I was lying on my bed, my phone propped up on the pillow beside me, scrolling through TikTok as usual. My room was a shrine to BTS—posters plastered every corner, a few printed photos taped above my study desk, and even the bedsheet had tiny purple hearts I had carefully drawn myself. No albums, though. My family wasn't exactly wealthy; "average" was probably the nicest word I could use. But my walls made up for what we lacked in money—they were a canvas of my devotion.
My eyes were glued to my profile, checking likes, comments, and reposts on the singing videos I had been posting for months. Music was my escape, my secret world where I could dream bigger than the four walls of my room. My TikTok username was simple: @BoriSings, and I'd carefully curated every video, hoping maybe, someday, someone would notice my voice.
As I scrolled, a notification popped up, and my heart skipped a beat: a BTS video had gone viral again, trending everywhere. Their smiles, the way they moved on stage, the beat of their song—it all hit me like a lightning bolt straight to my chest. I couldn't contain it.
"PRIZZY! PRIZZY!" I shouted, practically leaping off my bed, my voice echoing across our small apartment. My younger sister appeared at the doorway, eyebrows raised.
"What is it now, Bori?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
"You… you HAVE to see this!" I grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her closer to my phone. "It's BTS! Look! That's J-Hope! And Jungkook!"
Prizzy's eyes widened as she leaned closer, squinting at the tiny screen. "Oh! I know them! I've seen them before… they're, like, super popular, right?"
"Yes! Super popular? Super popular doesn't even cover it!" I exclaimed, pacing around my room. "They've been my idols since I was ten! Six years, Prizzy… six YEARS. I've followed every comeback, memorized every dance, learned every lyric… and this year, they're coming back! The 2025 comeback!"
Prizzy smiled, a mix of admiration and amusement on her face. "You sound like you're about to explode."
"I might as well be!" I laughed, spinning in a circle. "Mom! MOM!" I yelled, running toward the living room where my mother was reading. "BTS… they're BACK! The comeback is happening this year! I just saw it online!"
My mom looked up, smiling gently. "That's wonderful, Bori. I can see you're really excited."
I flopped onto the sofa, my phone clutched in my hands like it was a lifeline. "I… I can't wait. This is going to be their biggest comeback yet. I just know it!"
Prizzy plopped next to me, crossing her arms. "So… are you gonna go?"
I froze. The question was like a splash of cold water. No. Of course not. I couldn't. Even if tickets were available, I didn't have that kind of money. A small pang of jealousy hit me thinking of the fans overseas who would fly out for the concert, the lights, the music, the screams of thousands of people—but mostly, my heart ached thinking I wouldn't be among them.
"Not… not this time," I admitted quietly, staring at my phone. "But still, I can dream, right?"
Prizzy shrugged, leaning her head against mine. "You always do. And somehow, I think your dreams are going to get bigger than you imagine."
I smiled faintly, but my excitement was already building up again. I had to see their comeback properly, even if it was just online. My TikTok feed exploded with snippets, fan edits, reaction videos, and countdowns. Each clip felt like a little electric shock of joy. I watched Jimin hit that high note in yet another video, my heart lifting uncontrollably, and laughed at how RM kept messing up a line during a live performance.
Hours passed without me noticing. My mom called me for dinner, and I walked into the kitchen, still humming BTS tunes. "Bori, you've been at that phone all day," she said, placing a bowl of soup in front of me.
"I know, I know… I just… I can't stop!" I admitted, shoveling in a spoonful. "They're my life, Mom. You don't understand."
She smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I think I do. I remember when you were ten, you would sing in your room for hours. Music is your world, Bori. And you love them—that much is clear. But remember, one day, dreams come true. I promise you… a day will come when you'll meet them."
Her words warmed me, but my stomach twisted at the thought. I wished, hoped, silently pleaded that the day would come sooner rather than later.
Later that evening, I was back in my room, phone in hand, scrolling through news articles, fan forums, and social media posts about BTS. Then it happened: the official tour announcement. My heart raced, hands shaking as I clicked on the link.
I read… North America, Europe, South America, Asia—but Africa? My eyes skimmed over the list, over and over again, refusing to believe it. But it was true. Africa wasn't included.
My chest tightened. My lips trembled. I had known deep down that it would be difficult for them to tour here, but seeing it in black and white still hit me like a punch. A mix of heartbreak and relief tangled in my chest—I was devastated, yes, but part of me knew even if they came, I wouldn't be able to afford it.
I sank back onto my bed, hugging my pillow tightly. Tears threatened, but I held them back. "Mom… Prizzy… they're not coming here," I whispered to no one in particular. "I… I can't go…"
Prizzy came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Bori, don't cry. You'll get to see them someday, I know it."
My mom's words from earlier echoed in my mind. A day would come. A day when I'd meet them. And somehow, amidst the heartbreak, I felt a flicker of hope, like a tiny flame refusing to die.
I hugged my pillow tighter and whispered under my breath, "One day… I'll see you, BTS. One day."
That night, my room felt a little darker, but also a little alive with dreams. I knew the journey wouldn't be easy. I knew I would have to work, hope, and wait—but somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark of excitement burned. A spark that promised that dreams, no matter how far away, were never truly impossible.
And with that thought, I scrolled back to my TikTok, watching one last video of J-Hope's smile before drifting to sleep, heart full of longing, and dreams of a world where maybe—just maybe—I'd meet my idols