You hear the door close which can only mean one thing, he is home. You rush down the stairs leaving your paperwork all over the desk, that could wait.

“Hey baby.” He chucked wrapping his arms around you, placing a kiss delicately upon your forehead.

“How was practice?” You look up at him through your lashes, even though they had a week off Jimin said they still had to practice at least once just to get the new choreography right.

He brushes a loose hair from your face. “It wasn’t as good as being with you.”

“Okay okay I missed you too.” You release him and make your way to the kitchen.

You hear him pull the chair out as you finish cooking the dinner you had started some hours earlier.

You turn to him only to see his eyes fixed on you making you blush. “Did you eat already?”

“No I thought we could eat dinner together today.” He smiles.

“I tried to make it as healthy as I could just in case.” You explain showing him the vegetables and kimchi you had prepared.

You feel his arms link around your waist as his head rests on your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that I would have ate anything you made.”

You giggle at the way he grows so clingy, you wouldn’t think he was nearly 28. “I know even on a break you like to try and keep your body perfect. How comes you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?”

“I didn’t want to be late.” He humms.

You knew Jimin which is why you knew he was lying about that.

“Jimin.” You feel his hands fall from your waist as you turn towards him.

“Jagiya.” He winks but his usual distraction methods won’t work this time.

You wave the chopsticks you was using to stir the food at him. “Don’t Jagiya me, why didn’t you eat.”

“You know I can’t gain too much weight on this break.” You watch as his gaze drops to the floor.

“Jimin you won’t gain weight by eating more than one meal daily, you do more cardio than the whole of South Korea put together.” You walk over to him grabbing his hand.

You know how much pressure not only him but all of the members face to be perfect but even so his words still make you feel sorry.

“I see some posts, a lot of posts. They were saying I had gotten fat, that I looked like a chubby kid again. I don’t want army to see me that way, I don’t want people to think like that.”

You place your hands on his face, making him look at you. “You are not fat, you are not Chubby and you are not a kid. Have you ever actually looked at the comments army gives you?”

You watch as he shakes his head and you let out a sigh. “Stay here.”

You head up the stairs, grabbing your phone from the desk you had abandoned earlier. You was going to show him a side of social media he had most likely not taken much notice of.

“What’s that?” He asks pointing to your phone screen.

You blank face him, making him laugh. “Twitter.”

“You use Twitter?” He asks raising an eyebrow as you lean against the counter next to him.

“I use Twitter to see videos of my boyfriend when he gets too busy working hard making millions of people happy.” You correct him.

“Upload a selfie.” You tell him.

He pulls out his phone opening Instagram “Why?”

“I mean on Twitter.” You laugh however that stops as you watch his eyes widen.

“I kind of deleted it, none of the other members post their much either.” He explains.

“I can’t believe you, instagram will do.”

You watch in silence next to him as he uploads a selfie he had sent you days before, you always love that you get to see pictures of him before they get posted, even though everyone knows most things about him you still have that small piece of him that’s only for you.

“Done.” He shows you, you read the caption that read “missing my Ami already.”

“Okay now watch.” You refresh the Twitter app on your phone.

You hand him the phone “Scroll through the timeline.”

He shakes his head before finally accepting and scrolling through. Thousands of people reacting to his newest upload had already started and watch as his face shows a vary of expressions, shocked, happy, confused.

“They really think all these things about me?” He asks looking up at you with tears in his eyes.

“Every single time you post a picture, a live, any content, that’s the way my Twitter looks. There’s always hundreds of these posts called threads that show people’s favourite moments of yours and it’s always about the words you say. The speech you gave “someone in seoul..” do you remember it?” You ask him and he nods.

“Hundreds of people post that and say they are having a bad day but that makes them happy. Your impact on these people go far beyond the way you look.” You watch as small tears stroll down his face, you brushing them away.

“Thank you for showing me this.” He smiles kissing you to which you reciprocate.

“You’re welcome, now let’s eat okay pretty boy?” You ask him making him laugh.

He nods at you, his eyes flicking down to your phone screen once more. You turn back to him as he calls your name.

“Why are they saying I probably have the prettiest cock?” He asks, making your face go red.

You rush to grab the phone from him but he holds it above your head and continues scrolling reading out the comments.

“Jimin looks so good Id let him use me.” “Jimin could just look at me and I’d orgasm.” “I’d throw myself in front of a bus to have jimin touch me once.” “Waking up to jimin must be the most amazing thing ever.” “Jimin knows he is going to drive us all insane.”

“Stop it.” You whine reaching for the phone.

You’re thankful when he stops teasing and hands it back to you. “So those are the kind of posts you read when you miss me?” He asks in your ear.

“N-no.” You stutter, his body pressing against yours.

“Do I have the prettiest cock?” He asks, his shyness gone.

“Well..” you whisper.

You squeal as he lifts you up and places you on the counter surprising you. “I said do I have the prettiest cock or should I get it out and make you tell me?”

“You know you do.” You mumble, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Good girl, next time don’t make me ask twice.” He wraps his hand around your neck as he kisses you roughly.

You can’t help but widen your legs allowing him to press himself against you.

“Jimin” you moan into his mouth.

He humms back too focused on kissing you.

“I want you.” You moan.

You watch as he pulls back, the hand around your neck loosening, falling to your lap instead. You push your hips up, your need for his touch becoming overwhelming.

He rubs his thumb over your pussy through your pants. You curse yourself for wearing sweats. “Let’s go to the room.” You whisper trying to pull him closer to you.

“Not yet baby.” He shakes his head his hand pulling away. “We both need to eat and it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“You can be my gift.” You pout at him.

He runs his thumb over your lips. “Good girls don’t huff. Go clean up I’ll finish dinner.”

You want to roll your eyes at him but by now you know butter so with a sigh you jump off the counter and head to the bathroom.

You didn’t have a lot of time before dinner was cooked which meant having a bubble bath was out of the option so you settled for a shower. You didn’t realise how badly you needed one until the warm water trickled down your skin relaxing your muscles.

As comforting as it was you didn’t want to make jimin wait, you quickly washed yourself and your hair before hopping out and wrapping a towel around you, as always jimin had forgotten to hang the robes back up so you was forced to run across the apartment into your bedroom.

Jimins voice was faint but you could hear him talking on the phone, you never knew if it was business or personal and you never wanted to invade his privacy so you ignored it and continued getting dressed.

After throwing on one of his shirts and a pair of your shorts you headed back downstairs, you had hoped he would have finished with his call by now but he hadn’t so you waited in the hall, hoping not to disturb him.

As much as you had learned to ignore his calls you couldn’t help but pick up a few words, he didn’t sound happy.

“-I’m not lying to her.” Jimins voice shouted in a hush.

Only now did you wish you could hear the other person.

He sighed.“I get that but I’m doing this for her.”

“She won’t think of it as lying she thinks we was rehearing Hyung.” So he was talking to one of the members and he lied about being at rehearsal.

“I don’t want her to hear me I’ll call you when she goes to sleep, I don’t want her to have any idea.” You hear him hang up the phone and you quickly hide being the door as you see his head turning.

You leave it a few seconds before entering the room, not wanting to make it obvious that you had heard his call.

“Hey you.” You mumble taking a seat at the table.

You watch as he carries over the pot of food you had made. He places it in front of you with a smile as he hands you a bowl. “How was your shower?”

“It was okay.” You mumble, filling your bowl.

You see him sit down opposite you out of the corner of your eyes “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, so what was you rehearsing today?” You asked him, forcing a smile.

You watched as his hands froze for a second before he shook his head, adding more kimchi to his plate. “We practiced the choreography for idol. It has been a whilst since we did it last.”

“You only practiced one song in five hours?” You knew you had to fix your tone before you gave away that you had heard his call.

“You know what Namjoon Hyung and Jin Hyung are like, besides Jungkook kept making us laugh, we practiced Dionysus and Yet to come too. What did you do today?” He smiles at you picking up his chopsticks.

You noticed he changed the conversation but you let it go, you wanted to ask him what was really on your mind but you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

“I worked on some things, filled in some paperwork and sent some emails. I had a call from your eomma she asked if we would visit her soon so I told her that we could go on your next weekend off if that’s okay?” You look up at him but you see he isn’t focused on what your saying as his eyes are fixed to his phone screen.

“Uh yeah that sounds great.” You watch as his phone rings.

“I’ll be back in a moment finish eating.” He said tucking his chair in as he walks towards the stairs.

You watch him run up them only hearing him say hello to whoever was calling, your appetite had long gone so you tidied up your food and cleaned your plate. The sun hadn’t set completely yet so you decided to make the most of it and go for a walk.

“Jimin?” You call out but you get no response.

You groan but begin making your way up the stairs but the words you hear make you stop. Your heart drops and you feel the food you just ate coming back up. “She won’t be my girlfriend anymore.”

You silently run back down the stairs, you grab your phone and your shoes and head outside, Closing the door behind you silently.

You send jimin a text so he doesn’t worry, not that it matters if he is planning to break up with you.

To: jiminie.

“I’m going for a walk, didn’t want to interrupt. Be home soon 💜”

You attached his usual heart emoji so he didn’t think anything would be wrong but you cried as you pushed send, your heart aching at the thought of being without jimin.

You didn’t actually know where to go. You didn’t want to walk around and cry, you had friends but they weren’t the kind of friends you talked to about these things, you never shared much of yours and jimins relationship to anyone out of fear they would sell the information so there was only one person you could talk to. One person you trusted.

You searched for the number not hesitating to call. It took a few rings for him to pick up but you suddenly didn’t feel alone anymore once you heard his voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, you could tell he was sleeping from his rough voice.

“Yoongs I need to talk but you can’t tell Jimin.” You explain.

“You want me to pick you up?” He asked making you smile.

“Yes, I’m near Jimins apartment.” You direct him.

You hear him open his door. “I’ll be there soon, go wait at the coffee shop.”

“Okay.” You don’t wait around as the phone call ends.

There was one coffee shop in the whole of seoul that you and the members could go to and be in privacy, an old lady owned it and it was run by her grandson, when you and jimin had first gone the woman had noticed him and had asked if he would like to eat inside. He declined for obvious reasons but she shushed him, she showed you a back room, a small room with a view of a lake nearby, there was windows but no one was able to see.

Slowly it became safe place for you all, whenever you would go she would take you to the back room and eventually her grandson did the same thing, neither of them ever asked for a picture or a autograph and no one ever knew you was there, one time a flood damaged the building so Jimin paid to have it fixed. Anonymously of course but she knew who it came from and she had always been grateful, giving you free sandwiches every time you went.

It didn’t take you long to reach the building but you was grateful when you did, the homely smell filling your nose.

“It’s lovely to see you!” She embraces you quickly guiding you through to the back room, you wasn’t an idol but she made you feel just as important.

You hugged her back. “Ajumma, how have you been?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine don’t worry about me, how are you? How is everyone it’s been weeks since I see any of you!” She flaps her hand at you, taking the seat opposite.

“We haven’t had much time Jimin has been busy at work and so have I. I feel bad for not coming by more.” You smile at her.

“Don’t you worry, we all get a little busy sometimes. What can I get you ?” She asks, patting your head lightly.

“Two coffees and maybe a tangerine or maybe five tangerines.. if you have any?” You ask her earning a laugh.

“Ah mister Min will be coming, I’ll bring them right out for you. I’ll let him know you’re here!”

“Thank you.” She smiles as she opens the door and you bow to her.

You always missed your eomma, you hadn’t seen her much since moving to Seoul it made you often feel like a bad daughter but you’d send money home whenever you could.

Your phone buzzed but you didn’t bother looking, you knew it would be Jimin. You watched out the window as you waited for Yoongi, jimins words were running though your mind no matter how hard you tried to think about something else.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder making you jump, you had grown so focused you didn’t hear the door open.

“It’s just me.” Yoongi calms you down.

You stand up and give him a hug. “You scared me”

“I could tell.” He mumbles pulling away. He wasn’t always a fan of physical attention but he always had a soft spot for you wether he admitted it or not.

You watch as he pulls out the seat next to you, his eyes watching the world go by out the window. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

You nod as he looks to you, “so what happened?”

You always found it easy to talk to yoongi, Jimin was close with all the members and in a way you was too but you had grown a true friendship with yoongi, not one based off the fact you was Jimins girlfriend but because you see him as another ordinary being so you had grown to become fond of his bluntness and you appreciated that.

“I think Jimin is going to break up with me.” You state, you watch as his eyes widen and his mouth open his face falling into that classic confused look you’d see in a bad comedy movie.

Before he could respond the door opened.

“Ajumma let me help you.” You mumbled rushing to take the coffees from her.

“Aish go and sit down im not that old.” She waves her hand at you as you place the coffees on the table in front of Yoongi.

“Ah Suga.” She smiles at Yoongi and he laughs.

“Ajumma you can call me Yoongi” he bows to her, accepting the bowl of tangerines she hands him.

“You know I like to have a laugh with you, how are you? How is your family?” She asks patting his shoulder.

“They and I are okay. I went home this weekend to visit them, they said the next time they are in Seoul they will come by to thank you for taking care of their son.”

You watch as her small smile grows into a grin. “I am happy to take care of you all. I have to get back to work now but you two just let me know if you need anything, say goodbye before you leave.”

“Thank you.” She smiles at you both as she leaves.

“You asked her for tangerines?” He asks picking one from the bowl.

You smile. “You have an unhealthy obsession over them.”

“They are good for you.” He groans peeling the skin off.

“Yeah and so is the gym but I can’t remember the last time you went.” You can’t help laughing but it doesn’t lasts long as Yoongi gives you a look that shuts you up.

He rolls his eyes before flashing you his gummy smile, he always knew how to make you feel better. “So why do you think Jimin is going to break up with you.”

“I know he is.” You huffed stirring the coffee.

“That still doesn’t tell me why you “know” he will.”

“Because Yoongi I heard him tell someone on the phone that I won’t be his girlfriend anymore, I heard him again on another call say that he wasn’t lying to me. So maybe I figured it out.” Your voice sounds angry but inside you’re just hurt.

“Look you can’t assume something so big from hearing one sentence, you should talk to him because as much as I can sit here and tell you what I think none of it may be the reality.” That was another reason you liked talking to yoongi, he had the best advice.

“I can’t do that, I can’t face him yet I’ll just cry and you know how he gets when I’m crying.” You explain taking a sip of coffee.

You almost want to laugh when you realise Yoongi had already ate three of the tangerines. Even in his most wise moments he was in love with the fruits.

“The longer you wait the worse it will be, you could always ask someone who Jimin talks to.” He looks down to your phone and your eyebrows frown.

“That’s why I called you.”

“I mean someone who he talks to about this kind of stuff.” You watch as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He hands it to you after dialling a number and you bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” You mumble unsure of who Yoongi called.

“Long time no see.” You scoffed at the voice. Of course it would be him.

“You know you can’t see me right so what you just said is completely wrong but yes it’s been a long time.”

You hear him laugh. “How can I help.”

“I feel a little awkward asking this but is Jimin going to break up with me?” You whisper the last few words, afraid of sounding ridiculous.

You want to throw the phone when you hear his laughter burst out uncontrollably. “Jimin would never do that. Did you hit your head?”

You laugh at his tone, he always made you smile. “I heard him talking on the phone about it, I’m not delusional I promise.”

“I think you should talk to Jiminah about it, you know the talks we have I don’t share. If you want my advice you don’t have to worry.” He explained.

You understood the position he was in, he had to put his friendship with Jimin first and that’s something you would never ask him to not do. Even if it meant you being clueless and hurt.

“Thank you hobi and for making me smile”

“You’re welcome. That’s why I’m everyone’s hope.” He hangs up a few seconds later and you hand Yoongi his phone back.

“So feel any better?” He asks placing his coffee cup back on the table.

“Not really but I shouldn’t have jumped to this conclusion so fast. I should go home and talk to him.” You mumble the words hoping that he doesn’t hear them but when he smiles and stands up you know he has.

“I’ll take you home.” He looks out the window on the door and he turns back to you.

“I can’t go out there.”

Maybe being with Jimin had you familiar with his tone but you knew what that meant. You walked over to the window and looked out of it.

“Why is it so busy out there?” You ask, turning back to him.

“I don’t know, it seems like something is happening.” He explains his head peking out of the window.

“Let me go check.” You smile at him, although he couldn’t risk being in such a busy place alone you could.

“Ajumma!” You shout through the crowd but you had no response, you couldn’t see Daesong around anywhere either.

You looked around a little more before finally finding Da-som crouched behind the counter.

“Ajumma what happened why is it so busy in here?” You ask, watching her hands try to fix the light in the display cabinet.

“A tourist groups bus broke down they found the cafe and wanted to wait here until they could get some help. Here you and mister Min should go out the back door, just leave the keys in the flowerpot outside.” She hands you a set of keys, pointing out the one for the door.

“Is there anything I can help with before we go?” You ask worried about the older lady.

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine you go on about your day if anything the extra custom will help me.” She smiles shooing you away with her hand.

“Okay have a good day and stay healthy, thank you for everything Ajumma.” You wave to her and walk back into the room where yoongi was waiting taking pictures by the window.

“Oh look at your selca king.” You laugh waving the keys at him.

“I promised army I would post more but it’s hard, I think they will like the site.” He smiles pushing his phone into his pocket.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say you love taking selcas and then you don’t post them. Let’s go out the back.” You sigh unlocking the second door.

“Did you find out why it was so busy?” He asks, pulling his face mask up and his hat down.

“A tourist bus broke down so they came here.” You explained.

Once you was outside you follow the instructions given to you and placed the keys inside the flower pot next to the door.

You walked a few steps behind Yoongi as always. If any fans or paparazzi found him that way you could make it seem like you was just another passer by. The boys had told you time and time again you didn’t always have to be like that but you couldn’t explain how bad you would feel if you became the reason that they ended up facing some bad media. The dispatch deal helped but it didn’t stop everything.

You made sure to look around you before entering Yoongis car, thankfully no one see you meaning neither of you would be front page on some trashy media site.

“So I’m taking you home?” He asks, adjusting his mirror.

You sigh, nodding. “I guess so.”

“You need to talk to him.” He reminds you, not that you needed it.

“Home it is.” You confirm.

You listen as he connects his phone to the car, it was a short drive but you both welcomed the music.

“Is this you?” You ask turning the sound up a little more.

“Yeah I guess it is.” He laughs.

“What’s it called?” You ask, Jimin hasn’t played this song for you before.

“People .” He laughs.

“I like it. How comes I’ve never heard it before. ”

“Thank you. Ask Jimin.” He smiles at you and you roll your eyes.

“I already have too much to ask him.” You hit his arm laughing.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his eyes fixed on the road.

You hum in agreement.

“Why did you call me instead of talking to Jimin straight away.”

You thought for a minuet, the question was unexpected. “I think I always find myself calling you because I know you’ll be honest. You’ve never lied to me, never broken a promise, if I ask you how something looks you’ll tell me if it’s good or bad but you’re still aware of emotions. You’re insightful.”

“Wow, you sure you don’t want to write a poem about me?” He laughs and you hit his arm again.

“Aish! Do you want me to crash? I will you know.” He waves his hand at you which you slap away.

“Go for it, it’s not my car.” You side eye him and he forever a scowl at you.

You had been laughing so much with Yoongi you hadn’t realised that he had entered to parking lot for Jimins apartment. It was only then that the butterflies fled your stomach, your mind and heart racing.

“Hey you can do this, I’m just one call away.” Yoongi nods at you.

“Thank you for being there for me today.” You smile at him before closing his car door behind you.

“If I can help I will.” He smiles through the window.

You wave to him as he drives off, you begin your slow walk back to the apartment.

After choosing to take the stairs and going up them slower than you ever thought humanly possible you arrived at the front door, you reluctantly pressed the key pad.

You was hoping the ground would open up and eat you but it didn’t so you slowly pushed the door open. You didn’t have any time to prepare yourself as you see Jimin laying on the couch.

“You’re home.” He smiles walking over to you, his arms wrapping around you, his familiar scent filling your nose.

The arms that once felt safe to you became more like a weight with every passing second.

“I heard your call.” You blurted out, the words unprepared.

“What?” Jimin steps back, his eyes roaming over your face.

“I heard what you said about me Jimin, that i won’t be your girlfriend anymore.” Your eyes fall to the floor, you didn’t want him to see the tears already forming.

“You.. I.. just I need to explain okay?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm.

For the first time every you shrug his arm off, you look up only to see his face filled with hurt. “Are you going to break up with me?”

“I would never do that!” He shakes his head.

“Then why did you say that I wouldn’t be your girlfriend anymore?” You ask, the tears slipping down your face and no matter how much you wanted to look away you couldn’t.

“Because I don’t want you to be my girlfriend.”

You swear your heart breaks at that moment. Time stops and for a few second you guarantee your breath does too. You don’t say anything, you don’t even look at him. You begin walking to the stairs, the idea of packing everything and leaving solidified in your mind but before you could take a step his voice fills your ears.

The breeze brushes Taehyung's hair out of his eyes— as if the universe wanted him to truly see your efforts to bring him here— and he looks happy. A gentle smile graces his lips, his honey-like skin slightly creasing near his eyes with joy and solitude. You can't help but feel a sense of luck.

He is truly beautiful.

“I have no words.” A sigh leaves his lips, his smile full and bright like the sun that shines overhead. “Why did you bring me here?”

A few nights ago, you had briefly remembered Taehyung's confession of having been to The Met over a year ago— which shocked you, ya know, since he is an artist. And The Met is free. Free art for an artist? Why hasn't he gone more often? He assured you that he "just didn't have the time," but you knew that wasn't the truth.

You're getting better and better at picking up on his lies, and it saddens you to know that he tells a lot of them.

“It’s important for you to go to The Met.” You had claimed that night. “As an artist.”

Despite kissing him a few nights ago, you didn't have the guts to tell him that the truth behind your bringing him here was to spend more time with him. You were about to leave for a whole month… and a part of you missed him already. You cursed at yourself, claiming that it wasn't far enough into your relationship to start missing him while away— and yet your heart keeps aching every time you think of leaving him in a week.

“Just because.” You shrug in reply to his question, rocking back on your heels and smirking at him while he marvels over the view.

The fact that Taehyung had cried in the hallway of your apartment building also weighed on you. You still haven’t asked him about it — nor are you going to — but that was the final push towards this trip. He must be facing something extremely difficult, judging by the look on his face that night. He looked utterly broken and horrified. The least you could do was try to help him smile again.

Thus, here you are, standing before The Met, which holds the world's most significant artworks, while you hold an artist's hand.

"This place seems more ethereal now…." He exhales, his shoulders dropping in relief, and you can't help yourself from rubbing his back gently. He turns his head to look at you. "Especially since I get to be here with you."

Cheesy.

Truth be told, this was all very foreign to you: this thing called dating. Which… you couldn't say you were necessarily doing since he hasn't asked you on a proper date yet. Still, your stomach flutters when he looks at you this way— and his dark eyes hold the promises that you've kept locked away for a long time.

If you said that the only reason you hadn't dated when you were younger was that no one was interested, you would be lying. Your parents had gotten a divorce when you were young, then went through second divorces with your stepparents— so to you, love seems impossible. Love seems fake. It seems impossible to grasp.

And yet here is Taehyung, with eyes full of love and a hand that holds yours like a cocoon, keeping those little promises safe. You can't believe that you're lucky enough to have him by your side… to hold him like this and to learn what real love should be like.

Of course, you would never say this out loud… but with every day that passes, you realize that you truly are falling in love with him. No matter how scary that may be, it's inevitable.

"Alright, enough with that." You huff, pushing him towards the doors.

"Am I not allowed to be romantic?"

You shake your head. "Not at this moment; we've got too much to look at and not enough time."

Taehyung laughs at your eagerness, reaching forward to open the door and holding it for you. You pause, staring at him with an annoyed look on your face.

He looks lost.

"What?" He questions.

"I told you you're not allowed to be romantic."

A grin emerges onto his lips, the wind jostling his hair— and you want to slap yourself because this truly feels like a dream. A dream you never want to wake up from.

"I'm holding the door for you, M'lady. Besides, you have to lead the way— and we do have limited time." With that, he grasps your hand, nods to the people behind you in apology, and pulls you through the entrance.

It takes a moment to rebalance yourself, and you nearly fall over again when you notice how close the two of you are, noses touching. Taehyungs arm is around your waist, gratefully holding you up, or else you would've been on the floor by now. An inescapable blush creeps onto your cheeks and you shake your head slowly.

"This is still romantic." You whisper softly.

"Sorry." His voice is soft; his smile is shining brightly. Chocolate eyes run over your features, slowly traveling from your nose, to your lips, to the strand of hair falling on the side of your face, and settling back to your eyes. You're having trouble breathing. "I guess I can't help it."

A moment more of him staring at you like that is enough to make you pull out of his embrace, embarrassment evident as you turn him towards the first room. He's laughing, and you can't contain the smile that stretches onto your lips, despite your bashfulness.

"All hail the artists of artists!" You exclaim.

You had initially come here to raise Taehyung's spirits— and yet you are absolutely entranced by the art before you, maybe even more excited than the artist himself. You're starting to wish you'd studied art in school. Theatre was cool, too, but you felt like drawing the way Taehyung does at this moment. Each piece tells its own story, the metaphors and symbols dancing within brushstrokes and sculpted clay that overlaps and curls in a beautiful pattern. It’s almost like a script full of secrets… where the art is right in front of you, but the meaning within is hidden and up to the viewer's understanding. It’s intriguing.

"This one reminds me of you." Taehyung expresses quietly, standing before a simple painting of a single microphone standing in the center of an empty auditorium. A dim light is cast upon the mic, making it glow and shine in the otherwise dark and gloomy atmosphere. You had to bite back a smile. He sure had you all figured out, didn't he?

