𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 | | 𝗙𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗚𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘

If there was one thing Y/n cherished, it was fashion. Dressing up wasn’t just a pastime for her—it was an art form, a reflection of her mood and personality. Even on the most mundane of days, she ensured her outfit matched her own high standards. To Y/n, a bad outfit meant a bad day; it was as simple as that.

Tonight, for Nayeon’s party, her attire was understated compared to her usual flair. She opted for a sleek black, form-fitting turtleneck dress, accented by daring slits along the sides, secured with delicate chains. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her makeup was light, subtly complementing her ensemble. Though Y/n rarely dressed to impress, tonight she couldn’t resist the temptation to leave an unforgettable impression.

As she stepped into Nayeon’s sprawling mansion, the heavy smell of sweat and vapes hit her like a wave. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, maneuvering through clusters of teenagers, some shamelessly making out against the walls. Her entrance didn’t go unnoticed.

“Y/n? Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

She glanced over to see Jungkook leaning casually against the wall, his lips curving into a smirk as he straightened.

“Yet, here I am,” she replied with a shrug, masking her true emotions with practiced nonchalance. Her eyes instinctively scanned the room, searching for a certain someone—a shy boy from the year below. When her gaze came up empty, a flicker of disappointment passed through her, though she quickly concealed it.

“Looking for someone in particular?” Jungkook’s knowing tone broke through her thoughts as he observed her restless gaze.

“Not really,” she lied effortlessly. “I was just wondering why there’s no alcohol here. Weird for a party, don’t you think?” Her tone was light, but her question was genuine.

Jungkook chuckled, nodding toward the kitchen. “Nayeon’s dad is playing party police. Alcohol’s strictly 18-plus, and they’re actually checking IDs.”

Y/n laughed, her sarcasm sharp. “A legal party, huh? Bold move for someone whose guests are vaping in every corner.”

“Right? It’s pretty lame. Anyway, I’ve got friends hosting a real party tonight. You want to ditch this kiddie playground and hang with the grown-ups?” He nudged her side teasingly, but her response wasn’t what he expected.

“I think I’ll stay for a bit. See if the party lives up to the hype Beatrice gave it,” she replied, her tone casual, though her reasoning was far from honest.

Jungkook shrugged. “Suit yourself. Hit me up if you change your mind.” He gave her a lazy wave as he disappeared into the crowd.

Left to herself, Y/n’s eyes brightened when she spotted two familiar faces entering the room. Taehyung and Jimin had finally arrived, their contrasting styles making them stand out. Jimin stuck to his usual laid-back wardrobe, while Taehyung had clearly made an effort. He wore a crisp white button-up tucked into tailored black trousers, his hair styled neatly—a rare and striking look for him.

“Fashionably late, I see,” Y/n teased as she approached them. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Taehyung flushed under her gaze, his confidence momentarily faltering. “You’re certainly dressed for the occasion,” she added, her sarcasm laced with a hint of admiration.

His cheeks reddened even further, the subtle compliment only adding to his flustered state. Jimin, sensing the tension, excused himself to “get drinks,” though both Y/n and Taehyung knew the kitchen wouldn’t yield any alcohol.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You look good,” Y/n said softly, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability. She hesitated before adding, “What do you think of my dress?”

Her question hung in the air, and Taehyung glanced up, his nerves momentarily forgotten. There was something in her tone—a quiet need for his approval—that caught him off guard.

“You look amazing,” he blurted, his sincerity leaving no room for doubt.

Before either could say more, Jimin returned, slinging an arm around Y/n with a cheeky grin. “Alright, miss stunning, do us a favor and grab some drinks. The guy won’t serve me because I look ‘too young.’”

Y/n rolled her eyes but obliged, heading toward the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot, Jimin turned to Taehyung, smirking.

“You’re hopeless, you know that? She’s practically throwing herself at you, and you’re just standing there.”

Taehyung frowned. “I didn’t do anything to make her talk to me in the first place.”

Jimin groaned, exasperated. “Exactly, genius. She doesn’t care what anyone else thinks, but with you, it’s different. She wants your opinion, your attention. Don’t screw this up.”

Taehyung’s mind whirled, unsure of how to process Jimin’s words. Was he reading too much into it? Or was there really something more behind Y/n’s teasing smiles and subtle questions?

Before he could respond, Jimin was already moving toward another group, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts—and the lingering warmth of Y/n’s presence.