#foreignjaykay

Jane’s expression softened. “He’s not worth another thought, you know that. Besides, New York! Girl, think of all the distractions.” She knew how badly you need that distraction.

You managed to give a weak smile. “Distractions are exactly what I need.”

It had been two weeks since your third situationship had ended. It wasn’t really even about the situationships anymore. They were just a way to, you know, distract yourself. Funny how you needed a distraction from the distraction. 

You shook your head, not wanting to think about these thoughts anymore. "Come on, we need to head to the airport," Jane called from the living room. While being your colleague, you were thankful Jane was also your roommate.

You always thought how were you doing life before you met her?

“Is Jimin meeting us directly at the airport?” You asked Jane as you put the luggage on the trolley, biting your lip, while Jane paid for the cab. 

God, you loved airports. The air in the terminal crackled with the static of announcements, a constant hum punctuated by the clatter of rolling suitcases. You took a deep breath of the recycled terminal air, and smiled. Everything about it just soaked you in. You didn't look at the airport as goodbye or whatever cliche thoughts people had or rather what movies made it sell. Airports always were a pit point of adventures. You loved the journey more than the destination.

 “Uh..” she trailed off, looking around. Then, when she finally spotted Jimin, she smiled, pointing towards a figure with blonde hair, waving enthusiastically. “There he is,” she said.

“Hello girls! Ready for the best weekend of your life or what?” Even at 7am Jimin was enthusiastic. A trait you and Jane seemed to lack.

 Noticing your and Jane’s expressions, he deflated slightly. “Oh come on. It’s New York.” He said, like that was supposed to solve everything.

You suppressed a small, tired smile. If you were truly honest, a flicker of excitement was there, buried beneath the exhaustion and the lingering weight of… well, everything.

Jimin, undeterred, threw an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that was more about his own excitement than any real comfort. “Imagine,” he said as his hands gestured wildly. “The guys! Oh, the guys! Picture this: chiseled jaws, smoldering eyes, every single one of them falling at our feet! Or, you know, the girls, if that's your thing. Glamorous, sophisticated, practically throwing themselves at us!”

You raised an eyebrow, a silent “really?”

Both him and Jane burst out laughing with Jimin giving your shoulder a quick, apologetic squeeze. “Okay, okay, I’m exaggerating a bit. But still! The energy, the food, the Mix Fest… it’s going to be amazing.” 

Mid conversation, you felt your phone vibrate but you ignored it.

Jane, already shifting her weight impatiently, cut in. “Let’s just get through security. My caffeine levels are dangerously low, and I’m starting to see things.”

Inside the terminal, the air was that familiar mix of recycled chill and faint jet fuel. You dragged your luggage to a trolley, the wheels rattling unevenly. The line for security was a slow-moving river of sleep-deprived faces and overstuffed backpacks.

The security process was the usual dance – laptop out, liquids in a bag, shoes off. You walked through the scanner, then beep a dull, familiar sound. On the other side, you fumbled with your shoes, the laces feeling stiff and unfamiliar. You watched Jane and Jimin, their banter a low hum in the background, a comforting, if slightly annoying, constant. You were ready for this weekend, even if you weren't fully aware of it yet.

The plane’s engines roared, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through your seat. You were thankful you luckily had no one sitting next to you in the middle seat.

 You pressed your forehead against the cool, slightly scratched window, with your neck pillow, watching as Seoul’s sprawling cityscape receded, transforming into a miniature tapestry of lights. Window seat, always, you thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your phone, its memory perpetually teetering on the brink of overload, was clutched in your hand, the camera app already open. Another travel video to add to the collection, you mused, knowing full well your storage was a lost cause. The click of the record button was automatic, a familiar ritual.

However after recording which looked like the 5th take, your hands instinctively went to the messages app and there it was. A text sitting from Mingyu.

A wave of something, a mix of anger and exhaustion, washed over you. Seriously? you thought, the word a silent, incredulous question. He’s really doing this.

"Sorry baby." The pet name, once a source of warmth, now felt like a cold, slimy thing. It was like he was trying to push a button, and he knew exactly which one to push. Seven months. Seven months since you'd found out about the beach trip, the "business meeting," the her. And now, this. At 7 a.m., no less. How did he even know you were traveling? It wasn't a coincidence. Mingyu wasn't a coincidence kind of guy. He was calculated, always had been. That was how he had been able to cheat. To plan it, to execute it, to lie. That was the real problem, it wasn't a mistake, it was a plan.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button, then the delete button. You just stared. What could you even say? What was there left to say? 

No matter how many times you asked him to not text you, he still did at several intervals. You couldn’t block him. You had tried, really tried, but just couldn't do it. So you ignored him.

A sigh escaped your lips, a sound lost in the hum of the plane. You closed your eyes, the image of his face, his smile, the way he’d looked at her, flashing behind your eyelids. Your mind did take you to the past. The place you didn’t want to go and before you knew it, you were pulled into the memory.

"Babyyyy, let me help you pack,"  you murmured, a soft smile playing on your lips as he stirred in the warm tangle of sheets. Mingyu's head was nestled in the curve of your neck, his breath a gentle caress against your skin. A low, sleepy groan rumbled in his chest, a familiar sound that usually led to a lazy, affectionate morning.

He shifted, his lips brushing against your neck in a soft, lingering kiss. "Mmm, five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, his arms tightening around you.

You chuckled, gently stroking his hair. "Come on, sleepyhead. Your flight leaves in a few hours."

He reluctantly lifted his head, his eyes still half-closed, a soft, almost hazy look in them. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, but a playful smile tugged at his lips. "But only because I love you."

After the two of you had breakfast, you got up to help him pack.

He watched as you started pulling clothes from the closet, carefully folding them into his suitcase. "Let me help," you offered, reaching for a pile of his favorite shirts.

"No, it's okay," he said, a little too quickly, his hand moving to intercept yours. "I've got it." He placed the shirts back in the closet.

He moved to stand infront of the suitcase, blocking it from your view. "You know you have that blue shirt I like, packed right?" He asked, not moving.

A flicker of unease danced in your stomach. It wasn't like him to be so insistent. Usually, he'd be all over letting you help him, eager to make your life easier. "Are you sure? I don't mind," you said, your voice laced with a hint of confusion. Why was he being so weird about this?

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You know I hate seeing you stressed before I travel. I've been working so hard lately. I need to focus on this trip."

He moved away from the suitcase, and sat on the edge of the bed. You shrugged it off. He was an investment banker, you reminded yourself, long hours and endless meetings were part of his job. He was probably just tired. But the tiny niggle of unease refused to fully leave you.

Two days later, you were on the phone with him, his voice sounding distant and strained. "Just a few more meetings," he'd said, "and I'll be back. I miss you."

“I miss you too. I love you.” You remember saying but you felt a pit in your stomach.

“Me too,” he said. It felt flat, like he didn’t mean it.

Once you hung up the call, that strange sense of unease settled in your stomach. It was a feeling you couldn't quite place, a knot of anxiety that tightened with each passing moment.

You opened Instagram, scrolling through stories to distract yourself. Changbin’s name flashed on the screen. Changbin. You'd never really liked him. There was something about his smug grin and his sharp, dismissive comments that always rubbed you the wrong way.

Your finger hovered over the screen, a moment of hesitation before you pressed play.

The story opened on a sun-drenched beach, the turquoise water sparkling in the sunlight. The sound of laughter, a clinking of glasses. Your breath hitched. Then, the camera panned, revealing a group of people lounging on beach chairs. Mingyu.

Your breath hitched. He was there, on a beach, not in a boardroom. And then you saw her. A girl with sun-kissed skin and a wide, beaming smile, sitting on Mingyu’s lap, her hand resting casually on his thigh. Another girl was sitting with Changbin. It looked like a couples trip.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The phone slipped from your numb fingers, clattering to the floor. The image of Mingyu and the girl, their laughter echoing in your ears, was a cruel, sharp blow. He lied, you thought, the word a hollow echo in your mind. He lied to me. The feeling of betrayal was so strong, it was almost physical.

You immediately opened your eyes, not wanting to think about it. When you touched your face, you felt the tears.

After the flight landed, the surge of passengers flooded the terminal and walked towards the baggage belt.

“I had the best sleep ever,” Jane mumbled as she adjusted her purse strap. You nodded your head and smiled.

“God I’m hungry. Before going to the venue, I am gonna have a nice shower and eat my heart out,” Jimin said while walking next to you.

You were eager to get your luggage and head to the hotel, the buzz of NYC already palpable. You navigated the crowd, trying to keep up with Jane and Jimin who were already in their own world, gossiping, when suddenly, you bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” you blurted out, instinctively stepping back.

Your eyes met his. Even with the black cap and mask obscuring part of his face, you could see the warmth in his eyes. He was wearing a checkered shirt, a pattern that seemed to suit him perfectly, a bit casual, a bit…rock and roll. He had a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

“No problem,” he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble. “My fault, really.”

For a moment, time seemed to slow. There was something familiar in his gaze, a spark of recognition that you couldn’t quite place. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled slightly, even with the mask.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the moment was over. He nodded, a slight tilt of his head, and continued walking.

You stood there, slightly dazed, watching him disappear into the crowd. A musician, definitely. The checkered shirt, the guitar case, it all fit. Your type, if you were still… you know. But you weren’t. Not anymore.

“Come on, ___,” Jane said, pulling you by the arm. “Luggage claim’s that way.”

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, a subtle tremor in the air. You glanced back, but he was gone. Just another face in the sea of arriving passengers. Just another fleeting moment.

It's not always you see handsome strangers. You also loved the airport because imagine having that airport crush and bam you never see them again. This should be counted as that.

You pushed the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. New York. Don Julio setup. The Mix Fest. That was your reality now. No room for distractions. Especially not the kind that came with warm brown eyes, a checkered shirt, and a guitar case.

The taxi, a yellow blur against the twilight canvas of New York City, deposited you, Jane, and Jimin in front of The Ludlow. Stepping out, you stretched, a groan escaping your lips. "Man, that flight felt like it was never going to end," you muttered, pulling your carry-on from the trunk.

"Tell me about it," Jane agreed, rubbing her neck. "I swear, my neck pillow just made things worse."

You noticed Jimin was quiet which was very unlike him. “You okay?” Concern laced on your features as you took back the change from the taxi driver while mumbling a ‘thank you’.

“Yeah, yeah, I just need sleep. The guy next to me snored so loudly that I couldn’t sleep. At all,” He rolled his eyes and gave a tired smile.

As the three of you entered the hotel, the lobby of The Ludlow was a masterclass in curated cool, a symphony of exposed brick, plush velvet seating, and strategically placed lights casting a warm, inviting glow. 

The check-in process was quick and efficient. "Room 502 for you two, and 504 for you, Mr. Park," the receptionist said, handing over the keys.

While entering the elevator of the hotel, Jimin couldn’t help but say, ”This place is so cool," Jimin observed, his eyes wide. "Definitely an upgrade from our usual."

"Speak for yourself," Jane retorted, playfully shoving him. "I'm used to the finer things in life."

“The budget for this event is definitely high,” You laughed and tapped your key card and then pressed the floor no on the elevator.

Once the three of you exited the elevator and searched around for your rooms, "Alright, ladies," Jimin declared, grabbing his suitcase. "I'll see you at the venue. I need to unpack and… you know, groom."

"Groom?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "You mean check your hair for split ends?"

"Hey!" Jimin protested, feigning offense. "A man's gotta look his best!"

“Alright both of you,” you chuckled. “Jimin, we will see you in an hour?” He laughed and nodded.

You and Jane headed to your suite, a spacious room with a view that made you catch your breath. The two of you shared spacious suite, a minimalist haven of clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking panorama of the city skyline, a tapestry of twinkling lights against the inky blackness

 "Wow," you breathed, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "This is incredible."

 "I could get used to this," Jane said, plopping down on one of the beds. "First order of business: shower. Second: nap. Third: find the mini-bar."

"Sounds like a plan," you agreed, grabbing your toiletry bag. "I'm going to jump in the shower first. You can raid the mini-bar while I'm in there."