You pass so many stories; a woman and a child painting within a painting, a sculpted deer, a weird sculpture that you honestly have no idea the meaning of… it seemed as if the artist was drunk while creating it. And yet, Taehyung stood staring at that single confusing sculpture in awe. The passion that radiates through him as he glances at the awkward objects that make up the sculpture makes you smile. You can feel his enthusiasm within his long pauses and lingering gaze… these small moments make your heart seize; seeing him in his element was a whole different experience.

There's one drawing in particular that makes Taehyung pause for an exceptional amount of time, and you can't bring yourself to continue to admire the lover's hugging sculpture in front of you, too curious about what has him so distracted.

Silence fills the room as the last couple leaves to embark on the next exhibit, but Taehyung doesn't move. He's quiet as he stares solemnly, his hands hidden deep within his jacket pockets. Without asking any questions, you finally look at what's entranced him for this long.

The Clock. by Anpan

It's a drawing of a grandfather clock, a dim reflection of a man's outline with his finger moving the clock's hands in reverse. On the face of the clock, there are different drawings of a girl going through life, from birth to teen years, middle age, old age, and death.

You admire the way it's drawn, all by pencil, not needing any form of color to express the deeper meaning. The meaning of a man going back in time to recall his lover's life. It takes you a moment to finally look away from the drawing, turning your attention towards the gentle eyes that are already settled on you.

"What?" You question, grasping onto Taehyung's arm when his gaze never strays from your own.

All he does is offer a small smile— a boxy shape that outshines the sparkling lights of The Mets Christmas decorations — a smile that you've grown so fond of.

"It's nothing." He responds.

----

December 9th

"You and Taehyung did WHAT?"

You wince awkwardly, glancing around to make sure that no customers in the cafe caught wind of your conversation, which (as usual) is hard to believe since Jimin's excitable self is loud when he takes in mind-blowing information. Sometimes, it's a blessing and a curse. More so a curse in this situation.

You barely move your mouth as you utter, "we kissed," before taking another sip of your seasonal beverage.

This year (courtesy of yourself), the cafe has a "milk & cookies" latte, with customers raving inside and out of the Academia walls over the flavoring. You even heard customers discussing it in a nearby grocery store, which had you smiling ear to ear at the notion of your own flavoring blend exciting their taste buds.

Even Jimin was drinking the aforementioned latte, but he has barely taken many sips since you enlightened him with the topic of you and Taehyung's brief make-out session on your couch.

Jimin's leaning across the small table in eager interest. His smile is probably reaching from the East Village to Washington Heights. "You KISSED? And when were you going to tell me? When I was old and gray??? How did this happen? What happened? Was it good??? Did Taehyung—"

"Oh my gosh, could you be any louder?" You seethe, smacking his hand that rests on the table. He's quick to respond, gasping and rubbing the pain away with an over-dramatic glare. "Yes, we kissed, and yes, it was good and you can shut up about it now."

You brush off the topic like snow off the roof of a car, unable to converse any further without your face igniting into flames. You enjoyed every second of that kiss... every brush of his lips against your own, every time his fingers ran through your hair, every single moan that he released that you swallowed eagerly and wished to hear again.

However, there was no way you dared to speak these feelings aloud.

As if on cue, Taehyung's chilled frame breaks through the doors of the cafe and straight into your direction, wafting cold winter air in with him and cutting off Jimin's next question about the kiss. He's bombarded with bags, shifting his weight as he rests them on the empty seat beside Jimin. They must be his college bags, filled to the brim with binders and folders, the starry night painting plastered atop one of them— most notably his art bag.

He's heaving, attempting to catch his breath as he removes layers and layers of clothing. And yet, he looks stunning as always, his hair parted slightly as snowflakes sit peacefully within the dark waves. It's easy to admire the way one falls onto his nose and melts at the touch. Beneath the mounds of coats and jackets, he's wearing a dark brown sweater that highlights the earthy tone of his irises.

"Woah, woah, woah—"Jimin exclaims, pushing the chair farther from him when a piece of snow falls onto the floor, nearly hitting Jimin's shoe. "Keep the cold outside, will you?"

Taehyung smiles, finally collecting himself as he drags his computer out from the Starry Night bag. "Sorry!" He exhales happily.

His attention turns immediately to you, and before you can even think— he leans over and places a kiss on your cheek, a snowflake falling onto your forehead. You usually would squeal at the cold, but you're too busy suffering from a hot face after an utterly unpredictable kiss was just planted straight onto your skin.

It all happened so fast, and it has you careening.

Jimin is grinning like a buffoon, waving his eyebrows in your direction, which causes your cheeks to grow even hotter. You nearly forget that a kiss on the cheek is a regular occurrence in relationships— which, again, you can't say you have a relationship when he hasn't really put a label onto this whole endeavor.

Taehyung seems unperturbed by his actions, continuing to seat himself beside you and open up his laptop. On the other hand, you are red in the face and have trouble breathing. Does this mean you're official? Does he want to pursue regular relationship actions with you? Did he kiss you on the cheek in a friendly way?

What the hell, Y/n. Kissing is not friendly.

Jimin can obviously tell that your brain is spiraling because he's quick to change the topic, questioning aloud in the brain-wreckers direction. "How's the project coming?"

"I'm almost finished. I have to put my signature on the drawing and then—" He holds out the "n" in "then," shuffling through his many google docs on the screen. When he seems to have found the doc he was looking for, he continues. "Then, I'll be able to send it to our teacher and Kim Namjoon… which is totally freaking me out."

"I'm sure it's amazing." You chime in, quickly shutting your mouth again when he turns to look at you with a smile. Can he tell that you were freaking out literally two seconds ago?

Taehyung speaks nonchalantly. "It's not perfect, but I tried my best."

Nope. He definitely can not tell you're freaking out… good.

Jimin sighs, seemingly coming down from the previous conversation since he's nursing his latte again. "Everything you make is perfect; let's be honest." Jimin leans towards you. "He won almost every single 'artist of the week' award in our school— but they had to mix it up the other times so that it seemed fair."

"That's not true." Taehyung huffs in ignorance.

"It is true. You we're constantly leaving class to go accept your award at the main building."

Taehyung doesn't respond, too busy clicking through files while Jimin mouths "it's true" to you. It's hard not to smile at the thought of Taehyung doing so well in his studies, seeing as he was this stressed out over it the minute he walked into the doors. Even enough to kiss you on the cheek in his haze.

"Do you want to see it?"

You almost don't register Taehyung's question, but the second you do, you find him looking at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. What did you know about art? Shouldn't he be showing Jimin? The truth is, you know it's because he favors you and wants you to be happy with his work… and you can't help the fluttering feeling that erupts in your chest at the notion.

You nod. "Yeah! Of course I do."

He slides his computer over, clicking on the link before bracing his arm around the back of your chair. It takes everything in you not to lean into the ghosting heat of his skin, but you refrain and attempt to focus on the painting that splays out in front of you.

The brushstrokes dance and skim across the surface like golden swirling ribbons. Architecture made from rays of the golden sun. It's almost as if you see the theatre in person again, the building radiating with dark brown and golden strokes that paint the exterior of the theatre perfectly. Golden swirls cinch at the top of the double doors which hold shadows of people beyond the grey painted glass. The theatre is sparkling in what seems to be a spotlight, blotches of white accentuating the sparkles across the golden surface. Next to the doors, there’s a sign which reads “Kim’s Theater: Now Open!”

"Oh my gosh, Taehyung." You whisper, catching his lips twitching upwards in the corner of your eye as you lean toward the screen to get a closer look. "This is… Wow. This is incredible."

"Yeah?" Taehyung says quietly. You almost feel as if he's trying not to touch your back, the ghosting heat becoming warmer before fading back to the way it was before. He was trying to put his arm around you. You barely notice this, however, too intrigued by his profound talents.

"Yes. It's almost like you're actually there! You made the exterior so much prettier, too… people will want to see this place far and wide, I promise you."

"Oh! That's not all." He exclaims, moving his arm from the back of your chair to reach towards his laptop. He's changing to another link, and yet another incredible painting comes into view.

This time, it's up on the rooftop. The same chairs and decorations from that night are painted in such a way that you can almost feel the soft, cushy couch beneath you. This is amazing because you're currently seated on probably the most uncomfortable chair you've ever had the displeasure of sitting on.

"You have such a gift." You breathe out quietly, shaking your head at the sheer beauty of his art. The art of someone so passionate, so in-depth with his creations— someone you know tries his absolute hardest to succeed. And here he is with successful projects and art pieces. "Truly."

His left hand, once hidden beneath a wooly glove, is now bare on the table, bracing himself beside the computer. Without thinking, you place your hand over his and give him a reassuring squeeze as you inspect the dotted stars across the top of the painting.

His skin burns at your touch, warm and inviting you to take his hand within yours. He's so gentle in every way; even the feel of his skin is buttery smooth and taunting you in a way that makes you utterly nervous. You attempt to move your hand away from his own, but he's quick to stop you and grab onto your ghosting grip. You can feel your heart beating wildly… he must feel your hand pulsing.

If he does, he doesn't point it out. In fact, he continues on as if nothing is happening.

"I have to be there for the opening night of the theatre…." He pauses, collecting himself with a quiet inhale. "Do you want to come with me? As my plus one?"

You nod, offering him a toothy smile. The smile that grows on your face is inevitable, and after a few seconds, your cheeks burn from the overextended joy. You don't know how Taehyung does this… even the tiniest of things give you an enormous amount of serotonin.

"Of course I do." You respond.

----

December 10th

You're trying to pay attention, truly you are.

When Taehyung offered to help you with house chores, you were eager to say yes and use him to get out of the tasks you didn't want to do: vacuuming, dusting, tidying up, etc. Cleaning is not your favorite thing in the world, but you figured with Taehyung here, it would be easier.

Boy, were you wrong.

Leave it to the two of you to get sidetracked by each other's presence. You had merely scrubbed your kitchen counter before the two of you took a break and erupted into conversation on the couch. Normally, you wouldn't mind having a genuine conversation with him… but the tingling deep within your stomach has you dazed and unable to process the words coming out of his distracting mouth.

His cologne is a bit more prominent today, and it's making your head spin in the most blissful way… it takes everything in you not to lean forward and hug him just so you can soak in it a little bit more. But that would be rude, seeing as Taehyung is trying to have a conversation with you about his teacher's feedback on his project.

"He was actually really nice about the criticism—” he chirps across from you happily, totally unaware of your struggles, “and luckily, he said there wasn't much to criticize… so I guess I won't have to change anything before opening night!"

All you can seem to do is stare at his moving lips, plump and soft— making you heated and dizzy. You continue nodding as if you understand what he's saying, but every other word that leaves his mouth is drowned out. Was this what sexual frustration felt like? If so, it was more than frustrating.

"Y/n?"

You jolt up. "Hm? What?"

He's looking at you with a confused expression, licking his lips in a way that has you cursing his habit. It was cute, you're not gonna lie... but how dare he do that when you're in the middle of a horny crisis?

"You okay?" He questions, moving his hand to the side of your arm to hold you gently, an action drenched in concern.

"Me? Yeah! I'm fine; why?" Maybe it was because you responded too quickly, or maybe it's because you're obviously blushing (judging by the heat of your face), but Taehyung's expression changes slightly before his lips lift into a knowing grin.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks teasingly, scooting towards you slowly before running his palm up and down your skin.

Geez louise...

A smile snakes its way across your lips; you shake your head. "Nothing…"

"I don't know…." He taunts, moving even closer so that the already overwhelming smell of his cologne is more flustering. You have half a mind to jump on him and finally get the attention you're craving for, but the smarter half keeps you seated and nervous within his grip. "You seem distracted."

"Not distracted at all…." But your eyes drop to his lips once more, studying the ever-growing curve of his grin, and he chuckles before finally removing the distance between the two of you and placing his smile onto your own.

You don't think you'll ever get used to this. Your heart is racing when he moves his lips against yours, scooting even closer as he wraps his arm around your waist. The want within your lower stomach grows stronger, butterflies beating their wings against your sides, and you nearly see stars when you feel his hand travel up to the side of your neck. With a gentle hum, he lays you down onto the couch, slowly and carefully, as if you're made of the finest glass.

Every time Taehyung kisses you, it feels like the two of you are the only people in the world… as if he was the only man that existed and was solely created to be with you. Every tantalizing move he makes is like a whispered secret, something only the two of you know. Truth be told, if soulmates are real— you're more than certain that you have found yours.

The only problem is that Taehyung never takes it past a certain point. Even now, as he's kissing your neck and running his hands over the sides of your stomach, you can tell that he's holding back from truly letting go. Veiny hands ghost over the bottom of your shirt, obviously itching to take it off of you, but he keeps still and settles for playing with the edges as he grinds down onto you. You've tried to say something like "it's okay" or "you can keep going," — but he refuses to do so, saying that he "wants to do it right." Which utterly confuses you.

Is this not right for him? It feels right for you.

You partly wonder if he's never done this before, and maybe he's simply too nervous… yet every move he makes seems so natural for him. As if he's done this before. As if a barrier is in place between what he truly wants— and honestly, you would bulldoze straight through it if you could.

You don't want to break his boundaries, though, so you're fine with just kissing him for now.

And so you do.

----

December 11th

It's getting even colder now in the city, almost too cold for your liking, and you're typically one to enjoy it. You enjoyed the feeling of walking in the snowfall, almost like a princess in a fairytale movie with white snowflakes falling around your moving figure. You enjoyed snowball fights with Jimin in central park and warming up inside a neighboring cafe with Taehyung so that you could complain about how much better tasting the Academia Cafes coffee was. But this cold was getting ridiculous.

People are whisking quickly past the cafe's foggy windows, frost clinging to its surface. The passersby are most likely on their journey toward home amongst the freezing temperatures, wearing irritable looks on their faces. At this point, you're wondering if you should just hail a cab back home instead of walking to the subway a mere block away.

At least you weren't alone.

Taehyung is seated on a neighboring barstool, his coffee-colored eyes stealing your attention as they scan the screen of his laptop. He's been working on final touch-ups like a dead man walking. You admire his perseverance to make it even more perfect than it already is… which to you is practically impossible, seeing as the painting looks like it was literally painted by God. Taehyung claimed that it "wasn't quite there yet" much to your surprise.

Still, you couldn't blame him for wanting to continue working on an already completed piece. You're one to continuously work on a musical theatre song, then film it two thousand times until you finally get the worthy enough take. This is probably the same situation.

You're grateful for his company… and he's been around you nearly every day since the night you kissed. Which was nothing to complain about. In fact, it made you feel safe and wanted, which is something you haven't felt in a very, very long time. He wants to pour all of his time into being with you, and sometimes, he looks at you in such a way… a way that makes your heart jump into your throat and your head fog up, and your vision blur. A look of longing. A glimpse of… misery? He looks at you like you'll disappear at any moment. It's unlike anything you've ever seen.

The soft humming of the speaker, which is seated proudly on the bar, distracts you from focusing too much on the artist in the room. The broom in your hand is also a good reminder of what you should be doing, rather than harping on him. Soon you're swaying, rhythmically sweeping to the tune of "You Matter To Me" from Waitress the musical.

You nearly forget that you're not alone when you spin around slowly, dipping lower to free a bit of pastry from beneath a chair leg. Seriously, why do people not clean up after themselves when they drop food? It's not that hard to bend over and pick it up. The trash can is literally a meter away, and these people still have the audacity to leave their food on the ground. Through your muddled thinking, you feel hands wrap around your waist before you have the chance to whisk the arrogant food into the pan. The hands are warm yet still cause you to lurch slightly as a gasp leaves your lips.

"Woah— easy." Taehyung laughs (you love his laugh), lowering his head to gently rest his chin atop your shoulder.

"You scared me." You act as if you're unamused, but you're obviously leaning back into his embrace to soak him in just a little bit further. He apologizes quietly, swaying in time with the music. Your eyes flutter closed. No matter how cliche it sounds, every moment with him is like a musical theatre scene. So perfect, so scripted-- and yet it's not scripted, so Taehyung must be a genius at making you swoon.

"Come out of hiding; I'm right here beside you…." The speaker sings.

Taehyung is quick to remove the broom from behind you and set it against a nearby table. The close proximity of his body against yours is magical, and it takes no effort from him to lift your linked hands and spin you away from him. His movements are smooth, and you have half a mind to ask him if he dances at all— but when he pulls you back in, you're unable to utter any words when your nose brushes his.

With a massive smile on his face— and you mean massive because this boy is totally patting himself on the back for aforementioned smoothness— he reaches forward to hold your waist. Within moments, he's swaying with you softly and holding you in a way that makes your stomach churn slightly…

He's going to be the death of you.

----

December 12th

You don’t see Taehyung today.

No matter how badly he wanted to hang out with you (which he made very clear when he called you in a tizzy), duty called at the theatre, and Taehyung was forced to be there early this morning.

Despite not being with you in the flesh, you’re almost embarrassed to admit that he is literally all you’ve been able to think about today. You wonder what he’s up to… what they have him working on. You wonder what he’s wearing— maybe the coat he bought with you at that old consignment store, the black one that made him look like a businessman and had you weak in the knees.

Still, looking past the fact that he’s ingrained into your thoughts, you continue with your day: doing laundry, cooking lunch to bring to Jimin, who’s working busily at the cafe, and shopping around for some decor for your apartment.

Even Jimin decided to give you a hard time when you checked the cafe for the familiar dark-headed artist.

“This is what they call the honeymoon phase.” Jimin coos, handing you a warm caramel latte with a smirk. When will the day come when Jimin doesn’t tease you over something you have absolutely no control over? That is a question for the ages. And he has the time of his life doing so… judging by the ever-growing smirk on his face when the blush sinks deep into your cheeks.

Jimin might’ve been right.

Even folding your laundry reminded you of him. Reminded you of the night he took you to the laundromat to pick up your clothes and helped you fold them. Lucky you, it was just jeans and t-shirts… if Taehyung had seen anything else, you think you would’ve crawled into one of those laundry machines and tried to spin yourself out of your misery.

It was almost embarrassing how much you missed him.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way when the two of you literally just connected in a romantic way, should you? You shouldn’t feel like you’ve known him all your life when you had barely even begun your relationship…

It was weird and sudden-- yet so familiar.

----

December 13th

The last thing you were expecting this morning was a phone call from Taehyung, bright and early, lighting upon your face as soon as the clock hits nine in the morning. If it were anybody else, you probably would've thrown your phone across the room and dove back into the dreamy state you had been awoken from-- but this was Taehyung, so the only thing you were throwing was yourself towards the alerting device.

"Hello?" You voice groggily, clearing your throat as you wince at the rude reminder that you literally just woke up.

"Wow, good morning." Taehyung chuckles over the line, and you're pretty close to punching him through the phone for making fun of you, but the sweet sound of his laugh distracts you. "Did you just wake up?"

"... Maybe."

"Ahhh, and here I thought you were a morning person! Guess I was wrong." You can hear the smirk in his voice. A faint sound of cars honking is heard in the background, diverting you from your feigned annoyance... Was he out of the house this early? Bless his soul.

"Where are you?" You question, finally propping yourself up against your headboard.

"Out and about running some errands." You can hear his footsteps across the snow, quiet crunching in the background playing like a soothing lullaby, nearly lulling you back to sleep. "We have plans today."

And suddenly, you're wide awake.

"We?"

"You and me." He explains.

A smile grows onto your face as you play with your duvet bedding, containing the relieved sigh at the thought of seeing him again. Even now, your brain revolves around him in the most pathetic way… but you don't mind that much.

At your hesitation, Taehyung breaks the silence once more.

"Are you busy?" He questions anxiously, his frozen footsteps faltering over the line like a sad child who was denied hot chocolate. You can hear the pout in his voice, and it nearly makes you laugh… the desperation seems mutual. "That's totally okay if you are... I just thought we could go on an official date today."

You hide your smile behind your hand and collect yourself enough to respond, feigning nonchalance. "The other days haven't been dates?"

"… They weren't official. This is official." He states, the creaking of a door in the background piquing your interest in what he has planned… Did all his running around and preparation have to do with your date today? What is he planning? "We can do it another day if—"

You jolt up. "No! No— mm, no. I was just joking around."

"Good," he responds, the smile and childlike excitement fully evident in his voice. Honestly, you can't remember the last time someone was this excited to see you… and it wraps around your heart like a heated blanket. "Get ready! I'll pick you up at two!"

You're really not a fan of heights. Actually, scratch that; you've never been a fan of heights. The last time you can remember being high above the ground was back in middle school when you climbed a reasonably small mountain during a field trip, and you nearly blacked out when they took you to the final overlook. You couldn't imagine people willingly coming this far above the ground to marvel at the views, seeing as the views nearly made you sick to your stomach.

Maybe it's because Taehyungs with you that you agree to visit the Summit One Vanderbilt. It towers over the city at an appalling height of 1,401 feet tall— and they expect you to enjoy the views. Truth be told, you were definitely not enjoying the view as you stood and stared up at the building from the sidewalk, the lump in your throat threatening to eat you alive. You're basically the filet mignon on the menu.

Again, maybe it's because Taehyung is with you that you agree to go. Maybe it's because you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him by being a total chicken and backing out of his request. Which, much to your disappointment (mostly in yourself), is obviously not working when you cling to his jacket through your thick gloves— scooting the tiniest bit closer to him in the already cramped elevator. Right at this moment, you're praying not only to live but also for your will to live. If you turn even the tiniest bit, you'd be able to see the elevator view going up and up and up— continuously moving like a flowing river even though you wish with every ounce of your being to reach the top already.

"You're doing great." Taehyung whispers, an evident smile in his voice as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his neckline. He's holding your head to hide you from glancing at the height— and you know that your cover is blown.

"Not really fond of heights.” You voice quietly, muffled words spoken into the jacket gracing his shoulders, embarrassed to even admit it when you've already come this far. No way you're backing out now.

Still, Taehyung holds you tighter, and you can feel him suppressing a laugh before he whispers gently, the faintest wind from his voice blowing a speck of your fear away.

"I know."

You have to give Taehyung credit for his efforts. He's slowly guiding you out of the elevator when the damned thing finally decides to stop rising into the clouds. Your eyes are still frozen shut in fear, but the warm palms around your shoulders are keeping you grounded… but not actually grounded because you're thousands of feet in the sky.

Stop reminding yourself that you're thousands of feet in the sky!

The farther he takes you, the more curious you get— but despite this fact, your eyes still refuse to open. The view must be horrifying.

"Okay, gotta be careful here cause there's a huge hole in the floor." Taehyung voices quietly, his hands gripping onto you. "Just take a laaarge step; it'll be fine."

And that's when your eyes suddenly fly open; your need to be in control of the current situation is sullying your stubbornness— cause no way in hell are you letting Taehyung lead you over a cliff. Not that you think he would lead you off purposefully, but accidents happen! You shriek aloud, faltering backward into his chest and away from the aforementioned hole… which seems to not exist. Your face is staring back at you through the glass floors, which are completely flawless in design. And that's when you see Taehyung's body shaking behind you in silent laughter.

It takes a moment for your heart to beat again, but as soon as you've regained some of your sanity, you elbow him in the gut. "That is not funny!" You whine, shoving his hands off of your shoulders when he finally lets out a peal of laughter.

And that's when you look up.

Holy– okay, this is high up.

The room is an echo of mirrors and glass windows, making you slightly dizzy as you glance around the room at different versions of yourself and a view unlike anything you've ever seen. At the very top of the city, towering over the hundreds of buildings and thousands of people that are probably whisking away along the streets, you feel like a tiny ant. A tiny, little ant that keeps getting stepped on… but nonetheless finds the solace of a crevice. A crevice to hide in. A hand to hold.

And he's looking at you fondly as you marvel at the view… partly scared and partly in awe. He's looking at you and not the view in front of him… as if this is something he gets to see every day, which you know is not the truth. When you meet his coffee-brown eyes, they hold something within them… something that whispers the softest of I love yous. Something that makes your insides turn out. Something that feels so familiar– and it only takes you a moment to break eye contact out of fear of awkwardness.

Nonetheless, you can still feel his eyes on you.

"From up here, the difficulties we face seem so minuscule, don't they?" He questions, finally turning his attention towards a flock of birds flying across the sky.

You hum in agreement.

The Rockefeller Center is lit up in bright Christmas lights, the snow that softly descends above you dancing within its fluorescence like ballerinas on the stage. At any other time, you would be in awe by the colors around you and watching the light show unfold… but…

"Good! Now, glide, Taehyung. On the ice. Let's go."

To you, it seemed as if Taehyung was good at everything. He was handsome, talented, kind, funny, and every piece of him reminded you of how lucky you are to have him by your side. But right now…He was embarrassing himself by clinging to the side of the ice rink walls.

Maybe he wasn't good at everything.

"I'm gonna fall." He whines like a toddler, holding out his shaking gloved hand when you ask him to reach for you. You can't help the chuckle that bubbles within your throat, and Taehyung can obviously tell that you're amused with his struggles. "Stop laughing!"

His plea just makes you laugh more, doubling over as you attempt to catch your breath with quiet "sorrys" and "I'll stop, I'll stops," nonetheless continuing to sputter out giggles.

"Come on, Tae. Hold my hand." You say softly, the aching smile on your cheeks never faltering as you see his brows knit in concentration. "I won't let you fall, so grab onto me."

You aren't a pro ice skater either, but you've gone ice skating quite a few times and absolutely adored every single moment of it— especially growing up. Your family had a river that froze over every winter, and there was no wall to cling to there, so naturally, you had to learn pretty quickly.

Taehyung huffs, digging his leg closer to you as he shakily releases one hand from the wall, reaching for your own. You can't help but smile at the notion that he brought you here because you said that you liked ice skating. Even though the poor guy could barely get two feet in the rink.

"You're so close! Come on, a little more." You wheeze, unable to help yourself since he looks like a newly birthed giraffe attempting to eat grass, all long limbs stretched out in heated frustration.

"This is hard." He grunts.

"I believe in you."

"I don't believe in myself, y/n."

"You're so close, Tae. Look how close you are! You're doing great, just un-cling yourself from the wall, please and thank you."

"This is the worst moment of my life."

He looks ridiculous…. ridiculously adorable.

