♡ ˎˊ˗ TO KIM TAEHYUNG, Seoul still feels like a dream.

As the deepening blue kisses the golden horizon, the city comes to life. Ever awake, ever bright, ever alive with a beating heart and a soul of a dreamer, it steals Taehyung's attention more often than it should. Too many times he finds himself staring through the window of his apartment motionlessly, admiring the lights he wishes he could touch.

Someday, he will.

"Mr Kim."

Blinking himself out of his momentary daze, Taehyung turns around to meet the eyes of a young woman.

And gosh, she's stunning. She holds her head high, a light smile painting her lips red. Long hair cascades over her right shoulder in fiery red waves, shiny and smooth, threaded with beads to match her jewellery. Her face is smooth, without a crease on her skin, even as she smiles at him. Even her outfit is perfect, undoubtedly chosen by her and her alone because her signature style is all over it --- simple and clean, but elegant: crisp white trousers and white suit jacket, the top beneath it decorated with glistening roses. Blood red.

"Miss Hwang," he greets, letting himself smile back at her.

Victoire Hwang, the daughter of the CEO of Hwang Group, is already one of the best fashion designers South Korea has to offer. Taehyung looks up to her, in his own little way, though their experiences cannot be compared. Her family is successful and influential, the fashion industry of both Korea and France in the palm of its hands. His mother and her strawberry farm in Jipyeong couldn't come anywhere near their power. He has a long way to go before he gains a reputation even remotely similar to Victoire's.

She also happens to be engaged to the man whose face decorates a poster or two in Taehyung's old room, back at home, far away from Seoul and this life.

She doesn't seem to mind his excitement, entirely focused on his hand dancing over the glass of warm whiskey he's spent the last half an hour all but playing with. Her eyes flit back up to his. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Taehyung knows that's his cue, the question meant to test his knowledge, his involvement. He forces his smile to slip, bites it back.

His actual smile throws people off, he's been told, with his crooked teeth (that he, admittedly, quite likes) and his round cheeks. He tries to raise the corners of his lips enough for his happiness to be seen, but not for the skin around his eyes to crease or his cheeks to appear all fat. He hates that part.

Usually, he'd get into it with a tone so eager the person on the other side would flinch, yet he tries to keep his voice level, his smile subtle. "It was as expected of you, Miss Hwang. It's probably your most elegant collection so far. The models were professional, as always. I'm impressed, but I can't say I'm at all surprised."

There's something about the way she looks at him. She doesn't know he realises it, but she's analysing him, deciding whether to write him off as a naïve little rookie, annoying and obnoxious with his chaotic speech and lack of manners, yet easy to manipulate, to use to her advantage or a calculating, precise and dangerous candidate for something bigger, competition.

This is what he's here for. To be quiet and speak softly, to prove he's not someone they'll ignore easily.

Her eyes dance over him, lingering on his crooked teeth (which he swiftly covers by sealing his lips shut), before moving onto the fidgety fingers playing with his glass of Glenmorangie.

This is his new world. People with golden eyes and golden futures, all proud of what they've achieved and even prouder of what's to come. They're all ready to welcome him and maybe, just maybe, he'll be as great as them someday. Someday, he'll be like them, accomplished and content, attending events like this one to greet rookies and show them the ropes.

Except, that's all bullshit.

They're transparent and they don't even realise it. Their little façade is easy to break through, with a few dumb smiles and even dumber questions no one thinks too much of and a reputation yet to be earned --- he's been doing it so far, after all, and now, it's time for the role to change because they're dangerous. They're venomous, stepping over each other on their way to the top, building their careers on the foundation of blood of the people they've taken down and the sweat of their families, who actually worked to give them such privilege.

Few people in this industry are truly kind. Taehyung doesn't want to risk it and show he's clueless because if he does, even the kind ones will change. And he's there to grow, to be the best he can be with his humanity still intact, while playing the part necessary for success. And as long as he's himself within his four walls, he'll do whatever it takes to truly make it.

So he insists. "I must admit it's all a little new to me. This is my first time attending such an event without my superiors, so I am trying to absorb as much as I can." He grips his glass tighter, keeping his hands from waving around obnoxiously with every word and making useless gestures that could almost poke the woman's eye out. All his life, he's been practising speaking eloquently because it just sounds so beautiful and gives him a unique kind of satisfaction. Also, he's aware he appears far less gullible if he can form a proper sentence. One single thing his father taught him: know how to speak and you'll be taken seriously. "I have been admiring your work for a while now, so I'm looking forward to improving myself and perhaps reaching somewhere near your level someday."