As you entered the bathroom, the cool, smooth porcelain of the bathroom sink greeted your fingertips as you leaned against it, the mirror reflecting a weary version of yourself. The journey, the anticipation, the ever-present weight of Mingyu’s lingering texts – it had all coalesced into a knot of tension in your shoulders. You needed a moment, a physical and mental cleansing. "Shower first," you muttered to yourself, echoing Jane's earlier declaration.

The click of the shower knob was a small, decisive sound, a promise of release. As the water began to cascade, you adjusted the temperature, seeking that perfect hot water balance. The kind of temperature that is relaxing but also the temperature is very high. You stripped off your travel-worn clothes, the soft fabric falling to the cool tile floor, a tangible shedding of the day's layers.

Slowly the much needed warmth enveloped you, a comforting embrace that eased the tightness in your muscles. The sound of the water, a constant, rhythmic drumming against the tile, filled the small space, creating a private world within the bustling city.

As the water streamed down your face, you closed your eyes, letting the physical sensation wash over you. The scent of the hotel’s lemongrass-infused shampoo filled your nostrils, a clean, invigorating aroma that momentarily pushed aside the lingering mental clutter. You tilted your head back, letting the water trace paths down your skin, each droplet a tiny, fleeting caress.

But even here, in the supposed sanctuary of the shower, Mingyu’s presence lingered. His face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the soft timbre of his voice – these memories, once sources of comfort, now felt like shards of glass – sharp and painful. You remembered the way he used to pull you close, the feeling of his arms around you, a warmth that now seemed like a cruel illusion.

Why? The question echoed in your mind, a silent scream in the quiet space. Why did you do this? Why did you lie? Why did you break my trust? The questions swirled, unanswered, like the steam rising from the hot water.

You reached for the body wash, the fragrant gel a temporary balm for the emotional wounds. As you lathered your skin, your mind automatically focused on the physical sensations – the slickness of the gel, the warmth of the water, the gentle massage of your own hands. You tried to ground yourself in the present moment, to push away the intrusive thoughts, but they were relentless, like persistent whispers in the back of your mind.

You remembered the way he would hold your hand, the gentle squeeze that always made you feel safe and loved. Now, the memory felt tainted, a reminder of the trust that had been irrevocably shattered.

The sound of the water, once a soothing rhythm, now seemed to amplify the silence within your own thoughts. The absence of his voice, his touch, his presence, was a gaping void, a stark reminder of what you had lost.

You thought about the future, the road ahead. It stretched before you, uncertain and unknown. The thought of navigating this new chapter alone was daunting, but also strangely liberating. You were free, finally free from the weight of his lies, his manipulations, his betrayals.

You imagined a life without him, a life filled with new experiences, new connections, new possibilities. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. You were stepping into the unknown, leaving behind the familiar comfort of a relationship that had ultimately become a source of pain.

You rinsed the remaining soap from your skin, the water now a cool, refreshing stream. You stepped out of the shower, the cool air a sharp contrast to the warmth of the water. You reached for a plush, white towel, wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a comforting embrace.

As you dried your hair, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at you was slightly different, slightly stronger, slightly more resilient. 

What if I never move past this hurt? is the question that always haunted you. 

The pain was still there, etched in the lines around your eyes, but there was also a newfound sense of determination, a quiet strength that you hadn't seen before.

You were going to be okay. You were going to heal. You were going to move on from this hurt. And you were going to do it on your own terms. 

After a long, hot shower that felt like therapy, you changed into more comfortable clothes . The soft cotton felt good against your skin, a welcome contrast to the tense, coiled feeling you'd carried since the flight. You stared at your reflection, a flicker of something like resolve in your eyes. "Alright, venue time," you announced, emerging from the bathroom, the lingering scent of lemongrass trailing behind you. "Let's see what they've got going on."

"Finally," Jane groaned, stretching her arms above her head like a cat, her spine audibly cracking. "I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there.” She gave you a playful smirk. "Seriously, I was about to send in a search party."

You chuckled, a small, genuine sound. "Sorry, lost track of time. Needed a… reset. Besides the temperature is perfect, " 

“Also you might wanna check your phone,” Jane smirked and went inside the bathroom, leaving you confused. She couldn’t possibly know about Mingyu’s text. His contact was deep buried in your archives list.

You unlock your phone only to see a notification from Jay – the guy you went on two dates, 3 months after your breakup with Mingyu. You opened Jay’s text and you weren’t surprised to see what he had sent.

Yeah, no. 

Your first failed situationship or talking stage. Whatever it is called.

You immediately replied to him.

Yeah it was wild. Even for him.

On the first date itself you had understood, he was here for one thing. Not that you minded, but at that moment you weren’t ready for it. 

Even after ending that weird thing you had with him, he still behaved unhinged sometimes. Nothing you couldn't handle.

His selfie did get you out of your thoughts from Mingyu and onto some another thought – at the end of the day, you were an honest woman.

Once the three of you were ready, the taxi ride to the venue was a blur of New York sights and sounds. The city was a sensory overload, a vibrant tapestry of honking horns, chattering voices, and the tantalizing aroma of street food. "Whoa, this place is huge," Jane commented, her eyes wide as you stepped into the converted ground space. "They're really going all out."

The venue was indeed a whirlwind of activity. Stagehands were scrambling up scaffolding, adjusting lights that cast dramatic shadows across the space. Sound technicians were huddled over consoles, their brows furrowed in concentration. And a local band was running through a soundcheck, their music a mix of gritty rock and soulful blues, filling the stress filled space.

"They better be," you said, scanning the half-assembled bar, noting the unfinished details, the unpolished surfaces. "We've got a lot riding on this." The pressure was a familiar weight, but today, it felt heavier, amplified by the lingering anxiety.

"Relax, boss lady," Jimin said, appearing at your side, his usual cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to your focused intensity. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Just tell us what to do." He added and smiled.

You softened slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing a fraction. "Just… keep an eye on things," you said, gesturing towards the bar area. "Make sure they're following the layout, that the glassware is being handled carefully. And try not to break anything."

"Got it," Jimin grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Consider me your personal bar manager."

"Looks like they're making progress," you said, surveying the half-assembled bar, noting the placement of the back bar, the ice machines, and the overall flow of the space. "But we still have a lot to do. Tomorrow's 10 a.m. deadline is on our head, and the gates open at 12:30 p.m. No margin for error." 

You met with Dominic and Sarah, the customer marketing managers, both being the whirlwind of energy and efficiency. "Everything's on schedule," you assured them, your voice laced with a hint of controlled panic, their eyes darting between the various tasks being carried out around them. "But we're still waiting on the customised DJ glassware. Should be here by 8 a.m. tomorrow."

“___ we are not worried when you are on the project,” Dominic said while smiling. Thats on you bustling your ass and doing client servicing. You smiled.

You made mental notes, mentally ticking off items on your checklist. "We need to finalize the cocktail menu placement, ensure the ice machines are working, and double-check the placement of the floral arrangements," you said, your voice calm and authoritative, projecting an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel. You also checked the placement of the ice, the back bar, and the overall flow of the staff.  "The flow is very important,____. We cannot have a choke point at the bar. We need to keep things moving" Sarah explained, pointing to a potential bottleneck near the main entrance.

You nodded your head and already aligning your team for this hiccup to not take place.

Once Jimin had overlooked the production and Jane had instructed the bar team, the three of you left the venue.

"Dinner?" Jimin suggested, his stomach audibly rumbling, a low, guttural growl that echoed in the quiet street. "I'm starving and I will be back to check on the production,”

 "Dinner time," Jane declared, her stomach growling audibly. "I'm starving too. And I need a real drink, not just whatever's in that mini bar."

The Italian trattoria was warm and inviting, the air thick with the aroma of garlic, oregano, and simmering tomato sauce. "This place smells amazing," You said, inhaling deeply. "I'm going to order everything on the menu." 

The two of them laughed. At this point everyone in office knew your love for italian food. They thought you were joking. Oh.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories, a welcome distraction from the day's pressures and travel. "Remember that time we went to that karaoke bar in Seoul?" Jimin asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And you tried to sing 'As Long As You Love Me' by Bieber?"

"Oh god, don't remind me," Jane groaned, burying her face in her hands. "That was a disaster. A beautiful, ear-splitting disaster."

"It was a masterpiece," Jimin insisted, laughing. "A glorious, beautiful disaster. The audience was mesmerized."

“Yeah I couldn’t hear that song normally for months. Still can’t,” You were laughing along with them, the sound genuine and light, when you noticed the man at the table next to you. He looked familiar, but you couldn't quite place him. "Who's that?" you asked, nudging Jane, your voice lowered.

"Who?" she asked, following your gaze. "Oh, him. I don't know. Just some guy. Why?"

"He looks familiar," you said, frowning, tilting your head slightly. "I feel like I've seen him somewhere before. But I can't quite remember where."

"Maybe you have," Jimin said, shrugging, taking a bite of his pasta. "New York's a small world. Or maybe you're just imagining it. You've been working too hard."

You shrugged, dismissing the thought. But the feeling of familiarity lingered, a small, persistent itch in the back of your mind.

As you excused yourself to use the restroom, you bumped into someone in the narrow hallway. "Oh, sorry!" you blurted out, instinctively stepping back, a flicker of surprise in your eyes.

Your eyes met his doe eyes. He was handsome, with a warm, inviting smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "No problem," he said, his voice a low rumble, a hint of amusement in his tone. "We keep meeting this way."

"Excuse me?" you asked, confused, your brow furrowed. We do? you thought. Where have I seen him?

He just smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if he knew something you didn't. "Never mind," he said, his voice laced with a gentle teasing. "Have a good night."

"You too," you said, watching him walk away, your mind buzzing with questions. Who is he? And why does he seem so familiar? you thought. "That was weird," you muttered under your breath, a sense of unease mixing with a strange curiosity.

Once you were back into your hotel room, it was already 12am. You immediately texted Jimin who after the dinner had gone back to the venue to check on the production. How was this man not tired?

You heard Jane laugh next to you on the texts the 3 of you had just exchanged.

“Alright, goodnight Jane-y. We have to reach the venue by 7AM so Jimin can come back and rest and come back once the fest starts,” You said as you set your alarm.

Jane, sleepy, nodded and mumbled “Good night love,” and immediately dozed off.

As much as you tried to sleep, you really couldn’t. You checked the time, and it was 1AM. You took your phone from the night stand and unlocked your phone. Maybe TikTok or Instagram reels might help.

Brainrot content – that's all you saw.

Mid laughing at a reel, your phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the silence. Mingyu's name flashed across the screen, a stark reminder of the past that had been haunting your every step. You hesitated, your finger hovering over the answer button, a battle raging within you. Ignore it. Let it go. 

And so you didn’t pick up.

The phone rang again.

This time the need for closure, the need to finally confront the lingering pain, won out. You pressed the button, the sound of the connection a sharp, decisive click.

"Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the carefully constructed facade of composure. “I asked you not to-,”

You were cut off. "___," he began, his voice a low, urgent murmur, laced with a desperation that sent a shiver down your spine. "Please, just… please, listen to me. I need you to hear me out before you hang up."

You carefully removed the duvet and went inside the balcony, trying not to wake up Jane who was in a deep slumber.

"Hear you out?" you scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you closed the balcony door behind you. "After everything? After you tore my world apart? You are funny, I’ll give you that,”

You heard him sigh on the other end.

"I know I hurt you, baby. I know I messed up. But… but I need you to understand. It wasn't just about… about the physical thing. It was about… feeling lost. Feeling like I wasn't enough." His voice cracked, and you could hear the raw emotion beneath the words.

"Don’t call me that,” You said. How could he? 

 “You lost that right the day you decided to cheat and not enough?" you repeated, incredulous. "I loved you, Mingyu. I supported you. I believed in you. And you tell me I wasn’t enough? Wow."

"It wasn't about you, ___. It was about me. My insecurities, my fears. I was trying to run away from myself, and I dragged you into it. I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, you almost believed him.

"So, you ran to her," you said, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and pain. "Someone who made you feel better about yourself. Someone who gave you the validation you thought I wasn't giving you."

"It wasn't like that," he insisted, his voice strained, pleading. "It was more… complicated. She… she understood a part of me that I felt like I couldn't share with anyone else."