When he finally places his gloved hand within yours, you forcefully pull him away from the wall, sending his beautiful face into deep-rooted shock and fear as he holds onto you like a lifeline, attempting to find his footing on the ice as skaters pass the two of you in a flurry. Gotta hand it to him; at least he's off the wall now. Baby steps.

"See," you smile, "you did it." He's glaring at you with snowflake flurries in the dark sea of his hair. His attempt to look angry is squashed by the pure innocence of his appearance. You gently brush them away with your free glove and give him a smile. "You're gonna be a pro-skater in no time."

"You're mean." He whines, but nonetheless, he can't hide the smile on his own face.

Holding Taehyung's hand while you drag him across the ice is most likely the highlight of your day– seeing as you expected to be the one getting dragged, but now you feel somewhat powerful. With legs as frigid as the ice beneath, he slowly begins to skate in the least proportional way possible. You smile at his efforts. He's doing great.

Well, he was doing great, up until the point where said frigid legs decided to give out and topple you to the iced floor. The two of you convulse with laughter, breathing out into the night air of the ice rink as you stare up at the sky with toothy grins. For a moment, the nearby skaters who have to swerve to not run you over don’t matter. For a moment you can appreciate his company as you feel his gloved hand reach its way towards yours.

It’s only until he shuffles beside you that he breaks your resolve.

“C’mon! We’ll be late!” He laughs, attempting to stand but ultimately falling back down. When you question what you’re going to be late for, Taehyung merely smiles.

Within an hour, you're sitting from the top of the ice to the front row before a stage, lights dimming gently as Taehyung taps his feet beside you to the pre-show music. You're holding a playbill in your hand, the paper adorned with pink letters that glisten in the faint light of the theatre. "Waitress," they read. Not only did Taehyung dance with you to one of the songs the other night, but he also bought tickets to see said song live.

You’ve been wanting to see Waitress for a long time. You listened to the entire score in a day and were bursting with excitement upon knowing it was returning to Broadway– but money was tight, thus being the reason why you’ve never bought tickets. Now, as you hold tight to the ticket in your hand, you can feel your chest erupting in excitement. Taehyung's proud smile is still gracing his features when you stop to take a picture of the two of you with the playbill.

Oh my gosh, you bet these were expensive.

You shove down your worry, trying to remember how grateful you are to be spending so much time with him (especially time spent in a theatre) before you leave. Until then, you'll be happy to sit beside him as the music chimes, and the show begins.

Sugar.

Sugar, butter.

Sugar, butter, flour.

Within moments you're the little kid within you again, eyes gleaming as they stare at the art taking place on the stage— and you can feel Taehyung's hand slide into yours, ever so gently. You turn to face him, a smile present on your lips, and he's smiling back at you with admiration gracing his eyes. Every time he looks at you, it's as if you're some art piece that he loves— that sits in an exhibition specifically for him.

For a moment, you think this is the happiest you've ever been.

And then, you see the unwelcoming sight of your apartment door. The wreath that hangs upon the outside does nothing to sully your newfound bad mood. Why do good days have to come to an end? Why can't we live inside of those good days, bundle up and cuddle within its warmth without the cold bite of tomorrow sneaking in?

Why, oh why do you have to leave in three days?

You know the reason why… and you're excited, absolutely. But the thought of leaving the person whose hand is holding your own is starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth. Why does it feel as if you're never going to see him again when you know you'll see him tomorrow?

Leave it to Taehyung to steal any bad tastes from your mouth and replace it with the sweetness of his kiss. It's gentle and soft, all-encompassing as he runs his gloved hand up and down your back. So comforting. This comfort makes you bold as you deepen the kiss, and pretty soon, Taehyung is slowly backing you up against the door. He takes your lower lip between his teeth.

You know this will only last for a moment; you know that he'll end up saying no; still, you can't help yourself.

"Do you want to come inside?" You ask hesitantly between kisses, key at the ready to open that door and beckon his figure through it. Much to your disappointment, Taehyung pauses. Why is he so against taking another step in your relationship? "I can make us some hot cocoa… maybe a movie or something?"

It's another moment of silence before his shoulders drop along with your heart. "I don't think that would be the best idea… I mean, I have to prepare for the opening of the theatre tomorrow night, and I think a good night's sleep is needed." Unable to hide his desperation, Taehyung's eyes linger on your door for a touch longer before he removes himself from your embrace. "Big day tomorrow."

"Huge day, yeah." You agree.

And with a small apology and a goodbye kiss, Taehyung's warmth disappears through the doors.

----

December 14th

Honk, honk!

The abruptness of the rather boisterous sound causes your cream heels to pause before crossing the street, cars whizzing past in a flurry of bright yellow taxis and other colors of the rainbow. If it weren't for the sound of the horn, you would've been hit by the cab whose driver seems to be flipping you off as he continues down the street. He's the one who nearly hit you, yet here he was giving you the middle finger?

Classy.

You straighten up your curled hair, taking a deep breath before releasing your cloud into the crisp of the air. The cream-colored dress that hugs at your waist and falls just below your knees is doing nothing to keep you warm, golden sparkles shimmering in the city lights. A trail of golden leaves dance across its surface, gathering at the top so your neckline and shoulders are smothered with leaves. Luckily, the white double-breasted jacket keeps the chill from nipping too harshly.

With the time it takes to cross the road and the harsh winter winds lapping at your exposed legs, you're starting to regret telling Taehyung that he didn't have to pick you up. Who told the weather that it could be this cold? Still, you worm your way through the cars and finally reach the entrance of Kim's Theatre.

It's as beautiful as you remember it being, only now the sparkling golden party decorations add to its glamour. Gold was an exceptional theme choice.

You feel as if you don't belong here… everyone around you is walking inside in ballgowns and things you'd seen only on the red carpet— outfits you could only dream of affording. They all look beautiful– and now the golden leaf that holds the left side of your hair back and away from your face feels like a childish style choice. Why didn't you choose something more mature? Did you look like a child? Should you go home?

"Ma'am?" The voice that calls your name distracts you for a mere moment. It's the theatre's doorman. "You better come inside. It's only going to get colder!"

It is freezing. And you're not here to worry about your style choice; you're here to support Taehyung. With this change in mindset, you take a deep breath and nod to the awaiting doorman.

Walking through the doors is almost like walking through a fairytale novel; every twinkling light and golden array of decoration is increasing your excitement. The second entrance is decked out with golden and white balloons, strings of silver falling over the door like a hidden entrance to the fairytale world. There are more people inside than outside (which you can’t say you’re surprised about due to the weather), and they stand conversing when you enter. One of them throws you a glance, but immediately delves back into the neighboring conversation. Despite the feeling of not belonging, you're grateful you're here; you're grateful that you're here to support Taehyung; you're grateful that he's looking at you as if you're the star of this night the second you walk into the lobby.

His lips are parted at the sight of you. Maybe pinching yourself would be a good idea because geez Louise, is he handsome. Before tonight, you never really understood the hype of a man in a suit. So what if someone got all dressed up? All suits look the same anyway. But now… a suit on Taehyung is making you weak in the knees.

"Hey." He says, almost nervously. You can't help but smile.

"Hey." You respond.

His eyes run along the leaves scattered across your neckline and shoulders. He smiles softly. "You look incredible."

And just like that, every doubt that you had while walking into the building disappears through the door and out into the chilly air. It's unwelcome at this party. Especially since Taehyung is looking at you as if you're the best-dressed woman here— which is totally untrue.

Nonetheless, a quiet "thank you" leaves your lips before he's grasping your hand with his own and leading you to a neighboring group of people.

More men in suits. Nothing compared to Taehyung, but you know who these men are: directors and actors from the theatre world. The nerves within your stomach are starting to grow, and when a waiter passes by with glasses of champagne, you're quick to grab one. You're gonna need some encouragement to get you through this conversation. Plus, champagne is classy! So maybe you'd look more presentable while drinking it.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kim?" Taehyung voices, drawing the attention of the men before you.

A tall, dimpled man in glasses is quick to raise his head, his smile growing at the sight of Taehyung. They must know each other pretty well now, seeing as Taehyung has been here multiple times a week to draw the theatre.

"Kim Namjoon, this is my girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n."

The room spins for a moment when you hear the word "girlfriend" spill naturally from Taehyung's lips, and you have to mind yourself before your champagne glass can tip over. He's looking at you fondly, unabashed, pulling you slightly in front of him and presenting you to his colleague.

Yet, all you can think is: he just called you his girlfriend. AHH!!

"Y/n, I've heard so much about you." Kim Namjoon smiles warmly, holding his hand out to shake yours. Before he can utter another word, Jimin is quick to intrude himself into the conversation, grabbing Taehyung's attention.

"I am so sorry to interrupt, but there's a couple here who wants to talk about your drawing, Taehyung." He voices, quickly offering you a smile— you can tell that he's holding back from jumping up and down with you at the fact that you're here and with Kim Namjoon. Much to scream about later over hours worth of a phone call. "You'd better go and talk to them."

Taehyung nods before turning to you.

"Will you be alright?"

To be honest, you don't know how to answer that question. You want him to do what he needs to do without worrying about your well-being, but at the same time, you have half a mind that you'll crumble within seconds of being alone with a group of theatre prodigies.

Get it together, Y/n. This is Taehyungs night.

"Of course, go go!" You whisper excitedly, pushing him towards Jimin, who drags him through the crowd and out of your sight. His gaze never leaves yours until he's turning the corner, offering you a small wave and apologetic eyes.

Namjoon breaks the silence. "He's a wonderful artist."

"He's immensely talented." You agree, turning back to the man whose dimpled smile shines brightly on his face. "And a wonderful person, too."

He laughs. "He's also quite the boaster. He never stops talking about how immensely talented you are. I must say, after listening to you sing, I highly agree with him."

You must be pale in the face. "You've heard me sing?"

"Taehyung likes to play videos of you singing while he draws— it's the only thing he listens to, quite frankly. At least when he's here. He's convinced practically everyone in the theatre to listen to you."

Videos of you singing? Multiple videos? When did Taehyung take videos of you singing? You pause for a moment, taking a glance at your champagne to remind yourself that Kim Namjoon is talking to you, and you should probably answer before it becomes awkward.

He speaks again before you have the chance.

"You have a wonderful voice… one that should be recognized." He states as a matter of fact, nodding before he takes a sip of champagne.

That's the moment you remember who got you the audition in London in the first place… the man standing directly in front of you.

"I— oh my gosh, I can't thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to audition in London." You shake your head, excitement bubbling in your chest. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I sincerely thank you."

Namjoon raises his hand, brushing off your thanks. "No need to thank me. Your talent got you that audition."

"I wouldn't have been able to audition if it weren't for you." You insist.

"I wouldn't have heard you sing if it weren't for Taehyung— so really, you should be thanking him and his love for you. He's very vocal about your talent… and very vocal about wanting you to succeed." Namjoon smiles, taking another sip. Little does he know, your head is spinning at his words.

You should be thanking him and his love for you.

"Y/n!"

With a quick turn of your gaze, the same Taehyung who's occupying your thoughts is making his way across the lobby and grabbing onto your hand. His words are almost a blur to you— you can barely think straight.

"Sorry to interrupt," he apologizes, offering Namjoon a smile. "Do you mind if I steal her from you?"

Taehyung stands beside you in front of his drawing while holding your hand. Onlookers pass by with pleased expressions, studying his art before carrying on with their journey around the theatre. The room smells of champagne and vanilla, with a mix of the woodsy cologne that is sunk into the lapels of Taehyung's suit. Your head is still spinning from the previous conversation with the theater owner, and his scent does nothing to calm you down…

Did Taehyung tell Namjoon that he loves you?

Taehyung must not notice your inner overthinking, too busy conversing with guests and talking about his work. It's only until you hear your name brought up in a conversation that you come back to reality.

"Y/n is an incredible singer. No doubt she'll be on this stage soon!" Taehyung expresses confidently, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You'll have to make her sing for us someday soon!" A woman in her thirties responds, casting you a glance with a gentle smile. "We'd love to hear your voice!"

You smile in return with a quick "thank you," a hint of bashfulness sneaking its way into your bones. It was one thing for Taehyung to talk about you— but truth be told, the last thing you wanted to do was talk about yourself. Taehyung made it look easy, seeing as he brought your voice up in conversations with nearly every guest who stopped to admire his work.

It wasn't until everyone was asked to be seated that he finally halts his boasting and walks you towards your seats. Front row seats. Center stage. The red curtain hides the magic beyond, staring at you in the face and making your excitement rise.

Within minutes, the theatre is open and a symphony is playing a medley of all different art pieces in theatre. Wicked, Phantom of the Opera, Guys and Dolls, My Fair Lady, and even mixing in modern works such as Hadestown, Dear Evan Hansen, and more. Every time you'd sit up straighter at the sound of a familiar tune, Taehyung would steal a glance at you. He's running his thumb along the skin of your hand.

The night is magical, yes, but it's nothing compared to the magic that is seated beside you. Which sounds cliche- extremely cliche,you realize - but it couldn't be more true.

Your feet hurt. Damn those cream heels. Taehyung had offered to take a cab with you back home, just to make sure you got in okay— but you insisted that you walk. You didn't want him spending money on you and truth be told, the theatre wasn't too far, so you weren't about to spend money on a cab either.

This night was everything you dreamed it would be. The music is still thrumming in your bones and it's almost as if you can still hear the violins singing in your ears. You're so proud of Taehyung and his accomplishments, he deserved this. He earned the recognition. He deserves to be happy… and judging by the toothy grin on his face, you would assume that the night was everything he dreamed it would be as well.

"Thank you for coming with me," Taehyung speaks into the night. You don't know why he's thanking you, seeing as he was the one who invited you to a party filled with people you've dreamed of meeting for years. Younger you who played Little Red Riding Hood in Into The Woods used to daydream about a night like this– a night filled with sparkly lights and surrounded by people you looked up to. The only thing missing was your favorite Broadway actor, Jeremy Jordan, kissing you on the cheek and confessing his love for you…

You could care less about Jeremy now.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." You smile, dipping to slide your smaller hand into his.

It's quiet for a moment, the two of you lost in thought as you make your way down, avoiding tourists who ooh and ahh at the Gershwin Theatre nearby. Finally, Taehyung breaks the comfortable silence.

"What time are you leaving for the airport tomorrow?" Something in his voice sounds like he doesn't want to hear your answer.

"Eight in the morning." You respond, your own tone of disappointment seeping through.

He clears his throat, turning his eyes to see someone walking up to their apartment building. His hand feels colder. His breathing is kind of uneven. For a second, you think he might be on the verge of a panic attack before he asks something unexpected.

"Can you go another day?"

You smile at the notion that he doesn't want you gone just yet, squeezing his hand tightly in your excitement-

"Like maybe you can catch a flight tonight? I can drive you there right now."

Oh.

Now you're confused.

With your sudden silence, Taehyung turns his head in your direction. You're staring straight forward, gathering the thoughts that he sent running across the city. If he doesn't want you to stay, why would he mention changing the flight date? Why would he want you to leave sooner? This makes no sense.

Is he not happy with you? Did you do something tonight that bothered him?

"Y/n." He cuts off your ragged thoughts. "If I could convince you to stay, I would… but I know this is your dream, and I want you to chase it." His eyes are glossy, the lights of the city reflecting in the coffee brown hues. He continues, his voice is shaking slightly (must be because of the cold). "But I think there's gonna be some bad weather tomorrow and maybe tonight would be a… safer bet?"

Bad weather? You didn't see anything on the radar? You've been checking the news often to ensure this flight wouldn't get delayed. You're already a worrywart when it comes to flying, so of course you would make sure that nothing would make you attempt to crawl out of the aircraft. You don't remember hearing anything about disruptive weather.

"I've been up to date with the news, though - I haven't heard anything about the weather?"

Still, you pull out your golden-cased phone (because of course you had to buy a case for the occasion) and check the weather. Clear skies. Which you show to Taehyung, but he seems unconvinced.

"I just– heard something, I don't know."

He's acting weird.

"Is something wrong?" You question softly, halting your footprints from butchering the snow's crystallized surface. Taehyung stops for a moment, unable to turn his gaze to you. The cloud that proves that he's breathing pauses, then continues, then pauses again. Was something actually wrong? Over the course of your relationship, you've found that you're extremely good at reading people… or is it that Taehyung just sucks at hiding his feelings?

Finally, he turns to you, a smile present on his face as he shakes his head– you try to stop your brain from realizing how ethereal he looks; now is not the time.

"Nothings wrong. I just want to make sure you're safe."

He's lying. You know it, but nonetheless, you don't question him further, pressing a hesitant kiss on his cheek to reassure yourself.

----

December 15th

With the last pair of socks (reindeer socks) stuffed deeply into your suitcase pocket, making you question if you would be able to close this thing, you finally finish packing for London. If you were excited last night, it's nothing compared to right now. Your heart has been doing backflips, unable to control your overwhelming elation and flooded thoughts. Your life is going to change tomorrow. You're auditioning for a West End production. Even though you know this is true, you still feel as if you're dreaming.

You would be lying if you said that you weren't sad to leave Taehyung… not being able to see him every day was not going to feel good, especially since you finally got over yourselves and outwardly confessed your feelings. It was going to be weird not having him there with you. Taehyung hasn't texted you since last night, which is unlike him… and you're trying so hard not to let it get to you. Especially since you already have enough to worry about. Still, you kind of hoped he would bring you to the airport to say goodbye.

Before you let it ruin your mood, you stuff yet another pair of socks into the overflowing suitcase before deciding that you're actually done. You could never have enough socks anyway.

Wheeling your suitcase toward the door, you turn to look back into your quiet and small apartment. The mustard yellow couch (which you thought would look extremely ugly but ended up being the best furniture choice in your entire apartment) sits vacantly, magazines rest on your kitchen counter, and the plant that Jimin had gifted to you last night once the opening was over stands proudly in the windowsill.

You remember the way Jimin bounced in front of you with the unwrapped present, explaining that the yellow color of the flowers meant “success” with an unbeatable sense of pride. You're going to miss everything about being in New York.

It's only a month. You'll be okay.

Taehyung's voice greets your thoughts; a memory from last night when he dropped you off at your door pops into your head.

"You're going to do amazing things…." He had said, a warm smile sitting on those lips you already missed. "And you're going to see me sitting in the front row at your first Broadway show… I promise."

You smile gently at the memory, remembering the feeling of his lips on yours before you pushed him down the hallway and out the door. He would've stayed on your doorstep all night if you hadn't.

With newfound confidence, you reach for the door handle and open the door.

And suddenly you're frozen, suitcase in hand.

Hazy, red-rimmed watery brown eyes are staring back at you, a shaking fist elevated as if he was going to knock on your door at any given moment. Taehyung is wearing the same suit he wore to the opening yesterday, his hair mussed up as he studies your concerned expression.

Did he… Did he not leave last night?

"Taehyung, what are you-"

"Don't go."

Your eyes skim up, glancing into his. They're wide, you notice… almost desperate. The more you stare, the more you realize just how red they are, shaking with the quivering of his lips. You swear you can hear your heart breaking…

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" You question.

Taehyung shakes his head slowly, releasing a deep breath that you think he's been holding all night. Honestly, you're starting to get a little freaked out… Did something happen when he tried to go home last night? Is he breaking up with you? Oh gosh, maybe he is breaking up with y—

"Please don't go." He repeats.

You study his eyes, trying to see if they're speaking words more than his mouth is… all you can see is deep-rooted fear and desperation. You're confused.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Just— please, do not get on that plane and just stay here for another few days." His voice is hushed as he's moving his way through your doorway and gently stealing your suitcase from within your hand.

Despite the tears that hug at his lash line, you can't help but feel the tiniest bit of amusement at his babbling. You know you're going to miss him while you're gone… but-

"Are you gonna miss me that much?" You smile, sinking closer to him as you place your hands on his shoulders. "Do you like me that much?"

You wish you could say that he's smiling back at you, but truth be told, this is the most serious expression you've seen on his beautiful face.

He's quick to respond. "This isn't about that…." He's also quick to remove your hands from his shoulders, backing you farther away from the door and towards the couch. He looks even more terrified in close proximity and it’s easy to register the beating of his heart, fast and heavy, between your linked hands.

Something is seriously wrong.

"What's going on?" You question hesitantly, your smile vanishing from your face.

"Just don't go, okay? You have to trust me on this." He begs with a choked up voice, glancing at your bag before removing it from your shoulder with now quick and frazzled hands. Stopping him before he can remove it completely, you grab the sides of his face.

"Hey, hey— stop. You have to tell me what's going on." You speak firmly. That's the moment you feel your heart drop to the floor... because his body is shaking hard between your palms. It nearly has you dropping everything and obeying his every plea… but your stubbornness is quick to step in. "I'm gonna be late for my flight, Tae. I've got to- "

He cuts you off. "I just don't think this is a good idea. It probably won't turn out the way that you want it to."

You're dumbfounded. Is he saying you're not gonna make it?

"Wha-" You laugh humorlessly, letting your bag drop to the crook of your elbow. "What?"

"Maybe it's just better to stay here."

The one person who's been rooting for you this entire time is suddenly deciding to take back everything he said?

"You've been pushing me since the moment we met to follow my dreams, and now you're telling me that it probably won't work out?" You scoff, eyebrows cinching in confusion.

He winces openly, his eyes squeezing shut. "I- No. That's not what I'm saying—"

"Then what are you saying exactly?"

The volume of your voice is getting louder, obviously catching Taehyung off guard since he pauses for a moment with nervous eyes, mouth hanging open. You don’t know what he’s trying to get out of this, but the desperation on his face is prominent as a single tear falls down his cheek.

Don't give in, Y/n. He's being an asshole.

"I just think it's smarter to stay here." He repeats.

And for you, that's not good enough. You're quick to pick your stuff up, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulder as you move Taehyung backward towards the door. He’s attempting to stop you, but the suitcase greets your hands once he's in the doorway. No way in hell were you not going. What is he even on about? Why is he being like this?

"Why are you being like this?"

"I'm trying to protect you." You try to ignore the tears in his eyes as he stares at you hopelessly, his hands attempting to reach for your suitcase before you roll it away from his pursuit with a scoff.

"Taehyung." You say shortly. "Move."

Yet when you try to move past him, he doesn't budge an inch, and he's gripping onto the sides of the doorway like a traffic barricade. Preventing you from dangers that probably don't exist. Your patience is wearing thin.

"Move."

Nothing.

"Move!"

He cracks. "No— No! I can't lose you again!"

This has your stubbornness wavering. You can't remember the last time you saw someone so worked up… so scared. Still, his comment throws you.

"What do you mean again?" You question, confusion tugging at your facial features when Taehyung goes completely silent.

He's staring at you. Standing still. Staring at you in a way that takes you back to the first day you met him at the cafe. The day he looked like he saw a ghost. The day you were scared of him and thought he was some kind of insane person… But now? Now, he's genuinely crumbling. Now he looks like a lost child asking for help, begging to find his home again.

That's when he breaks down.

With his arms reaching around you, pulling you into his chest, Taehyung releases a quiet cry. A sound you never wanted to hear. His whole body is shaking, quivering in your hold as you attempt to soothe him with a hesitant hand on his back. Still, he's clinging to you like a lifeline, gripping onto every last fragment of you that he can.

It's even becoming difficult to breathe.

"Please…" He cries. "Please don't go."

"Tae…" You speak softly, unable to focus on the time when he's crying harshly into your jacket-covered shoulder. He’s not just crying over you leaving. No, this is something more. "What the hell is going on?"

He removes himself, tears streaming down his face as he holds you by your shoulders. It takes everything in you not to bring him back into the hug… to dry his tears and tell him that everything's going to be okay. Now, you're not so sure.

"Listen," he sniffs, "I have no clue what's going on. I've been so confused since I saw you in the cafe again. That wasn’t the first time I met you and all I know is that you can't get on that plane because it will crash and you will die, so I need you to just stay here for a couple more days, please."

The plane will crash? You'll die? Your confusion only doubles as you try to remain calm; you don't want to call him a liar— but this is so unrealistic that it nearly makes you laugh out loud. Does he think you're stupid? Naive?

"How the hell would you know?" You question.

He pauses, the nervous habit of licking his lower lip returning. You're confused, angry, annoyed, and concerned all at once-- and here he is, being quiet as a mouse, unable to utter the explanation you so desperately want to hear.

"Taehyung-"

"Because I've lived this day before." He blurts.

Now you're quiet, your mind completely jumbled as you try to understand the words coming out of his mouth. Everything he's saying is making no sense… Nonetheless, he continues.

"I don't know how but I–" He shakes his head, red-rimmed eyes falling to the floor. "God, I'm living this nightmare all over again."

Confusion is an understatement.

"What are you saying?" You ask.

"Y/n…" He's now looking at you, his lips trembling as he attempts to catch his breath. It's as if everything he's been holding back from saying is nipping at the back of his teeth, hounding its way to his lips, and trying to escape through his mouth.

And then, he lets go.

"I’m a time traveler."

next chapter (coming soon…)

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The cold brew machine broke, a mess of nozzles breaking off the spout, cold brew splattered across previously cleaned surfaces, and the already stressed Jimin doubled in his stress levels. The pastries also had no expiration dates, causing him to contact the manager on a tangent, questioning when said pastries would expire— and telling him that last night's shift leader did absolutely nothing.

You've never heard Jimin talk ill of someone until today.

And when Jimin wasn't happy, no one was happy.

On top of that, he spilled an entire cube of cream across the backroom floor, soaking his backpack and causing the cardboard boxes holding coffee beans to rip and tear. This left Jimin in tears, but you promised him that you would clean it up— not wanting to make things worse for the poor guy. So, there you were, on your hands and knees, cleaning the flooded backroom of creamy hell.

This was not an ideal morning, but you were happy to help keep some of the stress from falling onto Jimin's shoulders.

Oh! And that's not all.

