in my solitude

“I’m like that one cousin your parents use as the good example.”

When asked about her achievements, Her Majesty tried to stay humble. Before she was even crowned as Zafiro’s youngest leader, Queen YN has been bagging one award after the other with her excellence in working for her advocacy for children's welfare. She has been known to speak out and provide aid for children in need worldwide, going beyond the lands of Zafiro. 

“My parents, especially my mom, always encouraged me to do my best in everything, setting me up to be a good example not just for Astrid, but also to the young kids of Zafiro,” she smiled. “I swear, when I meet young people, it can lead to two things: one, they will express their admiration, citing me as an inspiration– which I am honored for. Or two, they will jokingly complain to me about how much their parents used me to pressure them to do better in school or in life generally.”

In 20XX, back when Her Majesty was still a princess, she graduated from the University of Zafiro with her second bachelor’s degree. She was only twenty years old at the time. When she posted about the event at the time, she included a joking caption, saying, “Off to get my third bachelor’s. See you in the next semester! #Classof20XX”. Netizens from Zafiro began trending #StopPrincessYN as a joke, citing their difficulties with being pressured by their parents whenever they are compared to the young royalty.

“It was truly hilarious,” Queen YN chuckled, shaking her head. “But that is just me. I love studying. I love learning new things. I didn’t mean to be the poster child for the perfect child– I know I’m not.”

I laughed at the Queen’s joke. “But didn’t you also learn how to ride big bikes?”

In her last year of being a princess, in the midst of her most buzzing year, Queen YN was staying in Los Angeles, California, when she was photographed driving a classic Harley-Davidson Cruiser. It caused surprise for everyone as she swapped her usual formal dresses for a large, black leather jacket and halter tops with bell-bottom jeans. It was one of the rare moments when the royalty was seen more carefree. Some people in the media even refer to that time of her life as “her year of rebellion”.

Queen YN lets out an awkward chuckle, “Ah, yes. After I had my first motorcycle ride when I was in my early 20s, I liked how it felt so free to drive around places with air blowing through my hair. So I asked a friend to teach me how to ride one.”

The said friend in her statement has been long-rumored to be the Sweet September’s main vocalist, Jungkook. They have been the subject of gossip and rumors during “her year of rebellion”. Although never confirmed, the then-Princess YN and the rockstar have been witnessed interacting both online and offline by many people a lot of times. They were never photographed together, just seen arriving and leaving the same places almost at the same time. The pair never commented about it.

“Do you still ride them?” I asked, out of curiosity.

A faint smile formed on her lips as she softly shook her head, “I don’t. I sold my bike back in LA before… I left everything behind there before moving back here.”

“Honey, attending such an event is not part of your itinerary…”

Your mom’s worried tone from your phone echoed in your New York hotel bathroom as you got ready for Sweet September’s concert tonight. After tying your hair in a half ponytail with your white silk ribbon, you tried to curl the ends of your hair with your fingers. 

It has been a day since Jungkook invited you to their concert tonight. Since it was not part of your agenda, you decided to ask Natasha to shop for your clothes since you can’t really go out due to virtual commitments. That’s how you ended up with bell-bottom jeans and a long-sleeved knitted red top. She also got you high-top Converse, a baseball cap, and a large leather jacket. She says that with this outfit, you will just mix in with the crowd perfectly. But you cannot help but see your younger sister in you with this much edgier outfit.

“I know, I know, Mom. But the band personally invited me,” you replied before looking at the camera to see your mom sipping from her morning tea. It’s only six o’clock in there while you’re out there going to a late-night, last-minute show. “They are great performers. Astrid and I enjoyed their concert when they went to Zafiro.”

Even though you are already a grown adult, with your own title and a long list of responsibilities, you still have to talk with your parents before doing something. And that’s what you are doing right now. You would usually go straight to your dad. He is strict, but your mom’s stricter. You tried talking to him initially, but he’s busy with meetings. So you reached out to The Queen to let her know about the concert.

She squinted her eyes, “A personal invite from the band? How so?”

You paused, “Oh… Uhm… I had a chat with their vocalist last night at the Gala. We already met before that.”

“And can I know the name of this vocalist we’re talking about?”

The image of Jungkook kissing your hand last night suddenly played in your head, unknowingly putting a slight smile on your face.

"Jungkook.”

