In early May, rumors swirled on social media about a mysterious book. Its title wouldn’t be announced until June 13, but it was slated for worldwide publication on July 9, with an initial print run of 1 million copies. Media coverage focused on fan speculation that the author was Taylor Swift, a theory that drove a wave of preorders of the still-unnamed project. However, some of us immediately deduced that the book was actually about the South Korean pop group BTS. The biggest clue was that the announcement and release dates were each a major anniversary for the band—10 years since its debut and the naming of its enormous fan base, ARMY, respectively.

And indeed, within days the publisher, Flatiron Books, confirmed to The New York Times that the 544-page book was titled Beyond the Story: 10-Year Record of BTS. It was written by the South Korean journalist Myeongseok Kang (and translated into English by Anton Hur, Slin Jung, and Clare Richards), based on extensive interviews with the group’s seven members. But I still had questions, both as a fan and a cultural critic who has written my own book about BTS. How candid would the members be? Would the book speak mostly to diehards like me, or would it manage to capture the nature of stratospheric fame for general readers? After a decade of the group’s existence, how far would Beyond the Story go beyond the … well, you know.

[Read: I wasn’t a fan of BTS. And then I was.]

As it turns out, the book is less a traditional memoir or personal biography than a meticulous accounting of how BTS was born and became a worldwide juggernaut under the once-tiny record label Big Hit (now the massive entertainment company Hybe). For anyone who’s ever heard “Butter” on the radio and puzzled over the group’s ascent in America, Beyond the Story has answers: It’s a fascinating, complicated, and at-times anxiety-inducing chronicle of fan-driven global domination—as well as a highly accessible resource for newer devotees.

Many ARMYs first learn about BTS’s long, bumpy history in a piecemeal manner—through fan-made YouTube videos, official documentaries, livestreams, memes, and Twitter threads. Now this history is available in an unguarded, comprehensive package, narrated by Kang. Even for longtime enthusiasts, seeing BTS’s career laid out so deliberately is staggering. Kang covers every album, tour, and big awards show up until mid-2022, right before BTS announced that the members would temporarily be focusing on solo projects and preparing for their mandatory military service. The book doesn’t delve into their lives outside their job, which is unsurprising, given that the members are extremely protective of their personal relationships and known for working nonstop. But Kang still manages to layer an emotional history on top of the professional one. By contemplating their evolution as artists, BTS’s members also give readers a clear sense of how the crucible of fame forced them to grow as human beings.

Beyond the Story is divided into seven sections that trace the major eras of the group’s rise. Many readers will know where the story eventually goes—several No. 1 Billboard Hot 100 hits, Grammy nominations, countless historic firsts, multiple United Nations General Assembly appearances, a White House visit—but suspense still infuses the early chapters. Kang conveys the intensity and savvy of BTS’s leader, Kim Namjoon (stage name RM), who was recruited as a teenager by the mastermind producer Bang Si-hyuk to form a hip-hop group with the fellow underground rapper and aspiring composer Min Yoongi (Suga) and the highly respected street dancer Jung Hoseok (J-Hope). Eventually Bang, wanting BTS to be more of a traditional idol group, brought in four vocalists: the unflappable eldest, Kim Seokjin (Jin); the perfectionist Park Jimin (Jimin); the versatile Kim Taehyung (V); and the golden maknae (or multitalented youngest), Jeon Jungkook (Jungkook).

[Read: BTS’s ‘Life Goes On’ did the impossible]

When they first meet, they experience the typical personality clashes of any new group: The clean freaks balk at the dirty dishes in the sink and sweaty clothes on the floor. The hip-hop aficionados hold constant lessons to teach the novices about rap music. Everyone, regardless of dance experience, practices the tough choreography until they’re perfectly in sync—all while they’re on strict diets. (ARMY will be pleased to know that Kang devotes several pages to the infamous mandu incident.) “The more you look back on BTS’s preparation for their debut, the more surprising it is that none of them quit in the process,” Kang writes. Even after that 2013 entrance, the members described experiencing isolation and facing mockery from many of their peers at bigger, more financially successful companies. So difficult were BTS’s first two years that when a Big Hit staffer informs the label’s vice president, “Something’s happening. Uh … they’re getting more and more fans,” the moment lands like a shocking twist.

In the first half of the book, Kang provides context about the broader K-pop world, showing just how many rules BTS broke to differentiate itself from its peers and predecessors. The members filmed vlogs offering fans an unpolished look at their lives, even sometimes criticizing Bang or the company directly—a “complete rejection of genre norms in Korea’s idol industry,” Kang writes. Of the unusually dark realism of 2015’s single “I Need U,” he observes, “Within the Korean idol industry, experimenting like this was no different from intentionally trying to ruin yourself.”

As a fan, I was astonished that the BTS members seemed to go a long time without knowing why their own supporters liked them so much. Even when they were confused by their popularity, they expressed deep gratitude to the people who boosted them. Jimin tells Kang, “Even now, I remember that one row next to the broadcast cameras during our first performance,” referring to the handful of fans who showed up to cheer them on as rookies. For ARMYs, this evidently genuine humility is part of what makes them so appealing—they’ve never behaved as though success was an inevitable outcome of their talent or hard work. Of “Dynamite” topping the Billboard Hot 100, Suga talks about not wanting to bask in the achievement: “I realized it would be wiser to get back down to Earth as quickly as possible. There was no need to be floating in the air like that.”

[Read: The spectacular vindication of BTS]

Beyond the Story immerses the reader in how bewildering this whole growth process was from BTS’s perspective. Extreme highs (appearing on the American Music Awards and Billboard Music Awards, as well as major talk shows) are juxtaposed with profound lows (overwork, unrelenting depression, an increasing lack of privacy). The members open up about the stress of becoming huge in the U.S., a totally unfamiliar market, when six of the seven didn’t speak English. J-Hope recalls berating himself for not being able to master the language as quickly as intricate dance moves: “Each time, in the hotel room I thought to myself, ‘Oh, so I guess this is all I amount to.’” Once they began to adjust to the international nature of their fame, the pandemic arrived. They were forced to abandon their plans and experiment once again by releasing their first English-language single, “Dynamite,” whose success surprised RM: "The fandom must’ve craved it more than we’d thought," he said.

Not until this later part of BTS’s career, Kang writes, did the members transition from doing things for “the sake of outside approval or to prove themselves” to turning inward and “trying to reach a point of excellence where they could feel satisfied with their results.” Readers can appreciate how their interior growth has been almost inseparable from their artistic development. Jungkook, who joined Big Hit in middle school, talks about learning how to recognize his own emotions for the first time and “unleash” them in music. V reflects on growing older and going through an “adolescence of the mind,” before realizing that he’s the kind of musician who can write only when genuinely inspired. Jin talks about abandoning his obsessive worrying to the point of “living without any thought at all,” which allowed more “mental space” to sustain his work.

For fans, there’s something comforting about how much of this story we already know, and something satisfying about finally seeing it put down officially in words. To me, this familiarity is a reminder of how vulnerable BTS’s members have been from the beginning, even when the risk of self-revelation was high. Kang doesn’t touch on what lies ahead. The band’s future chapters have yet to be written, but this survey tells a complete story. It’s a document capturing how it feels to go from aspiring musician to worldwide superstar, and what it takes to do so.