You decided that wearing a white shirt to work was a good idea! Why did you do that, you wonder? Hell knows! All you do know is that the cream accident wasn't the problem; it was the matcha accident soon after when you dropped an open bag of bright green matcha on yourself, leaving behind green stains all over the white surface of your top.

Screw you, matcha!

After spending a solid ten minutes scrubbing most of the green out of your shirt, (and convinced you were also wiping away the last of your sanity), the doors opened, and customers were welcomed into the cafe. You couldn't help but notice their curious eyes dropping down and gazing at your clothing, which is slightly clouded with a green tone in a splotchy pattern.

You love your job. You love your job. You love your job.

That's what you're currently chanting to yourself as you sit in the backroom, eyes watery and breathing labored while your heavy head sits in your hands. You had decided to take a break after spilling hot coffee on a customer, who ended up cussing you out before leaving in a tizzy. You hated letting people down—even customers who were ungrateful and snarky.

You bow your head, closing your eyes in an attempt to empty your mind.

Everything's okay. It's fine.

You try to comfort yourself, reminding your anxiety-filled brain that you have a West End opportunity coming up and that it won't be long till you leave this barista job behind. No more angry customers. There would be no more splotched green clothing, unless it was the green paint for Elphaba's appearance in Wicked The Musical.

It's not that you want to leave the cafe, but you are hoping for a change. And to pursue what you truly wanted to. Being able to avoid awful days like these was just the cherry on top.

The idea of theatre works like a charm. Your heart rate slows, and breathing regains its composure. For a moment, your head empties as you lay it against the wall behind you. You wish this feeling would remain until the end of your shift, but, unfortunately for you, it doesn't last long.

The second you feel like you're ready to get back out there, lifting yourself from your "backroom corner of sadness" and making your way to the cafe floor, Taehyung is standing at the front register. Suddenly, all that pressure comes racing back and seeps through every part of your body, deep down into the tiniest crevices and leaving you a mess.

What is he doing here?

Should you take his order?

Maybe you should wait a little longer and let Jimin handle it?

When he looks up from his phone, probably in an attempt to see who would assist him, his eyes meet yours. It feels like your heart fully stops, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron, begging for Jimin to come to your aid. Alas, Jimin is making a frappuccino on the bar farthest from the register. You're thankful when you see Olivia, one of your other co-workers, make her way to the counter, greeting Taehyung and taking his order so that you don't have to.

You know you're a coward. You know that you should talk to him, especially since he's standing right in front of you with a neon "perfect opportunity" sign shining brightly above his head. And no matter how badly your heart wants to, your cowardice is the barricade in the way of its pursuit.

Taehyung isn't looking at you anymore but looking at the menu overhead— another "perfect opportunity" for you to sneak past Olivia, avoid his gaze, and make it to the bar unscathed. Luckily for you, Taehyung doesn't say anything other than his order.

When he finally strolls back to his small table in the corner, his cookie dough latte is in hand (courtesy of Jimin because you were too scared to make it-- assuming that you'll mess it up and embarrass yourself). Still, despite not having the courage to talk to him, you can't help but find yourself staring.

The last time you saw him was when you kissed him in your dream. When he had his warm arms around you, enveloping you in his gentle hold. They are now covered by a grey sweatshirt which keeps your eyes from wandering along the muscle beneath. The last time you saw him was when he kissed you and said he loved you. Taehyung loves you. Well, at least in your dream. But, God, how you wish it were real.

Instead, you're faced with the true reality: Taehyung's usually comforting eyes cast away from your own and a brick wall placed between the two of you, just waiting to be smashed down.

And it's all your fault.

"You're staring." Jimin coos from beside you, giving you a nudge with his arm. You offer him a glare that could pierce through the aforementioned brick wall, clearing your throat as you reach for the next order ticket. Jimin exhales in dissatisfaction, "You should just talk to him already."

"Wasn't that your job?" You question, remembering back to when Taehyung had asked to see Jimin last week. For the "project." A part of you believes that his need to vent was not regarding the theatre article. It was regarding you.

"Yes. It's my job to tell you that you should talk to him. This has gone on long enough, and no matter how much I loooove being a middleman to you, this is just getting ridiculous," Jimin states, his voice laced with the sound of sarcasm and exhaustion… You make a mental note to call him later and tell him how much you appreciate him. He's shaking his head as he finishes off another latte with the art of a flower, a creamy design atop the light brown surface.

It would be best if you still asked Jimin for latte art lessons, too.

Jimin continues, "Anyway… you should. He probably wants to talk it out just like you do."

You glance back over to Taehyung, whose head is now resting on his palm, looking over what you would assume to be notes for his project. You take a moment to appreciate his solitude, running your eyes across his loose black sweatpants and grey sweatshirt. You've never seen him this home-like before— but you're not complaining. Not in the slightest.

Even though he's looking at the paper, his eyes seem out of focus — what was he thinking about?

"Am I gonna get some help here, or should I leave?" A rough voice snaps, drawing your attention to the front register where a semi-tall man stands with an unsatisfied expression on his face. You take in a short breath, apologizing profusely as you scurry over to the register and eagerly ask for the man's order.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job?" The man continues, unamused, his voice spitting fire across the register and straight into your nerve endings. You pause, glancing up at him and wondering if you heard him correctly. Who the hell was this guy? He's removing his credit card from the back of his phone when he barks out his order. "A four-shot americano. Just black. Got it?"

You nod slowly, heart rate spiking at the man's tone of voice before you glance back down at the register screen. Usually, rude customers don't bother you all that much… but today, after everything that has happened earlier in the morning, you can't help but feel the stinging at the back of your eyes sooner than you expected. You were already close to crying before, but now it's as if it's going to spill out at any moment.

Don't cry. Don't.

You steal a shaky breath, tapping his order onto the register screen.

The man chuckles in an irritated manner. "Do you even speak?"

"Sorry… I uh— Uhm," you clear your throat anxiously, "is there anything else I can get for you today?"

The man bends down slightly, resting his hands on the counter with a sardonic grin glued to his face. You've never felt so uncomfortable in your life. His eyes pan over your name tag that sits on your apron. "Y/n."

Hearing your name formed on his lips makes you even more uncomfortable, which you thought was impossible. Apparently, you were wrong.

"I'll get started on your Americano… It'll be three thirty-nine." You say quietly, motioning for him to pay as you step over to the bar in hopes of getting as far from him as you can. Your hand shakes as you pick up the cup, pulling shots and placing it down below the espresso machine. Looking to the side, you spot Jimin talking to a customer about their order, totally unaware of the situation at hand.

"Make it extra good for me, yeah?" The man says, almost seductively, ignoring his card in the chip reader and focusing his attention on you.

You give him a nod, throat constricted with anxiety as you attempt to calm your shaking hands, spilling the tiniest bit of an espresso shot down the side of the cup. You tend to it quickly, wiping the trail of brown with a rag before drying your hands on your apron. You're thanking your bar skills, having been able to finish it quickly, before you're handing it to the man who is still grinning in your direction.

"Here you go, sir… Have a great day." You paint a smile on your face, which is smeared at the corners of your lips, unable to hide your ever-growing discomfort.

It's the moment you turn to walk towards Jimin that he speaks up again, voice deeper than before.

"Did you put in four shots?" He challenges, staring down at the cup in his calloused hands with a disgusted expression.

"Yes, sir." You respond.

"Then why does it look like you missed it?" He utters, turning it in his hold and showing you a line of espresso falling down the side. You missed a spot. Usually, it wasn't a big deal, but you can feel your heart drop to the floor.

"I paid for four shots. Is this a joke to you?" His voice grows louder word by word, echoing in your ears as your voice wavers in response.

"I'm.. I'm really sorry— I can remake it for you if you'd—"

"I'm going to be fucking late." He sneers, pushing the coffee cup forcefully in your direction before he leans across the counter. His eyes rake you up and down, and you swear you stop breathing. "You should make this up to me in a different way, yeah?"

You can't think straight. This was the first time in your life where you actually felt fearful of losing it. The man is staring at you, every inch of him screaming what your mother always warned you about: "stranger danger." A smirk returns to his face before you hear Jimin's footsteps behind you.

"Excuse me-"Jimin starts, voice strained in frustration, but before he can say another word, Taehyung is beside the man with his hand gripped onto his arm.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Taehyung says, voice low and eyes laced with disgust as he turns the asshole in his direction. Taehyung, although his build isn't as buff as the poor excuse for a man before him, he's still taller than him— and every part of you hopes that this guy would be intimidated. Taehyung hands the drink back to the customer, his stare unwavering. "It's four shots. So take it and leave."

The man scoffs, backing up from the counter with disbelief written on every inch of his face. "Who the hell are you?"

You look at Taehyung, whose hand is balled in a fist as he removes the customer's card from the reader with the other, holding it up to glance at the name. He looks absolutely livid, though his voice is controlled when he speaks. "Jared Stone, is it?"

The man stumbles forward to snatch his card quickly, eyes boring into Taehyungs.

"I'm a journalist." Taehyung continues, calmly, "And unless you want your name written in the newspaper, I'd suggest you leave before I pick up my pen."

You can tell that this "Jared" is starting to falter, believing Taehyung's slight fib, his arms lowering a bit as Taehyung glares at him with the most intense look you've seen on his beautiful face. Taehyung is usually all smiles-- kind eyes with a gentle tone. Like soft snowfall. His surface of genuity hides his ability to be cold and direct. Now, he's anything but soft. His hand is still sporting a fist, and he jerks his head in the direction of the door, coaxing Jared to leave the cafe as soon as possible.

"Fucking asshole," Jared mumbles under his breath, clocking Taehyung in the shoulder with force as he makes his way to the door, throwing his Americano down and splattering hot coffee along the tiled flooring. Customers gasp quietly as he bangs the door open, disappearing amidst the crowd outdoors as you struggle to catch your breath.

What the hell just happened?

"Are you okay?"

You glance back at Taehyung, his dark yet soft eyes studying your face as he once-overs your appearance.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Now his voice is wavering; the cold lace in his voice is gone and replaced with concern. He's staring at you with every ounce of that concern plastered across his face. You can't help the flutter of your heart in response to having his attention again… the attention of the one person who has been ignoring your existence the past few weeks. But then again, what have you done to help that? Absolutely nothing.

Maybe that's why he looks away once you confirm that you're alright. Maybe that's why he gives you a nod and a "good" before making his way back to his table, albeit a little timidly. Maybe that's why he doesn't question you further and leaves you standing at the counter like a lost puppy, hopeful for the return of the one who loves you most.

When he said he loved you? That was a dream.

You can feel your lower lip quivering as you turn and rush to the back room, Americano frenzy left in your wake as you curl into yourself in the corner. You'll clean it up in a moment.

You know this is just a bad day out of many-- but it feels like everything has been going wrong. What you wanted most at this moment was the same touch of the man who haunts your dreams. You wish he would hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. And the one thing that used to be steady and solid was Taehyung's friendship. Now, even that is ruined.

You make a mental note to speak to him as soon as possible… but you feel way too small right now to even dream of being confrontational.

Maybe that's why you end up crying in the back room, alone, back to your "backroom corner of sadness" with smears of green atop your shirt and spilled coffee on your hands.

You're dreaming again.

It wouldn't take much convincing to know this fact, especially since this dream seems to pick up from the exact spot that your airport dream left off. It was the same lights that shone overhead like a glowing halo, the same aching yet excited feeling in your chest, the same brown backpack carry-on you're currently throwing over your shoulder. You definitely didn't pack light, even for your carry-on, so you can't imagine how heavy your actual luggage is.

How did you even pass luggage check-in?

—

Your thoughts wisp away as soon as the dream jumps to you sitting in your seat, evident from the low whirring of the engine and the uncomfortable leather seat you're sitting in. You've never been a huge fan of planes, since your parents thought it was a good idea to watch "Lost" in front of you right before one of the bumpiest plane rides of your entire life. Ever since that day, you've always been nerve-wracked while flying.

If Taehyung were here, it would probably be easier.

You knew that he wanted to come. You knew that he wanted to be your support system in person, especially during this time of excitement — but he had work and projects, and you had promised him that you'd survive a mere month without his hand to hold. You'd claimed that he would be your "virtual" hand, that you would think of him whenever things got tough, or you felt like you couldn't keep going. After all, he was only a call away.

He had said that he was grateful for this fact. And to stay safe. So, you plan to.

You're too busy admiring the blue sky above, clouds dancing, and creating shapes that only an artist's mind could see. You can see rabbits and dragons hidden within the layers of fog that make up the clouds. You're far too distracted to notice an old woman seating herself beside you. It's when she speaks that you finally fix your attention toward her.

"Is this seat taken?" The old woman smiles. She has light grey hair, kind eyes, and wrinkles that define her age to be over 60 at least. Despite this, she looks youthful and friendly, which makes your nerves feel lighter.

"No, it's all yours!" You return said smile, nodding to her as she places her carry-on beneath her feet. It's an embroidered floral bag; pink flowers cross in zig zags atop the brown surface.

"Where are you headed?" She questions, setting her wrinkly hands on her lap.

You smile gleefully. "I'm going to London, actually!" You can't help but laugh at the old woman's shocked expression.

"Wow! That's quite the plane ride you have ahead of you! It'll be worth it once you're there, though." She seems genuinely excited for you, unabashedly clapping her hands and heightening your excitement even more. You offer her thanks before resuming your study of clouds.

—

You wish you could control this dream, just to bask in the excitement for a little bit longer— but time skips abruptly to the takeoff, engine revving like a loud roar from a lion as it gains speed down the runway. For a moment, your heart palpitates, nerves returning full-fledged. Take off and landing is your least favorite part of flying, fearing the worst.

Within seconds, you feel a warm hand placed on yours. The old woman is smiling kindly at you, rubbing your skin gently in a nurturing way before she looks at you fondly.

"My husband was afraid of flying." She says, squeezing your hand before she resumes looking forward.

"Really?" You question.

"So much so that he used to grip my hand like a stress ball, absolutely crushed my fingers." The two of you laugh, a fond smile playing at her lips, which deepens the wrinkles on either side and makes her smile appear even larger.

"How did he get over it?" You ask, distracting yourself from the upward tilting of the plane that's finally taking its flight. A metal bird on solid wings that you have to keep reminding yourself of its purpose: to fly, not to fall.

"He just held onto me." She shrugs. "He passed away a few years ago, but we used to face all of our fears together. He said that I always made him feel safe enough to face anything."

"He must've been brave. I would have still been terrified." You laugh quietly, holding your breath as the plane finally takes its flight and dips the slightest bit.

She's smiling and laughing in response, a warmth of admiration crossing her features. "I don't think so; he was absolutely shaking."

"Poor guy, he must really love you to face that fear." You respond, finally calming down when you see that the plane has reached high enough without any issues. It allows you to reach down and grab a piece of gum from your bag, which you assume would make the popping of your ears cease.

"He did."

You smile fondly as you pop said piece of gum into your mouth, mint exploding across your tongue. The old woman and her husband remind you a lot of your relationship with Taehyung. He's your safety net, who made you feel as if you could achieve anything.

You loved him.

"Remember," the old woman starts, "tell your loved ones that you love them. You never know how long you have with them."

Your smile fades then, seeing her eyes slowly churn with gratitude, yet she can't hide the fact that she so obviously misses her husband.

"I'm so sorry for your loss.." You whisper, solemnly smiling towards the woman beside you.

"It's okay…" She pats your hand. "We'll be reunited soon enough."

—

Cell Phone Reminder Added:

Tell Taehyung you love him when you land.

—

Another time jump, and this time you can feel the turbulence jostling you within your seat, adding shock to your already fearful state. Your hands are still holding the old woman's hand, and tears are pricking at the back of your eyes like a prodding needle. You've been silently telling yourself that you're going to be okay for the past fifteen minutes, and yet every moment spent on this plane sends you into fifteen different stages of fight or flight mode. Mostly flight mode. You could probably fly this plane better than the pilots.

The loudspeaker crackles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some weather changes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened in the meantime, and we'll be through it soon."

You wish you could say that the announcement eases your nerves, but the second bump of turbulence sends you nearly flying out of your seat, hushed whispers filling the nerve-riddled cabin. Obviously, you weren't the only one within this aircraft that was nervous. You can feel the old woman squeezing your hand again, but even she can't hide the look of terror upon her face.

Another intense jump of the aircraft sends your eyes squeezing shut, legs holding you still by the seat in front of you. You're confident that the passenger seated there is probably too distracted by the turbulence to be annoyed with your childish antics of seat kicking.

Another crackle of the loudspeaker nearly makes your racing heart stop beating.

"Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm… Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm…"

The message is repeating like a chant.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and spark of lightning sends the lights of the cabin flickering once, twice, then completely turning off, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. A sudden lurch downwards has you yelping, searching out the window for a sign of safety, but you're met with near darkness from the thunderous clouds around you, which block any form of vision.

The cabin is loud now. Cries and shouts are heard around you as you cover your ears in an attempt to regain control of your fear.

You'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe…

Another plummet downwards forces the tears out of your eyes, a muffled scream filling your hands when your stomach jumps up and into your throat. Within seconds, the oxygen masks from above come falling down, and it takes you merely another second to reach for two of them, helping the old woman who is frozen in shock beside you to get her mask on before putting on your own.

You suddenly hear a piercing voice over the loudspeaker, which is crackling even more intensely than before. You hate that loudspeaker more by the second.

"Please prepare for impact."

That's when the screams of neighboring passengers start. A baby wailing in the back of the cabin has the tears pouring quickly down your cheeks. You can't think. You can't see. You wish you could turn on your phone and call Taehyung, but the repetitive swooping downward of the plane knocks you of your senses.

All you can do is remember the smile on his face while waving you goodbye. The loving eyes of a man who loves you. His soft hair flowing as he does a happy dance before you disappear around the corner-- a large smile present on his lips as he continuously sends finger hearts your way.

You wish you could tell him you love him too.

You pray that you will see him again…

It's when you finally underpass the clouds and see the ground quickly coming closer and closer that you stop crying, absolute terror freezing your body, and an immediate wash of acceptance overtaking you. The ground is coming on fast.

This is it.

It seems that every second that passes, another giant swoop of the aircraft takes its ascent. A single tear falls down your cheek when you're merely ten feet away in the plummeting plane.

The last words from your mouth are sincere and quiet:

"I love you, Tae."

A roar rumbles in your ears. You can feel an initial strike of pain from the ground's impact, muffled screams filling your ears, and then…

You jolt upright, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you grasp for any form of life that you can. This form of life happens to be your Phantom Of The Opera blanket, which you tug upwards while frantically scooting back towards your headboard. You can feel the sweat sticking to the polar bear pajamas that hug your legs, clinging to the material and making you feel even more claustrophobic than you already are. Your eyes are blurry, breathing heavy, and your heart is running a mile a minute.

For a moment, you think you're still on that plane. That you're hitting the ground with force and praying to stay alive.

It's only when your surroundings settle in; your warm yet sweat-covered bed sheets, wooden bedside table that is littered with pictures of you and your friends, and the low rumble of a storm outside; only then are you able to catch your breath.

Only then do the tears come crashing down, a tsunami of racing beats of your heart, and the teardrops that fall against your t-shirt.

It felt so real.

And yet it wasn't, you remind yourself, raising your teary eyes to see the "Wicked The Musical" poster that hangs like a trophy on your wall, flashes of lightning brightening the shadow of the window against said poster. Despite knowing that it was all a dream, you can't help but feel as if you're still falling. As if you're dead right at this moment and unable to accept that fact.

What if you are?

This thought scares you, the tears falling again as your hands tremble towards your nightstand in search of your phone. Once found, It's a quick venture for your contacts before you're pressing the call button.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

You bite your lip, the ringing on the line endless as if it was mocking you and your will to be alive.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

You try again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

No answer.

Again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

"Please pick up." You whisper, face crumpling at your lack of luck. Taehyung had always been so quick to answer you, but the flashing red of your nightstand alarm clock is reminding you of what time it actually is:

3:00 AM.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone—"

He's probably sleeping, yet you ignore this possibility and attempt to reach him one more time, cutting off the last call and immediately pressing the call button again.

What if you're actually dead? What if this is your life flashing before your eyes? What if—

A tired voice croaks across the line after just a few more rings. "Hello?"

"Taehyung?" You say, your tone panicked and shaking— which is very obvious since his once tired voice is suddenly wide awake when he responds.

"Y/n?" You can hear the rustling of his sheets, probably from him sitting up in alarm. "What's going on, love?"

You don't even register his slip, voice hiccuping from the sobs that are currently racking your throat. If it weren't for your complete lack of brainpower right now, you would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of you. But how could you possibly not cry after a dream like that?

"Where- Where are you?" You question, clinging to your comforter as another round of sobs are released from your constricted throat.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here." His voice gently whispers, rustling continues, and suddenly you can hear his muffled footsteps over the line. "It's okay, talk to me.. what's going on?"

You blubber a bit, unable to form coherent words, but another hush from Taehyung and an "it's okay" helps you to get your words out.

"I had a- a dream. It was a plane crash, Tae." You cry, breathing slowing down ever so slightly. Your mind is still foggy, but you can feel your consciousness slowly coming back. "Where are you?"

There's dead silence on the line, the previous rustling and footsteps coming to a halt. For a moment, you think you lost him.

"Taehyung?" You whisper, another sob threatening your voice.

"Y/n." His tone is suddenly serious. "Stay right there. I'm on my way, okay? Just breathe. I'm coming." You can hear a jingling of what's most likely his keys and the door slamming shut. "I'm coming. Stay there."

"Okay." You sniffle quietly, hearing the line cut off, and you're left in the silence of your room once more. Without Taehyung's voice to distract you, the heart that beats rapidly in your chest seems to intensify its speed. Why had he gotten so serious after you told him what your dream was?

Ignoring this thought, you quickly lean over to turn on your light, which drowns the once darkroom in rich golden color.

You can see the polaroid pictures of you and Taehyung next to the wicked poster. He's smiling that same boxy smile that lights up a room, his eyes watching you pose for the picture. Not once did he look at the camera, you notice— his eyes were constantly on you. As if you could disappear at any moment, so he had to soak up as much as he could.

Although seeing him smile made your aftershock body relax just the tiniest bit more, you can still feel the fear within you.

You can still feel the initial pain of contact from that plummeting aircraft as it hit the earth's surface. It was as if it actually happened.

The scariest part?

A part of you is almost certain that it did.

He arrives quicker than you thought he would, a loud knock on the door disrupting your dazed-out state, which you haven't moved from since he hung up. If someone saw you at this moment, they would probably think you're crazy. Honestly… with how vivid that dream was… you probably are.

It took about five minutes of sitting there in the silence of your room for the regret to start sinking in; regret for forcing Taehyung up and out of bed at three o'clock in the morning when he could be happily asleep right now. But the moment you open the door, all your regrets cease at the sight of him.

He's got an extreme case of bed head, which he's attempting to hide with a beanie, but his hair is still wildly soaring this way and that— which you probably would've laughed at if it weren't for the circumstances. His face is drenched in concern, and a jacket is thrown haphazardly over himself, which seems to be partly off of his figure from what you'd assume was him running. He had to have been, judging by his labored breathing and snow-covered sweatpants that are painted with white up to his knees.

If you were in your right mind, you would probably be beckoning him in by now— but the only thing you can think to do is cry.

And that's exactly what you do.

You swear you see his own features crumple too, but his arms are around you before you can fully comprehend if you were seeing correctly, solid and warm as his embrace melts into you and consoles your beating heart. He rubs the back of your head with his hand, whispering into your ear and reminding you that everything's okay. The breath that fans along the skin of your cheek is warm and gentle, softening your erratic puffs of breath.

Within moments, he's removing his hat, discarding it on the table, and slowly moving you to the couch before seating himself beside you. His arm only leaves your back when you're fully seated, but it's quickly moving in front of you so that he can hold your hand. Constant touch. Constant reassurance. He's so good at calming you despite barely having to do it before… It's like he already knows what to do. Suddenly, he's the same boy from the rooftop—the same warm and comforting expression and the same soft hands that hold your own.

His smooth, deep voice breaks through your sniffling and thoughts. "Can you tell me what happened?"

With a nod, you begin explaining your dream. It might be all in your head, but Taehyung's face continues to grow paler and paler as you tell him the details. A shell shock look overtakes him in a way that makes your skin crawl. Maybe it's because it was such a dark dream; perhaps that's why he reacts the way he does. But it looks as if he had gone through it himself. His eyes are falling everywhere but on you, and his hand is steadfast on your own and gripping onto it like a lifeline.

"Y/n…" He whispers, his dark chocolate eyes resting on your hands— you try to ignore the fact that you notice a swarm of tears pricking his lower lash line. You don't have the right to call him out for expressing emotions, not after begging him to come over at three in the morning.

Still, "it was just a dream," you assure. Stating this seems to calm the last of your own fear, the weight within your chest dissipating to a dull ache-- still present but bearable.

"Yeah." He nods, quickly wiping the tears away and passing it off for brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was just a dream." And despite this fact that bursts from his lips, you can still hear the fear within his voice. You don't want to question him in hopes that you'll avoid upsetting either one of you further… you've shed enough tears for one night.

Yet when he leans towards you to wrap his arms around you, tears remain tauntingly behind your eyes. His heart is beating rapidly beneath the thin material of his jacket, thundering hooves of a horse at full speed.

It reminds you a lot of your own heartbeat that night on the rooftop. Your heart too was beating fast enough to possibly jump out of your chest, taking you down the stairs and out of his sight before you had the chance to say no. Suddenly, his warm embrace feels cold. You still haven't talked to him about that night.

Talk to him.

You breathe, "Taehyung."

He hums in response, low and gravelly with his evident exhaustion.

"I'm sorry." You confess.

Taehyung removes you from his embrace, turning you towards him. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm here, and everything's okay now. Like you said, it's just a dre-"

"No." You interrupt, breathing deeply to summon up the courage you've never possessed. "I'm sorry for running away that night."