"Well, nothing is impossible, is it?"

Her mouth is open, she's ready to speak, but the answer doesn't come from her, but instead, from somewhere behind Taehyung. The voice is deeper, gentle against the soft music and Taehyung's hands drop to his sides as the man brushes against his shoulder on the way to his fiancée.

Holy shit.

"Jeon Jeongguk," Taehyung whispers, feeling his eyes grow wide.

Jeongguk looks even better in person. The grey suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad back and a figure guys like Taehyung can only dream of. He laughs at Taehyung's unfiltered surprise, the sound warm and deep, his shoulders shaking a little, the fabric of his suit almost sparkling with every movement.

His skin glows a golden honey beneath the lights, mesmerising, unlike those whitewashed photographs people can find of him on the internet, photographs in which he's pale as snow. His cheeks are dusted pink, matching his pretty lips.

And then he fucking smiles and his smile is wide and honest --- gosh, can he not smile like that, like Taehyung's actually relevant --- and it alters his whole face into something gentle, something more genuine than anyone Taehyung's spoken to tonight.

"Hi there." He offers Taehyung a nod, a few strands of hair falling out of his ponytail in shiny, dark waves. Taehyung's throat runs dry.

He didn't expect to have to talk to Jeongguk. Not really. He knew Victoire would probably approach him, seeing as her parents apparently own the whole fucking building and Taehyung's there to represent Choi Fashion, a rivalling company that, let's be honest, can't really compare. He knew that Jeongguk, her beloved fiancé would be by her side. Hell, Taehyung hoped, but that went as far as planning to throw a glance or two at him from a safe distance. Yet, here they are, with Taehyung gawking at Jeongguk with wide eyes and an even wider mouth, with Jeongguk's smile slowly turning into one of confusion --- he's so cute --- and with Victoire fucking Hwang standing beside her fiancé, blinking away the awkwardness.

Taehyung bows immediately, all his plans to act all smart completely sinking. Don't stutter, don't stutter, don't--- "It's nice to meet you, sir. I--- I'm a big fan of your work, truly."

Fuck.

They all say that, that little voice in the back of his head, strangely similar to the voice of his best friend, Seokjin, warns him. His voice of reason. He doesn't think you're special. Get over yourself.

"Oh, please, don't bow. You're older than me, anyway. And also, just Jeongguk is fine. It's Kim Taehyung, right?" Jeongguk's head tilts to the side. Taehyung's gaze drops to the way Jeongguk's arm wraps around Victoire's waist, his hand on her hip as he brings her closer.

God, he's so straight it hurts.

"Yeah, uh, that's me." He knows Taehyung's name.

It sounds beautiful on his lips.

Jeongguk's eyebrows rise at the confirmation. "I remember you. You were at that event--- what was it called, Chae? Choose?"

Of course he'd call her by her Korean name. They're not acquaintances. Not strangers. They're in love and they're having a September wedding.

"Choice," she offers.

"Exactly, Choice. Thanks, baby." Jeongguk kisses the side of her head and both she and Taehyung gasp in slight surprise. Her cheeks burn red. He feels like he's intruding, witnessing something he shouldn't, until Jeongguk chuckles. "I'm sorry, I have a very low alcohol tolerance, I've had a few drinks already. Alcohol makes me all clingy and gross." Yet, as he raises a finger, every movement is still smooth and composed and gosh, he's just so cool. "But I do remember seeing you there. You were quite busy, that last portion of the event."

Choice. Four months ago. Taehyung knows exactly what Jeongguk is talking about.

Back then, he had just graduated from college and was able to become an assistant to one of the best designers of Choi Fashion. No longer an intern, he was able to work on a big event and it proved itself to be his moment. Thanks to his boss, who had given his youngest employees a few minutes each to shine individually, at the very end, to display their own designs in order to show how much the company is open to new minds and new ideas, he'd gotten the opportunity to show his own creations to the world and to make his name known.

He remembers the excitement as his models, men in crop tops and women in suits, walked the runway, earning surprised gasps from the audience. The dissatisfied comments from the conservative ones and the standing ovation from the open-minded, younger people who thought his idea was revolutionary, especially for their quite traditional country, Taehyung absorbed it all.

He doesn't remember seeing Jeongguk there.

"Right," he confirms quietly, feeling warmth seep through the fabric of his shirt, near the collar. It burns up his neck and ears in all the suffocating ways.

"What was your inspiration for the pieces? I'd really like to know."