Then, a noise from your mother’s background snapped you back into reality. A thin line formed on your lips as you waited for a reaction from your mother. But she just looked at you for a minute. Like she was examining you, you can feel her gaze on you even though she’s on the other side of the world.

“YN…” she called for you in a specific tone that made your shoulders tense up.

“Mom,” you sighed. “I’m not dating him. I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets personal invites from him.”

“That’s great to know, honey. I know you’re smart enough with your decisions, including who to date.” She paused for a moment, giving you that familiar look. “You know how we would always want the best partner for you, as you will be leading Zafiro in the future.”

Your jaw tightened as you tried to focus on running the mascara through your lashes. Your shoulders suddenly bore this hefty weight. The same weight you feel every time you put a crown on your head. You tried to ignore it, clearing your throat before you spoke,

“Anyway, Mom, I’ll keep my attendance lowkey. Okay?” You plumped your lips before smiling at her. “I promise, no one would even notice I was there.”

“Okay,” she smiled, causing you relief. “Nat’s coming with you?”

“Yes, I got two tickets. We’ll probably wear shades too just to avoid so many eyes,” you shared as the tension between you two boils down.

To hear her chuckle is a confirmation that your mother is now cool with you attending, “That’s great. But don’t wear it inside the arena, it’s weird.”

You laughed at that, “Yes, mom.”

“Okay,  I should go now. I have to attend this early event in your old prep school, and I still have to prepare,” she mumbled. “At least, enjoy tonight, okay? But don’t be reckless and miss your flight later!

“I won’t,” you smiled softly.

“Bye, baby,” she waves.

“Bye, mama.”

Silence lingers in your room as you stare at yourself in the mirror. It was your first time seeing yourself in such clothes and make-up. You followed your assistant’s advice to use a darker shade of red for your lips and darker eyeshadow for your lids. You cannot help but smile. It’s nice to see another version of yourself in clothes you rarely wear. You thought that wearing a more fitted, slightly cropped top and baggy jeans would make you feel uncomfortable, like you’re wearing someone else’s clothes. But it didn’t. It’s comfortable and liberating. It’s making you wonder that in another universe, where you are not a royal princess, just a normal girl in a normal suburb, is this how you’re going to look like? 

Usually, riding alone at the back of the car, you sit straight as your assistant sits in the front with your driver/bodyguard. Your posture never breaks while your eyes watch outside your tinted window, curious about the people who usually rub shoulders with each other in the bus or the train. You always wondered what it feels like to sit in a crowded bus. No low-key bodyguards behind you or movements to determine if it’s safe or not.

But tonight felt different.

Although you are still being driven to the arena for the concert, you feel less restricted. You leaned back in your seat, letting your leather jacket crinkle around your shoulders. There is this churning feeling in your stomach, knowing that you are going to see him tonight. You looked at your fingers, the ones he kissed gently last night. A smile spread across your lips.

Suddenly, you felt like rolling down your window, letting the cool air blow on your face. Natasha and James, your bodyguard, didn’t say anything as they watched you in the rearview mirror. Royalty protocol does not really allow you to ride in cars or any transportation with open windows. But tonight, they can keep it as a secret from the King and Queen. They are only a couple of years older than you, so they definitely understand you, even if you won’t admit anything out loud. You just opened your windows anyway. You didn’t stick your head out or something. Natasha quietly looked at James and simply smiled at him.

The wind was cold against your skin, but it was the kind of cold that made you feel alive. The city lights blurred as the car sped through the streets. You closed your eyes for a moment, breathing it in. The world felt alive, not so static compared to the places you would grace your presence in.

Just for that time, you felt like a normal, nameless young lady. You were not someone’s daughter, just a girl in the back of the car, with an unexpectedly cozy leather jacket, excited to attend a free concert,

“James, are you sure you don’t want to join us tonight?” you asked when you spotted the arena and the small groups of people walking towards it. You rolled the windows back up.

James chuckled, shaking his head in the rearview mirror. “I’d rather keep my job, Your Highness.”

Natasha grinned, looking back at you with a smirk. “He’s an old guy, hates rock music. But he’ll be outside, Your Highness.”

You chuckled at that. The car pulled up near a secret entrance, almost at the back of the arena, the one Jungkook instructed you to pull up in. Fans were already crowding over the main entrance. You catch Natasha’s eyes on you in the rearview mirror, you nod,

“Let’s go?”