He stays silent for a moment. He's obviously connecting the dots and slowly coming to terms with what your apology was truly meant for. You can't blame him for being confused since you ignored each other for weeks before you called him over at three in the morning because of a silly nightmare. It's when his gentle eyes slowly meet yours that you know he's on the same page. He still doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for being scared… I've never really experienced something like that, and I just… I ran like a coward." You fiddle with your fingers, the soles of your feet gliding against the carpet beneath them. "I'm not used to having someone in that way. An intimate way, I mean…" Your cheeks flush. "I've never even kissed anyone until that night."

"Y/n." He whispers, drawing your eyes back to his fond expression. He's looking at you in a way that makes your heart churn: soft, warm, understanding, and loving… all of this hidden within the chocolate of his irises. Gentle Taehyung. "I was too forward. That was completely my fault. I felt like I pushed my luck… and I didn't want to come across as overbearing, so I just felt it was better to distance myself. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do something you didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt you."

His words are like a warm hug around your wavering heart. You didn't really think about how embarrassed he might have felt, giving his heart to you only to have it left on that rooftop in the cold chill of winter.

You know that you have to make it up to him.

There's a pause of silence in the room, deafening your senses… which must be the only reason why you have the confidence to say:

"Kiss me."

Taehyung looks baffled.

Well, it's too late now.

"A do-over." You add.

Taehyung looks torn, yet his eyes are glued to yours. You try to avoid his gaze, even though you were the one who mentioned kissing in the first place.

Finally, he whispers, "Y/n…"

"Kiss me… I promise I won't run." You explain, words nearly catching in the back of your throat from your increasing nerves. You really didn't think this through.

Taehyung's frozen; the color that was once gone from his face when you told him about your dream is now rushing full force back onto his cheeks. It warms your soul. He looks almost like a child but with an intensity that is anything but childlike. You can nearly feel your heart drop into your stomach.

"Are you sure?" He questions, eyes never leaving yours.

You nod. "I'm done being afraid."

And that's all he needs.

He's slow, like the tide on a lazy river, full of gentleness and cautiousness to ensure that you won't fall overboard. That you won't run away.

And you don't.

It feels like years until his lips are placed delicately on your own, as still as a rock but warm and soft to the touch, beckoning you into its heat. Taehyung is testing the waters, moving his lips ever so slightly against yours… as if he was questioning whether or not you truly wanted this. So, in a trance, you slowly move your lips against his in return, parting them and sinking into the motion.

It seems that this was the only way to reassure him, and you must have done something right— seeing as his hand strays from your wrist and works its way up your arm. His touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps snaking along your skin, his brows cinching as he leans in even closer to you, and finally parts his lips against yours, dipping to capture your lower lip between his.

If you said you weren't inwardly freaking out for a moment there, you would be lying. Not once have you ever kissed anyone like this. But this is Taehyung, and for some reason, after the initial shock, it feels as if you both have kissed dozens of times. It feels right. Good.

His hand is now snaking around your neck, pulling you in even further, which you didn't think was possible. You swear you can feel your heart jump into your throat when a soft moan escapes his lips as he sneaks his tongue along the line of your lips. Not knowing what else to do, you part your lips for his access.

Not once has a boy been able to give you the shivers, and yet here Taehyung is lowering the last of your resolve when his tongue slides into your mouth. Your face turns beet red when a hiccup uncontrollably constricts your throat.

Taehyung stops abruptly, breathing out softly and distancing himself by only a fraction, probably to make sure you're still alive while still being encompassed in your warmth. You're definitely alive. Still, you feel as if you have to pinch yourself to make sure.

A smile sinks onto his lips, and your heart flutters at the low chuckle that meets your ears. He's perfect… in every way. Your heart clenches from pure adoration for the man in front of you. He's all smiles, lips kiss bitten and eyes soft and gentle... Without being able to restrain yourself, you move back towards him and meet his lips once more.

Like a switch, Taehyung responds a bit quicker this time, resuming his tantalizing routine with his tongue within your mouth. His breath is hot, mingling with your own when you stretch your arm up to place your hand within the softness of his wavy hair. You feel as if you're starting to get the hang of this, smiling a bit and tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You swear, the moment you release your own small sound (that you'll probably be embarrassed thinking about later), Taehyung becomes even more heated. He holds the sides of your face gently as if you're made of glass, but his lips say otherwise as they kiss you roughly.

Taehyung moves with you, laying you down on the couch so that he's hovering over you, carefully moving your legs with one hand to keep them from being crushed. All the same, he's keeping the smallest of distances between the two of you. Once you're fully situated, he finally takes the initiative to lay his weight down as his kiss deepens. You can feel the shock and sizzling heat traveling down to your stomach, making your head spin wildly— and obviously, Taehyung feels it too, judging by the low groan that breaks free from his lips.

"I missed you, Y/N." He breathes between kisses, transferring from your lips to your chin, to the side of your face, all the way over so he can take your earlobe between his teeth which sends shockwaves throughout you. How is he so good at this?

You agree with a hum, another small whimper escaping you as he continues his venture down to your neck.

"I mean it… I missed you so much." He repeats, pausing his movements to meet your lips again with a gentle kiss. He strokes your face with his free hand, the other clasped within yours (which you hadn't even noticed they were intertwined until now). "I miss you."

There's a break in his voice, and the slight tremble of his lower lip is throwing you off. Was he about to cry? A second ago, he was devouring you, and now he sounds like a lost puppy. Bless his soul.

"I'm right here." You whisper, running your hand through his hair to push his bangs out of the way. You want to get a good look at him, make sure he's okay. You ignore the catch in his throat.

"I still miss you." He repeats.

It takes a moment before he shakes his head, laughing with a quiet "sorry" before he sinks back down to kiss you. You don't question him further. In fact, you're too busy freaking out to question him further. You don't know where it came from, but a sudden surge of boldness overtakes you, and you're reaching for the lapels of his jacket, shifting it slightly.

Taehyung doesn't seem to be thrown off and is quick to respond, sitting up to remove it and throw it on the ground beside the couch. He's no longer damp from the sleet outside, but warm beneath.

With another deep kiss and a dip of his hips (which is stealing all the remaining breath out of your lungs), he reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

Just when you're about to move his hands up in an effort to get this shirt off, he pauses. You squirm a little, wanting skin-on-skin contact as soon as possible— but Taehyung is frozen.

"You okay?" You question, heat rushing to your cheeks at the notion that he might be overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn't want this much of you.

You're such an idiot.

You hold your breath. "If you don't…" You begin, eyes running in every direction, "… if you don't want to, that's oka-"

"No, no. No." He shakes his head quickly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips… yet he still seems hesitant. "That's not it. Believe me. I want to."

You can feel your stomach flutter. He could lift one finger, and he'd have your heart soaring.

"It's just…" He pauses, breathing labored. "I have to tell you something… before this goes any further, there's something you need to know."

"What?" You whisper, eyes wide with concern. "Do you have any diseases?"

He laughs loudly at this, shaking his head which tousles his hair this way and that before he leans down to kiss your forehead. You're confused now… And horny. Not a good mix.

"Taehyung, just tell me already." You punch him playfully, hoping to resume this make-out session you've been waiting for for way too long.

He still seems nervous about continuing, his eyes wavering away from your questioning gaze. Every second he takes for silence is adding more nerves onto your chest… was it that serious?

"When I first met you…" He starts, licking his lower lip (which you've noticed is one of his nerve habits) before he finally meets your eyes. He might be slow-moving and sensual on the outside, but his eyes hold a deep churning of fear that makes the already evident goosebumps on your arms a bit more painful. "When I met you that day at the cafe… That wasn't the first time I met--"

Before he can finish, your phone rings. Blaring loud. You're annoyed for a moment, wondering who the hell was trying to get in touch with you at this specific time, but as soon as you see the name on the phone screen, you nearly pass out.

Hyun Do-yun, Film Out Theatre

Holy shit.

The audition. The video audition you sent for the West End audition.

You gasp loudly, reaching desperately for your phone on the coffee table. Taehyung is still hovering over you with curious eyes-- you would give anything to hear what he was going to say… but this call was way too important.

"Can I… It's a theatre opportunity." You whisper, unable to hide your nerves. Your heart is beating full force, just like it was a second ago when Taehyungs lips were on yours.

He nods quickly, smiling at you while he plays with the ends of your hair, keeping himself busy when you finally pick up the call.

"Hello?" You speak softly.

"Hi! Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" A voice of a middle-aged man speaks back.

"Yes, this is." You nod, glancing at Taehyung. He's looking at you fondly, continuing to play with your hair. So patient. Your heart swells.

"Perfect! This is Hyun Do-yun from Film Out Theatre Company! I'm calling regarding your audition for 'The Eternal'? I just wanted to let you know that we've accepted you for the in-person auditions on December 16th! Are you still able to be in London by then?"

You freeze, eyes locking wide on Taehyungs, which he seems to catch your surprise and is looking at you with a questioning stare. There's no way this could be happening. There's no way you just made out with Kim Taehyung, and now you're getting this call. There's absolutely no way. Your heart feels like it's about to combust, and it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings before you respond.

"Wow.. That is-! Wow, thank you!" You sputter, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm absolutely available; thank you so much."

"Perfect! I'll email you all of the information regarding callbacks, and we'll see you on December 16th!" He chuckles; a shuffling of papers is heard on the end of the line.

"Awesome. Thank you so much again!" You can't contain your smile, closing your eyes in glee before he finally says goodbye and hangs up the phone.

It takes you a moment to truly come back to your senses, the aura of warmth from Taehyungs body hovering above yours finally shaking you from your resolve. Still, he's looking at you with curious and elated eyes at the smile on your face… he must know it's good news!

"I got the callback, Tae." You choke out, excitement bubbling in your throat and causing your words to come out in nearly a squeak.

"What's the call back for?" Taehyung questions.

Oh right, you never even told him about this one— while you were too busy being an idiot and not making a move.

"It's a West End production called 'The Eternal'!! The lead role, Taehyung. The lead role!!"

His veiny hand that was previously playing with the ends of your hair hesitates for a split second, and a flash of something crosses his face. If he didn't immediately start smiling and shaking you with excitement, you might have asked him what that initial look was for-- but you're suddenly too overcome with excitement to care anymore.

"Y/n that is-- amazing." Taehyung beams, deeming it necessary to reward you with a quick peck on your lips. Every time he touches you, the previous thoughts of the audition-- what you were going to wear, your makeup, everything-- all of that seems to waver away in a fraction of a second. All you can think about is the fact that Kim Taehyung is on your couch, practically straddling you and kissing you as if you've always been his. As if this was something he was used to doing daily. If it weren't for your awareness of when you met him, you would probably think that he's known you for most of your life.

Despite the almost embarrassing fact that you're leaning in again to resume the kiss, he pulls away a bit with a smile.

"Woah, slow down. I want to know more about that audition." He's chuckling at your disappointed expression before you're flying through the details of the aforementioned audition. You tell him about the night that you got the email, how Kim Namjoon was the one who reached out to the director and gave you a good word. Taehyung sits quietly as you explain, his hand holding yours as he denies having anything to do with the fact that Kim Namjoon received a video of you singing. You don't believe him when he says that it wasn't him, but you continue anyway.

It may be in your imagination, but the more you speak of the audition, the more Taehyung seems to remove himself from your embrace. At the moment, you don't think anything of it. He's probably more intrigued that you, of all people, are receiving this kind of opportunity rather than the fact that the two of you were making out merely minutes ago.

"Wait..." You scoot up a bit, removing Taehyung completely from lying above you-- seating yourself across from him on the couch. "You we're going to say something to me before I got the call."

Taehyung freezes for a second, glancing at you before he quickly rushes out with a response. "Actually, it's not important."

You give him an "I don't buy it" look.

"Seriously, it was nothing." He insists with a laugh, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. He must know that touching you has a noticeable effect on your ability to function, especially since your eyes are falling to where the skin-on-skin contact occurred. Still, you press on.

"Taehyung, it was obviously not nothing..." You deadpan. "It took you a minute to even get the words out."

"Yeah! Because it was so stupid and didn't need to be said." He counters.

"You're a terrible liar." You respond.

Taehyung narrows his eyes towards you, pretending to be hurt by your comment.

"Come on, Tae, just tell-" But before you can fully get the words out, he leans over and lands a peck on your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours before he pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face.

You can feel your cheeks heating up, a small smile forcing its way onto your lips... This guy is dangerous. Despite this, you can't help but realize how wonderful it is to think about the fact that he could kiss you at any moment. That he wants to kiss you and hold you in the way that you've been hoping for for months. He has no idea how long you've waited for this.

He chuckles at your dazed expression, sighing quietly. "You should probably get some sleep... You have a shift tomorrow."

You stare. "How did you know that?"

Taehyung pauses. "You.. You always work on Fridays, right?"

You nod before throwing a grin his way, raising your hand to his wild hair that's grown wilder after your little rendezvous. "I guess I have a stalker now."

He looks at you incredulously, removing your hand from his head of hair with a quiet "am not." The two of you share a smile, enjoying the peacefulness that encompasses the room before he's finally raising himself from the couch. He's grabbing his things before you finally attempt to stand up with him-- and yet, he immediately stops you.

"Now, now. Your precious West End feet should never touch the floor again!" He says spiritedly, delicately placing you back onto the couch with a kiss. "I'll see myself out, okay? Get some rest."

You don't fight with him, enjoying his dramatics. He's making his way towards the door when he turns to offer you one last smile, blowing a kiss your way before he's disappearing out into the hallway.

For a second, you think that maybe this was just another dream. This whole night could not have happened... it was just way too unrealistic. Yet, here you were. After thousands of pinches later to make sure you were conscious, your eyes meet Taehyungs discarded beanie on your small dining table. He forgot it.

It's winter... he's going to freeze.

Without a second thought, you're leaping up towards the table, snatching his beanie while bounding towards the door to catch him.

Before you can fully leave your apartment entrance, you halt in your tracks, eyes widening slightly.

Taehyung had barely gone anywhere. He's standing in the hallway, his forehead resting against the hallway wall, with his arms placed above his head. Before you can call his name, he makes a quick movement as if he's going to punch it... your breath catches in your throat when he turns into view.

Is he crying?

Why is he crying?

His eyes are red as he grabs a fistful of his hair in both hands, pacing back and forth between the sides of the hallway. He looks completely shaken up. He seats himself on the ground, curling his legs up. You can hear quiet "shits" and "fucks" escaping his mouth as he hides his face in his hands, throwing you off slightly since you've never heard him outwardly cuss before. If it weren't for your fear of confrontation, you would probably be hugging him by now. You don't want to disturb him anyway... not when he probably thinks he's alone. Moments like this need privacy.

The last thing you see is Taehyung picking himself up, closing his eyes together as he attempts to control his breathing before he's shakily making his way towards the door.

If there was one thing Taehyung was bad at, it was hiding his emotions.

But he was, almost scarily, good at keeping secrets.

next chapter (coming soon)

tag list: @vantecaffe @moonchild1 @procrastination-queenie @hobipaint @jeonfiles @surilirani (unable to tag) @dopedreamfireparty @vantezza @audstylesgirl @getmemyfries (unable to tag) @unicornbabylover @deliciousdetectivestranger @luckyzipperscissorsbat

"Penny, what happened to you sticking to your opinions no matter what?" Ethelyn wondered aloud. Her sister had a bad habit of conforming to those around her. It was a behavior she had developed after growing up in an environment where your every move was scrutinized. While it wasn't that big of a deal to the younger sister, Ethelyn couldn't help but worry. In the wrong situation, it could prove to be dangerous.

"Look girls, that's the spot where your father and I met!" Their mother turned around to face them before the younger sister could respond. Their feet came to a stop as they looked over at a gazebo by the lake.

Penny groaned. "Do you have to say that every single year?"

"I think that's wonderful, ma." Ethelyn gave a smile. The older woman returned the smile before she resumed walking. Ethelyn watched as the woman picked up her pace to make it back by her father's side.

"Hey Ettie, I think I'm going to do it this summer." Penny suddenly announced, turning to look at her sister.

"Do what?"

"Have sex."

The older sister's brows raised at the woman's words. "With some random person here? Don't you think you deserve better than that?"

"What's wrong with the people here? They're like us."

And that was the problem entirely. Ethelyn didn't voice this thought. Instead, she turned and began following in the direction her mother had gone. By that evening, she regretted not telling her sister that her plan was a bad idea. At dinner she had seen her wondering eyes searching for the lucky candidate she would end up giving herself to. Her flirtatious smiles towards the busboy were evidence enough that she had found her target. Ethelyn wanted to tell her to knock it off. That it wasn't worth it. And she would have if her father hadn't sealed her sister's decision in stone.

"Hi there, Mr. Kim. These are my daughters - Penny and Ethelyn. I'm sure your father told you a lot about my Ethelyn." Came the man's charming smile. It made the eldest daughter's stomach twist. She loved her father, truly, but being addressed like a car for sale had never felt right.

"I heard lots of good things. I'm sure you heard only the best about me. Am I even more handsome than you expected?" Came the stranger's reply. Ethelyn glanced up to see the man's plump lips curled as he looked down at her father. Her father gave a hearty laugh while nodding, his left hand bringing a napkin to his lips to wipe his mouth down.

Somehow that was all it took to convince her father to send her off with the man. It helped, of course, that Mr. Kim's fathered owned the entire resort. Never before had anything been clearer. Her father wanted her to give his family a chance. If it worked out then she would be able to marry into wealth. Then, her father would never have to worry about her again.

"What's going on over there?" Ethelyn asked as the pair approached a tent full of people.

"A dance class. We have the finest dancers here." The man next to her answered. "Do you want to go dance?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She hadn't been dancing in a while. And despite barely knowing the man next to her, she allowed him to lead her over to the tent. They had meant to dance when they made it to the tent, but the woman couldn't help but freeze upon seeing the dancer in the center of the crowd. The way he moved was like seeing poetry come to life. Every twist and turn was like a new line, words full of seduction and repressed emotion. It was hypnotic to watch. She could feel her limbs burn with a yearning to join the man, yet she was pulled away from her daydreams when Mr. Kim leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"That's Park Jimin. He's our best here."

"That's quite clear, isn't it?" The woman breathed out, giving a nervous laugh as she tried to remove her eyes from the dancer.

"Just wait until you see what I can do."

Then the man began to do his dancing. She was unsure if he was being serious or if he had meant to be funny, but it was hard to not laugh as the man began to do wild dances. People around him moved back a few steps, most likely afraid they would be attacked by his swinging arms.

"I take it back. You're clearly the best here." She had told the man.

Later that night when she returned to the cabin, she was relieved to find her sister sitting in their room with a magazine sitting in her lap and a facial mask on. Their eyes met for a brief second before the eldest sister began removing her clothes.

"How was it?" Penny asked as she flicked to a different page.

"How was what?"

"Going out with Seokjin. Daddy must have worked hard to deliver that man on a silver platter for you. I wonder what he said. Was it 'oh my Ethelyn rescued thousands of animals from wildfires last year' or-"

"Cut it out, Penny. If you want Mr. Kim so terribly then why don't you go for it? I don't want him." Ethelyn cut the woman off just as she finished slinging her nightgown over her head.

"Mr. Kim," the youngest gave an amused snort. "He must be boring for you call him something so mature sounding."

"He's not boring. It's just respectful. He's a great guy. Funny, too." Ethelyn replied as she climbed into her bed.

"Then why don't you want him?"

"Because he's been delivered to me on a silver plate."

With that, the woman switched the lamp on her nightstand off and turned over to face the wall. She waited for another snarky comment from her sister. When it didn't come, she gave a small sigh of relief and allowed her eyes to close.

The next day was about the same as the first. While her father went to golf with his friends, her mother and sister dragged her along to a makeup class. She fumbled with cosmetic products for about half an hour before she became so overwhelmed that she snuck away. Much to her surprise, she was able to spend the majority of the day sitting by the lake next to their cabin with a book in hand. When evening came, her father forced her to get ready for dinner.

From there it was almost as if she had deja vu. At the end of dinner, Mr. Kim returned and asked for Ethelyn to join him. She could hardly say no between her father and mother's insisting babbles. She could hardly say anything at all. And so, she left the table and ignored her sister's amused stare as left the dining hall with the broad shoulder man next to her.

"Are we dancing again?" She asked when they stepped onto the grassy hill outside. The question was casual, but her heart pounded with excitement. Her fingers were crossed in hopes he would say yes.

"You want to do that?" The man asked as if in disbelief. "Dancing gets boring doesn't it?"

And that's how she found herself sitting amongst a bunch of elders listening to a monotoned voice call out bingo numbers. The numbers on her card had become blurred from the amount of hours she spent staring down at them. With the moon high in the sky, she couldn't help but bite back a laugh. Some adventure, came her bitter thought.

When the game ended, the man was pulled to the side by an older couple. The woman waited for him patiently and was surprised when he informed her that he had to go. A part of her was glad for this while the other half grew nervous at the amount of freedom it granted her. After she told him goodnight, she set out for the dancers. Tonight she would dance properly. Tonight she would be alive.

Much to her disappointment, the dancing was already over when she returned. That or it hadn't occurred tonight. She stared at the empty tent with slumped shoulders for a second before she turned and started back towards her family's cabin.

Along the way, she ran into a man carrying an armful of fruit. He was struggling to make it up the heel with such a load to carry. At first, she intended on ignoring him. While she wanted to help, it was dark out and she was alone. He was a man. Handsome, yet still a man. But when he dropped some of his fruit onto the ground she couldn't help but stop and pick them up for him.

"Thank you," he told her. She was surprised by how deep his voice was. Never before had she heard such a calming sound come from someone's throat.

"Do you want some help carrying this?" She asked the man. He hesitated at first, but when he thought about taking the other half of the fruit he couldn't help the quick 'please' that fell from his lips.

Ethelyn didn't know where they were going. That terrified her. And yet, at the same time, she had never felt more thrilled in her life. It was exciting to not have a schedule. To not have a known destination. To walk alone in the dark with a stranger. It was reckless. It was new. It was everything she was trained not to do.

She learned the man's name was Taehyung. He wasn't much of a talker, but when he spoke to her she couldn't help but smile at the sight of his curls bouncing atop of his head. He lead her down a curvy path before they came upon a tall set of stairs. The two of them shared an exhausted glance just at the sight of them, but they pushed forward regardless. It wasn't too long after they finished climbing the stairs that the man walked up to a building.

Even from outside, the sound of music blasting could be heard. Taehyung had to give someone a password before he was allowed inside the building. Then, he had to inform them that Ethelyn was with him. The first thing that the woman noticed was the smell of sweat and alcohol that clung to the thick, humid air inside of the building. It had caught her off guard at first, but her attention was stolen away when she realized she would lose Taehyung in the crowd of dancers if she didn't pay attention.

It was hard to focus on the man with all the dancing bodies in the crowd. She tried to make herself as small as possible as she walked by them. If her father saw her in a room where such vulgar dancing was taking place she was sure the man would have a heart attack. It made her feel guilty. Yet, she had never felt more alive.

"What is this place?" She couldn't help but ask Taehyung when she stood next to him by a table full of snacks.

"Don't worry about it. These people would never let someone like you in here unless you have a way in." The man told her, his eyes quickly scanning over her expensive appearance. "You're lucky they let you in with me."

His words only made her heartbeat race more. So it wasn't just her father who would forbid her from coming somewhere like this. That made it even more thrilling.

"Jimin!" The man next to her called out. His sudden loudness caused her to flinch slightly. She watched as he waved a familiar face over. It was the man she had seen dancing the night before. The way his body moved had haunted her throughout the day. With him standing just a few feet away with sweat glistening on his skin and a woman pressed against him, she couldn't help but yearn to dance with him. The urge became even stronger when she noticed the way his plump lips curled into a confident smirk. The amount of control he had over his body was beyond impressive - and he knew that. Nobody could ever be anywhere near as enticing as Park Jimin. That was something she learned quickly.

The man glanced over in the direction of Ethelyn and Taehyung. He whispered something to the woman he was dancing with before he broke away and started towards the pair. He barely even glanced at Ethelyn, yet he threw an arm around Taehyung and shot the man a wide grin.

"Look who it is. Did you bring the goods?" Jimin questioned with a quirked brow.

"You know I did," Taehyung spoke with pride. Jimin glanced at the table behind him and turned around with a scowl.

"You brought fruit, Tae? Fruit?"

"Hey, do you know how hard it was lugging all of that fruit up here? Eat it or starve - your choice."

Jimin shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then his eyes landed on the stiff woman next to Taehyung. Her attention was locked on the dancing taking place in the room, her eyes glimmering with an excitement Jimin hadn't seen in anyone's eyes in a while. With the pearls around her throat and the fancy summer dress hanging from her shoulders, it was painfully obvious that the woman was a guest from the resort.

"Why's she here? You know Yoongi won't be happy about an outsider being here." He spoke to Taehyung with a nod towards the woman.

The man's question caught the woman's ear. She forced herself to look away from the dancers so that she could meet the man's curious eyes. "I carried fruit."

"Is that right?" Jimin found humor in this. Before another word could be shared, Taehyung shrugged the man's arm off his shoulder so that he could cross the room with fast feet. Jimin followed the man with his eyes. It was no surprise when he found Taehyung wrapping his arms around a familiar male figure.

"Do you dance?" Jimin asked the woman after a few seconds passed.

"No."

"Could've fooled me. Haven't seen too many people look so joyed around here."

"I saw you dancing the other night."

"Yeah? Now that you say it, I remember seeing you with pretty boy. You must come from one of the more prominent families here."

"My dad's a doctor. He comes here almost every year. Loves this place for some reason."

"And you?"

"I hate it. Everyone's so-"

"Pretentious? Snobbish? Fake?"

"Yes."

The man watched as the woman's eyes flickered back towards the crowd of dancers. He knew that having the woman stay longer could cause trouble for everyone in the building, but seeing her so desperately want to join the rest of the crowd got the better of him. So, he invited her to dance. Her eyes had grown wide at the invitation, but her answer came with zero hesitation.

