Han didn’t ever really think about what would happen if he got separated from the rest of the guys. Sure, there were precautions from the managers and security, but he never thought a flash mob of fans would nail them as they left the terminal from their flight into Minneapolis from Korea.

Han didn’t really have much of a choice but to run when he was pulled away from his group, busting through the crowd of psychotic fans, running for the large glass doors of the airport. He ran outside, sliding to a stop as his head whipped around before he darted to the left, snatching a random kid’s black stocking cap, sliding it on his head as he ran, backpack jingling.

“Shitshitshitshit!” He muttered, seeing a bus stop up ahead. Said bus was starting to leave, but he flagged it down, quickly getting on. He plopped in a seat, reaching for his phone in his sweater pocket before freezing as he realized he had given it to Jeongin to take pictures. Han leaned his head on the window, his chest tight from the running and from his ever growing anxiety.

Han had no idea where he was going. He was lost without a guide, his group, or his phone, and now he was wandering around the city. The bus had stopped at a random spot, and Han had gotten off, hoping to find his way to the hotel. He didn’t even know left from right anymore, and now he sat in the corner of a Starbucks, staring into space and trying not to cry as he sipped on a pumpkin spice latte.

He was jolted out of his trance like stare as a girl plopped down at the table next to him, his face going blank as he stopped mid drink, watching with big eyes and an urge to move tables.