Taehyung sighs. "It was quite the challenge, getting it right, especially for my very first time. You see, I believe clothing has no gender and that the labelling we see on items is useless. Women feel pressured to find clothes in the female section while men struggle in the male section and those who feel like they belong in both or in neither of those places, they may feel lost, so I thought---"

He pauses, his hands freezing where they've been waving around in front of him, his drink dangerously close to spilling all over Jeongguk's expensive suit. Shit, he's rambling again.

Chuckling, he reaches up and loosens the tie around his throat. "God, I'm sorry, I got carried away."

Still, Jeongguk smiles at him all the same, his gaze drifting down to Taehyung's tie for a second before rising back up to his eyes. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's completely fine. I actually agree with you." Of course he does. A person like him would be supportive of everyone, as expected.

What is not expected, however, is how swiftly he reaches out towards Taehyung, slender fingers wrapped around a phone. His eyes are still on Taehyung's, with an intensity that wasn't there before or, shit, maybe it had been there all along, but Taehyung just couldn't bring himself to see it.

He's reading way too much into this.

Taehyung looks at him, then at an equally confused Victoire, then back at him. "Excuse me?"

"I think what you've done is quite impressive," Jeongguk explains and Taehyung opens his mouth to thank him, but Jeongguk stops him with a simple suggestion. "I'd like to discuss it with you again, if you're up for it. Do you mind giving me your phone number?"

Victoire's mouth is agape. She gives Jeongguk a glare Taehyung can't quite figure out. She doesn't seem too shocked, just unimpressed. "Seriously?"

"Sure." Jeongguk shrugs, gaze drifting to her, an eyebrow raised, almost in challenge, but his eyes are back on Taehyung soon enough and Taehyung can't think straight. "We could hold a meeting or just grab coffee together if you're not into all the formalities. You could show me your portfolio, I'd love to see it. Is that okay?"

Taehyung nods dumbly, taking the phone. Sound smart, sound smart, sound--- "I'd love that, sir."

Sir? Sir?

"Jeongguk, not sir."

Right.

"Sorry. Jeongguk." The name tastes familiar on his tongue, yet the difference between having used it to refer to someone for years now and finally using it to address that same someone makes his skin all warm.

The lock screen is a photo of a big, scary looking dog and Taehyung bites back his smile as he unlocks the phone, surprisingly with no password required, and types in his number. Jeongguk's smile is still present as Taehyung returns the phone. "I can give you mine, too."

There's a dumb little feeling in his stomach, all kinds of storms and butterflies, and he takes out his phone, enters the PIN and gives it to Jeongguk. The feeling tastes sweet on his tongue, but he knows it's dangerous to give into because yes, Jeongguk has not only given him his personal phone to get his number, but also considered him normal enough to leave his own contact information, and yes, in a strange way, it feels like Jeongguk trusts Taehyung, but letting himself enjoy this, letting himself relax, it's not something he should do because that leads to feelings, feelings stronger than a little celebrity crush and that---

Just as Jeongguk hands the phone back over and Taehyung's heart skips at the light brush of Jeongguk's tattooed fingers against his, fingertips rough from guitar strings, a voice exclaims from somewhere behind the couple.

"There you are!" Taehyung looks to the side to see a man, slightly shorter than himself, yet surprisingly muscular, walk over to Jeongguk, his jaw tight. He's oddly familiar. "I've been looking for you."

"Jimin, I'm in the middle of a conversation---"

"Joon's going crazy back there! We gotta get back." The man --- Jimin --- glances at Taehyung for a second before shooting Jeongguk a look similar to the one Victoire wore earlier and standing up straighter and clearing his throat. "Mr Kim seems to be growing impatient. We should really go."

Taehyung ignores the sudden formal tone as he feels his eyebrows furrow at the visible tick that goes through Jeongguk's sharp jaw. It clenches, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek before he licks his lips and sighs, a tight smile sent in the man's direction.

"Right, thank you." His eyes shift to Taehyung's again and his expression softens. "I'm really sorry, but my manager is one scary man. If he wants me back, I should go." He throws in a wink and Taehyung's breath hitches in his throat. "I'll make sure to text you, there's a lot I would like to discuss."

"It's completely fine," Taehyung assures with a nod. "It was nice meeting you both."

"You, too, Taehyung," Jeongguk replies before looking at Victoire and offering an arm for her to hold onto. "Shall we, Chae?"

With a charming smile and a wave of her fingers in Taehyung's direction, Victoire links her arm with her fiancé's and the two leave Taehyung, Jimin offering a curt nod before following them.