Within just a few seconds, the pair were in the midst of the crowd. The woman had no idea what to do with her body. After watching the woman struggle to copy what he was doing with his own body, Jimin gave an amused laugh and stepped closer. The woman breathed in sharply when the man's hands landed on her hips. He pushed against them, guiding them for a minute before he removed his hands and watched as the woman continued with the rhythm he had started.

"Just like that." He told her as he began moving his hips again. Their eyes met as they swayed, their stares locked on each other as their bodies inched closer and closer. The woman tried to hide her smile as the man's fingers wrapped around her forearm and brought her arm to rest around his neck. He didn't have to do the same for her other arm, she had already trapped him by the time he dropped his hand. And just like that, the smile on the man's face vanished. It was like a switch had been flipped. The woman thought she was staring into the eyes of a different man as he placed his hands on her hips and tugged her even closer to him.

He learned that the woman was a fast learner. After her hips found the rhythm, it was hard to stop them. He was impressed with the way she moved against him, so much so that it was hard to keep from sneaking a peek down at her swaying body. It was her facial expression that saved him. The way she stared at him as if he had just shown her all of life's secrets through his dance. For the first time in a while, he felt seen.

And then the moment was gone. The song came to an end and without a second thought, he ripped his body away from hers. It was a decision he made in a split second. While he regretted it as soon as he walked away, he knew it was for the best. Even just the brief moment shared between them had been intoxicating to a point that he knew pushing the boundaries further would be dangerous. They were from two different worlds. He couldn't risk it. Not when he had everything to lose and she had nothing.

It proved to be too intoxicating for Ethelyn as well. For the next week, she found herself slipping into the memory of that might. The walk back to the cabin felt like she was walking on air. All of the stress and pressure she had hidden away inside was temporarily replaced with a euphoria that she knew she'd probably never experience again. But that didn't stop her from craving it desperately.

At times she found herself dancing all alone. It helped ease her mind, but it wasn't the same. Her hips were far too cold and the lack of music reminded her that she was stuck in cruel reality. She couldn't get lost. She wanted to get lost.

"Ethelyn, are you listening?"

"I told you. She's been like this all week. It's driving me crazy."

"You think she's sick?"

"I'm not sick." She responded to her father as she finally looked up from her bowl of untouched soup.

"What's got you stuck in la-la land?" Her mother asked.

"It's the book I finished reading - it's about the injustices within our justice system." The woman lied swiftly.

"That's my girl." Came her father's proud smile before he began digging into his grilled salmon again. Ethelyn could feel the eye roll coming from her sister. They both knew there was no book about the justice system in their room. And while it was simply a lie to one sister, it was an entirely different deal to the other. Yet again, her older sister had set standards out of reach for Penny.

That night the sisters found themselves arguing because of just that. Penny was tired of being the younger sister who sits in the shadow of Ethelyn. And Ethelyn was tired of being the standard. She wanted to break free of the identity her parents had created for her. More importantly, she wanted Penny to discover an identity that made her happy. Because unlike her, Penny had a chance to be who she wanted to be.

The heated discussion had ended with the younger sibling rushing out of the cabin. She was dolled up to perfection, prepared to take the world by storm at least until the sun rose once more. Ethelyn had followed her out almost immediately, but no matter how much she begged her sister to slow down and rethink her decision, Penny kept marching forward. So, she let her slip out into the night. There was nothing she could do to change her mind.

That infuriated her. So much so that she found herself right back at the very place the entire world had warned her to stay away from. After negotiating with the man guarding the door, with money, of course, she was allowed inside. She ignored the stares she received as she sauntered into the building and welcomed the warmth of the room with wide arms. Despite not being the best dancer, she found herself dancing with the first man who she found halfway decent. In that moment the world she knew did not exist. She was not Ethelyn Richards. She was just Ethelyn, a woman who desired to be completely free.

The man she danced with was good at what he did. And though he wasn't Jimin, she still found herself getting lost in his touch as he guided her into a new dance when the songs changed. Slowly, the people around her began to see her differently. Perhaps it had been because she had removed the cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. Maybe it was because she had let her hair down from its preppy bun. Whatever it was, she loved it. A grin unlike any other formed on her face as she realized the people around her were cheering her and her dancing partner on. When the song ended she found herself laughing with joy, holding onto the shoulders of her partner tightly as he carried her away from the center of the floor.

She had abandoned the man shortly after that. Her feet had carried her out into the night air. A cigarette rested between her lips - it had been a parting gift from the stranger inside. She had never smoked before, but she thought it would be nice to try it at least once. This was her adventure after all. She finally had control.

The woman had only been outside for a moment before the door of the building swung open. There he was. Sweat clung to his skin from the dancing he had done throughout the night. His hair stuck to his forehead, something she had only briefly noticed before he had turned his head. He was looking for something. For someone. The realization that he had been looking for her only came to be when his eyes found hers and the features on his face softened ever so slightly. He glanced at the cigarette between her fingers, scoffing in disbelief at the sight before he plucked it from her hold and tossed it to the ground.

"You're trying to escape the image daddy made for you, huh?" He wondered aloud. "Do you even understand how fast it will get back to your father that you've been up here letting loose? Especially after that scene you put on tonight."

"You saw that?" She couldn't help but ask, the corners of her lips already lifting just at the thought of the man watching her enjoy herself with another man.

"It was hard to miss. You been taking lessons all week?"

"No. Just practicing on my own. Why? Did it look good?"

"I wouldn't say good, but it wasn't horrible."

That was a lie. Sure the woman lacked experience and technique, but the performance she had put on just minutes ago was captivating. It was as if he had witnessed a painting jump off of a canvas right onto the dance floor. The woman had morphed from a caterpillar into a butterfly in just a matter of minutes. And it was beautiful. It was breathtaking. It was downright enchanting. He knew that he would be replaying the scene in his head over and over for the next month, desperately clinging onto the memory for as long as his mind would allow him.

"You like dancing." He stated after a moment of reflection.

"What gave you that idea?" The woman couldn't help but snicker.

"Then let me teach you properly. Before you embarrass yourself again."

They both knew she hadn't embarrassed herself, but she went along with it. She agreed to let him teach her. It was something most around the resort paid hundreds for and he was offering to give it to her for free. A part of her wondered if her dancing had been that bad. Another part of her thought maybe the man was just as mesmerized by her as she was him. That thrilled her right to her core.

The next Thursday, he had asked her to meet him near a bridge on the west end of the resort. It was an area that was mostly empty. Long ago it had been full of life, but after budget cuts, it had become a forgotten beauty. Vines and weeds reclaimed their land, climbing the walls of vintage cabins. The bridge was located on a hiking trail just behind those cabins. It was nerve-wracking to meet a man in the middle of the night in a deserted location, but the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest only made her want it more.

She didn't regret it. As soon as she arrived she knew she had made the right choice. To get to see the man underneath the moon's glow with the sound of running water playing in the background and fireflies twinkling in the dark of the night - it was something that all of the world's money couldn't buy. The smile he had given her when she arrived was an added bonus. She hated the way he had bit down on his plump lips in a lame attempt to hide it.

"You're not afraid?" He called out to her as she balanced on the edge of the bridge. She was. Still, she shook her head.

"Come up here with me." She invited him.

"The idea was to teach you how to balance. I already know how to balance." He told her. It wasn't entirely a lie. He had instructed her to climb onto the arm of the bridge to help teach her balance.

"Right. Then don't you think you should do a demonstration?" That was enough to get him to climb onto the side of the bridge. A challenge was a challenge and he was not a man who backed down easily.

He commanded the woman to copy his movements. She watched closely as he lifted a foot from the wood beneath his soles before she slowly duplicated the action. He quirked a brow when the woman didn't wobble. So, he pushed it one step further and lifted the leg out to the side. The woman copied the move and this time she began to shake.

"Focus. Deep breaths. Keep your mind and body connected as one." He encouraged her lowly, watching as the woman fought to stay standing. She listened. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. The shakiness in her stance dwindled a considerable amount. The man switched his feet, using his left to stand now. The woman went to switch hers as he had, but this time she began to wobble to the point that they were both sure she was going over the side.

The man moved quickly, reaching out and pulling the woman against him with his feet planted firmly against the bridge. He could feel her frantic breaths hit the exposed skin of his neck. Her fingers trembled even as they dug into his biceps.

"Are you okay?" He whispered against her hair. She slowly pulled back, just enough to meet his panicked eyes. There was no doubt the same panic was swimming in hers.

Despite the fear that had her bones rattling and her heart racing, a delighted smile formed upon her face. This was the adventure she had craved so desperately. As the sound of the running water below filled the silence between the pair, the woman took a few slow steps back.

"Again." She demanded in a determined voice.

The pair didn't see each other for another two days. Ethelyn had been attending a dinner with her parents. They had invited Mr. Kim - who looked out of place the entire time despite his elegant appearance. He looked the part. He sort of sounded the part. But Ethelyn could tell he wanted to be anywhere but in the dining hall.

So, she helped him escape out of the building into the night. It wasn't as if she wanted to spend another second surrounded by those addicted to an artificial lifestyle. Mr. Kim kept a hand resting against the middle of her back as they traveled down an empty path. They took in the sounds of summer, basking in the warmth of the night and embracing the cool breeze that washed over them as they walked.

"Where are we going?" The woman couldn't help but as when they had ventured far enough away from the dining hall. The man glanced at her, his features contouring into an expression of nervousness. She could have never imagined the man was capable of being anything but one hundred percent confident.

"What about a bar?" He offered.

That was enough for the woman. It was a sight to see - Mr. Kim in a bar. His broad shoulders were stiff as the residents visiting the bar drank and smoke freely around him. His presence garnered a few inquisitive stares, but it was the woman dolled up to perfect by his side that people were interested in.

Both of them were aware of this uninvited attention. For a moment they both contemplated asking the other to leave. Then, the doors of the bar flew open and a crowd of familiar faces flooded inside the building. They were loud, some without a doubt already drunk. The piano that had been playing seemed to vanish entirely as the new guests poured in. A nasty scowl formed upon Mr. Kim's face.

"Here they come. Parasites." He mumbled to the woman next to him before he took a drink from his glass. Her heart pounded in her chest as the sound of music began to pump through the air. All it took was a few seconds before her hips ached to move. She asked the bartender for a cigarette when he finally found the pair again. He handed it to her without hesitation, stumbling slightly at the sight of her red lips curling appreciatively.

"You smoke?" Mr. Kim questioned with surprise in his voice as he watched the woman wrap those very lips around the bud of the cigarette. She quirked a brow as she lit the other end of the stick.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." She told him a few seconds later just after she released her first puff of smoke.

"Does your father know about this?" He wondered.

"Why do you ask?"

Before the man could respond, a Spanish-speaking man walked up behind the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. She greeted him with a welcoming grin, her tongue speaking words that Mr. Kim couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Who is he?" The man couldn't help but ask.

"A friend of mine." She told him without shame. Perhaps that was a mistake. Mr. Kim gave her a brief expression of disgust. Perhaps of horror.

"I thought you were-"

"Ethelyn Richards, the daughter of two of this resort's most successful attendees and donors who just happens to be just like you?" The woman cut him off. "You should know, Mr. Kim, that I don't plan on being like the families we were raised in. Doesn't it get boring living a life confined to a box of expectations?"

The man paused. It was something he had thought before, but he would never dare step out of line with the risk of ruining his family name. Yet, something about the way the woman was looking at him in that moment made him stop and consider it for just a moment. The next thing he knew, he was on his feet with the woman pressed dangerous close against him. The blazer on his shoulders was unbuttoned. The tie around his neck was completely loosened, both ends wrapped in the woman's fists as she peered up at him with lidded eyes.

It was at this moment he reconsidered his entire life. Maybe it was the smoke in the room making his mind hazy or maybe it was just the allure of the woman pressed against him. Either way, he found it hard to keep his heartbeat under control. His breathing became heavy as the song continued. A light layer of sweat on his skin. For a second, he felt alive. Then as the song began to die the disgust settled in. He jerked away from the woman like she had physically wounded him. She watched as he hurriedly began to button his blazer once more.

"Mr. Kim-" she started when she realized he was avoiding looking up at her. The man turned on his heels, ignoring her entirely. She followed after him as he rushed back out into the night air.

"Go away." He called over his shoulder, his feet picking up in pace.

"Can we just talk about this before you-"

"Go and tell your father?" The man suddenly turned around, coming to a complete stop. She froze at the frustration in his voice. His eyes were wide as he looked at her.

"If this is the life you want, then by all means live it! But I refuse to embarrass my family. For what? A night of fun? This is all temporary. You should think before you make reckless decisions like this, Ethelyn. What do you think your father would say if he saw you like this? Smoking cigarettes and pressed against men you're not even committed to?" The man huffed as he pointed at the building they had just left. With that, he turned on his heels and marched away. This time she let him leave.

His words hung over her like a raincloud. What if the man was right? Sure - she was having fun and finally living a life entirely different from the one she had always known but was it worth it? Was it worth going against her parents' wishes? What kind of example would she be setting for Penny by behaving this way? Her shoulders slumped as these thoughts clouded up her mind.

"You're not seriously considering his words, are you?" A voice came from behind her, breaking through the storm that had come close to engulfing her. She turned, only to find the one and only Jimin resting against the wall of the building.

"What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed here?" The man quirked a brow. "I came to enjoy my evening. Wasn't expecting to find you pressed up against the resort owner's son like that. It makes sense though. You and him."

"Don't be dense." The woman scoffed, her feet moving towards the man. "Mr. Kim is the last thing I need in my life right now."

"And in a couple years? Wouldn't you want that stability?" The man couldn't help but ask as he watched her find a place next to him against the wall. Her eyes scanned the dark landscape in front of them for a few seconds before they fluttered towards his face.

"I don't need a man for stability."

The man's lips curled at her words. "Is that right? Then for love?"

"Mr. Kim and I don't exactly equate to love and I cannot see how we ever would. His family, my family - they're all the same."

"If that's true what, makes you different?"

"Because I'm not afraid of who I am. I know who I am. I know who I can be. I know that I'm more than money."

"You know your worth and yet," the man began as he plucked an unlit cigarette from the woman's fingers. "You don't value yourself enough to quit these."

Her eyes found him and though his words were challenging, she could see no judgment shining back at her. All it took was that one simple sentence to remind her that she was still struggling to find herself. In the midst of separating herself from the identity everyone had created for her, she had placed a new identity on herself that she was desperately trying to keep up with. She was lost. Somewhere in the middle of where she wanted to be and where she needed to be.

"Goodnight, Park Jimin." She found herself saying suddenly, her feet moving to carry her away before she found herself being faced with more ugly truths.

"Ethelyn," the man called out as she walked away. "Don't let me like Seokjin tell you how to live your life. Men like him fail to see the power a woman like you holds. It terrifies them."

The woman paused, turning to look at the man with raised brows. "Is that right?"

"Would I ever say something that wasn't?" The man retorted. The woman wanted to laugh, but instead, she let her lips tug upward into an amused smirk.

"And do I terrify you?"

"Can't you see me trembling from there?" And as if to prove his point, the man held his hand out. It shook with an exaggeration that she knew he forced and the mischievous expression on his face only backed up this theory. Still, it made her heart skip a beat.

The next morning, Ethelyn sat next to her sister with her head resting in a palm. Her family was suspiciously silent. Ever so often she could see her parents exchanging glances before looking over at her with narrowed eyes. She assumed Mr. Kim had revealed the events of the night before. It was what she had expected.

"Ethelyn. Your father and I want to talk to you about something. It's come to our attention that-"

"Is this about Mr. Kim?" She interrupted her mother.

"Actually," the older woman glanced at her husband with surprise. "It is. His father contacted us. He wants to invite us to dinner."

"Why?" Penny asked before her sister could respond.

"It would appear that he wants our Ettie to become closer with his son. Isn't that exciting? These people could be a part of our family soon." Their father finally spoke, a wide grin on his face.

"I don't want to that. I don't want Mr. Kim. I don't want to marry for money, daddy," Ethelyn rushed out quickly. Her stomach twisted anxiously as she wondered just how far this could potentially go.

"Just go and give it a chance. You can at least do that for me, right?"

It was manipulative. She knew that. Yet, somehow she still found herself sitting in the main dining hall next to Mr. Kim while their fathers sat across from them. The rest of their families sat at tables next to them, chattering away as if it were completely normal for any of them to be in this sort of situation. It most likely was. That realization only made the woman's skin crawl more.

Then the worst came. Of all the people to serve them, Park Jimin waltzed right up to their table with a charming smile on his face. His eyes barely even inched towards the woman. She could only stare in horror at the discovery that he worked as a waiter in addition to his job as a dancer.

"If it isn't Park Jimin. Smith must be out today, huh? Guess we're stuck with the second-best." Seokjin's father gave a hearty laugh. His son laughed with him, which only prompted a laugh out of Ethelyn's father.

"Funny as ever. Isn't that right honey?" Mr. Richards spoke to his daughter, trying to hint that she should laugh as well. The hand resting in her lap curled into a fist, trapping the thing material of her dress between her fingers. How dare they laugh right in Jimin's face? And for what? For simply being there?

"Yes. So funny." Came her dry response. Her father shot her a subtle scowl, but it was clear the man next to him had no intentions of acknowledging her in general. This was something that only became more apparent as the night continued. Every time her father tried to bring her up, the subject was swiftly adverted back to Seokjin. When she spoke, her words were ignored as if they were never shared in the first place. And she didn't mind, honestly. What did it matter to her if some old snobbish man refused to address her properly? Was it annoying? Certainly. But beyond that, it was a relief. Because she knew that if she wasn't rememberable, then the chances of being pursued further were slim.

The line was drawn when the old man began to make snide remarks towards Jimin, who was doing his best to just get the job done. Even when he was tables over, the resort owner seemed to enjoy trying to get under the waiter's skin. And if he was successful, the waiter didn't show it. A composed, charming smile rested lazily on his face as he moved from table to table.

The line was crossed when the old man leaned towards her father and began to spread nasty rumors. "You know, he sleeps with half of the men's wives here. It's one of the only reasons I keep him around. If I got rid of him after all these years, the women would have my head! And then my pockets. You know how women are when they don't get their way."

Ethelyn stood from her seat abruptly at the man's words. Her nostrils flared as she stared down at the man with eyes of fire. Everyone's eyes fell upon her while a tense silence swept across the room. For the first time that night, the resort owner's eyes landed on the woman. He saw her now as she towered above him across the table.

"You are a vile, old man. The way you talk about other humans, especially women, is despicable. I don't give a damn how much money you possess - I have never in my life met a man more worthless. I hope you are judged in hell as harshly as you judge those here on earth." She spat down at the man viciously before she turned on her heels and crossed the room. The sound of horrified gasps accompanied by her heels clacking against the floor was the only noise that could be heard until she slipped through the exit.

She decided she wasn't going to return to the cabin that night. She knew that her parents would be waiting for her. Their yells and belittling words already circled through her mind, haunting her the entire way to the one place she wanted to be.

The dance floor was waiting for her with loving arms. She barely had a single thought as she glided through song to song. A new face here, a new drink there. It was enough to keep her from going insane. As she interacted with the other dancers, she was reminded that the world wasn't all that bad.

When the dancing became too much and the drinks turned into one too many, Taehyung helped guide the woman outside. He gave her water, helped light her cigarette and let her borrow the jacket from his shoulders as they sat together on the steps. She listened as he conversed with the man who had joined them earlier, sobering up more with each passing second. They didn't know about what she had done earlier. They barely knew a thing about her at all. That brought her a tranquility she had only experienced a few times before in life.

She was half asleep when the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled her ears. She ignored the sound, opting to keep her eyes closed as she leaned her head against the railing of the stairs. Taehyung and his friend would take care of it if it was something important. Then, she heard his scoff of disbelief. It was a sound that plagued her mind even in her dreams. Her eyes snapped open, peering out into the dark until they found his eyes staring up at her.

"You cause that kind of commotion and run here to hide?" He asked her.

"What are you talking about? What kind of commotion?" Taehyung asked, turning to look at the woman in confusion.

"How drunk is she?" Jimin ignored the man's question.

"Shouldn't be that bad now. We've tried to fix it as much as we could."

Whether the man was satisfied with the answer or not was unknown. Regardless, he took a few steps forward until he stood between Taehyung and his friend. He looked up at the tired woman and gestured for her to stand up. As if under a spell, she stood almost immediately. Both of them were aware of the way she stumbled as she climbed up the last few remaining steps.

"Climb on my back." The man instructed her after she almost tripped over a tree root after just a few more minutes of walking. She complied, her arms slipping around the man's neck with ease as she wrapped her legs loosely around his waist.

Eventually, they made it to their destination: Jimin's cabin. He carried the woman inside before kicking his door shut and crossing the room until he sat on the bed. The woman clung to his back even after she had touched the mattress, far too attached to the warmth that radiated from his body to give it up. If he cared, he didn't protest. He simply leaned down to unlace his shoes before kicking them off.

"Are you asleep?" He called out gently when he didn't feel the woman move any. Her head was pressed into his back, her arms snuggly laced around his waist while her feet sat in his lap. She hummed in acknowledgment of his question but didn't speak.

"Why did you do that earlier?" He asked her, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Are you upset with me?" She replied slowly, moving her head so that her cheek pressed against his back.

"I should be. I'm surprised the entire wait staff wasn't fired on the spot just for spite after what you said to that old man." The man told her, giving an amused chuckle. It wasn't funny. It was something he had feared immensely after the woman had left everyone sitting in silence. Though now that he recalled the moment, he couldn't help but find it humorous.

"What did my dad say to him when I left?" She wondered aloud.

"Apologized to the old man. Told him he didn't know what had gotten into you. 'My Ettie isn't usually like that!' He kept telling him. I've never seen a group of people more frantic than I did tonight."

The woman was saddened by the thought of upsetting her father, but she couldn't contain the giggles that poured out of her at Jimin's horrible impression of the man. Jimin smiled as he felt the woman shake with laughter against him. He slowly turned, forcing the woman's hold on him to slacken. When his eyes found hers he could tell she was exhausted. The makeup on her face was smudged, her eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep.

"Hang on." The man mumbled as he climbed out of bed, fully removing himself from the woman as he went. He returned in a few minutes with a damp rag in his hands and pajamas on his body. The woman was still awake when he climbed back in between her legs. She gave a faint smile as he tucked his legs beneath each other, sitting just at the edge of the bed. Her smile faded as the man pressed the wet rag against the skin of her face. His eyes were softened as he focused on removing the paint from her face.

"I wanted to dance with you." She confessed in a low, drunken whisper. He could smell the alcohol on her breath all too well from their sitting positions, but it didn't bother him a bit. He hummed at her words, the corners of his lips fighting not to twist up.

"Who did you dance with?" He asked her.

"I don't know. They weren't you."

His heartbeat quickened as the woman's eyes closed, letting him have access to her eyelids. He was quiet as he removed the different hues of purple and pink from the skin there. When he finished, he lowered the rag from her face and admired her resting face. He dropped the over the edge of the bed and moved so that his thumbs swept across her closed eyes.

"Are you going to sleep here? Or do you want me to walk you back?" He asked her quietly as his thumbs moved down to run across her bottom lip. Then he lifted the corners of her lips so that a faux smile rested on her face. Her eyes opened, taking in the amused expression on her face.

Instead of answering, the woman threw herself back against the mattress. The man gave a surprised laugh as she lifted her feet and rested them on his shoulders.

"You don't plan on using me as a footrest do you?" The woman simply gave a hum in response. The man grabbed her ankles and playfully threw her feet to the side.

"C'mon. Let me have some room to sleep at least."

The woman twisted her body until she laid vertically on the bed, or at least until she thought she was vertical. The man rolled his eyes at the sight of her body still laid across half the bed but laid down next to her despite this. He pushed her feet out of the way gently while trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. His heart was already racing, but when the woman rolled over and rested her head against his shoulder he thought it would leap out of his chest. It was at this moment that he realized he was in far deeper than he ever intended. That even if he did lose everything he had, it wouldn't matter anymore. He would give up everything if it meant even just a chance of getting to be near the woman like this again.

When morning came he wasn't surprised to find the woman was already missing from his bed, but to say he was disappointed would have been an understatement. He rubbed a hand over his face frustratedly as he tried to think of where she would have gone so early. How had she even managed to wake up before him after all that drinking she had done?

On the other side of the resort, she sat in the swing chair attached to the porch of her family's cabin. She had arrived an hour ago. After taking a quick shower, she found her sister sitting up in bed waiting for her.

"You've done it now, Ethelyn." The younger woman warned.

"How bad?"

"Worse than when Uncle Johnny was arrested back in '79."

"Oh God."

She had tried, after that warning, to avoid her parents. Though she quickly discovered that there was no need to hide from them. Even with them standing inches away, they ignored her as if she were not there at all. Their eyes avoided her. Their conversations growing louder when she tried to speak. It was childish, frustrating, and, deep down, hurtful. For a moment she had considered apologizing for her behavior. Then she assured herself she had done nothing wrong. If her parents wanted to punish her for standing up to someone like that old man then that was their personal choice - one that she couldn't agree with and most certainly wouldn't put herself at blame for.

Another week passed. Ethelyn didn't see much of Jimin - or anyone for that matter. Penny had taken it upon herself to try and keep her older sister distracted from the entire situation because, for once in her life, she sympathized with the woman. And of course, Penny's distraction consisted of riding into town to shop the week away. If anything can fix a broken heart it's shopping, the younger sister had insisted with a brilliant smile on her face. Ethelyn didn't have a broken heart, but she didn't tell her sister this. Instead, she had returned the smile and insisted on driving for the week.

It felt nice to be around one another without a constant competition taking place. Finally, they could speak to one another as normal sisters would. At the end of the week, it almost hurt to think that maybe it was just a one-time thing. Ethelyn adored her younger sibling. Even more so after seeing her try so desperately to help guide her through a rough situation.