"A part of you that you couldn't share with me?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, the pain cutting through you like a knife. "The person who loved you unconditionally? The person who gave you her heart?"

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I know I messed up. I messed up big time. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I need you to know… I never stopped loving you, ___. Even when I was with her, it was you I thought about. You're the one I want."

"You have some nerve," you managed to say and a bitter laugh escaped your lips. "You want me now? After you've had your little… adventure? After you've broken my trust beyond repair?"

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, his voice cracking, the desperation evident. "But I'm begging you. Please, give me another chance. I'll do anything. I'll change. I'll be the man you deserve. I'll be better."

"You can't change who you are, Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling, tears welling up in your eyes. "And I can't go back to who I was. I can't go back to being someone who's constantly waiting for you to break my heart again. I can't live with that fear anymore."

Little did you know, Jane woke up. She watched you talk to Mingyu, proud of you finally letting it out. Finally standing up for yourself and letting out all your bottled up emotions.

"Please, ___, don't do this," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "I need you. I love you. Please."

"No, Mingyu," you said, your voice firm, a newfound sense of strength resonating within you. "I need to let you go. I need to let myself go. I need to be free. I am finally free. You changed me. And I thank you for that."

"What?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion, a hint of panic creeping in.

"I am finally myself," you said, your voice clear, strong, a wave of liberation washing over you. "And I can't be myself with you. I can't be the person I am meant to be if I'm still clinging to the past."

"No, ___, don't," he pleaded, his voice desperate, a raw vulnerability exposed. "Please, don't say that. Don't do this to us. To me."

"Goodbye, Mingyu," you said, your voice steady, a sense of closure settling within you.

“Baby please," his voice breaking.

“Mingyu don't,” You said wiping your tears.

“Just don’t call or text me. Please,” 

He took several moments before he managed to mumble an ‘okay’

“Goodbye Mingyu,” You finally managed to say. 

“Goodbye ____. I’ll always love you,” He said that with what seemed like a genuine tone and with that you pressed the end call button, the click a sharp, final sound. You stared at your phone, the screen reflecting your tear-streaked face. You felt lighter, freer than you had in months. The shackles were gone, the weight lifted. You were finally, truly, free.

Tears streamed down your face, but they weren't tears of pain or anger. They were tears of release, of finally freeing yourself from the shackles of the past. You let yourself cry, the sobs wracking your body, each one a step further away from the pain.

As the tears subsided, you felt a gentle warmth envelop you. Jane was standing beside your bed, her eyes filled with concern and understanding. She didn't say a word, didn't ask any questions. She simply wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, offering silent comfort and unwavering support. You clung to her, the tears flowing freely, not from sadness, but from a profound sense of relief and liberation. You had finally broken free, and Jane was there to help you celebrate that newfound freedom.

DAY 1 - NYC MIX FEST

The venue pulsed with a palpable energy, a stark contrast to the quiet, almost solemn, introspection of the previous night. By 12 PM, the Don Julio bar was a gleaming masterpiece of polished wood, shimmering glassware, and precisely arranged bottles of their stunning portfolio. The customized Mexican DJ-inspired, skull glassware, thankfully delivered right on schedule, caught the light, casting a dazzling array of reflections. You, Jane, and Jimin moved with practiced ease, fine-tuning the last details, ensuring every element was flawless. The air crackled with the sound of music, the clinking of glasses, and the excited murmur of early attendees.

"Looks like we actually pulled it off, huh?" Jane said, a sigh of genuine relief escaping her lips as she meticulously adjusted a row of cocktail garnishes. "I was starting to think those glasses were cursed."

"Don't even say that," Jimin retorted, his brow furrowed as he adjusted a floral arrangement with the precision of a surgeon. "We're not out of the woods yet. We still have the main rush to contend with." He paused, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "But yeah, it looks good. Real good."

You took a deep breath, the crisp scent of fresh lime and premium tequila filling your senses. This is it, you thought, a quiet sense of triumph washing over you. A new day, a new beginning. The lingering weight of Mingyu's call had completely dissipated, replaced by a feeling of lightness, a newfound sense of quiet confidence. "Let's take a quick walk around," you suggested, gesturing towards the bustling crowd. "See what the other brands are doing. Get a feel for the atmosphere."

The venue was a sprawling showcase of branded experiences, each competing for attention. Tanqueray's gin garden was a verdant oasis, complete with live botanical displays and bartenders crafting bespoke cocktails with fresh herbs. Johnnie Walker's whisky lounge exuded an air of sophisticated elegance, with plush leather seating, dim lighting, and a curated selection of rare blends. Toki's highball station was a minimalist masterpiece, showcasing the clean, crisp flavors of Japanese whisky with sleek, modern design and their concept Toki-o nights which was heavily inspired by music. And Glenmorangie’s setup was a vibrant, beach-themed extravaganza, with bright colors, tropical decorations, and a lively, party atmosphere.

"Wow, they've really gone all out," Jane commented, her eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of admiration and professional curiosity. "The competition is fierce."

"Tell me about it," you agreed, noting the intricate details of each brand's activation. "But I think we've got the edge. Our bar is both stylish and functional. A perfect balance of aesthetic and practicality."

Jimin nodded enthusiastically. "And the cocktails are killer," he added, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I may have sampled a few myself, just to ensure quality control, of course."

“No wonder the bar team was giving me knowing looks,” You rolled your eyes playfully. "Of course," you said, chuckling. "Just don't get too carried away."

"Never," Jimin said, feigning innocence.

You all moved towards a photo booth where a long queue was forming, attendees eager to capture the moment. "Look at the line," you said, impressed. "That's a great sign. We’ll definitely come back later when it's less crowded. Perfect for some social media content."

Returning to the Don Julio bar, the music grew louder, more insistent. The band from the previous night was performing again, their sound filling the space with a raw, soulful energy. The stage was conveniently located right next to the Don Julio bar. Your eyes were drawn to the lead singer - it was the same dude from the Italian restaurant. He was completely immersed in the music, his voice a powerful, melodic rumble that resonated through the venue.

Musicians have always been your weakness.

He really is talented, you thought, watching him move across the stage with an effortless grace. And incredibly handsome. You couldn't help but notice the way his checkered shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, and the way his doe eyes, even from a distance, seemed to hold a spark of something intense.

He didn't seem to notice you, thankfully, his focus entirely on the performance. You quickly turned your attention back to the bar, trying to shake off the unexpected flutter in your chest. Focus, ___. you told yourself, mentally running through the checklist of tasks. You have a job to do.

But even as you worked, adjusting bottles, straightening napkins, your eyes kept drifting back to the stage. There was something about him, something familiar and intriguing, that you couldn't quite ignore. The feeling was a gentle hum beneath the surface of your thoughts, a quiet reminder of the unexpected encounters that had marked the beginning of your New York adventure.

Jane, noticing your gaze, exchanged a knowing look with Jimin. They both smirked, but thankfully, refrained from any overt teasing. They knew you were still processing a lot, and a playful jab might not be well-received. Instead, Jane subtly nudged you with her elbow, a silent acknowledgment of your obvious unspoken attraction.

"Everything alright, boss lady?" Jimin asked, his voice laced with a playful undertone, trying hard to keep his gaze fixed on the bar.

"Fine," you said, a little too quickly. "Just… admiring the music. I’m all about the music you know that,"

"Sure you are," Jane mumbled under her breath, a playful glint in her eyes to which Jimin couldn’t help but chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a small smile. Maybe a little distraction wouldn't hurt, you thought, a flicker of something like excitement igniting within you. But first, work.

By 4 PM, the venue had transformed into a pulsating hub of activity, a kaleidoscope of branded experiences and eager attendees. The clients, Dominic and Sarah, arrived, their eyes alight with a blend of professional scrutiny and genuine excitement. They'd been privy to the meticulously curated visuals you'd sent, but witnessing the Don Julio bar in its full glory was an entirely different experience.

"___, this is… exceptional," Dominic declared, his voice booming across the space, cutting through the ambient noise like a well-tuned bassline. "You've truly captured the essence of the brand."

"The lighting, the glassware, the sheer artistry of the cocktails," Sarah added, her eyes tracing the intricate details of the bar's design. "It's a masterpiece. You guys have outdone yourselves,"

You managed a smile, a mixture of relief and pride washing over you. "Thank you," you said, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Jimin, Jane and I wanted to create an immersive experience, something that resonated with the spirit of Don Julio and what better than personalised Don Julio skull mugs,"

The next few hours were a blur of client interactions, strategic small talk, and the relentless monitoring of the bar's operation. You, despite your innate aversion to superficial conversations, navigated the social labyrinth with practiced ease. It was a necessary evil, a performance required for the success of the event.

"So, Sarah," you began, steering the conversation towards the broader festival experience, "what are your impressions of the other brand activations?"

"They're all… interesting," she replied, her tone carefully neutral. "But I am also a little biased,” You chuckled. “Don Julio has a certain… sophistication. It's not just about the spectacle; it's about the experience."

"Precisely," you said, nodding in agreement. "We wanted to create a space where attendees could truly appreciate the craftsmanship and heritage of the brand."

As the evening wore on, a subtle sense of disappointment began to creep in. Your eyes, despite your best efforts, kept drifting towards the stage, searching for a familiar figure. The musician, with his soulful voice and captivating presence, was conspicuously absent. Maybe he's performing with his band tomorrow, you thought, trying to quell the rising tide of disappointment. It's a two-day festival, after all.

By 7 PM, the disappointment had solidified into a quiet ache, a subtle undercurrent beneath the surface of your professional composure. You continued to circulate, engaging with clients, ensuring their glasses were filled and their questions answered, but the absence of the musician cast a shadow over the evening.

The first day of the Mix Fest drew to a close at 10 PM, the venue slowly emptying as attendees filtered out, their voices echoing through the cavernous space. Exhausted but undeniably satisfied, you, Jane, and Jimin made your way back to The Ludlow.

"I'm going to hit the spa," you announced, a wave of weariness washing over you. "Anyone care to join me?"

"I'm beat brother," Jane said, stretching her arms above her head, her spine cracking audibly. "I'm going straight to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Same here," Jimin agreed, stifling a yawn. "But have a good one!"

The spa was a sanctuary of tranquility, a haven of warmth and soothing aromas. The humid air enveloped you like a comforting embrace, easing the tension in your muscles. You closed your eyes, letting the gentle heat work its magic, the day's stresses melting away.

After a long session in the steam room, you emerged, your skin glowing, your mind clear. You wandered towards the relaxation area, a dimly lit space with plush loungers and soft, ambient music. And that's when you saw him. Soobin.

He was sprawled across one of the loungers, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. He looked good, you had to admit, the dim light casting his features in a flattering glow.

"Soobin?" you said, your voice a soft whisper, a mix of surprise and mild amusement.

His eyes fluttered open, a slow, slightly disoriented smile spreading across his face. "___? What a… surprise."

"Surprise?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow, a hint of playful skepticism in your voice. "You're here for the festival?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting up, his movements a little stiff. " I am visiting few friends here so we decided to check the fest. I'm a big fan of the… music scene here. And the… atmosphere." He said the last word with a strange emphasis.

You chuckled, a dry, almost cynical sound. "Of course," you said, your eyes narrowing slightly.

Soobin was your second "situationship," or a failed talking stage if you wanted to call it that. A brief but intense connection that had almost blossomed into something more. You'd been genuinely drawn to him, intrigued by his quiet intensity and his thoughtful demeanor. But he was always a little… hesitant, a little unsure. And you, still reeling from the aftermath of your relationship with Mingyu, were equally reluctant to fully commit.

An awkward silence descended, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the spa's ambient music. Soobin shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding your eyes.

"So," he began, his voice strained, "how have you been?"

"Good," you replied, keeping your tone casual, your expression carefully neutral. "Busy with work, as always."

"Right. ___ the boss lady" he said, nodding slowly, his eyes still avoiding yours. "The festival… it's quite something, isn't it?"

"It is," you agreed, your voice flat.

Another awkward silence stretched between you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, a mixture of curiosity and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher.

"You look… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze finally meeting yours.

"Thanks," you said, a flicker of something like irritation flashing through you. "You too."