Taehyung lets out a tense little breath before reaching for his warm drink and knocking it back.

♡ˎˊ˗ OF COURSE SEOKJIN doesn't believe Taehyung when he finds out about the whole situation with Jeongguk and his fiancée. Taehyung doesn't blame him.

He keeps quiet, sipping on his freshly poured Glenmorangie as he listens to his friend and flatmate ramble over the phone.

"I mean, let's be real here. He's a rockstar. He's talented, he's rich, he's hot---"

"Hyung, you don't have to remind me. I'm quite aware," Taehyung mutters. "Besides, it's not like he's asking me out. It's a business meeting, about business." He sighs. "Still, I'm nervous."

"You should be. Lying to your friends will get you nowhere, you stupid fuck." Taehyung scoffs at the comeback. "I can hear you rolling your eyes over there, you know."

"I wasn't trying to hide it. I'm just surprised you don't believe me."

"I'll believe it when I see it." There's a thud on Seokjin's end, but Taehyung doesn't question it. "You're not coming back tonight, are you?"

"No." He sighs. "They gave me a room. I imagine they're trying to impress the competition. Mr Choi is going to love this."

It's nothing special, no better than their shared apartment, really. Taehyung moved to campus when he started college and immediately befriended Kim Seokjin, an intimidatingly handsome, but completely unhinged psychology student. The two bonded over the most ridiculous bullshit and decided to help each other out and get an apartment together on the outskirts of Seoul.

The apartment is tiny, but it's theirs. There's no room to breathe, but he loves it. Taehyung hears him out when he needs to ramble on about his odd experiences with his patients (as much as one can while respecting a patient's confidentiality) while Seokjin wordlessly cooks warm meals for Taehyung while the latter is stuck in his room, sketching and sewing for hours without a break. It's a silly little dynamic.

"Yeah, yeah, you do that. Now let me sleep, I had a long shift."

With another roll of his eyes, Taehyung does just that.

The night has escalated into something more relaxing to Taehyung. He's had a few more drinks since Jeongguk left, trying to tame his nerves enough not to freak out over the encounter.

Occasionally, he throws a glance over at the direction the couple disappeared in, in hopes of seeing Jeongguk walk back over to him. It never happens. Still, he sees the man knock back drink after drink, arms wrapped around Victoire as he whispers things to her, lips grazing her gold earrings. She replies from time to time, smiling lightly and Jeongguk giggles--- holy shit, he giggles.

How is he even real?

Truth be told, Taehyung has admired Jeon Jeongguk for years now. He's not an actual fan of his, not really. He would call himself a casual listener, someone who knows a song or two and has seen some interviews, variety show episodes and livestreams.

Okay, he's a fan, whatever.

It's not necessarily just about the music. Jeongguk has a beautiful voice and the songs are truly amazing. He writes them himself, even produces and arranges, making sure to perfect every minute detail, creating something beautiful in the process. But that's not the main reason Taehyung's heart beats a little faster looking at him.

Sure, he's handsome, so handsome it's unfair, with his unkempt hair and gentle eyes, golden skin and pretty hands that do wonders with that guitar of his, but that's not the point, either. The reason itself sounds quite cheesy and he never says it out loud, not even to the people closest to him because it makes him sound ridiculous and no one believes him.

Jeon Jeongguk is a wonderful person.

The industry is crowded with fake smiles and ulterior motives, with sabotage and pleasure taken in someone's pain, but Jeongguk is nothing like that.

Taehyung is great at reading people and he simply knows.

Jeongguk helps charities, orphanages, elders, animal shelters, even LGBTQIA+ spaces. The way he perceives the world is fascinating because he seems to appreciate every little thing. He speaks up about the mistreatment of Asians in America and the rest of the world, about racism, about any kind of injustice that concerns him.

When he talks about music or his fans, he speaks as though they were his favourite things in the world. Maybe they are. Maybe he simply loves the world itself.

When he speaks, it feels like music. It's simple, but the message is there, clear and direct, easy for anyone to decipher if they're willing enough.

It's like he's the only genuinely kind person left in the world Taehyung finds himself in. He likes to think Jeongguk will be out there, somewhere, as a reminder to Taehyung to stay himself as he grows. That's his only wish.

Taehyung finally takes his eyes off the couple when Jeongguk stumbles against his fiancée, a hand on her hip. His limbs seem to have grown heavier, yet he attempts a slow dance, guiding her close to him, nosing at the side of her neck.