“Enjoy, just let me know if anything happens,” James looked sternly at your assistant before softening his gaze to you. “Please, enjoy, your Royal Highness.”

You smiled softly, “Thank you, James.”

Natasha adjusted her jacket and stepped out first, scanning the empty area that led to the back entrance. You have yet to come out of the car. You looked at your phone, second-guessing whether you should message Jungkook in your secret account to let him know about your arrival. But he’s probably preparing for the show. So–

jungkook.97

hey :))

are u there?

tara will meet u outside for your passes

Your heart skipped as you got the notification. Suddenly, you see a familiar woman jogging out of the entrance. It’s their manager, Tara, holding the lanyards in her hands. She talks to your assistant as you slip out of the car, pulling the cap lower over your face.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she bowed. “It’s nice to see you again.”

You smiled before offering your hand for a shake, “It’s nice to see you again, and please, you can address me by my name. I think it would cause less trouble for all of us than the long title.”

Natasha and Tara both chuckled at that. For Tara, this isn’t the first time Jungkook made her run around before the show to give passes to his personal guests. But it was usually his family and friends– not a royal princess from another country. So even though Jungkook didn’t really specify why and how he got you to go here, she called up for extra tickets for you. 

Tara smiled politely, lowering her voice. “Of course, YN.” She handed over the lanyards, which you two immediately wore on your necks. “These passes should get you through the back corridors and backstage. I’ll guide you to your section and the guys will also meet you after the show.”

You nodded, fingers brushing over the words of ALL-ACCESS BACKSTAGE PASS on the laminated passes. “Thank you, Tara. I really appreciate this.”

She returned the smile, a knowing glint in her eye. “Jungkook said to make sure you get in safely.”

Something about hearing his name from someone else sent a flutter through your chest. You tried not to smile, but failed miserably. “He didn’t have to.”

Natasha raised a brow, speaking next to you. “He wanted to,”

You shot her a look, which she just replied to with a teasing smirk. Tara led the two of you down the quiet corridor, the hum of speakers and low rumble of instruments growing stronger the further you walked. The air smelled faintly unfamiliar of metal and floor polish. You had attended operas, galas, and orchestral recitals. But this… this was different. It was messy and loud, unlike the jazz concerts you went to.

Tara glanced over her shoulder. “This way, please.”

You followed, trying to quiet the racing of your pulse. You weren’t sure if it was because of the crowd’s energy bleeding through the walls, or because you were about to see him perform again. The first and last time you watched him and his band was months ago in your home country. You can still remember the buzzing feeling you got while watching him sing, sway his head, and basically get sweaty (and more attractive) on stage. It’s embarrassing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be in the standing pit? I can still pull some strings for you guys.” Tara asked as she led you and Nat to your seats.

You gently shook your head, “No, we’re fine here. It’s less crowded, I guess.”

Jungkook offered you the closest spots on the stage last night, but you kindly declined. Standing pits mean more people, which can also mean more recognition from people and less safety for you. Your parents would panic if you picked that spot. So, Jungkook got you the second most comfortable and best spots: the floor seats. 

“Okay then. Natasha has my number, so if you guys need anything, just contact me,” she smiles. “Also, after the show, you guys can meet me in the hallway we passed through, so you can meet the boys.”

Tara gave one last smile before disappearing backstage, leaving you and Natasha to settle into your seats. The arena was already humming with low chatter and rustling fabric, the crowd’s energy alive. Everyone is ready for the show to start. Astrid would have loved to be here tonight. Your little sister instantly expressed her little jealousy that you got to attend both the Met Gala and the concert tonight while she struggles with the flu back in Zafiro. You bring out your phone from your pocket, turn on the camera to take a quick 360-view of the venue, and send the short clip to your sister.

To Dee-dee

here at the garden!

[insert clip]

i miss u <3

Knowing that she is probably still resting in her room right now, your little sister was quick to reply before you could even slide your phone back into your pockets. Her replies made you smile as soon as you read them.

From Dee-dee

i miss u too yn </3

[insert voicemail of justin bieber’s that should be me]

fuck this flu 😤😤😤

i wanna watch tooooooo

can u livestream

To Dee-dee

i think that’s illegal, d

but don’t worry i’ll take clips

i’m with nat btw :))

[insert selfie with nat]

From Dee-dee

i know mom told me

i’m sure she helped u with ur outfit 

mom said u looked different

You didn’t know if that last text was something positive. Different is a confusing word. It can be good… or bad, especially when it comes from your mother. You wanted to think that maybe it was the former, but you cannot stop your brain from thinking that your mom probably hated what you were wearing when she saw you in the call earlier. You kept your head low, the brim of your cap shielding your face, pursing your lips as you stared at your screen. Then, another text popped up.