He was still attractive, you had to admit, but the spark that had once flickered between you had dimmed, replaced by a sense of awkwardness and unspoken regrets.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia.

"It has," you agreed, your voice cool.

God this was painfully awkward. If only Jane and Jimin were here with you now. They would have saved you from whatever this was but also would have a blast making fun of this situation.

"We should… catch up sometime," he suggested, his voice hesitant, his eyes searching for your agreement.

"Maybe," you said, noncommittally, your gaze drifting towards the exit.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words, a lingering sense of what could have been. You felt a wave of weariness wash over you, the day's events finally catching up. You wanted to escape, to retreat to the solitude of your room, to process the unexpected encounter.

"Well," you said, rising to your feet, "I should probably get going. It's been a long day."

"Right," he said, nodding slowly, his expression a mixture of disappointment and resignation. "Yeah, of course."

You turned to leave, a sense of relief washing over you. The encounter had been awkward, uncomfortable, a reminder of a chapter you'd thought you'd closed. As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if this was a sign, a second chance. Or just another unexpected, slightly uncomfortable, encounter in the whirlwind of your New York adventure. You decided, at that moment, that you were going to go to sleep and not think about it any more.

Life has genuinely been weird since last two days.

DAY 2 - NYC MIX FEST

The aftershocks of the past two days lingered, a subtle tremor in the usually steady rhythm of your life. Sleep, a fickle companion, had been a patchwork of disjointed dreams and the persistent echo of Mingyu's voice. Then the encounter with Soobin in the spa, though brief, had left a faint, unpleasant aftertaste, a reminder of unfinished chapters.

Waking up late, you felt a strange sense of detachment, a subtle disconnect from the day's impending chaos. A glance at your phone revealed the time – 12:00 PM. Damn, you thought, a wave of mild panic washing over you. You were never late. You were always meticulously punctual. 

New York definitely has had its effect on you.

Rushing through your morning routine, you arrived at the venue at 12:45 PM, a minute that felt like an eternity. Jane and Jimin were already deep in conversation near the Don Julio bar, their laughter echoing through the near-empty space.

“Jane! You didn’t wake me up,” You said in anger, although it wasn’t serious. Day 2 of the fest was supposed to be chill so you weren’t that worried.

It’s just bad habits that die hard.

“Hey!!” Jane exclaimed. “I was letting you rest, knowing you work like a machine,” She said feigning innocence. Now who could say no to that face?

You just playfully rolled your eyes at her and she chuckled.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," Jimin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Did you finally decide to sleep in?"

"Sorry," you mumbled, a blush creeping up your neck. "I overslept. I had a rough night."

"It's fine," Jane said, waving a dismissive hand. "We were just about to grab some lunch. Come on, you can catch up on the gossip."

Over a quick lunch of festival fare, the three of you discussed the previous day's events, the client feedback, and the general buzz of the festival. You kept your encounter with Soobin to yourself, not wanting to rehash the awkwardness but knowing sooner or later, you were gonna spill it for them. You just had to make sure that you would be staying away from the hotel spa.

"So," Jane said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "did you manage to spot your mystery musician?"

You shook your head, a flicker of disappointment crossing your face. "No, not yet. I'm starting to think he's a figment of my imagination."

"Maybe he's saving his grand entrance for today," Jimin suggested, winking. "You know, building suspense."

After lunch, you decided to take a walk around the venue, hoping to clear your head and shake off the lingering sense of unease. You were still feeling slightly off-kilter, a little out of sync with your usual self. 

Just thinking about the last two days. They had been wild and went so fast. You had finally broken away from the shackles of your relationship with Mingyu, felt yourself returning, the Jay and Soobin interaction. So much had happened.

You still felt alone. 

Looking around the fest, you saw couples around you mingling with each other and just having fun and living life and you felt a bittersweet feeling. When was it gonna be my turn? is the only thought that crossed your mind.

You were successful in your career, decent looking yet love was the only part of your life that wasn’t figured out. Actually you had it figured out for a long time when you were Mingyu, almost even thought you would marry him – Yeah no, not that thought.

As you rounded a corner near the main stage, you bumped into someone, sending a set of drumsticks clattering to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you blurted out, instinctively bending down to help pick them up.

Was it the musician?

Looking up, you realized it wasn't the musician, but another member of his band. He was tall, with a warm, friendly smile and a pair of intelligent eyes. You felt a wave of disappointment, quickly suppressed.

"No, it's okay," he said, his voice deep and melodic. "Don't worry about it. It was my fault."

"I seem to be bumping into everyone lately," you said, a wry smile playing on your lips. "It's becoming a bit of a theme."

He chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "It's a busy place. Easy to get turned around."

You noticed the drumsticks in his hand. "Are you performing here?" you asked, gesturing towards the main stage.

"Yeah," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "We're called Sunrise Boulevard."

"Oh, cool," you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I'll have to check you out. What time is your set?"

"Please do," he said, handing you the drumsticks. "Let me know what you think. We play at 7PM! This is our first big gig,” He said with excitement. It was infectious.

"I will," you promised.

"I'm Namjoon," he said, extending his hand.

"___," you replied, shaking his hand.

You introduced yourself, and he told you a little about the band, their music, and their journey. You explained your role in the Don Julio activation. You found yourself enjoying the conversation, his easygoing charm a welcome distraction from your earlier anxieties.

“Drinks on me, okay,” You laughed and told me.

“I’ll hold you to that,” He smirked.

Jane, who had been watching from a distance, approached, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Who's this?" she asked, her voice laced with playful curiosity.

"This is Namjoon," you said, introducing them. "He's the drummer for Sunrise Boulevard."

"Nice to meet you," Jane said, extending her hand, her smile widening.

"You too," Namjoon replied, his smile equally bright.

Jane seemed particularly interested in Namjoon, her questions flowing easily, her laughter light and genuine. You watched them interact, a sense of amusement mixing with a quiet sense of relief. 

Both Jimin and you saw her tuck her hair while talking to him and smirked. Classic tell-a-tale sign when Jane is interested in someone.

At least someone was having a good time.

After a few minutes, Jane and Namjoon exchanged numbers, and he headed towards the stage for soundcheck. Jane returned to the Don Julio bar, a satisfied grin on her face.

"So," Jimin said, raising an eyebrow, "who was that?"

"That was Namjoon," Jane replied, her cheeks flushed. "He's the drummer for Sunrise Boulevard. They're playing today."

"And?" you asked, a playful smirk on your face.

"And," Jane said, rolling her eyes, "they're a rookie band. This is their first big festival. They're really good, though. You should check them out."

"A rookie band, huh?" Jimin said, his eyes twinkling. "Sounds interesting."

"They are," Jane insisted. "And he's really nice."

"Someone's got a crush," you teased, nudging Jane's arm.

"Shut up," she said, blushing. "I just think they deserve some support."

"Of course you do," Jimin said, chuckling. "We'll definitely check them out."

You made sure to stay away from the hotel spa and any areas where you might run into Soobin. You had no desire to relive that awkward encounter. You were here to work, to enjoy the festival, and to finally see Sunrise Boulevard perform. You decided to make sure to keep an eye out for Namjoon and his band’s set.

With the overwhelming amount of crowd at the Don Julio bar, you didn’t even realise that it was almost 7PM. 

Once the clock struck 7PM, you could see the majority of the crowd gathering near the stage. And they thought they were rookie. You helped the bartending team while bringing in some ingredients for the cocktails when you heard the most angelic possible voice.

“Oh my god, the lead singer is so handsome,” You heard a few girls fangirl (?) and you glanced towards the stage, curious to see what all the fuss was about, and to see if the band was really as good as Jane had said.

The stage lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows across the eager crowd. A hush fell over the venue as the band members took their positions. Then, a voice, smooth and confident, cut through the silence.

"Hey everyone, I'm JK, lead singer of Sunrise Boulevard, and this is our band!" He gestured towards his bandmates. "On guitar, Taehyung! On drums, Namjoon! On bass, Hoseok! And on keyboard, Yoongi!" The rest of them waved towards the crowd which got them screaming.

The crowd erupted in applause as they launched into their first song, a sultry, rock-infused rendition of Chase Atlantic's "Swim." JK’s voice, laced with a hint of smoky allure, filled the space, captivating the audience. The band's energy was palpable, their performance a blend of raw intensity and polished precision.

After the Chase Atlantic cover, they transitioned into their original songs. The first, "City Lights," was a driving pop-rock anthem with a catchy chorus, reminiscent of early 2000s alternative rock. The second, "Lost in the Echoes," had a more introspective feel, with JK’s vocals soaring over a melancholic melody, showcasing his impressive range. For a third song, they played "Crimson Sky," a high-energy rock song with a powerful guitar riff, getting the crowd to jump and sing along.

As the set progressed, you found yourself drawn into their performance, despite your professional focus. JK’s stage presence was undeniable, his charisma radiating from the stage. The kind of presence that demanded attention. You noticed his eyes scanning the crowd, and for a fleeting moment, you thought they lingered on you. You quickly looked away, a blush creeping up your neck, trying to focus on the busy bar.

Yeah no, not the time to be delusional.

As the band finished their third song, JK stepped forward, a slight smile playing on his lips. "We have one more song for you tonight," he announced, his voice soft, yet carrying through the venue. "It's a little different from our usual style. I wrote it recently, and it's called 'Still With You.'"

The crowd cheered as the band launched into the song. It was a slower, more soulful ballad, JK’s voice filled with raw emotion. The song's lyrics, a heartfelt expression of longing and vulnerability, resonated with the audience, creating a quiet, intimate atmosphere. You found yourself captivated by his performance, his voice weaving a spell around you, cutting through the noise of the festival.

As the set ended, JK's eyes swept across the crowd once more. This time, you were sure they lingered on you. He held your gaze for a moment, a subtle intensity in his eyes, then looked away, a slight smile playing on his lips. You tried to dismiss it as a coincidence, but a flutter of excitement stirred within you.

Lord, New York was something else.

The band exited the stage, and you returned to the Don Julio bar, helping the team with the rush of customers. A few minutes later, Namjoon approached, JK trailing slightly behind him, hands in his pockets.

Namjoon hopped onto an empty stool, a slightly sheepish grin on his face. "Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "So, uh, how'd we do?"

You chuckled, wiping down the counter. "You guys were great. Seriously. The crowd loved you."

"Yeah?" Namjoon asked, a hint of relief in his voice. "We were kinda nervous. First big festival and all."

"You wouldn't have known it," you assured him. "You guys looked completely at home up there."

"That's good to hear," he said, nodding. "We put a lot of work into this set. Especially JK, he was stressing about the Chase Atlantic cover."

"It was a bold choice," you said, glancing at JK, who was leaning against the bar, observing the crowd. "But it worked. It really set the tone."

"He's always pushing  to try new things," Namjoon said, rolling his eyes playfully. "Sometimes it drives us crazy, but I guess it pays off."

"It definitely did tonight," you said, smiling. "Especially that last song, 'Still With You'. It was beautiful."

JK finally spoke, his voice low and smooth. "Thank you," he said, meeting your gaze. "It means a lot."

"No, really," you said, turning back to Namjoon. "You guys have a really unique sound. It's not just another pop-rock band."

"That's what we're going for," Namjoon said, nodding. "We want to stand out."

"You definitely do," you said, grabbing a bottle of tequila. "So, what can I get you guys? Drinks are on me, remember?" 

"Oh, right!" Namjoon said, snapping his fingers. "I almost forgot. I'll take a... what are you having?"

“Oh,” You chuckled. “I don’t drink and besides I’m at work so,” You managed to say which earned you a look from JK.

“So what will you guys have? Want me to suggest?” You diverted the topic.

“Yes please,” Namjoon smiled. You looked over the menu and suggested ‘Don Paloma’ and ‘Don Picante’ to the two of them. 

“Wow you know your cocktails,” JK said while having that look. The look that made you nervous.

“I wouldn’t be doing a good job at work if I didn’t,” You chuckled.

As you placed the order to the bar team, you noticed Jane and Jimin coming your way. You immediately saw Namjoon smile at that.

Yeah you and Jimin have to clock that.