The public is visibly not used to so much PDA from famous couples, if their scowls are anything to go by, but if he ignores his inexcusable raging jealousy (they seem not to kiss on the lips at any point, and he's extremely grateful for that), Taehyung finds it kind of cute how Jeongguk is that type of boyfriend. He doesn't hide, doesn't hesitate. Hell, even the engagement announcement came clearly and officially, not forced by sasaeng photos or leaked messages.

Jimin is always around, though, grabbing Jeongguk by the elbow every five minutes, whispering something harshly, alongside another man --- tall and intimidating, with a pair of glasses perched atop his nose and hair so blindingly silver Taehyung can't look at it --- and Taehyung decides he doesn't like either of them.

He ends up talking to all kinds of different celebrities that night. There's a designer he's always wanted to collaborate with and he successfully gets her manager's number. A few models he's been acquainted with in the past approach him when he goes out to the balcony to smoke, making small talk, complimenting his work and telling him to hit them up when he decides to organise something on his own. A pretty man in a fancy suit buys him a drink, but remains away, almost as a reminder they'll meet again.

Still, he feels eyes on him the entire night.

At first, he simply assumes it's a shy fan, reluctant to walk up to him. Then, his ego offers an idea he can't shake, that it's Jeon Jeongguk looking over at him, thinking about their earlier conversation, wanting to continue it, but now, Jeongguk is nowhere to be found.

The feeling of being watched follows him for hours to come. The atmosphere is milder, the night coming to an end as many guests leave the after-party and soon, the banquet hall is less crowded and Taehyung can breathe a bit more easily. He catches glimpses of Jimin and the other man Jeongguk was around earlier --- his manager, Mr Kim, presumably --- and sometimes even Victoire, but Jeongguk has vanished and Taehyung can't help but get that familiar sinking feeling somewhere in his chest.

Maybe Jeongguk asked for his number so Taehyung wouldn't be disappointed. Maybe in Taehyung's miserable attempt at keeping calm, Jeongguk sensed all that admiration and felt sorry for him. He's so sweet that doing such a thing wouldn't be strange. He seems like one of those people who'd be ready to do anything not to make someone feel bad about themselves.

Finally, as he passes through the crowd one last time on his way to the reception, ready to retrieve his room key and call it a night, Taehyung locks eyes with a man.

There's nothing too unique about him, not really, except for the fact that Taehyung finds him extremely familiar and that he's pretty sure he's the one standing behind all the watching tonight.

He sits by the stage, in the front row, a drink in his hand, legs crossed. Those dark eyes of his are on Taehyung's, sharp and cold, even colder than the silver adorning his ears in different shapes, from small crosses to simple chains. His skin is pale, almost ghostly, and the uneasiness in Taehyung's chest only grows when the stranger offers a smile.

"Good evening," Taehyung finds himself uttering, experimentally.

The stranger nods. "Mr Kim." The hoarse voice sends all kinds of shivers rushing up and down Taehyung's spine like ants. "Having a good time, I suppose?"

Taehyung forces another smile, sinking back into his act. "I certainly am." He tilts his head. "What about you?"

To Taehyung's surprise, the man chuckles, shaking his head. His earrings dangle with the gesture and Taehyung wonders how much it hurt to have his ears pierced. He's worked with needles all his life, but piercing through his skin, for either shiny jewellery or beautiful images in ink, seems unimaginable. Sticking to clip-on earrings and temporary tattoos is the way to go.

"Ah, I can't do this." The man stands up. "This small talk, it's... You must've noticed me watching you, I'm sorry."

Well, that's a first.

He certainly didn't expect the man to confess, to actually own up to it. He's caught so many people here tonight, mostly women, occasionally men, eyeing him in all different ways, yet never has he gotten an actual confession before.

"It's alright." He nods. "As long as you tell me what it is I can do for you."

"Well, I believe it's about what I can do for you, Mr Kim." He bows suddenly. "I'm Min Yoongi and I have an offer for you. An arrangement, of sorts."

Min Yoongi. The name is certainly familiar. If the man is here, then there's no wonder why. His name has probably been featured in numerous articles Taehyung has seen. He seems important.

Taehyung bows back, unable to hide the hesitation in his movements. "What kind of arrangement?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you've been working for Choi Fashion since last October. That would make it around... eight months now, correct?" Taehyung nods at him to continue. "I've noticed your individual skills multiple times during your work for Mrs Choi's son, Choi Minho. Your ability to stand out is quite impressive. Yet you lack certain... confidence."