It took a whole week to satisfy the younger sibling's shopping habits. A whole week of buying useless items in hopes of forgetting the tense dinners and disappointed scowls at breakfast. It had helped at first, but as the week continued on it was apparent the situation wasn't going to disappear any time soon. Ethelyn eventually had enough. The hope of her parents moving on faded away, leading her to decide to stop eating with them entirely. She decided that night to just go back to the cabin on her own.

"Hey, Ethelyn!" A voice called out from behind as she walked towards her cabin. She paused, turning just enough to see a familiar face walking towards her. There was Taehyung with a box of food resting in his arms. A wide smile stretched across his face as he approached the woman.

"Do you need help?" She offered. He quickly shook his head as he readjusted the box in his arms. The woman joined him, opting to walk with the man instead of sticking to her path.

"Where are you heading?" He asked.

"To my cabin. Where are you going?"

"You know. Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. Have you stopped dancing?"

The woman drew in a breath at the question. Dancing. She missed it so much. The week had been so exhausting that she hadn't gotten the chance to dance. "I've just been busy."

"Right. The family situation, yeah? Heard some people talking about that the other day." The man nodded in understanding, his eyes holding a hint of concern as they landed upon her frowning expression.

"People are talking about that?" She asked in disbelief.

"The wait staff love it. Say they haven't seen so much excitement in a while." The man explained. "And it's not every day that one of the richest attendees speak against the resort owner. That took some guts, you know. People are impressed."

"Yeah, well, the old bastard shouldn't try to ruin people's lives. Or patronize his staff right in front of guests. What a coward." The woman spat with bitterness resting on her tongue.

The man next to her gave a small chuckle. "It upset you to see him go after Jimin that much, huh?"

"What?" The woman looked at him with wide eyes. "I mean - of course, but I would have said that no matter who the wait staff had been that evening."

"Right. But it wouldn't haven't been as impassioned then, would it?"

The woman hated the smug expression on his face. It was as if he thought he had gotten her just where he wanted her. A corner she couldn't escape from. Worst of all, she hated the way her heart had started beating wildly because deep down she knew his words were true.

"He misses you." The man randomly shared with the woman as she tried to sort through her thoughts. She felt her face begin to warm at the meaning behind his words.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Haven't seen him look so lost in a while. Why don't you come with me up the hill?"

So, she did. It didn't take long for the pair to make it to the building. When they stepped inside, the woman's lips began to curl at the sound of the music blaring down the hall. A familiar excitement shot through her at the sight of the dancers. She followed Taehyung over by the table, just as she had the first night she had met him. It didn't take long for his friend to join them. His name was Jungkook - something she had learned a little bit ago. Like Jimin, he was also a popular dancer at the resort.

When he noticed the woman standing next to Taehyung, he sent her a shy smile and waved his hand in greeting. She returned the gesture. After a few minutes of talking, the man asked if she would like to dance with him. Without hesitation, she said yes. It had been a whole week without dancing.

It didn't take long for the two of them to find a rhythm within each other. The shyness the man had possessed minutes earlier had vanished completely. She felt almost small underneath his stare as their bodies moved together, sweat already starting to coat both of them. A surprised laugh escaped the woman as the man started guiding her into moves she hadn't tried yet. Some she hadn't even seen. She fumbled for a bit, but with some coaching from the man, she began to get the hang of it. After that, the pair starting receiving attention from the other dancers. It got to a point where it felt as if everyone's eyes were burning into their skin. Jungkook had feared the woman getting stage freight from the attention, but he was surprised to find it gave the woman a boost. Her body moved with newfound confidence, moving against him effortlessly.

Then, the song ended. The attention receded and everyone returned to their attention to their own business. Yet there was still a feeling of being watched as the woman wrapped her arms around the shoulders of Jungkook. Her eyes searched behind the man for onlookers. When her dancing partner noticed, he leaned forward until his lips lingered an inch away from the shell of her ear.

"You can feel someone staring, right?" He asked. "Just be glad you can't see his glare."

"Who? Taehyung? He isn't upset that I stole his dancing partner, is he?" The woman asked quickly. The man laughed at this.

"Not Taehyung. Jimin."

Just a name. Just his name. That was all it took for goosebumps to form upon her skin. The heat of his stare had been intense enough, but knowing the man was glowering from across the room set a fire inside of the woman that she feared she wouldn't be able to extinguish. The thought of being watched by the man was intimidating, yet there was still an excitement that threatened to consume her.

"He's coming this way." The man warned against the shell of her ear. She tried to conceal her feelings in that moment. She could only hope that Jungkook couldn't feel her trembling with anticipation. It had been a week since she had seen Jimin. Since she had been in his bed. Since she had left without even a thank you. And he had still missed her, according to Taehyung. She had to bite down on her bottom lip to hide the grin that threatened to stretch across her face.

Jungkook subtly twisted them just so that she could see the man coming from the other side of the room. Now she could see the glare he had mentioned. Jimin's eyes found hers as he approached. For a brief second, the scowl on his face softened. But then it returned. She drew in a breath as he grew closer. Their eyes remained locked until he was practically right next to her. She waited for him to speak to her, but was shocked to see the man turn and begin talking to another woman. The woman had been dancing with another man, but when Jimin asked her to dance she had abandoned the other man without hesitation.

Ethelyn could only watch in horror as the man brought the woman closer to him, his hands coming to rest on her hips as if they had been there several times before. The man, feeling her stare, allowed his eyes to find hers once again. She watched as his lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he took in her surprised face. Then she realized it was a game he wanted to play. He was challenging her.

"Are you guys always like this?" Jungkook asked her as he tried not to laugh at the exchange. The woman turned and looked at her partner once more. She had forgotten he was even there, despite his hands being pressed against her hips and the warmth of his body covering her like a thick blanket.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." She quickly told him.

"You didn't. Taehyung put me up to this anyways. Both of us are rooting for you guys." The man confessed with a toothy grin.

"Ah, of course, this is Taehyung's doing." The woman gave a small laugh, smiling as she lowered her head with embarrassment. "What's the plan here then?"

"I didn't have one. But if I were to offer one I would suggest the two of us sneaking out of here because I can almost guarantee you that he would follow us." Jungkook thought aloud. The woman quirked a brow.

"What makes you so sure? What if he gets the wrong idea and doesn't follow?"

"Trust me."

So, she did. She allowed the man to wrap his large hand around her wrist and guide her through the crowd of dancers. The urge to look back and see if the man was following was hard to fight, but somehow she managed to let Jungkook pull her out of the building before she gave up their gameplay. When they were outside, Jungkook wished the woman luck before shooting her a playful smile and slipping around the other side of the building. Her back pressed into the bricks behind her as she waited nervously for the door to swing back open. Hopefully, the man would come out before Jungkook slipped back inside through the back door as he had planned.

She had anticipated a long wait. Everything in her mind told her that the man wouldn't rush after them. So, when the door swung open and the man emerged she almost thought her eyes were lying to her. He found her almost immediately, his eyes wide and chest rising and falling quickly. This time she was the one who sent him a smirk.

"Where are you off to in such a rush?" She couldn't help but taunt. The man gave an astonished laugh as he looked toward the ground while shaking his head.

"Ahh such a vixen," he breathed out. He looked back up at her with an adoring smile. The game had been won and he wasn't upset to be on the losing end this time. "Do you want to take a ride with me?"

That was how she ended up in the passenger seat of Jimin's car. A milkshake rested in her hand, the only evidence that they had stopped for a small snack before riding out to an empty field by a lake. She had no idea where they were, but she trusted Jimin. Her heart fluttered as she glanced over at the man behind the wheel.

"What are we doing here?" She couldn't help but ask.

The man turned to her with a smile. "Didn't you say you wanted to dance with me?"

That was all he said before he popped his door open and slipped out into the night air. The woman was baffled as she scrambled to follow after him. Despite the summer season approaching an end, it was still warm out. Or maybe that was just the heat of her body.

"I was drunk when I said that, you know?" She called out as she walked over to stand next to him. He glanced away from the lake to take a look at the shy expression on her face.

"So you don't want to dance with me? What a shame. I was looking forward to it all week, but you've been ignoring me." The man began to talk in a pout.

"I was not ignoring you!" She protested immediately.

"Hmm? Then what would you call not coming to find someone for a week straight?"

"Hey! You didn't come visit me either."

"What? You want me to come knocking on your dad's door and risk losing my job?"

The woman paused at his words. She had forgotten that they were from two different worlds. She released a sigh as her head lowered. Why did everything always have to come back to money? To her family? The man released a sigh of his own as he watched the woman react to his words. He lifted a hand and sat it on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up." He apologized lowly.

The woman lifted her head at the apology. "Do you view me as the same as my family? Another selfish snob with too much money to think properly?"

"No." The man answered quickly without hesitation. "I don't see you the same as I see anyone else. Rich or poor."

The woman looked at him with flushed cheeks. Suddenly all the words on the tip of her tongue vanished and she was left speechless. Slowly, she rounded the man until she stood in front of him. He stared down at her with curious eyes, following her hand as it lifted and came to rest on the side of his face.

"Ethelyn-"

"Dance with me."

That was enough for the man to pull the woman closer to him. Their labored breaths mixed in the summer air as they stared at one another, finding a rhythm even in the silence of the night. When they danced with everyone else surrounding them it had felt like a show. A performance. Now, as they danced in complete isolation, it felt overwhelmingly intimate. It was a shift in their dynamic that both of them knew they couldn't return from.

Ethelyn took in the man's features as she tried to keep up with his movements. It was hard to focus with his eyes locked with hers. With such proximity, she could see every emotion swimming within his dark pools of mahogany. She tried so hard to not give in to temptation, but when the man's hand traveled up her body and rested against the crook of her neck it all became too much. Both of them were surprised when she leaned forward and placed her lips against his. He gave a slight hum in reaction but was quick to recuperate from the shock. Just like that, their dance was forgotten. A new type of dance had begun.

Her hands got lost in his hair. Her fingers tugged at his dark locks while her lips moved against his. They continued like this until the man pulled away for air. He panted as he stared down at the woman with curled, swollen lips.

"Don't dance with anyone else." He pleaded quietly as he took in her features.

"What if I planned on taking your job as the resort's dance instructor?" She teased while pushing back the hair on his forehead.

"Then let me be your only customer. I'll pay you everything I have."

The woman drew in a breath at his words. Her eyes searched his for a sign that he was only messing with her. When she found none, she let her hands come to rest on the sides of his face again.

"I don't want money." She admitted. "I want you."

It was late into the night when they pulled back into the resort. The air was thick with anticipation of rain. Heavy clouds blocked out the moonlight, making it harder for them to see as they traveled across the damp grassy hills. Jimin held the woman's hand tightly in his as they traveled through the shadows of the night. They had almost made it to the large set of stairs leading to Jimin's cabin when they stumbled upon an all too familiar face.

"So it's true," their voice came. "My perfect, golden child of a sister is sleeping around with the resort's ballerina."

Both the woman and the man next to her froze at the sudden appearance of Penny. She stood with her arms crossed, a smug expression settled upon her facial features. Behind her stood a man that Ethelyn vaguely remembered from the dining hall.

"What are you doing out this late?" The older woman managed to find a voice a moment later. Jimin's hold on her hand loosened. He was sure she'd drop his touch right away from embarrassment. Instead, she wrapped her hand tighter around his and even took a step closer to his body in front of her.

"I could ask you the same," Penny replied with raised brows. "You know, if our dearest father found out about this... situation - well, it would be pretty would it? Are you willing to lose everything you have for some summer fun?"

Ethelyn frowned at the woman's words. "Then go tell him. Wake him up right now and tell him how horrible I am for wanting a life of my own. Go do it, Penny!"

"You think I'd do that to you?" The younger sibling gave a scoff. She gave one last eye roll before she turned to the man behind her and instructed him to follow her back to the family's cabin. Ethelyn released a shaky breath as she watched her sister vanish into the night.

"Are you okay?" Jimin asked her quietly. Despite the nervousness she felt, a smile formed on her face as she took in his concerned expression.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

When morning came, Ethelyn woke to a warmth radiating at her side. She moved her head just an inch and found Jimin sleeping peacefully with his head resting in the crook of her neck. His breathing was light, his plump lips parted just enough for the short breaths to escape. For a moment she tried to remember the last time she had ever seen anything so beautiful. The first time she had woken in Jimin's bed, she had rushed away before she could take in his sleeping figure. Now she regretted that deeply. Her fingers pushed the hair resting above his eyes to the side, revealing the man's forehead. The corners of her lips lifted at the sight. Then she jumped harshly at the sound of a harsh pounding coming from the cabin door. The wooden structure rattled violently. The sound was enough to wake Jimin up right away.

"Do you get visitors often?" The woman whispered out, her eyes wide with shock. The man shook his head as he pushed his way out of bed. On the other side of the cabin door came muffled shouts. Ethelyn could recognize the anger in the visitor's words. Her hands trembled as she moved to the floor, rushing to crawl under the bed enough to conceal her body. Jimin spared her one last nervous glance before he twisted the doorknob and swung the door open.

"Mr. Kim. Mr. Richards." Jimin greeted with a wide grin. "What can I help you with this morning?"

"Where's my daughter?" Came a fierce growl. Ethelyn's face fell at the sound and all she could do was close her eyes in defeat as she waited for the events to unfold.

"Penny? Last I saw her she was with Tony-"

"Don't play dumb with me. Tony told us all about seeing you with Ethelyn last night." The woman's father cut him off.

"If it's true, you will be fired. You know that?" Mr. Kim spoke for the first time. "You've pushed your luck with entertaining the ladies of this resort."

Ethelyn heard Jimin give a small laugh of disbelief. "What would Ethelyn Richards want from me, huh? I have no money. No college education. I am nothing. So why don't you go ask your son if he's seen her?"

"Why you-"

"He's got a point."

"What? Listen, Mr. Richards, I can assure you my son hasn't spoken to your daughter."

"How do you know that?"

There was a pause.

"Well, you see, your daughter is just not my son's type. He prefers a woman who isn't... as outspoken."

"So what? My daughter isn't good enough for your family? Because she has a brain?"

Ethelyn held her breath at the man's response. Finally, after what felt like forever, she was finally hearing her father speak normally.

"Mr. Kim, that's highly impolite. Ethelyn is a wonderful woman." Jimin pushed his luck, not able to hold his tongue much. The older man sent him a quick scowl.

"That's right. Apparently, this busboy has more sense than you do!" Ethelyn's father agreed.

"I'm sure he does find your daughter wonderful! I bet he knows all about her." Mr. Kim replied hastily.

There was another pause.

"No. I know my daughter. She wouldn't waste her time on this one. I'm going to question that other busboy of yours."

Ethelyn listened as heavy footsteps sounded across the floorboards of the cabin's porch. Another set of footsteps, much quicker than the first, followed behind. Jimin released a loud sigh as he shut the door. He waited for the woman to reveal herself again and when she didn't he took a few steps towards the bed before dropping down onto the floor. His eyes peered under the bed directly into hers.

"There's my little troublemaker," he breathed out lowly. She watched as his lips curled adoringly. Her heart fluttered at the sight. "Are you going to come out?"

The woman shook her head. The man nodded his head as if understanding. He rose back to his feet. For a moment the woman thought he was leaving her to her lonesome, but then he dropped to the floor on the other side of the bed and rolled underneath until his body touched hers.

"Then we will stay here together. They'll never get us here." He spoke softly. On his face was an expression that should've calmed her nerves, but as she looked into his and saw the fear swimming within them, she couldn't help but wonder how messy things would get.

That evening she somehow found her way back to her cabin. Penny was quick to announce it wasn't her that had told their father about the night before. And Ethelyn believed her. She knew her sister would never do that, no matter how tempting it may have been for her.

"So is it, you know, serious?" The younger sister questioned as they sat together in front of a vanity. Ethelyn watched as the younger woman applied makeup to the swells of her cheeks.

"The situation with dad?"

"The situation with the dancer."

"Oh," Ethelyn gave a small, nervous laugh. "Maybe. I don't know. I want it to be, but I don't want to be the reason he's fired."

Penny stared at her sister in silence for a few seconds before a knowing look formed on her face. "You like this one, huh?"

When they made it to dinner that evening, her parents were already sitting at their usual table with drinks in their hands. There was a cloud of tension looming over them for the first few minutes. Everyone sat in silence, unmoving and afraid of creating an explosive scene. And then her father leaned forward in his seat. Her eyes found his. The disappointment staring at her was almost too much to bear.

"Tell me right now. Are you involved with that dancing boy?" Came the sound of his voice. His tone was calm despite the tension in the air.

"And if I say yes? Are you going to get him fired? Ruin his life because the thought of me being with someone like him hurts your pride? Hurts our name?" The woman challenged from across the table.

"Ethelyn! Enough. Haven't we raised you to behave properly? I can barely recognize the woman you've become!" Her mother snapped.

"Honey. Let me handle this," her father held a hand up towards his wife. "I won't get the boy fired, but I don't want you seeing him anymore. He has nothing to offer you."

The woman opened her mouth the reply, but as if the man knew he was the main topic for the night, Park Jimin walked up to the table. Everyone fell silent as they looked up at the waiter. He quirked a brow at the stares but remained silent as he poured her father another glass.

"Yes. I am involved with him. I don't care if he's not rich or not educated. My heart has picked him. Haven't you taught me to always trust in myself?"

Just like that, the entire room fell silent. The woman wondered if they had been listening the entire time. Jimin's movements halted for a moment at the woman's words. He looked down at her determined expression and found his heartbeat quickening. Did he really mean that much to her? His breath caught in his throat when the woman's father looked up at him. For the first time, the man took a good look at his face. He finally saw the man as a person and not just a busboy.

"What is it you want Ethelyn? Why are you doing all this? You wouldn't put us through all of this just for a man. Do you want more money? To go to a better school?" Her father quickly changed his stance, turning to look at his daughter with pleading eyes. The woman looked at him with disbelief.

"You don't listen to a word I say." She snapped. "I already told you what I want. I want him."

"If I could-" Jimin started, finding himself in an awkward position.

"No." The father cut him off right away.

"Let him speak. Or can he not even do that?" Ethelyn protested.

"My God, this is the most dramatic dinner we've ever had," Penny grumbled in the midst of the chaos.

"Sir, I just want to let you know that-"

"Park Jimin!" A loud voice tore through the tense atmosphere as the dining hall door swung open. Everyone turned towards the direction of the sound. There stood Mr. Kim with his hands resting in fists by his sides.

"You're fired. Go pack your things. If you're not gone by tonight, I'll charge you rent for every night you stay in that damned cabin of yours."

That was all he said before he turned on his heels and exited the dining hall just as quick as he had entered. Everyone was shocked by the sudden announcement.

"Jimin-" Ethelyn called out.

"It's okay, Ethelyn. We knew it was coming." The man told her with a small, assuring smile as he started to remove the apron from around his waist.

"I'm sorry, sir. I hope we can talk later." The former busboy rushed out as he bowed towards Mr. Richards. Then he turned and started for the exit. Ethelyn rushed out of her seat ready to follow after the man.

"Ettie, if you go out that door then don't come back!" Her father called after her. She ignored him as she followed Jimin out into the warm evening air.

"Jimin!" She ran in an attempt to catch up. He paused, turning and waiting for the woman to find her way next to him.

"You're just going to leave like that? Let him win?" She breathed out in small pants.

"What can I do? People like him have complete power over people like me." He reminded her. "Don't worry. I already have another job lined up. I figured this would happen."

"What? Where?"

"An hour or so away from here. Taehyung's uncle has a farm."

"And you're going to give up dancing? You love dancing. You can't just abandon it."

The man hesitated as he looked down at the concerned woman. "The dancing I do here isn't rewarding anymore. Nobody cares about dancing here. Not anyone with money, anyways. Besides - I've found something that I enjoy more than dancing."

"Are you sick?" The woman couldn't help but ask. She raised a hand and pressed it against his forehead. He snickered as he reach up and took her hand off of his face.

"I can't promise it'll be this month, next month, or even a year, but I'm going to work hard, Ethelyn. I will find a way to make this work. Just don't give up on me." He began pleading suddenly, the amusement on his face gone in a second.

"Let me come with you." The woman said, taking him by surprise. His eyes widened.

"What?"

"I'll come to the farm with you. We can work together."

"Ethelyn, that's a big decision. So soon?"

"Then I'll wait a month or two. But I don't want to be apart for a long time. Jimin, I want this. I know it's early, but I promise it's true."

The was a moment of silence as they stared at one another with heavy hearts and minds running wild. The man let his fingers curl around hers before giving a good squeeze.

"Okay. To hell with it then. Let's try it and see what happens." He finally spoke again. Instantly, a grin stretched across the woman's face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Come to the farm with me. But-" the man paused dramatically, his face completely serious. "You're sleeping with the pigs."

"Pigs? Why?" The woman couldn't help but laugh.

"I can't handle the way you roll around like one while you're asleep."

“Please pick up.” You whisper, face crumpling at your lack of luck. Taehyung had always been so quick to answer you, but the flashing red of your nightstand alarm clock is reminding you of what time it actually is: 3:00 AM.

“This is Kim Taehyung, sorry I couldn’t get to the phone—“

He’s probably sleeping, yet you ignore this possibility and attempt to reach him one more time, cutting off the last call and immediately pressing the call button again.

What if you’re actually dead? What if this is your life flashing before your eyes? What if—

A tired voice croaks across the line after just a few more rings. “Hello?”

“Taehyung?” You say, panicked and voice shaking— which is very obvious since his once tired voice is suddenly wide awake when he responds.

“Y/n?” You can hear rustling of his sheets, probably from him sitting up in alarm. “What’s going on, love?”

You don’t even register his slip, voice hiccuping from the sobs that are currently racking your throat. If it weren’t for your complete lack of brain power right now, you would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of you. But how could you possibly not cry after a dream like that?

“Where- Where are you?” You question, clinging to your comforter as another round of sobs are released from your constricted throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I'm here.” His voice gently whispers, rustling continues and suddenly you can hear his muffled footsteps over the line. “It’s okay, talk to me.. what’s going on?”

You blubber a bit, unable to form coherent words, but another hush from Taehyung and an “it’s okay” helps you to get your words out.

“I had a- a dream. It was a plane crash, Tae.” You cry, breath slowing down ever so slightly. Your mind is still foggy, but you can feel your consciousness slowly coming back. “Where are you?”

There’s dead silence on the end, the previous rustling and footsteps coming to a halt. For a moment, you think you lost him.

“Taehyung?” You whisper, another sob threatening your voice.

“Y/n.” His tone is suddenly serious. “Stay right there. I’m on my way, okay? Just breathe, i’m coming.” You can hear a jingling of what's most likely his keys, and the door slamming shut. “I’m coming, stay there.”

“Okay.” You sniffle quietly, hearing the line cut off and you’re left in the silence of your room once more. Without Taehyung's voice to distract you, the heart that beats rapidly in your chest seems to heighten its speed. Why had he gotten so serious after you told him what your dream was?

….

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Light dances around the room, with no shadows to be seen as the sun reflects on the snow outside, brightening the space with a shining aura. Chairs and tables that decorate the room are brown like those in the academia cafe, and the empty spaces are littered with flourishing plants. You briefly remember the green building coming into view on the way here, Jimin waiting for you in front with a black coat wrapped tightly around him, a red tint to his cheeks and nose as he smiled at you handsomely.

Now, you're staring at the snow-white wall, the chill outside wholly forgotten as soon as Jimin heard the news about last night. Now, you were blazing hot with embarrassment and remembrance of Taehyung's lips on yours. You're dragging your finger along the rim of your wine glass, which is filled with water, completely spaced out. You're not drinking a lick of alcohol for the next few days (you can still remember the awful taste after chugging that beer), even though you wish you could drown away last night.

You can still feel the ghosting touch of his fingertips against your face, like a soft feather tickling your skin. You can still remember the way he tasted: the vague flavor of mint that seeped into your lips and made you crave for more. You can still remember the proximity of him being so close to you. So, so close. Breathing hitched as the distance seemed to get smaller and smaller. The thought of this causes a swarm of heat to travel to your stomach, heart fluttering in recollection of the moment he placed his hand on your hip, which still burns your skin even now beneath your brown woolen sweater.

It's not until Jimin snaps his fingers at you that the trance finally comes to an end, hurtling you back to reality. He's looking at you incredulously.

"Earth to Y/n?" Jimin sputters, dropping his fork onto his plate with a loud clack!

At the start of lunch you were quiet, not wanting to admit the foolishness you presented last night. Jimin had immediately asked you what your problem was… he knew you too well. But unfortunately for him, you hadn't given him any context whatsoever, leaving a desperate Jimin staring at you with a 'hurry up and tell me already' expression on his face. Moments ago, the only thing you could voice was, "Taehyung kissed me, and I ran."

That was it.

Jimin sighs, collecting himself with a breath before he leans across the table to repeat himself in a quieter tone. "You ran?"

You nod.

"Why did you run?"

You shrug.

"You don't know?"

You nod once more.

It's like Jimin is speaking to a brick wall and expecting a response. You've been all too quiet since last night, even after you arrived home. You didn't cry. You didn't overthink. You didn't even slam your head into the pillow and come up with twenty different scenarios which could have gone better. You just sat there on your bedroom floor like the heap of dirty laundry that stoops in the corner of your room waiting to be washed. You were expecting to be kicking your blanket up at the memory in embarrassment. Instead, you sat there with absolutely no expression before finally reaching the cold shell of your sheets and falling into a restless sleep.

"I just…" You begin, looking down when a low hum echoes from your wine glass, stemming from your finger running against its rim. "I didn't know what to do, Jimin. I've never kissed or been kissed before…."

You briefly remember the one time you got close to kissing someone. In the first grade, a boy named Sam helped you up after you fell off the monkey bars. He told you that the only way to repay him was by kissing him on the cheek.

You panicked and ran that day too.

"I guess I panicked." You mutter.

Jimin's features soften, kind eyes watching your ministrations on the wine glass. He obviously senses your discomfort, even if he doesn't say so out loud. Jimin easily reads people, which is something you've always been thankful for. He changes his demeanor to a comforting one when he utters the next question. "Have you talked to him since then?"