The conversation then continued to flow easily, but you couldn't shake the feeling that JK was watching you, his gaze lingering, but in a way that felt more curious than intrusive. You felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness, unsure of what to make of his attention, but the conversation with the rest of them felt like a welcome buffer.

Namjoon grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know what? We're running low on drinks for the band. Let's grab another round."

"Good idea," Jane chimed in, nodding towards the bar. "We wouldn't want anyone getting thirsty."

You watched them go, a knowing smile playing on your lips. Smooth. But hey, who were you to judge?

Jimin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly stood. "Uh, I need to… check on some, uh, thing," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "See you guys later."

Yeah you were cursing him in your mind.

He practically bolted, leaving you and JK alone. "Well," you said, turning to JK, "that was… awkward.”

He chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "He's probably checking on the drinks too, you know, to make sure they're… properly distributed,”

He paused, then gestured towards the festival grounds. "Want to go for a walk? Check out the place? See if we can find anything?” 

“You sure? Aren’t you tired?” You asked him genuinely. After that performance anyone would be tired.

"Yes I’m sure,"  he smiled.

As you walked, JK pointed towards the brightly lit Ferris wheel. "Ferris wheel," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "A classic." 

"Isn't that a little… cliché?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like, straight out of a rom-com?"

"Sometimes cliché is good," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Besides, it's a great view. And who knows, maybe we’ll have a rom-com moment of our own."

You raised your eyebrow and chuckled.

“Yeah sorry that was bad,” He shook his head and laughed.

“Oh wait, I didn't introduce myself. I’m Jungkook,” He put his hand forward for a handshake. “And I’m ___”, You smiled as you shook hands with him.

As you walked ahead, Jungkook's eyes widened. "Wait a minute," he said, snapping his fingers. "You're the girl from the airport!"

"What? What airport?" you asked, feigning confusion, though a flicker of recognition sparked in your mind.

"Yeah, you were… a bit overwhelmed," he said, his eyes twinkling. "And you're also the girl from the Italian place."

"Yeah, that I am," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "Small world, huh?" He remembers. And he remembers the details. That’s… unexpected.

Yeah no, you weren’t going to delude yourself.

As you rode the Ferris wheel, the city lights spread out below you, a dazzling panorama. "It's beautiful," you murmured, gazing at the view. "I've never been to New York before."

"Really?" Jungkook asked, his eyes widening slightly. "First time?"

"Yeah," you said, a hint of wonder in your voice. "It's… overwhelming, in a good way."

He nodded.

You talked about your dreams, your work, your passions. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s a good listener. Not something you find every day. Or ever.

“So where have you been till now?” He asked as the two of you exited the ferris wheel. “Uh, honestly? Nowhere,” You shrugged. “We came on Friday and have been working since then. We still have tomorrow to explore,” You smiled and told him.

“Any places you could suggest though?” You asked as you thanked the person managing the ferris wheel not noticing the smug grin on Jungkook’s face for what he was about to say next.

"Well," he said, his voice a low murmur, "I can show you around. Show you the real New York. The places the tourists don't know about."

He’s smooth. You will have to give him that.

“You can?” You raised your eyebrows to which he nodded.

He’s definitely flirting. And you are definitely not complaining.

Since the ferris wheel ride ended, and you stepped back onto solid ground, the city lights beginning to fade into the background as you re-entered the heart of the festival. That was… nice, you thought, a small smile playing on your lips. As you continued your walk, the conversation flowed easily, naturally transitioning to the various brand activations scattered throughout the grounds. You pointed out a particularly eye-catching display, discussing its marketing strategies and potential impact. 

"Wow," Jungkook said, genuinely impressed. "How do you know so much?"

"It'd be funny if I didn't," you replied, a wry smile playing on your lips. "These are my clients. And potential clients. It's kind of my job to know."

He seems to be impressed.

As you walked, you began to get to know each other. "So, you're from Seoul, right?" Jungkook asked, his eyes curious.

"Yeah, born and raised," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "Been working with Black Media Marketing for two years now. We handle a lot of brand activations, events, that kind of thing."

"That's impressive," Jungkook said, nodding. "It must be exciting working with so many different brands."

"It is," you agreed, a smile playing on your lips. "It's always something new."

"And you?" you asked. "You're from Busan, right?"

"Yeah, that's home," he said, a soft smile spreading across his face. "The band was created there," he continued proudly.

"You guys were amazing tonight," you said, genuinely impressed by the crowd's reaction. "The crowd was wild."

"Thanks," he said, a hint of pride in his voice, but also a touch of modesty. "It was a good crowd. We're still getting used to this kind of response."

"Getting used to it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You guys were like… rock stars."

He chuckled. "We're just a few guys who love making music. It's great to see people enjoying it."

You spotted a photo booth, a long line snaking its way towards it. "Damn," you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. "I wanted to go there. Couldn't even get in yesterday."

Jungkook simply looked at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. He’s quiet. Too quiet. What’s he thinking?

As you walked, you spotted Soobin in the distance, talking to a group of people. You both made eye contact for a brief moment, then quickly looked away. Awkward. Just… awkward.

"I'm actually here only for a day more," you said, breaking the silence, the thought of your limited time in the city suddenly feeling more pressing.

"Oh," he replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "we've got to make the most of it then."

You were taken aback a little. Not that you minded it.

"So," he asked, his voice low, "I'll see you tomorrow?" You paused, a playful smile playing on your lips. He’s asking you out. And  you can’t help but want to say yes. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "I'd like that."

The next morning you smiled as you woke up. It had been a while you woke up like that.

You immediately took your phone from the nightstand and saw a text from him.

Now when did he save his name as that? Oh yeah when he dropped you off at the hotel last night and you exchanged numbers.

Jane was not in the room when you came back from whatever it is that you and Jungkook had going on last night.

You turned around to see Jane fast asleep on her bed. 

Guess you weren’t the only one who had a great time last night.

You didn’t want to enter into something too fast. Hell, you had finally found your way out from the shackles of Mingyu and even Soobin for that matter. You definitely didn’t want to ruin things - if there was even anything, with Jungkook.

You were just gonna see how things go. Yeah.

Getting out of your thoughts, you replied back to Jungkook.

Yeah definitely shouldn’t have said that.

This all you saw for the next two minutes which felt like hours.

Great, just great. 

What felt like eternity, you heard your phone ting with a notification of a new message.

You immediately opened his chat, hoping to see you haven’t embarrassed yourself yet. Lord, please.

Well thank god for that.

With a big smile on your face, you take out your comfiest pair of jeans, crop top and a leather jacket and go for your shower.

Today was going to be good. You had a feeling.

As you exited the elevator, you saw Jungkook waiting in the lobby, leaning against a marble pillar, dressed casually in a faded denim jacket, dark jeans, and sneakers. His hair, slightly tousled, caught the morning light. He looked effortlessly cool. He smiled as he saw you, a warm, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Ready for what could possibly be the best day of your life?"

"Is it? The stakes seem high,”  you smirked and said, slipping your hand into his. His hand was warm, his grip firm but gentle. His touch, a familiar warmth, a promise of adventure.

He led you out onto the busy street, the air thick with the smell of exhaust fumes and hot pretzels. The sounds of the city surrounded you—the honking of taxis, the rumble of buses, the chatter of pedestrians. "Central Park first," he said, nodding towards the green expanse.

The park was a welcome break from the city's intensity. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of towering oak trees, dappling the paths with patches of light and shadow. You walked, the sounds of the city fading into a background hum, replaced by the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. He pointed out quiet spots, little details you wouldn’t have noticed on your own—a hidden fountain, a secluded bench, a patch of wildflowers.

"I used to come here a lot," he said, stopping by a small pond where ducks paddled lazily. "When I needed to… get away. Just to think."

“I have a similar place. In Seoul,” You reminisce and share with him.

You then stopped at a hot dog stand, the aroma of grilled onions and mustard filling the air. "Hungry?" he asked, grinning.

"Starving," you admitted, your stomach audibly rumbling.

You got two hot dogs, laughing as you struggled with the mustard and sauerkraut, the tangy smell making your mouth water. "This is a mess," you said, wiping your hands with a napkin.

He chuckled, gently wiping a smudge of mustard from your cheek with his thumb. "Yeah, but it's good." His touch was light, but it sent a little shiver down your spine, a warmth spreading through your chest. His eyes held yours, and for a moment, the bustling city faded away.

“So when do you come back to Seoul?” You ask, curious. 

“Just one more show in NYC, and we are back,” He smiles and tells you.

He then takes you to a  speakeasy tucked behind an unassuming bookstore, where they sip on cocktails under dim, moody lighting. A rooftop that offers an exclusive view of the skyline, one he swears is better than any observation deck. 

And then a  tiny, family-run vinyl shop where you flip through records together, fingers brushing occasionally as the two of you reach for the same one.

That’s when the conversation shifts.

The two of you talk about your mutual love for music. How it’s always been more than just sound for you—how it’s an experience, an emotion, a story in itself. 

“Ever since I was a kid, I used to collect CDs or cassettes of any new album that came out. If it was new, I just had to have it,” You chuckled and reminisced. 

However you did notice an expression on Jungkook’s face. That made you feel something that you haven’t felt in a while.

You also tell him about the concerts you have attended, the ones you have worked on, how you are drawn to the artistry of it all.  He listens intently, eyes never leaving yours. 

Then, he shares his own journey—his struggles, his passion, the moments that made him fall in love with music all over again.

“You know, when I started out, I had no idea what I was doing,” he admits with a small chuckle, leaning back against the vinyl shelves. “I mean, I loved music, but I didn’t think I’d ever actually make something people would listen to.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “So what changed?”

He exhales, glancing down at a record in his hands. “I met people who believed in me more than I did. And eventually, I had to start believing too.” He looks up at you then, a quiet intensity in his gaze. “It wasn’t easy, though. I’ve had moments where I wanted to quit, where I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough. But every time I step on stage, every time I write something that actually means something to me… it reminds me why I started.”

You watch him, the way his fingers tap lightly against the record’s cover, the way his voice carries that underlying passion. “That’s incredible,” you murmur. “I think that’s why I love music so much. It’s raw. It’s real. And it connects people in ways nothing else can.”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Exactly.”

There’s an understanding between the two of you, something unspoken yet deeply felt.

Before the night ends, he tugs you toward a small photo booth tucked away in a side street.

“Come on, let’s make it official. Proof that I was the best New York tour guide,” he jokes, but there’s a softness in his gaze.

Inside, the space is small, forcing you both closer than before. The first picture is casual, both of you grinning. The second, a silly face-off. The third? A little more still. You are both just… looking at each other, lips parted slightly, something lingering in the air between them. And the fourth—well, he doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm around you, pulling you just a tad bit closer.

When the strip of photos prints out, you take one, he keeps the other. Neither of you say much about the moment, but you both know something has shifted.

The city starts to feel quieter as he walks you back to your hotel. You both stop just outside the entrance of your hotel, the hum of the streets still buzzing around them. He shifts on his feet before finally speaking up.

“I had a good time today,” You smile. You meant it.

“Me too. Had the best time,” Jungkook looks in your eyes. The kind of look that says he doesn’t want to let go. You knew that because you were feeling the same way.

And then,

“___” He calls out your name and you look at him.

He seems nervous when he says this. “Can I take you out for real? Once we’re in Seoul?” His voice holds a mix of hesitation and confidence, as if he already knows the answer but still wants to hear it from you.

Is this really happening?

Then, after a beat, he adds, “I know this is fast, but I just… I don’t know, I want to explore whatever this is.”

You don't reply immediately, just look at him, your heart pounding against your ribs. Then, with a shy nod, you managed to say, “Yeah. Me too,”

A slow smile spreads across his face.

He looks even more endearing with this genuine smile of his.

Guess you both were the kind of people who wanted to take risks and not have regrets later.

He leans in, pressing a soft peck against your cheek before pulling back.

“Goodnight.”

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you standing there with your fingers grazing the spot where his lips had been, your heart still racing, your mind already replaying the night over and over again.

A week later, you wake up with a text. The kind of text that makes you gushy like a teenager.

And before you could respond to him, you received another text. a series of texts rather.