From Dee-dee

i’m sure u are the gorg queen that u are

anw enjoy the night 4 me

love uuuu

You smiled, trying to ease the tension you felt.

To Dee-dee

love u more. get some sleep ok? 💙

You locked your phone and slipped it back into your jacket pocket, glancing around the growing sea of people. You sat in the farthest seat in your row, so you have the metal concert railing on your left and Natasha on the right. The arena lights dimmed slightly, the buzz in the air sharpening into something electric. Somewhere above, the massive screen flashed with the Sweet September logo, and the crowd’s cheers instantly swelled.

This has been your second time attending their concert, yet you can still feel your heart pounding for so many reasons. 

Natasha leaned close. “Are you excited? You haven’t stopped smiling since we got here.”

You blinked, instantly lowering your head again. “Was I?”

She smirked. “You were.”

You chuckled, fingers brushing the fabric of your jeans. “I just… didn’t expect to feel this excited.”

“Well,” she said, eyes on the stage, “you did get a personal invite from the man himself.”

You didn’t respond, though the thought made warmth crawl up your neck.

Suddenly, the arena went completely dark. The screams rose to a deafening pitch, echoing off every wall. You felt the vibration under your feet, like the ground itself was alive. Red spotlights began to pulse across the stage. A single beat kicked through the speakers, and the crowd roared louder.

Then, lights flashed along to the beat of the drums, matching the screams. As if you cannot contain whatever you’re feeling, you chew on your lower lip.

Then, it went pitch black again. A mic’s high-pitched noise is heard, then taps on the mic fill the arena.

Someone cleared their throat, “Hello, mic test.”

The cheers went louder.

Red lights on the stage.

You see them.

Him.

“Welcome to the Denim Jungle!” 

You didn’t know you like when a man groans. Now that Jungkook did it in front of thousands of people, you can confirm that you liked it.

Dressed in black from head to toe, a glint of metal hanging from his ear, the microphone gripped loosely in his hand. The cheers nearly drowned out the opening chords of the first song, but it didn’t matter. His voice sliced right through the noise. Smooth, powerful, and alive.

Your breath caught. You had seen him perform before, but tonight was different. The energy here was wild, unrestrained. Gulping, you adjusted your cap on your head, trying to hide your face. As if someone will look at you and your flushed cheeks. 

You felt Natasha’s elbow nudge your arm. “You’re staring,” she whispered.

You couldn’t even deny it.

Because in that moment, under the flashing lights and the roar of thousands, you weren’t a princess. You weren’t anyone’s daughter or a future queen. You were just a girl, heart racing, watching a boy with a microphone command the world.

And maybe, just maybe, with the way he was looking at your way, he was singing for you.

Jungkook usually has trouble seeing things from the stage.

Both the fans and his bandmates have joked about his poor eyesight since he usually cannot read fan-made signs unless they are in the standing area. Wooshik or Mingyu will usually do all the sign-reading during fan interactions because Jungkook hates wearing glasses or lenses on stage.

But for some reason, tonight, you are simply an eyecatcher. 

You sat in the first row, right behind the standing crowd. After Tara told him that you were already in your seat, Jungkook made it his mission to look for you. He was so ready to pull out and put on his graded eyeglasses if he won’t be able to see you before their first song ended. But fortunately, like magnets, his eyes easily found you in the middle of their introduction when the lights passed by your spot.

Black leather jacket, black Yankees cap.

He kept that in mind, so he could look in your direction every now and then with ease. Jungkook throws a sly wink when you remove your cap for a moment. He tried not to get his tongue tied when he noticed your red lips forming into a smile.

“You’re smiling too much,” Carter nudged his shoulder while they were waiting for their cue to go on stage after the prerecorded video.

Before Jungkook could even say anything, Wooshik smirked, “Who wouldn’t? Her Royal Highness is in the house tonight.”

“Princess YN’s here?!” Mingyu’s eyes widened at their already-smiling vocalist. “You told me she said no last night!”

