the situation worse."

"Oops," said Jae.

Namjoon laughed. "No worries, man. I'm sure you guys can come up with something great to solve the situation."

"I sure hope so." Jae gazed out the window to where their red pick-up truck was parked at the side of the narrow street. It looked like they were having some sort of fight inside because the truck was wobbling.

"Jeez can't leave them alone for two seconds..." he muttered before looking back at Namjoon.

"Thanks so much for everything. With the force of your presence transferred over to me half of your IQ, I have a beautiful feeling this won't turn out too chaotic."

Namjoon nodded his head. He shook his hand again. "You've got the jams, man. See you around then."

Oh my Gawd, I have JAMS.

Jae watched the world-famous rapper pull a hoodie over his head and quietly slip out of the convenience store.

The cashier girl stood up, wobbly on her feet. 

"Careful!" Jae turned toward her but it was too late.

"Chicken Litt..." she whispered before collapsing back onto the ground unconscious.