As anyone would have expected, the Twirling Dragon Bar was not very crowded on a Wednesday evening. Jimin had had a sudden rehearsal cancellation, and Jungkook had jumped at the chance to hang out with him for it had been awhile since their last night out. Except ever since they'd arrived, Jungkook had been more interested in his phone than his hyung, who was starting to wonder if it would be best to just go home and sleep early because from the looks of it, this night out was thus far proving awfully boring.

The bartender (whom we shall call Johnny because he has appeared twice in this fic already and it would be nice to get to know him a little) returned with a cocktail of his making, and a worried frown on his otherwise friendly face. "Espresso martini, on the house, because we must talk."

Jimin could tell a polite 'thanks but no thanks' was not an option and began munching on a coffee bean. "Wait, am I supposed to eat those?" he suddenly asked, doubtful.

"You can, if you like them," Johnny replied with a smile. "Fair-trade beans."

Jimin went on crunching. "You want to talk about him?" His finger was pointing at his younger friend who looked positively enthralled by whatever activity was taking place on the street outside the bar.

"Precisely. Now tell me, what are the symptoms?" the man enquired.

"Well, let me think. Ah yes! He's been cooking a lot at home, you know. And since we both love spicy tteokbokki, we have it at least once a week. It has become his signature dish. Except these days, he started making this royal version with soy sauce instead of red pepper paste."

Johnny mulled over it for a short while before asking, "is it good?"

"It is. But his spicy recipe remains superior, in my opinion. Why doesn't he make it any more?"

"My guess is this: he is perfecting a dish to suit someone else's taste buds." Without giving Jimin a moment to process that information, he pressed on. "Anything else?"

The dancer didn't have to think long before answering, "he sings. A lot."

"Singing is a good indicator of happiness."

Jimin had to agree. "I hadn't heard him sing in a long time. And it's nice to see him smiling again. Especially after all he's been through. I just didn't imagine he'd be back to his old self so soon."

Motioning for Johnny to come closer, Jimin added covertly, "I'm not sure how things work in Australia, but in Korea, this is all very suspicious behaviour."

The bartender was quick to concur. "I agree. Did you confront him about it?"

"The thing is, I don't want to sound like I'm his mother. Or that he owes me an explanation. I mean, he has his life, you know. And I have mine. If I start questioning his unusual attitude, he might withdraw into himself."

Jimin turned to watch Jungkook seemingly too busy texting to notice their worried looks. "I'm a little sad he hasn't confided in me on his own terms. And I feel bad for suspecting him to hide things from me."

Johnny flashed him a smile. "Oh that he is. Trust me."

"Wait. What do you know that I don't? And why am I always the last one informed?"

"He's in love. Can't you tell?"

Jimin almost choked on a coffee bean. "In love?"

He had no time to elaborate as Jungkook sat on the barstool next to him. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Uh — nothing." Jimin's flusteredness didn't go unnoticed.

"What's the matter?"

"The matter is that — we got here thirty minutes ago and only now do you decide to join our conversation!" Jimin was a dancer. Not an actor. Everyone could see through his airs, but that didn't stop him from overplaying his miff. "You're lucky it's a quiet night! Johnny kept me company, otherwise, I would have been very lonely."

Jungkook could tell something was up, but he apologized nonetheless. "I'm sorry, hyung. I was just expecting someone to join us."

The dancer was all ears now. "Someone? Who?"

"Someone you know, as a matter of fact. But I'm starting to think he won't show up at all tonight."

That was Johnny's cue to get the shots ready.

—

Killing time in the lobby-ish sitting area near Band PD's office, Taehyung realized how Jungkook must have felt while waiting to be called into that horrendous PR meeting, several months ago. If his sweaty palms were any indication, this impromptu convening was not going to be about sharing happy news. How unfortunate this had to happen when he had plans with Jungkook. He'd already texted to let him know that he was running late, but truth be told, he had no idea when he'd be able to leave the office. Or even if he would make it at all.

Namjoon was pouring himself a third cup of brew from the self-service coffee pot when the door finally opened and the secretary allowed them in.

Sitting behind his oversized executive desk, the CEO motioned for them to step closer. Taehyung's gaze instantly fell on a thick kraft envelope prominently placed on top of the otherwise empty table. "Open it and have a look," the chairman ordered.

Something twisted in Taehyung's gut. He almost ripped the packet open, eager to shred to pieces the veil of secrecy that kept being pulled over his eyes, for reasons unknown to him.

He didn't give himself a moment to speculate on its content, but perhaps he should have. As the photographs falling out of the teared envelope littered the floor, his head spun dangerously, and his heart pounded so fast one would think he was running a 100-metre dash.

Taehyung barely noticed Namjoon's arm guiding him toward the nearest seat. What he did pick up on, however, was the silence in the room. Not a sound was coming out of chairman Bang's mouth, and his manager remained uncomfortably quiet as well. At this point, a good angry scolding would have been preferable to the unspoken judgement the artist was presently being subjected to.

"I thought we'd made it clear he was persona non grata," Bang PD eventually uttered in a cold, sententious tone.

"This is — my personal life."

The man scoffed. "I'll tell you what this is. It's another financial burden for the company which will be added to your current liabilities."

"What?"

Crossing his arms in a tired posture, the chairman sighed. "It's a shame you still don't understand how these things work. Whom should I blame for your ignorance? Manager Kim perhaps?"

Namjoon's jaw tensed at the tacit complaint, but he chose not to respond.

Taehyung, however, had yet to make sense of what looked very much like blackmail. "Who took these?"

"Does it really matter, who was holding the camera? If these pictures of your little dates all over the city turn up in any of the main news outlets, you can bid your singing career farewell."

Nanji Park, Lotte World, Inwangsan — they had even managed to track Jungkook down as he was walking out of their recording session two weeks prior.

"Someone is stalking us," Taehyung said, voice feeble as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that nowhere was safe.

The CEO dismissed the allegation with a flick of the hand. "A common side effect of stardom. Don't think it makes you special in any way. Most idols have to deal with paparazzi on a daily basis. The point here is that we had to cough up quite a hefty sum to sweep these under the rug. Do you understand what I'm saying, Kim Taehyung?"

"I'll pay you back." If this were a mere question of money, then it could be settled fairly smoothly. Or so Taehyung thought.

"That's a given. But that's not what I was getting at."

And no. Bang PD could not be asking that of him. Looking down at his scattered memories, Taehyung couldn't help but notice the photogenic qualities of Jungkook's profile, sharp yet soft around the edges thanks, no doubt, to his wonderfully fluffy locks.

The impatient chairman soon interrupted any reminiscing. "I've already given instructions to remove the Sweet night track from your upcoming album, which is what you should be focusing on right now."

"I am focused. I've never been so productive!" Taehyung argued. He was convinced Jungkook had been a muse of sorts, rooting for him with constant praise, boosting his self-esteem, and providing him with the courage to show his true colours.

But evidently, he was the only one aware of Jungkook's influence on his life and work.

His boss picked up a photograph which had fallen on his desk. "I give you 24 hours to make the right decision."

Throwing the picture in the nearest bin, he dismissed them both.

Taehyung did not remember walking to the parking lot, nor getting in Namjoon's car. But he did recall having to insist his manager take him to a bar in Itaewon. "Are you sure about that?" Namjoon had to ask.

"I'm already late as it is. If you won't drop me off, I'll just grab a cab."

—

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