While the two of them continued to bicker, you had to reply back to him.

Maybe love really doesn’t disappear. Maybe it just reverbs—waiting for the right moment to be heard again.

And maybe it was finally your time.

Once you had reached their room, surprisingly it was quite mellow which wasn’t normal for your family at all. You were quite used to the arguments, the drama.

“What are you guys doing? Everyone’s asking about you all,” You were confused. Why were your parents smiling? This can't be good. You immediately looked at Taehyung and the annoyed expression on his face told you what you needed to know.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“You know what? I’ll speak to Jihoon once,” Taehyung said casually to your parents.

“Good,” Your father said, satisfied and your mom smiled.

“Um,” Yeah this is definitely not good. “About what exactly?” You asked, looking at the three of them.

“Come on Tae, tell your sister,” Your mother said proudly.

“Mom, please. Let me talk to Jihoon first,” Taehyung said. This cannot be good at all. You know how this ends.

“Mom,” You said sternly.

“Taehyung and Jihoon,” Your mom smiled and pointed towards her ring finger. They were doing it again. History was in fact repeating itself.

You sighed.

“What the hell are you guys upto?” You said annoyed. “Tae, have you lost your mind?”

Taehyung had already given up. You could see it on his face.

“Lost our mind? Honey, they are made for each other,” Your father’s voice rang in your ears. He was happy. They both were which only fueled your anger. They were doing it again.

“Yeah, dad, you had said that about me and Eunwoo too and now I want to divorce him,” You lashed out.

Oh my god. You had said it. Out loud.

What the fuck?

All you were met with were very shocked three faces.

Fuck.

You immediately panicked and left the room.

Taehyung had already followed you outside while you stood on the deck trying to manage the panic of your own actions.

“What was that __?” He asked. He was confused. Rightfully so because you didn’t expect to lash out. You were always level headed.

“Nothing,” That’s the only thing you could manage saying. 

“If you thought your luck was bad now, I wonder what you would say now,” 

Taehyung’s voice, matter-of-fact as he was, sent your panic into overdrive. You were utterly confused. Things could not get worse than they were right now. You were sure of it. This was rock bottom.

But life always finds a way to fuck with you. 

You knew you were doomed when you followed Taehyun’s gaze. The breeze shifted, salty and sharp, carrying the faint sound of laughter from somewhere behind you — too light for how heavy your chest felt.

Years have passed but your feelings clearly haven’t.

You saw him. The guy who was once your everything.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.

He looked a little mature, the years had been kind to him. The same doe eyes, the same smile, that once were a source of your comfort.

Your stomach twisted. You couldn’t think of things like these. You weren’t allowed to.

You were married to Eunwoo. That was your reality and not the past that you suddenly found yourself standing in again.

You had moved on in every sense in front of the world - in your career, in love - but deep within, there was still that twenty-two-year-old you who was grieving. The one robbed of her happiness.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” It was Taehyung’s voice that broke you out of the trance. You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at the sea this whole time. The salt air bit at your skin, grounding you, reminding you where you were — and where you weren’t.

You nodded.

It was obvious he didn’t believe you. You definitely weren’t okay. Still, Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, and the warmth of his hug cut through the chill that had settled in your bones. Sometimes it felt like Taehyung was the oldest out of the two of you.

Thankfully, Jungkook hadn’t seen you. He’d already disappeared into the lobby of the cruise ship.

The cruise. A week that was supposed to be a getaway was slowly, yet easily, turning into the worst possible idea.

It was your parents’ 30th wedding anniversary — and somehow, the ocean felt too small for everything you’d left unresolved.

“I think he’s staying the whole time,” Taehyung murmured against your hair, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. 

Before you could react, you saw Eunwoo coming towards you with that practiced smile of his.

“There you are, honey. Everyone’s asking for you and we’re already late for today’s activities,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled, the perfect husband on paper. The touch on your arm was possessive, a warm, heavy weight that reminded you of your wedding ring and the vows you had sworn to uphold. You automatically slipped on the facade you’d been wearing for the last 3 years: the successful businesswoman, the loving wife. You forced a bright, wide smile that was perfected over the years.

 “Of course. Let’s go.” Every step toward the lobby felt like walking straight into the mouth of the past.

The anxiety in you was still there. It had barely left anyway.

Before you had seen Jungkook, well, it was complicated.

You wanted to divorce Eunwoo. Not because of Jungkook - far from that actually. The two of you weren't compatible. You knew that and you thought somewhere he did too, but he just didn’t want to accept it.

Once you entered the lobby you could see Jungkook at the reception, probably getting his key card. You didn’t want to be this aware of him. You had to make a plan to avoid him. That seemed like the only logical way out before you got time to think things through.

Eunwoo's hand was on the small of your back now, guiding you with practiced, proprietary ease toward the heart of the ship. The air in the lobby was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low, murmuring soundtrack of the wealthy social set. You forced your head up, navigating the glittering crowd as the successful, loving wife.

You saw him again, standing exactly where he was moments ago. Jungkook.

He was still at the reception desk, waiting. This was not a quick passing; this was a deliberate walk toward a collision point. Your gaze automatically locked onto his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the desk. He was laughing softly at something the receptionist had said. You remembered that laugh—a low, resonant sound that always started deep in his chest.

Look forward. Don't look at him. Breathe.

Every fiber of your being screamed at you to stop, to turn, to bolt back to the deck, but Eunwoo's hand was a firm anchor. You had to look anywhere but at him. You focused on the gold lettering of the reception sign, the floral arrangement on the counter, the movement of the cruise staff.

But as you drew level with the desk, Eunwoo paused slightly to exchange a word with your relatives. It was just a second, but it was too long.

Jungkook finally turned.

Fate was definitely not on your side today.

His eyes, those unmistakable doe eyes, lifted from the key card in his hand and met yours.

The world went silent. The music, the laughter, Eunwoo’s breathing—it all disappeared.

He didn't give you the smile of the past, nor the cool indifference of a stranger. It was a look of pure, complex recognition: shock, a flash of something you couldn’t name but knew all too well and then, slowly, a careful, polite blankness that was the cruelest shield of all.

You felt the muscles in your jaw ache from holding your forced smile, and you realized you hadn't stopped smiling at all. You were beaming right through the heart-stopping trauma.

“Darling?” Eunwoo prompted, his hand pressing a little firmer.

You felt your throat constrict, the perfect reply trapped behind years of silence. You were one breath away from shattering the entire facade.

But the moment had  passed. Jungkook dipped his head once, a brief, formal social courtesy, as if acknowledging a distant acquaintance, and then turned back to the counter.

You took a staggered breath, the stolen, shallow air tasting of salt and panic. You didn't acknowledge him back. You couldn't.

“Just admiring the arrangement,” you managed, your voice only slightly tight. You pulled your attention fully to Eunwoo and let him guide you away, leaving Jungkook behind, physically, but not a single other way.

The only thing you were certain of was that, whether it was the past, the present, or the future, your life was officially in freefall.

Days passed to weeks and finally today was Jungkook’s farewell party. Official one today and the unofficial one - just with the survivors - this weekend. It was Friday today. 

You honestly didn’t feel anything. It wasn’t that deep – you remember telling Yuna when you all had started planning Jungkook’s farewell.

“__ did you order the cake for tomorrow?” Jin’s question brought you out of your daze. Seeing you a little startled and coming back in the moment, he chuckled a bit. 

You smiled politely and nodded your head. You had indeed ordered the cake. His favourite - chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. Thank god you didn’t order too many desserts - he has this questionable habit of mixing every dessert. You gagged at that one memory. 

Everyone trusted Jungkook when it came to food but yeah not desserts. 

You had in fact ordered the cake which you think he would really like.

Natasha had just entered the office and automatically the air in the office had changed. Wow, you were feeling really dramatic today!

She swept past your desk, a faint scent of expensive perfume trailing behind her. Without breaking her stride, she paused just enough for her voice to carry, cool and precise. "Hope the farewell committee is as efficient with their actual work today, ___," she said, her eyes flicking to yours for a split second before moving on. "We still have a business to run."

The words weren't aimed directly at you, but the implication hung heavy, a subtle jab at the collective buzz of Jungkook's departure. You straightened, feigning deep concentration on your screen, but your jaw tightened. It was Friday, and all that was on your mind was getting through these last few hours. You told yourself it was about the event, the smooth execution, the professional pride. Not about him. Definitely not about him.

Just then, the familiar ding of the elevator announced his arrival. Jungkook stepped out, already laughing at something on his phone, oblivious to the sudden chill Natasha had brought. He looked… normal. Too normal for a last day, in your opinion. He was dressed in his usual casual attire – a perfectly fitted dark red t-shirt and jeans, a stark contrast to the crisp, formal look he’d sported when delivering his resignation. It was as if he was trying to make it seem like any other Friday, just another day at the office. But it wasn't.

He glanced up, his eyes sweeping across the office, and then they landed on you. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, a private acknowledgment that made your stomach do a familiar flip. You quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in an email, but you could feel his presence, a warmth radiating from across the room.

"Morning, losers!" Shane's text was loud in your mind from the "jk - farewell planning" group chat, a notification flashing on your screen.

shane (work): Morning, losers! Last day for our dear JK! Who's bringing the tissues? 

gyu (work): Tissues? Nah, I'm bringing the champagne! Or maybe just cheap sparkling cider, Natasha's watching. 

yuna (work): Please, you two. Let's try to be professional for five more hours. 

you: Professional? On a Friday? With JK leaving? Impossible. 

hoseok (work): I already have my crying playlist ready. 

jimin (work): Hobi, no! We're celebrating! 

yoongi (work): Celebrating what? The end of peace and quiet? 

jin (work): Yoongi, be nice! ___ did you confirm the cake delivery time? 

You: Yes, Jin, for the tenth time, the cake is confirmed for 3 PM. 

jaykay (work): (typing...) Wait, there's a cake? And you guys are planning a party? I thought we were just having a quiet send-off. 

shane (work): Oh, sweet summer child. You thought. This is the Survivors' farewell. It's never quiet.

You chuckled, a genuine smile finally breaking through your forced composure. The group chat was a lifeline, a constant source of amusement and distraction from the swirling emotions you refused to acknowledge.

Jungkook made his way over to your desk, his usual swagger a little subdued today. "So, a cake, huh?" he said, leaning against the partition, his eyes twinkling. "Chocolate buttercream, I'm guessing?"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "How did you know? Are you stalking my dessert orders now?"

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that always managed to make your chest feel a little lighter. "Just a lucky guess. Or maybe you know me better than you think."

The casual intimacy of his words sent a familiar jolt through you. You quickly busied yourself with rearranging some papers on your desk. "Don't flatter yourself, Jungkook. I just picked the most boring option."

"Ouch," he said, a mock-hurt expression on his face. "And here I thought you cared."

"I care about avoiding a sugar-induced coma from your questionable dessert combinations," you retorted, finally looking up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Remember that time you tried to mix tiramisu with a red velvet cupcake? It was a crime against humanity on so many levels,"

Mingyu, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping, snorted from his desk. "Oh, I remember that! I almost called off our friendship that day,"

You couldn’t help but giggle about that which earned you a soft look from Jungkook - which Yuna noticed but you didn’t.

Jungkook then quickly rolled his eyes. "You guys are so dramatic. It was an experiment! At least I’m not too vanilla like you guys,”

"A culinary disaster," Shane chimed in, walking past with a stack of files. "Anyway, JK, don't forget we have the Nike final client brief to finalize before lunch. Natasha wants it on her desk by 1 PM sharp."

The mention of work, and Natasha, immediately shifted the mood. Jungkook straightened, his playful demeanor replaced by a focused one. "Right. The 'final' brief. Lead the way, ___."

You nodded, gathering your notes. This was it. The last official collaboration. You walked towards the conference room, the silence between you two now heavier than before. It wasn't awkward, not exactly, but it was pregnant with unspoken thoughts. The air hummed with the knowledge that this was a 'last.'

Inside the small conference room, the usual easy flow of your collaborative work felt… different. You were going over the final details for a major client presentation – a project you’d both poured countless hours into. Your hands moved efficiently, clicking through slides, adjusting figures, but your mind was a whirlwind. Every time Jungkook leaned in to point at something on the screen, his arm brushing yours, a spark ignited. Every time he finished your sentence, or anticipated your next thought, the synergy that Rowoon had mentioned felt almost painfully obvious.