“I can’t tell you shit. You’re a blabbermouth.” Jungkook told him. “Plus, YN wants to keep her attendance lowkey. I have to respect that–”

“Okay, so you two are on a first-name basis now? No titles?” his best friend cuts him off again, teasing.

“Last ten seconds. Boys, please go to your spots.” 

A voice, their director, spoke in the in-ears. They followed, jogging on their rehearsed spots on the stage. They sang another song. It was louder and raunchier. Jungkook can feel his hair sticking to his forehead from how much energy he gave on that one. He’s so hyped up, determined to leave a mark tonight. After the song, he took a sip from a standby water bottle.

“Is everyone having a great time?”

Jungkook asked with his wired microphone, and the whole audience roared with screams and cheers. The bright lights pointed at him made it hard for him to see you clearly. But knowing 

“Now, is there anyone here up for a surprise?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Every member smiled with excitement from the crowd. They don’t really do surprise songs at every stop of their tour. So it thrills them too when Jungkook brings up a surprise song idea last night for them to play tonight. They only rehearsed the said song this morning.

“Seems like everyone is up for it.” Jungkook turned his head to his bandmates, silently signaling them to get ready.  He looked back at the audience. His eyes stopped at a specific spot, “By the way, this song is a dedication to someone special. I would like to greet the beautiful lady in–”

Cutting him off, Woosung began playing the drums for the song’s intro, and so did Carter and Mingyu with their guitars. They all smiled when they heard a small “aww” of disappointment from their fans. Jungkook combed through his damp hair with his fingers before singing the first line.

“You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.”

With the surprise song and the way Jungkook has been performing, the online spaces are getting crazy. The fans can tell that there is something in the show tonight. 

@.SWEETIESEPT says, “he’s girlfriend’s there, isn’t? #JungleDenimNY”

That one post got more than four thousand likes and reposts.

Jungkook was never open about his romantic relationships, but he has been spotted on different dates before. Years ago, he was seen with an actress. There were also rumors of him and a particular pop star, who was also touring the world, but nothing was really confirmed about it.

Then, there was a simple photo of an easily recognizable woman that fans used as a confirmation.

@.ilovemyboysfrfr posted, “saw her at the standings tho”

It was Louise Chu.

The model.

The highest-paid one last year.

She was often seen at the band’s shows. She didn’t shy away from expressing her love for Sweet September… and Jungkook in interviews. Fans always see her under his Instagram posts, commenting a simple heart emoji or just liking it. Jungkook himself barely mentions her in his own interview, but acknowledged her a few times. 

But one fan begs to differ. @.bluemoon04 randomly posted, “lol he didn’t care about that model.”

Under their tweet was a blurry image of a woman in a cap during the concert. It was taken on the sides. She was encircled in a red circle with an arrow pointing at the mysterious person. Given that the lights were dimmed during the event, the girl is barely recognizable. Her cap was almost covering her eyes.

The user added another tweet, “LC was on the left side of the audience, JK kept on turning his head on the right. he even blew a kiss in that direction.”

@.bluemoon04 says, “whoever this girl was… i like her red lip lol”

The thread barely got attention anyway. 

It was right before the encore. 

A staff member quietly approached you and Nat with his small flashlight. He mentioned something about an easier exit. Although you were a little sad to leave the concert earlier, you followed behind him. Nat remained alert, side-eyeing the staff member while he guided you two out of the crowd.

Your assistant scooted closer to you when you passed by someone who audibly gasped. You realized it was not because of the performers on stage, as you heard murmurs of Zafiro and a princess afterward.

"Ignore it," Natasha whispered, her shoulder brushing yours. "Just keep moving, YN."

As you walked down the hallway backstage, you saw Tara waving her hand. She meets you halfway, “I’m sorry I had to pull you guys out before the last song. Jungkook said it might get too dangerous for you if we let you go with the fans after the concert.”

You didn’t even think of that. 

“Oh, that was really nice of him,” you whispered before catching a glimpse of a reflection of yourself in a mirror placed on the side.

Tara kept talking about something while you looked at yourself. After almost two hours of jumping and singing along in the concert, your hair has gone crazy. Your dark eyeshadow was almost smudged, making you more different than your usual look. You can imagine your mom disapproving of this look. Unconsciously, you pulled your top down as it accidentally exposed the lower part of your stomach. No one would probably notice it in hindsight, because of your leather jacket, but you do.

“YN, are you okay?”