No. You haven't. It's been eating at you all night, to the point where you had hardly gotten two hours of sleep— which was probably the primary source of your lack of words and the bags that hang below your eyes. What are you supposed to say when you know you're in the wrong — what are you supposed to do when the one person you want to hold onto is the one person you had pushed away?

"No… I haven't." you finally shake your head, defeated.

Jimin breathes, sitting back slightly before sparing a glance at his food. He ignores it for the fifth time and lifts his focus back to you. That's another thing you love about having a friend like Jimin; he's always willing to listen and get invested in the conversation -- even to the point of forgetting to eat the food set before him, which sits helplessly on his plate.

"You definitely need to call him." He orders.

"What am I supposed to say?" You scoff, lowering the octave of your voice for effect. "Sorry for running away after you kissed me. I'm an idiot and a coward, and I don't know how to handle romantic things!"

"I mean… you could say that." Jimin monotonously responds, twisting pasta around his fork.

You look unamused. This doesn't go unnoticed by the now grinning Jimin sitting across from you. He continues, "What did the two of you talk about before he kissed you?"

For a moment, you hesitate. Does Jimin know about Taehyung's ex? Of course, it isn't your place to spill the truth. Then again, Taehyung probably wouldn't mind all that much, considering it's Jimin you're talking to.

Who cares? Taehyung probably already hates you anyway.

"He told me about his ex…." You reveal.

Jimin looks perturbed. "His ex?"

"Yeah," You take a breath, digging the fork tines into a piece of meat. "She passed away a little over a year ago. He was talking about her after I told him about my failed audition, attempting to inspire me to keep going."

"Wait… the video audition you sent in? Did it not go well?"

You don't respond, lifting the food to your mouth as you avoid Jimin's questioning stare. While you felt awful for abandoning Taehyung, a part of you seemed to forget about that haunting letter. You didn't want to talk about that right now… not after everything that happened. You already had one thing weighing on you, and if another weight was added, you might as well be crushed into smithereens.

Since when has your life become a stress hole?

Jimin seems to connect the dots on his own, huffing out a breath of annoyance before he reaches to take a sip of his water. "The casting directors are the ones who failed."

It's quiet for a moment as he drinks, shaking his head. You're thankful for his words, a spark of hope sinking its way into your heart. Maybe you weren't the problem in the audition situation… but you were definitely the problem in the Taehyung situation.

"Anyway, Taehyung was talking about how in love with her he was… I felt awful." You add, looking down at the lonely piece of meat in the middle of your plate. Much like how you felt last night. Alone and overheated. "He doesn't deserve to lose someone like that."

"I didn't even know he dated since he's been here," Jimin says, his expression confused, evident from his knitted eyebrows and pursed lips. "Why did he hide that from me?"

"I think he hid it from everyone." You attempt to ease Jimin's mind. You knew they were friends, but you didn't realize just how close they were. They must be, considering Jimin's punched-in-the-gut appearance at the notion of his friend not being open with him. "I shouldn't have told you, I'm sorry… that's not my place," you add.

Jimin waves your concern away, distracting himself with a noodle that nearly falls off his plate, reaching just in time to catch it. You still feel bad. You've been feeling bad for a lot of things lately, and it seems not to be letting up.

"Despite having an ex," Jimin continues, the light in his voice returning, "Taehyung talks about you all the time. Like to the point that it gets annoying." He smiles, placing his fork atop his plate to fully look at you. "Also, whenever we're in journalism class together, everything he writes and draws is you. Just the other day, he drew a stage. Another, he drew someone singing. He even drew a "BROADWAY" sign — it's all you."

But it's probably not you. You instantly remember the fact that his ex was a musical theatre performer too. You haven't even reached the point of actual performance in the city yet… so it must be that she is the muse of those drawings. For some reason, that fact makes your heart sink.

What if Taehyung only likes you because you remind him of his ex? What if you're a rebound after everything that happened? You can't blame him, especially after losing someone so special; it's natural to want that kind of person again so they can fill the hole that the other left behind. Still, it doesn't make you feel any better.

"His ex did theatre, too." You voice quietly.

Jimin doesn't respond right away, but he leans forward and attempts to meet your eye. "Okay. And? He still talks about you constantly. How talented you are, how kind you are, how much he misses you on days that he can't go to the cafe." Jimin laughs. "That man has got it bad."

That's when you remember Taehyung's comment about your talent on the rooftop.

He lets out a breath, gathering your hands tighter within his grasp. "Yes, but you're not like everyone. You're insanely talented."

You stare at him, not amused. "You've never heard me sing."

Taehyung seems to stop at this, inhaling quietly as if you've just unveiled a deep secret of his. You feel his finger twitch in nervousness before he speaks again. "Jimin showed me a video."

Stealing yourself as you lower your voice in question. "By the way, did you send Taehyung a video of me singing?"

Jimin pauses, confusion seeping into his features. "No, I didn't.. why?"

Oh. Now you're even more confused.

Why would Taehyung lie about hearing you sing? If he has heard you, how did he get a video in the first place, and why would he lie about getting it from Jimin?

With a mewl-like sob, you place your head in your hands, rubbing your temples slowly in an attempt to calm your brain down. What if Taehyung wants to believe you're talented so that you can take place of the girl he loved most? What if he's being delusional— blinded by what he thinks is love just because you remind him of her?

"I'm probably just a replacement for his ex." You whine quietly, yet loud enough for the statement to reach Jimin's ears.

Jimin looks at you with disbelief. "I never even knew he had an ex, Y/N. He was always too busy talking about you." Jimin shrugs. "Listen, I've known Taehyung for a long time. He would never use you like that; it's just not who he is. He's probably realized that he can find someone just as amazing, and he's accepted fate and moved on. It's okay for him to find someone new after losing someone he loved… he deserves to be happy." He points at you with his fork. "And so do you."

You ponder on his words for a moment, letting them sink into your aching bones, which have grown weaker over the course of just a few days. People can indeed move on after losing someone. It's okay to fall in love again after a fallout, you know that-- it's just that Taehyung has been hurting more than you could ever imagine, and all you've done is complain about yourself. He never talked over you. He never brought it up once. He never expressed how much he was hurting.

And you felt extremely guilty.

You haven't seen Taehyung for the past week, much to your disappointment. Absolute radio silence. To say it's eating at you is an understatement, but lord knows you don't have the guts to reach out after what you did. You had hoped that maybe he would reach out to you, but you can't really blame him for not contacting you, especially after you ran away from him in the dead of night after he kissed you.

You're an absolute idiot.

That kiss still repeats in your head, over and over again. Especially late at night when you fantasize about what you could've fixed that night; how you could have stayed with him and kissed him back, embraced this newfound sprout of feelings that continues to bloom in your stomach day by day. You could be with him right now, right at this second. You could be holding his hand and feeling his embrace that you miss so much.

Instead, you're met with an empty cafe staring back at you as you wipe down the bar counters, sticky with syrup that strayed from the coffee cups. Taehyung hasn't come into the cafe either, and you miss seeing him pop his dark head of hair through the door with a smile. You miss the way he leans his hands on the counter, a sideways smile painting his features when you tease him about health violations.

You missed his little late-night pop-bys, where he would help you clean up or wipe down tables despite not even working here. He would express how he just wanted you to get home at a decent time, ignoring your protestations and flinging a dry rag at you when you continued to pester him.

You miss the late-night conversations over cups of coffee…

"So, this is a…?"

"A cookie dough latte." You explained, two cups placed into each of your hands as Taehyung stared down at the coffee, which was topped with cookie pieces. A litter of brown specks across the whipped cream surface.

Taehyung had spent the last couple nights with you taste-testing the following "flavors of the month" and offering up any form of feedback he could, much to your amusement. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him that you have no say in what flavor gets chosen for that month, allowing him to offer up future ideas anyway and filing them into your brain… just in case. He had a keen mind for brainstorming.

He took a careful sip, licking his lips in savory before he glanced at you with a shocked expression. You had to hold yourself back from laughing at the expression he wore. You couldn't stop your heart from jumping at the sight of his slight smile.

"Good?" You questioned.

"Amazing." He responded.

You smiled, reaching over to the cookie topping shaker and sprinkling some more atop the whipped cream of Taehyung's cup. He gasped quietly, pausing for dramatic effect before raising a hand over his heart and looking at you in adoration. "You're too good to me." He teased.

Later in the night, Taehyung walked you home with another cookie dough latte in his hand (which you made sure was decaf, or else he was never getting to sleep that night). It was the moment when a man on the sidewalk nearly rammed into you, Taehyung gripping onto your hand and pulling you against his chest before you had the chance to collide with said man. His heart was beating rapidly as you stood there, not making an effort to leave his embrace just yet, despite the passerby apologizing and continuing on his way.

You enjoyed the feeling of his arm around you, holding you gently and carefully before asking if you were alright. You felt like you were in heaven for a moment... embracing the feeling as much as you could and stalling the inevitable parting. Once you finally slid slowly out of his embrace, you turned your head to thank him, a blush evident on your cheeks.

You remember the way the two of you never separated your hands the rest of the walk home, only breaking when you finally walked through the door of your apartment, leaving a smiling Taehyung behind.

You miss that smile.

You miss him.

You resume wiping down the counters littered with speckles of coffee splatters, cursing yourself for daydreaming about him for the hundredth time today. This was absolutely pathetic. If Taehyung wants to make up with you, he'll reach out, and everything will b-

Ding!

Your head shoots up, eyes finding a dark head of hair, brown coat, and a scarf that covers nearly the entirety of this man's face. The heart that beats within your chest has suddenly raised its pace, your hand clenching your rag as the man removes the scarf, unleashing his identity.

Is it Taehyung?

Your heart drops to the sewers (where rats are probably eating it) when you realize that it wasn't the man you were hoping it would be. You offer the stranger a small greeting, taking his order and sending him out with his hot coffee before it's finally time to lock up the cafe. That man is entirely unaware of the pain he brought into your already aching heart.

You guess you won't be seeing Taehyung today… again.

Before you exit the cafe, a small piece of text on the wall catches your attention.

"What we should fear the most is fearing what we shouldn't." - Craig D. Lounsbrough.

Later that night, you attempt to reach out to Taehyung. You want to at least apologize for everything... to make sure he knew that this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you being cowardly.

[To: taehyung] hey.. can we talk? |

[To: taehyung] hey.. ca|

[To: taehyung]

[To: taehyung] i just wanted to say sorry for running

away…|

[To: taehyung] i just wanted t|

[To: taehyung]

[To: taehyung] hey |

[To: taehyung]

You sigh, softly dropping your phone face down on the mattress beneath you. The gentle pitter-patter of the rain on your bedroom window is the only thing keeping your mind from running completely haywire, holding onto it by a string. You enjoyed the rainfall, always have— it has a calming aspect that you are grateful for.

You wish that this calming shower could give you some ideas on what to say to Taehyung… but no avail. The most it's helped you do is type and delete everything that you attempted to send, only resulting in a blank text box and an added weight on your heart. Is he overthinking too? Does he think that you hate him like you think he hates you? Or is he not thinking about anything regarding the situation? You don't know.

You wonder what he's doing right now, trying to think back to your last conversation with him… maybe he mentioned that he was going to be busy? Perhaps that's why he hasn't reached out? You know this isn't the truth. He wasn't reaching out because you probably made him feel like you didn't like him.

Which you're starting to realize, you do.

You really like him.

That's what makes his absence so much harder, and the fact that you denied your feelings and ran away that night only makes you feel worse.

You're pacing your living room in your giraffe slippers when you finally decide enough is enough, determined to distract yourself from everything that has happened the past couple of weeks, drowning your sorrows in a glass of wine and a bag of Doritos. Healthy. You plop down on your couch, resting your aching feet on the white coffee table as "In The Soop" plays in the background.

It's your favorite show; seven best friends who get lost in the middle of the woods and have to figure out how to survive until help comes around. You smile to yourself, embracing the fact that you're finally in your comforting element.

When you were younger, you used to venture out into the woods of your hometown, your old best friend glued to your heels as the trees rushed past you in your haste. You used to pretend to be lost, building a fort out of old sticks and tree branches so the two of you could "survive" out in the "wilderness," knowing full well that your house was only a mere mile away. When this TV show was released, it took you back full swing to your past, comforting you from everything this world might have thrown against you.

Now, everything was being thrown at you, so name a better time to watch it again.

It was working for a moment, taking the heavy ache of your heart away for a moment before your head sunk back into the couch, drowsiness overtaking you. Then in a few moments, you were fast asleep.

You're dreaming.

The woosh of trees are blurring past you as the vent in the car throws cool air on your face. You feel content, the speed of the vehicle and the soft rain falling against the windshield lulling you to a dreamy state. You take a moment to look at the song's name on the radio, which whispers all around you like a soft-spoken secret. "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron. You smile, soft and sweet, as a warm hand gently rubs atop your thigh with a feather-like touch.

You look to the side, met with Taehyung's side profile, his own hair being tousled by the air. He's wearing a small smile, rubbing against your skin so softly as he sings quietly along with the music, his voice hypnotizing and gentle, pulling you even further into complete bliss. You admire the way his head tilts when he looks at a highway sign, navigating his way through the busy roads at a pace that feels slower than the speed limit.

He doesn't want you to go just yet.

Your eyes fall back onto the horizon, seeing your exit up ahead as Taehyung sighs at the sight.

“Exit 7, Laguardia Airport.”

Suddenly, you're standing in front of the Security Check in the airport. People around you remove their loose items, placing their phones into gray bins as they're run through a scanner. There's a light feeling in your chest, excitement seeping into every crevice of your bones and forcing a large smile onto your lips. Every bit of this experience reminds you of your destination, causing your smile to widen even more.

"Don't look so excited to leave me." Taehyung teases, softly pinching your arm before he bends down to remove his shoes.

"I'm not excited for that part." You huff out a breath, removing your own slippers and placing them into one of the bins. Your phone, small carry on and your jewelry follows. Taehyung's items soon are placed beside yours, his hand grazing your arm before a gentle kiss is placed on your neck. You smile as you turn towards the metal detector.

"Tae, stop it." You laugh gently, removing his warm arms that have now snaked around your waist, your heart fluttering at the sensation.

"I won't be able to do this for a while… let me." He says solemnly, the smile on your face faltering slightly before he kisses you again and resumes his placement around you, dragging his hands against your skin. He breathes in, releasing a slow sigh beside your ear.

You love him.

Another time jump, and now you're standing in front of Gate 38; Taehyung's arms are still around you as you glance at the family sitting together across from you. The children are playing games on the floor as the parents speak tiredly amongst themselves, holding hands. You smile at the sight, appreciative of the little things that seem to keep falling before you today, making you even more thankful for everything you have. Taehyung kisses your head, nuzzling you sweetly as he whispers in your ear.

"No matter how much I'll miss you, I am so so excited." He says, the smile on his lips evident with the lilt in his voice. "You're going to do so well. I'm so proud of you."

You close your eyes, soaking in every piece of his voice while you still can. When he speaks, the low timbre gives you goosebumps, dragging you under his spell and making you curse the plane that is now pulling up to the gate. You were only going to be gone for a month, but it was strange... it was as if you were never coming back. Something was telling you to cling to him for a little while longer. To love him as much as you can. Do not let this moment go to waste.

"I love you." You say softly, almost inaudible, for the first time.

Taehyung pauses, silent and still. You wince, thinking that he might not have been ready to hear that statement, but he's hastily turning you around and staring at you with an unreadable emotion. In an instant, he leans forward quickly, his hand falling behind your neck as he drags you toward him for a kiss.

You're now standing in front of the gate; the line you're waiting in is beginning to board. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, thundering against your ribs like a wild storm in a quiet town. You can't believe this is happening. You can't believe you're about to achieve everything you've ever wanted.

The moment to scan your boarding pass comes all too quickly, causing you to turn towards Taehyung, his hands automatically finding your own when you look up at him.

"I'll see you in a month, okay?" You say quietly, offering him a teary smile.

He's smiling back at you, his own tears lining the bottom of his eyes as he leans in and meets your lips once again. His lips are soft and sweet, breath fresh like a thoroughly watered garden. He pulls back slightly, bumping his nose against yours affectionately. "I can't wait to hear about your success, Y/N… I'll be cheering from the front row." He pecks your lips once, twice. "Don't forget about me, or I might lose it."

You scoff, a laugh bubbling up and out of you. "How could I?"

He grins, kissing you one more time, longer and deeper.

"I love you." He whispers.

If you thought your heart was fluttering before, it's nothing compared to now. Now, you can feel every single beat of the butterflies wings that are enrapturing you and making you dread leaving even more. You feel his grasp loosen on you, turning you around and sending you in the opposite direction with a soft "go go go, you'll be late" leaving his lips. Like a promise to be waiting for your return.

It's when you nearly round the corner that he calls your name, drawing your gaze back to his. He's holding up finger hearts, an excited smile gracing his lips that you wish were back on yours. You'll see him soon, you know. But you can't help but feel like you might never taste him again.

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you continue walking, waving to him as his figure finally falls out of your range of sight. You continue down, feeling as if a part of you is already missing.

You awake slowly, the sound of In The Soop's title track playing softly on your tv speakers. You remember where you are, slowly realizing that it was all a dream, and now you're drowned in reality. It feels as if a deep hole has been dug into your heart, a part of you wanting to dive back into that dream and be with Taehyung again. It was so real…

But now, the harsh truth of never having that with Taehyung is more real than ever.

The last bit of your dream gave you deja vu, remembering the sound of him calling your name when you left him on the rooftop. Only during that time, it bothers you that you didn't turn back around. It would be best if you had turned around… maybe he would've smiled at you like he did in your dream. Maybe he would have held your hand and told you that he would wait for you.

Maybe you wouldn't feel so empty like you do now.

You see Taehyung the next day.

It's for a split second that you think you might be dreaming again, but the pinch to your arm proves to you that this is real. He's walking through the doors, his eyes downcast and his hands hidden inside a brown coat tucked snugly around him. You nearly lose your breath at the sight of him. Having not seen him for a few weeks, his appearance knocks your senses out of you until you can only stand there and stare.

He’s so… beautiful.

He looks up timidly, your eyes bulging as if he has the power of reading your mind. He’s walking farther into the cafe before his steps falter the second he meets your eyes. You must look surprised; you can feel your cheeks flushing and stomach twisting in tiny little deathly knots. Your eyes hold each other's gaze for a moment, and you're able to soak in those chocolate brown optics that you've missed so much.

To your dismay, he looks away quickly and lowers his gaze again with an unreadable expression before he picks up his pace and ascends towards the counter.

He's coming this way. You can feel his aura encompassing you as he takes steps towards you.

Before he reaches you, he turns, catching you off guard when he avoids your questioning stare and walks up to Jimin on the bar. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

He's avoiding you… and why wouldn't he? You want to stroll up to him and explain yourself, tell him that you were stupid and shouldn't have left-- but you can't move. You can't think straight.

"Jimin." He calls softly, catching Jimin's attention behind the counter. Taehyung looks tired-- as if he hasn't been sleeping. Bags hang beneath his eyes (much like your own), pulled down by a noticeable weight, and you can practically feel and see the wall he's putting between you. "Would you mind coming over after your shift to talk about the project? I need some feedback."

Jimin seems to take in his appearance at the same time you do, his eyebrows cinching in concern before he nods. "Of course I can." Jimin pauses, leaning forward a bit with a hushed tone. "Are you o-?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, I'll see you soon." He smiles a forced smile before turning, wandering back towards the doors without sparing you a second glance. You can't help but feel punched in the gut, your stomach twisting into those cursed tiny knots again. Only this time, it was out of sheer disappointment. Taehyung bounds out into the bustling city streets before disappearing into the crowd within a blink of an eye. Were you even seeing him correctly? Was he here at all? He was, but only for a mere moment… and you want him to come back.

Jimin turns to look at you, an apologetic expression on his face as he offers a slight shrug, resuming his process of making a latte. You can see him shaking his head as he bites his lower lip in thought. You wonder what he might be thinking right now. Maybe his thoughts would patch up the holes in your heart that seem to get bigger and bigger as the days go on. At this point, you don't have any more room in your brain to dissect Taehyung's quick visit just now. You just wish he would talk to you.

And you wish you could bring yourself to do the same.

It's nine o'clock in the evening, yet here you are, making cookies despite your early shift tomorrow morning at the cafe.

Coping mechanism.

Truth be told, you were more than willing to call out and have a day to yourself. You were always one to bask in your sadness. Eating and watching sad movies while crying into a bowl of ice cream? That sounded like a beautiful day off to you. Unbeautiful for you, you know that two people have already called out tomorrow; there was no way you were getting your shift covered. You needed the money anyway. And the distraction.

The warm smell of the cookies travels throughout your tiny apartment, which is decorated in dark browns, whites, and greens. The coziness of your apartment has always helped soothe you... maybe that's why you spent so much time at home, alone. You were going for a 'light academia' look when you first moved in, and thanks to Jimin's keen eye for interior design, you like to think it was successful. The tiny kitchen is decked out with dough, pans, and utensils -- dirtying your freshly cleaned counter that you spent time scrubbing just yesterday.

Cleaning. Another coping mechanism.

It isn't until you hear the chime of your laptop that you set the cookie dough bowl down, much to your stomach's dismay, since you've been sneaking bites of the raw cookie dough into it throughout your culinary extravaganza. You work your way to your small circular dining room table, plopping down in the wooden seat. The city view below sits quietly.

Email from: Film Out Theatre

Subject: Audition Opportunity.

What the hell?

Your heart staggers as you sit up straighter, breath hitched. We're you reading correctly?

Audition? Opportunity? You finally inhale, 1. because if you didn't, you'd probably end up passing out (breathing is kind of important), and 2. you did not want to get too excited… this could be just a scam. Even scammers were playing with you now. Typical.

From: [email protected]

To: officialY/NY/L/[email protected]

Date: November 20th, 2022

Subject: Audition Opportunity

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

My name is Hyun Do-yun, a director here at Film Out Theatre in London. We are currently casting for an upcoming West End production called "The Eternal" that opens in only six months. Due to casting issues, we are looking for a hardworking actress to take on the lead role.

The lead role… The lead role?! On West End?? Your eyes bulge, heart leaping up into your throat as you reread the letters on the screen with wide eyes. You feel dizzy. Maybe the cookie dough wasn't such a good idea at this time of night. It was already making you jittery, and now this was just fueling the fire.

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.

The night you truly got to know Taehyung seems to be replaying in your brain. You held on. This might finally be your yes. Without a second thought, your hands are hastily reaching for your phone to dial Taehyung's number.

He's not going to believe this!

It's the moment your thumb is hovering over the call button that you remember who Taehyung is to you now. He’s not the same boy who walked you home after game night. He was now a mere old friend that you turned down. A soft-spoken boy who you left on the rooftop in the middle of a cold winter night, alone. A person who probably does not want to speak to you.

You heave out a breath, placing your phone back down in disappointment in your reflexes. Why was everything about Taehyung these days? You look back at the email. The thought of Taehyung is not going to dampen your excitement. You won't let it. You've waited for this.

A good friend of ours who is currently opening a theatre in New York, named Kim Namjoon, reached out to us regarding you. They sent us a video of your talents, and we are pleased to inform you of our interest. We would like you to audition for the lead role of Olivia Daughny. I have attached a working copy of the script, along with the pages and sheet music I would like you to prepare for your audition.

The auditions will be online, so feel free to attach your video audition and we will consider you for in-person callbacks.

Due to the short notice, if you are unavailable to make it to the callbacks on December 16th here in London, we will have no choice but to look elsewhere. We hope you are able to visit during that time.

Please call me at 020-639-2747, or reply to this email if you are interested in auditioning for the role.

Thank you so much for your interest in working with the Film Out Theatre.

Regards,

Hyun Do-yun

Film Out Theatre Company Manager

[email protected]

020-639-2747

You can't breathe.

The bowl of cookie dough is long forgotten as you shoot up from your seat. A shrill shriek escapes your lips as you jump up and down, breathing restricted from your excitement — you wouldn't be surprised if your face is bright red like a tomato right now. You take a moment to recuperate, resting your hand on your chest before you sit back down and reread the email.

Is this actually happening?

Don't get ahead of yourself, Y/N... be professional.

Your fingers are shaking when you press reply.

Dear Hyun Do-yun,

Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. Thank you so much for contacting me and giving me such a wonderful opportunity! I will gladly send a video audition for the role and will be available for callbacks on December 16th if needed.

Thank you again!

With appreciation, Y/N Y/L/N.

The little girl who dreamed of being on the big stage is erupting inside of you, blowing bubbles and dancing within your stomach like you used to while alone in your room. You're trying to remind yourself that you haven't gotten the role yet. Do not get your hopes up. But this was the closest you've gotten to a rewarding audition since you moved here; how could you not be elated?

"A good friend of ours who is currently opening a theatre in New York, named Kim Namjoon, reached out in regards to you."

Kim Namjoon.

That was the man who's opening up Kim's Theatre. You vaguely remember his tall stature, collecting every bit of attention from the intrigued reporters who followed his every move. You remember Taehyung's eyes lit up when Namjoon uttered a catching phrase. You remember the smile on Taehyung's face when he heard something he enjoyed. You remember the concern spread across those same features when he saw you patiently waiting.

The child within you seems to be slowing down in remembrance of the person whose contact is still resting patiently on your phone screen. Finally able to sit in your seat, your hands reach for that same phone once more.

You want to text him.

Just text him!

But he's probably still really upset with you.

Don't text him!

You take a breath, opening up a new message.

[To: Jimin ☕️] guess who got an audition opportunity from a west end director ?????? for a west end show ????? for the lead ????? because they are interested in me ?????

With a warm smile present on your face again, you look at your email response and read it over, making sure you're not missing anything. Finally, you take a breath and move the mouse over the send button.

This is your moment.

This is what you've waited for.

Email Sent.

next chapter (coming soon)

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

next chapter (coming soon...)

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