"So, the projections for Q3 are looking solid," Jungkook said, tapping the screen. "We just need to emphasize the ROI on the experiential marketing aspect. That's where we really shine."

"Exactly," you agreed, pulling up a supporting graph. "And we need to highlight the seamless integration of digital and physical touchpoints. Remember how we nailed that for the 'Starlight Festival' campaign?"

A small, genuine smile spread across his face, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "The Starlight Festival. Man, that was a wild ride. We pulled that off with three days' notice and a budget that barely covered the coffee."

You laughed, the memory vivid. "And Natasha almost had an aneurysm. But we did it. We always did."

The 'we' hung in the air, a quiet testament to your partnership. He looked at you then, his gaze soft, a hint of something unreadable in their depths. "Yeah," he murmured. "We always did."

The moment stretched, filled with unspoken words, with the weight of shared history and the looming void of a future without it. You cleared your throat, breaking the spell. "Right. So, the final slide. Key takeaways. I've drafted some bullet points, but feel free to add your usual 'Jungkook flair.'"

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "My 'Jungkook flair,' huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?"

"Take it how you will," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. You worked in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the rhythm of your collaboration as natural as breathing. It was a well-oiled machine, honed over years of late nights, tight deadlines, and unexpected crises. And it was about to be dismantled.

When you finally finished, the clock on the wall read 12:45 PM. "Done," you announced, leaning back in your chair, a sense of accomplishment mixed with something else – a deep, hollow ache – settling in your chest.

"Just in time," Jungkook said, stretching his arms above his head. "One last masterpiece delivered." He looked at you, his expression softening. "Thanks, ___."

"For what?" you asked, feigning nonchalance. "It's just work."

"No," he said, his voice quiet, his eyes serious. "For everything. For being the best partner anyone could ask for. For putting up with my 'culinary adventures' and my questionable fashion choices. For always having my back."

Your heart hammered against your ribs. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. You just managed a small, tight smile. "You too, Jeon. You too."

Before the silence could grow too heavy, the door burst open.

"Lunch!" Yuna declared, Taehyung, Mingyu, and Shane trailing behind her. "And then, the countdown to the party officially begins!"

The cafeteria was a blur of noise and activity, but your usual table, the "Survivors" corner, was a sanctuary. Today, it felt different. There was an undercurrent of melancholy beneath the usual boisterous laughter. Everyone was there: Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi, Iseul, Jimin, Dae.

"So, JK," Shane began, his mouth full of bibimbap. "Any last words of wisdom for your loyal subjects?"

Jungkook grinned, taking a bite of his bulgogi. "Don't let Natasha break your spirit. And always keep a stash of emergency snacks."

"Wise words," Mingyu nodded sagely. "I'll engrave them on my desk."

"Seriously though," Yuna said, her voice softer, "we're really going to miss you, Jungkook. This place won't be the same."

A chorus of agreements followed. "Who's going to annoy ___ now?" Jimin teased, nudging you.

You rolled your eyes, but a genuine warmth spread through you. "I'll manage. Probably get more work done without his constant distractions."

Jungkook chuckled, but his eyes met yours, and for a moment, the playful mask slipped. There was a flicker of something raw, something akin to regret, in his gaze. You felt a pang in your chest, a sharp, unexpected ache.

"It's not goodbye forever," Hobi said brightly, trying to lighten the mood. "We'll still have the unofficial farewell this weekend! And the group chat!"

"The group chat will never die," Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's immortal, like our collective trauma."

Lunch passed too quickly. The jokes felt a little forced, the laughter a little louder, as if trying to drown out the ticking clock. Each shared glance, each inside joke, felt like a precious, fleeting moment.

As you walked back to the office, the realization truly hit you. This was it. After today, the daily rhythm of seeing him, working with him, bantering with him, would be gone. The thought left a hollow space in your chest.

The afternoon was a whirlwind of last-minute preparations for the party. The conference room was transformed, balloons in the company's colors, a banner proclaiming "Farewell, Jungkook!" (courtesy of Shane's questionable design skills), and a table laden with snacks and drinks.

At 4:30 PM, the office started to gather. Colleagues from other departments, some you barely knew, came to offer their goodbyes. Natasha stood near the entrance, a polite, almost detached smile on her face, occasionally nodding at well-wishers.

Then came the moment for the cake. Jin, beaming, wheeled in the trolley. The chocolate cake with buttercream frosting sat proudly in the center, a single candle flickering. Jungkook's eyes lit up when he saw it.

"No other desserts to mix with it, Jeon," you said, stepping up beside him, a playful smirk on your face. "Just pure, unadulterated chocolate goodness."

He laughed, a genuine, joyful sound. "You remembered."

"Of course," you said, your voice softer than you intended. "It's your last day. I had to make it special."

Natasha, surprisingly, stepped forward. "Jungkook," she began, her voice formal, "on behalf of the company, we wish you all the best in your new endeavor. You've been a valuable asset, and we appreciate your contributions." Her words were professional, but lacked any real warmth. She handed him a small, elegantly wrapped gift.

Jungkook accepted it graciously. "Thank you, Natasha. I appreciate the opportunity I've had here."

Then, it was the "Survivors'" turn. Shane, armed with a microphone (where did he even get that?), cleared his throat dramatically. "Alright, alright, settle down, people! It's time for the real farewell!"

He then launched into a hilarious, slightly embarrassing, and incredibly heartfelt "roast" of Jungkook, recounting various office escapades, his questionable fashion choices, and his uncanny ability to find snacks anywhere. Mingyu added a slideshow of candid (and often unflattering) photos. Hobi started tearing up. Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

Finally, it was time for Jungkook to speak. He stood before the crowd, a mix of amusement and genuine emotion on his face. He thanked Natasha, the company, and then his gaze swept over the "Survivors" gang, lingering on each one, before settling on you.

"And to my team," he began, his voice softening, "the 'Survivors.' You guys made coming to work actually bearable. You were my sanity, my entertainment, and sometimes, my therapists." A ripple of laughter went through the group. "Seriously though, thank you. For everything."

He paused, his eyes finding yours again, and this time, the look was intense, unyielding. "And to you, ___," he continued, his voice dropping slightly, almost a whisper, "thank you. For being the best partner. For pushing me, for challenging me, for making me laugh even when I wanted to pull my hair out. You're incredibly talented, and I've learned so much from you. I… I'm going to miss working with you more than words can say."

Your breath hitched. The room seemed to fade, the noise blurring into a distant hum. It was just you and him, his words a direct hit to the carefully constructed wall around your emotions. You felt a blush creep up your neck, and your eyes stung. You managed a shaky smile, unable to look away from his earnest gaze.

The party continued, a buzz of conversation and laughter. You found yourself drifting towards the quieter edge of the room, needing a moment to compose yourself. Jungkook, however, seemed to have a magnetic pull towards you. He navigated through the well-wishers, a glass of punch in his hand, until he was standing beside you.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, just for your ears.

You nodded, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Yeah. Just… a lot of emotions." You tried to joke, "Who knew you were so good at speeches?"

He chuckled softly. "Only for special occasions." He took a sip of his punch, then turned to face you fully. "I meant what I said, you know."

"I know," you whispered, finally meeting his gaze. The sincerity in his eyes was almost unbearable.

"I really am going to miss this," he said, gesturing vaguely around the room, but his eyes never left yours. "This team. This… dynamic."

You swallowed, your throat tight. "Me too. It won't be the same."

A beat of silence stretched between you, filled with the unspoken weight of everything. The attraction, the friendship, the partnership, the sudden, sharp realization of its end.

"Hey," he said, his voice a little hesitant, "about the unofficial farewell this weekend… you're coming, right?"

"Of course," you said, a small, genuine smile forming. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Gotta make sure you don't actually escape without one last roast."

He laughed, a genuine, relieved sound. "Good. I'll see you then." He gave your arm a brief, gentle squeeze, a touch that sent shivers down your spine, before he was pulled away by another colleague wishing him well.

The rest of the party was a blur. You continued to circulate, offering polite smiles, but your mind kept replaying Jungkook's speech, his gaze, the brief, intimate conversation. The facade of "not feeling anything" had well and truly shattered. You felt a confusing mix of sadness, warmth, and a terrifying flutter of hope.

As the office slowly emptied, the "Survivors" gang gathered to help with the last bits of cleanup. Shane was already planning the unofficial farewell down to the minute.

"Okay, so Saturday, 7 PM, at 'The Den'," Shane announced, wiping down a table. "Casual dress, bring your best stories about JK. And ___," he looked at you, "you're in charge of the 'sentimental' part. Something short, sweet, and maybe a little tear-jerking."

"Oh, joy," you muttered, but a small smile played on your lips. You knew you couldn't escape it.

Finally, the office was quiet, the balloons deflated, the remnants of the party a stark reminder of what had just transpired. You walked out with Jin and Yuna, the evening air cool against your skin.

"You okay?" Yuna asked softly, nudging your arm. She always had a knack for seeing through your defenses.

You sighed, a long, shaky breath. "Yeah. Just… tired."

Jin chuckled. "It's okay to be sad, you know. He's a good guy. And you two were a legendary duo."

You just nodded, unable to articulate the tangle of emotions inside you. They dropped you off at your apartment building, and you walked towards the elevator, the silence of your apartment looming.

You heard the familiar ting of your phone. It was the "jk - farewell planning" group chat.

shane (work): Official farewell done. Unofficially, the real party starts now. JK, you better be ready for Saturday. 

jaykay (work): Bring it on, Shane. I'm ready. 

You stared at his message, a strange mix of dread and anticipation swirling within you. Tomorrow wasn't just another day. It was the beginning of the end. And you knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and terrified you, that you felt everything.

part 5

“I’m telling Natasha today,” Jungkook’s famous last words that made your stomach twist, especially with the JW Blue Label Dinner event looming on your head.

You know you did a good job today by being unserious with him on texts and that too that early in the morning. You should get an award for being nonchalant. 

Also what was his new habit of texting you so early in the morning? 

The scent of strong office coffee filled the air, and your stomach churned. Natasha, back early somehow from her sun-soaked leave, swept into the office with an energy that was both a relief and a source of fresh anxiety.

How was Natasha going to react? was the question that ran through your mind. As much as it would be entertaining to watch her go through it, literally, it would also create chaos. Fun chaos but also a point of no return.

The morning was a slow, agonizing crawl. You were drowning in last-minute details for the JW Blue Label Dinner event, the pressure building with every unanswered email and ringing phone. You felt like you’d been running a marathon uphill, and Jungkook was still conspicuously absent. Typical.

Then, the elevator doors parted, and there he was. Jungkook. But… different. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, a slim tie, and tailored pants. It was a stark contrast to his usual casual attire.

“Seriously?” you drawled, leaning back in your chair, your voice laced with playful disbelief. “You’re dressed like you’re going to a board meeting. Did someone finally tell you we’re not a streetwear company?”

“Also you didn’t even dress up when you came for your interview here,” You added, amused, which earned chuckles from both Mingyu and Shane. Jungkook dramatically rolled his eyes.

He grinned, striking a pose that was more runway model than office worker. “You know I clean up well.” He winked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I can rizz Natasha up.”

And on count, along with you, Shane made a disgusted face.

Mingyu, perched precariously on your desk, nearly choked on his coffee. “Rizz Natasha? Dude, you’re going to give her a heart attack.”

Shane, sprawled across his chair, rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please, he’s got the ‘charm’ of a wet sock.”

You joined them, a playful eye roll of your own. “Oh, please,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You couldn’t ‘rizz up’ a goldfish.”

“Ouch,” Jungkook chuckled, taking his seat, a mock-hurt expression on his face. “And for your information, I was held up. Had a few… delicate matters to attend to.”

“Delicate matters?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like what? And are we sure we are talking to Jeon Jungkook?” Mingyu and Shane grinned.

“You guys really take me for granted,” he said dramatically, his eyes twinkling. “And don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Also I won’t be here for long so you guys better start respecting me,” He chuckled and that realisation hit you again. You quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your heart skipped a beat.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook how your facial expression had changed when he said that.