What is this? Who is this man, really? With his mysterious aura and small, creepy smiles and this information on Taehyung, he certainly seems like a villain one would find in those anime series or K-dramas Seokjin always watches on Sundays.

Taehyung would ask him what he meant by it. He'd try to find out as much as he could, but that would mean dropping his little act and he can't do it now. Not around a stranger who could very well endanger him in every way.

So he nods instead. "Well, all the people I've had the pleasure of meeting tonight are quite talented and incredible to work with. They possess the kind of knowledge and experience I've yet to acquire."

It sounds ridiculous even to his own ears. The way of speech, the complicatedness of it that he'd never truly allow himself, it's too much, even for him. The illusion of a stuck-up ass-kisser, with hopes and dreams and actual plans and a clue about how to do this. Yet, Min seems to buy it.

"That can happen quickly," he assures him. "Confidence comes from independence. From going your own way, away from your seniors in the company. Yet, for that, you need a little guidance. I could be that for you." He pulls a business card out of the breast pocket of his suit. "If you need a manager, that is."

A manager. This man wants to be Taehyung's manager. Not the company's, not his boss's. Taehyung's.

Oh, this is getting good.

"The company has an excellent management team."

"Not the company, Mr Kim. You." Min steps closer. "Tell me, do you have your own designs?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you show them to the world?"

"I have," he insists, sputtering. "Mr and Mrs Choi---"

"On your own. Why don't you organise an event like this? Have your own clothing line? Whatever you want? You're an assistant, that's fine, but don't you want more?" He places a cold hand on Taehyung's shoulder. "You're a creator. So, create."

Taehyung scoffs. "I do."

"Independently. You call the shots, you design and you show it to people and you gain that confidence, that success you dream of. For that, you need a right-hand man." Eyebrows raised, he nods towards Taehyung's palm, holding the business card. "Think about what I said, Mr Kim. Then come and find me."

Mr Min turns on his heel and leaves the hall, leaves Taehyung to stand there and process the conversation.

This is perfect. The outcome of it couldn't have been better. There's a manager, an actual manager, trying to work with him.

He's been trying to find someone, a bit desperately. Yet, everyone he's encountered so far have been people already working for Mrs Choi's company, for Mr Choi --- her son and his boss --- or someone just as big and he didn't want that. He wanted someone who wouldn't connect him to other companies, so people wouldn't be able to claim him as their pawn, like he is now.

And if Taehyung's sixth sense is correct, Min Yoongi is ideal for that.

The receptionist is overly sweet as he walks over to her desk and requests his room key. She keeps batting her long eyelashes at him and leaning over the desk with her arms crossed right below her chest and Taehyung experiences all kinds of gay panic right then and there. His expression intentionally cold as to show he's not interested, he finally walks away from her and to the elevator.

His room is on the sixth floor and strangely enough, the entire floor is empty as he steps out of the elevator, letting the door shut behind him. He knows this floor is reserved for almost-nobodies --- Hwang Group are people he's certainly heard a lot about, including their lack of respect for newbies --- so he's not really surprised by the visible difference in quality, the humble decoration and faded wallpaper being the only indicators of what his room looks like.

Hesitantly, he steps towards the door, ready to insert his key into the lock.

That's the moment it all goes downhill.

The door next to his all but slams open as the sound of breathy whispers and muffled laughter spreads through the otherwise quiet hallway. Eyes widening, Taehyung fiddles with the key faster, but the fucking keyhole isn't working or something because fuck, two men stumble out of the room next to his, arms around each other in a hushed goodbye, and his eyes widen as they focus on one of them.

Jeongguk.

a/n:

this is your cue to act surprised :o

yeah this is the first chapter! what do we think??

i was honestly gonna write taehyung as this psycho who plays dumb and innocent to gain information but i changed it last minute thanks to a couple of amazing humans who helped me figure this out. now it's kinda the other way around. he just really doesn't know what he's doing but hopes it doesn't show lmao

i just wanna remind everyone that things in this book are never what they seem, with every detail potentially meaning something else, so keep that in mind

so taehyung's a simp but wbk. he's just his fanboy self, unable to look cool in front of his ult bias bUT now this happens so that might cause an issue. speaking of jk, his name is spelled jeongguk, but his stage name is jungkook here, like in real life. don't be surprised if both spellings are used, it depends on who's addressing him. tae's a fan so he can use his real name, like we use taehyung/yoongi/namjoon and not v/suga/rm. celebrities and reporters will, however, probably use jungkook.

i hope you guys liked this!! i hope you'll decide to stick around and see this book develop <3