You snapped out, immediately eyeing Nat. You realized that you spaced out, and they were waiting for you to respond to something Tara probably asked.

Tara smiled, “Jungkook was hoping to meet you after the show. Is it okay for you to wait?”

You look at your assistant. There is a plane that you are supposed to take in not more than two hours now. You always prefer arriving at events early out of respect, hating the feeling of knowing people are waiting for you. Unlike your sister, who doesn’t mind taking her time. It was one of the reasons why you were the one always sent out to public events by the King and Queen.

Nat raised her brows at you. She can easily read your thoughts just by a look. With that, she simply nodded, which instantly made you smile.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there, lover boy!”

The adrenaline hasn’t even come down yet. He can still hear the fans from the distant. As soon as the stage lift came down, Jungkook jumped to make his way backstage. That earned him a scolding from Carter, who stayed behind along with the rest of the band. But their vocalist didn’t care.

Jungkook only had one thing in mind tonight.

“Hey, hey, Jeon.” 

Suddenly, he was grabbed by his arm by their manager. Tara had that confusion drawn on her face, “Why are you so in a rush?”

Jungkook was still catching his breath, both from the concert and running, when he replied, words almost jumbling off his tongue, “I didn’t see her during the encore. Did she say yes? Did she leave already? I was–”

He paused when he noticed you already standing behind Tara. Still wearing your cap, a small smile formed on your lips. You gave him a shy wave. The woman next to you was trying not to laugh, and Jungkook realized how pathetic he might have sounded. He can feel the warmth forming across his cheeks.

“Hey,” you greeted him, almost inaudible.

“H-Hi.” Jungkook gulped. 

He stood there for a second too long, chest heaving under his sweat-soaked black shirt. He looked nothing like the rockstar who had just commanded a crowd of people in this very arena. Instead, he looked like a little boy caught stealing.

“You’re still here,” he finally breathed out, a grin breaking through his exhaustion. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “I thought... I remembered you still have a plane to catch tonight. I thought you’d gone back to your hotel.”

“Not yet,” you said, your fingers twisting the hem of your leather jacket. “Tara said you wanted to say hi.”

“More than hi, actually,” he countered, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped closer, ignoring everyone else. You gulped.

He felt a little braver, and your heart beat got a little faster.

You two looked at each other like you were the only people in the room. Everyone who was in the room except him felt quiet and invisible, and they could tell. You figured it was easy to get lost in his eyes, like he knows the power he has to pull you in. It was strange and new, which are adjectives you don’t really like. But there is something about him that makes you want to know the things you never knew. 

“I know you have a flight at midnight, which is unfortunately two hours from now…” Jungkook says, his voice barely a whisper between you two. 

“Mhm…” You looked at him, humming for him to continue. Studying his face, you waited for him. A dimple showed on his cheek when he opened his lips to say something, but closed them again.

“I, uhm,” he awkwardly chuckled. “I… I was wonde–” he paused again, looking down. “I’m sorry. I really want to say something, but you’re looking at me, and it’s making me nervous.”

Your eyes widened at the unexpected remark, “Oh. Should… Should I not? I’m sor–”

“No, no! It’s not you,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, it is you. It’s because of you. I like your eyes. I–”

“Jeon Jungkook, get to your point!” 

Finally, someone around you spoke. That’s when you noticed his band members, manager, and Natasha are already standing behind Jungkook. They gave you space while you two are having your own universe. You also notice the rockstar’s ears turning red by that. 

“Can you guys leave us alone?” he jokingly told them. But they followed, even Natasha, whom you gave a nod. 

Once left alone in the green room, he chuckled awkwardly once again. You look at him, waiting for him to gain the courage to say whatever he was about to say. He seemed really nervous. An idea crossed your head. 

Should I do it?

You wanted to think about it for a much longer time, but considering that you two are alone, you let yourself. After letting out a soft sigh, you placed a hand on his chest, which was quite firmer than you anticipated.

“Take a deep breath first,” you whispered. 

It was like a war was going on inside Jungkook’s head. Fireworks popped in it when he felt your hand on his body. You asked him to breathe without knowing how much power you have over him just by your touch. It was hard to move, especially when he was thinking if you could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

“Inhale…” you led him, inhaling. He followed, not breaking eye contact. You held your breath for a second before letting it out, “Exhale.”