Mingyu and Shane awkwardly glanced between the two of you, with Shane not being able to control his awkwardness.

“Sure, anyways,” Shane rolled his eyes dramatically and tried to divert the topic.

Before the conversation could go further, Yuna and Taehyung appeared at the entrance to the CS department. It was a rare sight for them to come here. Willingly. The design studio was their sanctuary, a realm of relative calm in the midst of the everyday office chaos.

“Lunch?” Yuna asked, her voice bright and cheerful. “It’s one-thirty already. You two have to leave by four, right?”

You glanced at the clock on your computer screen. One-thirty? How had the time flown by so quickly? You looked at Jungkook, and he had the same shocked expression. He really only had two hours left.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” you exclaimed, your stomach suddenly growling in protest. “Let’s go.”

The cafeteria was a rush of noise, the usual lunch crowd in full swing. You, Jungkook, Mingyu, Shane, Yuna, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi, Iseul, Jimin, and Dae found a large table in the corner, the “Survivors” gang ready for their midday break. At this point they had kept that large table just for you guys. Everyone in the office knew about your tight knit friendship which was built on office trauma.

“So,” Yuna started, her eyes fixed on Jungkook, her voice laced with curiosity. “Are you doing it? Today?”

Jungkook nodded, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “Yep. Today’s the day,”

“Nervous?” Taehyung asked, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern.

Jungkook shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “A little. But it has to be done.”

Shane, ever the curious one, leaned forward, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Can we watch?”

“Shane!” Yuna scolded, her cheeks flushing, but you could see the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“What? I’m just curious!” Shane defended himself, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

“No but seriously can we?” You said, amused, and that earned you a high five from Shane. Is it obvious that joking is your coping mechanism?

“We’re all curious,” Mingyu admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I want to see Natasha’s face when he drops the bomb.”

“Imagine her face,” Hobi said, “It will be a masterpiece of shock and disbelief.”

“I’m sure she’ll take it well,” Jin said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “She’s known for her calm and reasonable reactions.” This earned a laugh from everyone. Thankfully no else in the lunchroom could hear you all.

“She’ll probably throw a fit,” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. “Or maybe she’ll just ignore him completely.”

“Or maybe she’ll cry,” Iseul suggested, her eyes twinkling. “A single, dramatic tear rolling down her cheek.”

“I’ll pay to watch this,” Both Shane and Mingyu said at the same time.

“Or maybe she will just give him a raise,” Jimin said, and everyone burst out laughing. 

“You know what? That’s a possibility,” You added.

Lunch passed quickly, filled with jokes, laughter, and a healthy dose of nervous energy. As the time approached, the tension within the group grew.

“Okay, it’s almost time,” Shane whispered, checking his watch, his eyes darting towards Natasha’s office. “Ten minutes to D-Day.”

You all found yourselves hovering near Natasha’s cabin, trying to look casual, but failing miserably. Shane was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes glued to the door. Even Yuna, usually so composed, was fidgeting nervously, adjusting her earrings every few seconds.

Finally, Jungkook took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked towards Natasha’s office. The door clicked shut behind him, and the “Survivors” gang held their breath, a collective gasp escaping their lips.

“Good luck,” is all you said when he entered her cabin and gave you a weak smile. Something that Yuna and Namjoon picked up on and smirked to themselves.

You had to be supportive. For him.

Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. You could hear muffled voices from inside, but couldn’t make out any words. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Then, the door opened, and Jungkook stepped out. His expression was… unreadable. He looked at you all, a small, almost cryptic smile playing on his lips.

“Well?” Shane blurted out, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Of course Shane was the first one wanting to clock the tea.

Jungkook glanced at Natasha, who was watching them from her desk, her eyes narrowed. He smirked. “We’ll discuss in the GC.”

A collective groan went up from the group, a chorus of disappointment.

“Natasha’s watching us like a hawk,” Jungkook explained, his voice low, his eyes still on her. “She’s probably got a recording device hidden somewhere.”

The group dispersed, trying to look busy, but the excitement was palpable, a tangible energy buzzing through the air.

Jungkook walked over to you, his eyes searching for yours. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You looked at him, a strange mix of curiosity and something else—a flutter of nerves—in your chest. “Yeah,” you said, your voice slightly breathless.

The two of you gathered your things and headed out of the office.  As you walked towards his car, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

“So,” he began, his voice slightly hesitant, “it’s done.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “How did it go?”

“It… it went okay,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Natasha wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she didn’t throw a fit either.”

“That’s… good,” you said, your eyes fixed on the pavement.

He opened the car door for you, a gentlemanly gesture that only heightened the tension. As you slid into the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hand lingered on the door, a brief moment of contact that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Does chivalry come with the attire?” You joked your awkwardness away and he huffed in a playful manner.

He then closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. As he started the engine, the silence stretched, thick and heavy.

The car ride was filled with the tension, which was now familiar to both you and Jungkook, a heavy silence that hung in the air.

No matter how hard you tried, even the awkward jokes, yes, that uneasy feeling stayed with you.

“I know you can’t keep this in your stomach longer, JK. Just tell me what exactly happened in that cabin,” You said and Jungkook chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” Jungkook said and here goes his story time.

Inside Natasha’s office, Jungkook stood before her desk, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times, but now, the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“So what brings you here?” This is how Natasha starts the conversation. Jungkook knew he was done for.

“Natasha I wanted to talk about something,” he began, his voice steady, and her eyes tried to gauge for what was coming next, “I’ve accepted another position.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, but her expression remained composed. “Oh?” she said, her voice cool and professional. “And where might you be going?”

“An event company,” Jungkook said, his voice firm. “They focus on live concerts, world tours—it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And when were you planning on telling me this?”

“Today,” Jungkook said, his voice unwavering. “I wanted to give you ample notice.”

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “And how much notice do you consider ample Jungkook?”

“Two weeks,” Jungkook said. He was confident about this, something that didn’t sit well with her.

Natasha’s eyes flickered towards the door, where the rest of the team was trying to look inconspicuous. “Very well,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’ll discuss the details later once Kim Song is back in town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Jungkook nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. He turned and walked out of the office,  and now his eyes met yours.

“Bitch,” is what you said once Jungkook was done sharing. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. You were on a roll today.

“This is how she reacts when you tell her you are leaving,” You said annoyed. Natasha was selfish, yes, but this is genuinely not how you expected the conversation to go. Maybe she was better at taking news than you.

“I think you just wanted more drama, ___” Jungkook mused.

“Duh!” You said as a matter of factly. "She acted nothing like Monotoya," He laughed.

“Wait, didn’t you react like that?” He teased you.

Oh hell no. He didn’t just say that. Was there a way he was inside your mind?

“You wish!” You said a little too quickly.

“Believe me I do,” He laughed.

Yes he was joking. He had to be. Right?

“Wishful thinking,” You said and ended the conversation there.

The car ride continued, the silence less heavy now, but still filled with an undercurrent of tension. You could feel Jungkook’s gaze on you every now and then, but you avoided his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

The weight of unspoken words still hung in the air, but now, it was mixed with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that something was about to shift, to change.

The JW Blue Label Dinner event was in full swing, the venue transformed into a sophisticated space, all blue lighting, a nod to Blue Label and the rich aroma of aged whiskey. You were a whirlwind of activity, ensuring every detail was perfect, a well-oiled machine in your element. Rowoon, the client, had arrived early, a familiar face amidst the pre-event hustle.

Rowoon was the best client you had. In fact, when you and Jungkook had started working together, Rowoon was the first client the two of you dealt with without Natasha’s inteference.

“You know, ___,” Rowoon said, leaning against a nearby table, “you always make these events look effortless. It’s like magic.”

You chuckled, adjusting the floral arrangement. “Magic and a lot of caffeine, Rowoon.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he said, his eyes scanning the room. “Everything looks phenomenal.”

“Thanks,” you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “We’re just hoping it lives up to the Blue Label standard.”

Rowoon nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Speaking of standards, where’s your partner in crime? I haven’t seen Jungkook yet.”

“He’s around,” you said, glancing towards the far side of the room. “Probably making sure the whiskey display is perfect.”

 As if it was known to him that his name was brought up in the conversation, just then Jungkook joins the conversation, a relaxed smile on his face. "Hey, guys. Everything set?"

"Absolutely," Rowoon said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. "You've outdone yourselves. The whiskey display is a work of art. Really sets the tone."

"Thanks, Rowoon," Jungkook said, a hint of pride in his voice. "We wanted to make sure it was something special."

"You two always deliver," Rowoon said, his gaze shifting between you and Jungkook. "It's like you can read each other's minds."

Something so simple yet made you feel tense.

You chuckled, "We've worked together long enough, I guess."

"Speaking of which," Jungkook said, his tone casual, almost offhand, "I've got some news,” Rowoon looked at him, intrigued. “I'm actually moving on to another company." Jungkook continued.

The announcement, dropped so casually, hung in the air for a moment. Rowoon's eyebrows rose slightly. "Seriously? When did that happen?"

"Just today," Jungkook said, shrugging slightly. 

"Wow, that's a big step," Rowoon said, his voice sincere. "Congratulations, Jungkook. But, man, you two make a great team. It's a shame to see you split up."

“Yep this one is leaving us,” You weren’t sure why it came out this way. You swear you weren’t trying to be mean but it’s like your mind had no control when that slipped up.

You immediately looked towards Jungkook and saw a flicker of something in his gaze, a mix of regret and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

You immediately regretted it.

“But I’m happy for him. Finally going to live his dream,” You said genuinely and patted his back. Rowoon smiled at the camaraderie.

Not wanting to see Jungkook’s reaction further, you excused yourself with a quick, "I need to check on the catering," and moved away, leaving Jungkook and Rowoon to continue their conversation.

As you walked away, Jungkook's gaze followed you. He watched as you navigated the room, your movements graceful and efficient. He saw the way you interacted with the catering staff, your instructions clear and concise, your demeanor calm and collected.

You were truly in your element, he thought, a sense of admiration washing over him. He knew you were so good at what you did. Proud - was the word he always felt for you but also admired. He admired you, was grateful he worked with you and learnt so much from you.

But it wasn’t just those feelings he felt for you.

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. Maybe it was just the event. The atmosphere. The pressure.

 But deep down, he knew it was more than that. He knew that something was shifting, something was changing. That you both were changing.

Rowoon cleared his throat, bringing Jungkook back to the present. "So, you're really leaving? That's a big change. Where are you headed?"

"An event company that focuses on concerts and tours," Jungkook said, his eyes still subconsciously drifting towards your retreating figure. "It's always been my passion."

"That's fantastic, Jungkook," Rowoon said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll do great. But seriously, like I said earlier, you and ___ are a force to be reckoned with. It's a shame to see you split up."

"Yeah," Jungkook said, his voice low. "It is."

"You know," Rowoon continued, "I've always admired the way you two work together. It's like you have this… unspoken understanding. You just click."

Jungkook nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "Yeah, we do."

"It's rare to find that kind of synergy," Rowoon said, shaking his head slightly. "You're going to be hard to replace."

"Thanks, Rowoon," Jungkook said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I appreciate that."

The conversation shifted back to the event, the details of the evening, the guest list. But the undercurrent of Jungkook's announcement lingered, a subtle tension that hung in the air.

The event was a success. As it was expected from both of you.

“Goodnight, __ See you in hell tomorrow,” Jungkook said and you laughed and opened the door of his car. 

“Hey! At least you have a countdown to leave,” Look how the tables have turned. You were joking about this situation now, knowing damn well, you were gonna overthink this once he leaves.

And that’s what happens when he leaves once you reach the gate of your apartment building, a habit he had, you noticed. Always only leaves once you enter the gate, even though he is the one who was always dropping you.

Kinda made you feel something.

Once you entered the lobby and went towards the elevator, you heard a ting sound on your phone. At least that distracted you from the overthinking that was going to happen later. It was 12AM, who was texting you at this hour?

You opened your phone to check and saw this notification.

shane (work) added you to a group “jk - farewell planning!!!!🥲😫🎉”

Perfect end to the night.

part 4