He followed your lead like a man in a trance, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. For a second, you thought he looked so undone, so unresisting while being irresistible himself.

As he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders finally snapped. He didn't pull away; instead, he leaned into the touch, his own hand coming up to hover near yours before he lost his nerve and let it drop. 

“Better?” you asked softly, though your own heart was beginning to betray the facade you were trying to project. You bit your cheek to calm your nerves.

“So much better,” he murmured. He cleared his throat, finally finding the words that had been stuck behind his ribs all night. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner, but... I know that is impossible.”

Anticipating, you can feel your heart breaking at that because he was right. As much as you would love for him to take you out to dinner, you are not just some person. You are someone who represents a nation and more. Hell, you were not even supposed to be here. You are supposed to be the responsible and mature royal princess your fate shaped you to be since your birth. 

The air in the green room shifted. It was thickening, turning into a heavy, sweet sort of pressure. Your lungs began to ache. His admission hit you harder now. For the first time, you felt like your crown was a wall built for you to experience life. 

You started to pull your hand back, but he was quick, catching your wrist. His grip wasn't tight, but it was certain.

“I didn't finish,” he said, his voice felt firm, but his eyes remained soft. “I know dinner is impossible. I know that you have people waiting for you outside and at the palace. But I have a bike parked at the service exit. No security, no cameras. Only two really dark, tinted helmets.”

Suddenly, it was easier to breathe. He can see how your eyes sparkled. He continued, “I know I can’t take you to a restaurant right now, YN. But are you fine in giving me forty minutes of your time to ride around New York?”

You looked down at his hand on your wrist.

Maybe it was in the way he said it. But being invited to travel didn’t feel like an obligation now. Usually, you are tasked to visit places to represent Zafiro. But tonight, you are just here, invited as yourself. As YN– as a woman–not the princess. 

“Forty minutes?” you repeated as if confirming it.

“I would say more, but I know my limits,” he joked, which made you smile.

“Forty minutes,” you whisper to yourself.

You can feel a voice inside you screaming, asking you to decline, as this is not in your schedule. This is not what your mother would want or your father would hope for. Your sister, Astrid, would be surprised. All of the things you polished in your whole life could get tainted if anything happens in this offer Jungkook made.

But you looked back at him and remembered the helmets he mentioned. It’s probably really matte and dark, something that can make you invincible for a moment.

“Jungkook, if I don’t get back here safely in forty minutes,” you paused, gulping down the worries, “It’s not just a missed flight. It’s an international code red.” 

You knew he knew that; you just want to make sure.

But Jungkook’s grip did not loosen. If anything, he got braver and stepped a fraction closer, the scent of his stage-sweat and expensive cologne wrapping around you.

“I’ll have you back before any news article hits The King’s desk,” he promised, his voice dropping to a low, rough vibrato. “And I am a very careful driver. I promise.”

You looked at the door where Natasha and the others had retreated. You knew that by walking out of that service exit, you were breaking every rule you learned. You were asking yourself to be a stranger for a while. 

“I’ve spent years following my schedule,” you said, finally pulling your wrist free, not to retreat, but to firmly zip up your leather jacket. “I think I can spare forty minutes.”

A slow, triumphant grin spread across Jungkook’s face, and a dimple flashed on his cheek. He didn't waste another second, reaching for his own leather jacket. He helped you to put on the helmet.

“Okay?” he asked, and you nodded. He can imagine you smiling under the visor.

It was heavier than your usual headdress, but it didn’t feel like a burden. 

He put on his before offering his gloved hand, the one that covered his distinct tattoos. “Let’s go?”

“Let’s go.” 

You let him pull you through the shadows of the loading dock. The noise of the city outside is beginning to drown out the echoes of the people leaving the arena. When you reached outside, no one was really around. You didn’t know there was this part of the arena. You watched as Jungkook kicked up the kickstand; the engine’s growl echoed. He offered his arm for you to hold on as you ride behind him.

You pulled the dark visor down, and suddenly, the world went quiet and tinted. You couldn't see the SUV. You couldn't see anything else, only the back of his leather jacket and the open road beyond the distant gate.

As you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your chest against his back, you felt his heart sync with yours. You felt alive.

Before moving the big bike, Jungkook glanced back at you through his own visor. He didn't say a word. He just twisted the throttle, and as the bike lurched forward into the neon blur of New York, you realized you weren't just leaving the arena.

You were leaving a crown behind.

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