Sajangnim, just checked Y/N out of the recovery center. She seems out of it, but I am hopeful that with the proper care, we should be back in Korea by the end of the year or early next year at the latest. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, September 2021
She won’t eat. She won’t talk. She won’t write. She won’t sing. She won’t let me play music. She just lays in bed and refuses to move. She stares at the wall — she doesn’t even cry. I don’t know what to do. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, September 2021
She keeps complaining that Santa Barbara is too white and that if she has to be subjected to microaggressions, cultural ignorance, and being othered one more fucking time by the staff she will make sure she’s much more thorough on her next attempt. Are there any out-patient programs in Los Angeles? - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, October 2021
Sajangnim, I don’t think it would be a good idea for Y/N to attend the BTS PTD concerts as a way to reintroduce her to public life. She says she doesn’t want to distract Namjoon or the other members from this historic moment. She would prefer they and their staff not be informed that she is now in Los Angeles. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, November 2021
She’s a wreck. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, November 2021
Sajangnim, I don’t think Y/N will be back in Korea this year or even the next. I am recommending she not renew her contract with us in June. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, December 2021
We need to start making plans for who will take care of Y/N when her contract ends in a few months. Unfortunately, I will not be able to stay. I am not confident that she will be able to live on her own safely. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, February 2022
March 2022
“Everyone keeps asking me if I can get them BTS tickets, oppa,” you said. “And they want to know if I’m going to Vegas.”
“Do you want to go?” Ha-joon asked carefully, as if you were fragile and he was always breaking you.
“No,” you replied definitively.
You noted his sigh of relief at not needing to tell you it was a bad idea for you to attend. Anything related to BTS or meeting up with people who used to know you — really, peopling in general — was a bad idea.
You hated yourself for turning your once open, confident, and tough love manager into an anxious, guarded person. You knew he was exhausted and you were the cause of his burn out. You were the reason he was going to be without a person to manage in three months’ time. You were the reason Ha-joon was switching departments at HYBE. You were the reason Ha-joon now hated his job.
How he must despise you.
“Do you still need me to get them tickets? I can, you know,” Ha-joon offered kindly. Even now, he was doing his best to take care of you. You did not deserve him.
“You should go, too, oppa,” you suggested softly. At his bewildered expression, you continued. “I’m sure you miss your colleagues and I know you enjoy BTS’s performances, too. I’ll be fine. If you’re worried, I can ask a friend to stay with me for the weekend.”
“Aish,” Ha-joon replied brusquely as he moved to the fridge, pulling food out to start preparing dinner. “I’ll see them all soon enough. I only have you a few more months, Y/N. Stop trying to get rid of me early.”
You merely stared after him, brain futzing. “Oh.”
Everything in your being rebelled at accepting his words as truth. You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Ha-joon enveloped you in his strong, dependable arms.
“Ah, Y/N,” he murmured. “Oppa will miss you so very, very much. But don’t cry just yet — we have three more months together.”
You nodded into his chest and didn’t move for some time. Lies circled your overwhelmed mind like vultures, except for once, you allowed yourself to sink into the hope that Ha-joon was here because he loved you and not because he wanted a return on his company’s investment.
You vowed as you always did that tomorrow, you would make it up to Ha-joon and Alton. You would make them proud one day; you would repay all the sacrifices they had made for you.
———
The next morning, you woke up feeling as you always did: grayed out. The world was muted as if you were underwater and all you could hear was the pounding of your pulse. It did not matter that you were surrounded by luxury in Alton’s understated mansion in San Marino, a wealthy suburb of Los Angeles.
You spent your day like you did every other day: refusing to budge from your bed until your bladder could no longer hold and then crawling back under heavy blankets. You zoned out on mobile games until your elbows hurt. If you sensed Ha-joon down the hall, you would toss the covers over your head, pretending to sleep.
One day slipped into the next and once again, time lost all meaning.
———
“Stop avoiding me, Y/N,” scolded Alton through the tiny screen of your phone, “and before you lie to my face and say you’re not, I have it on good authority that you spend all day locked in your room pretending to sleep.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” you scowled. “I have years of sleep to catch up on.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, mèi.”
Alton sounded so disappointed. He had to be. He’d settled tens of millions of dollars on your behalf and you repaid him by wasting away your life in bed. Nevermind that you had no idea how to settle the debt given that the thought of singing or performing made you want to vomit. Nevermind that Alton waived it away as if it was nothing. Even if it was nothing to him, it was not nothing to you.
Mattie couldn’t understand why you weren’t more relieved. You didn’t dare confide in him about your sense of despair and indebtedness. The one time you had when he’d visited, Mattie had flown into a rare temper.
“Why can’t you just accept this good thing, Y/N? Why do you always have to be such a martyr? As if you’re the only person in the world who can save us?” The fact that Mattie — calm and collected and easygoing Mattie — had raised his voice at all had thrown you into disarray. “Don’t you fucking dare do anything stupid to pay Alton back. I will never forgive you if you do.”
He had sounded near tears and so you had promised. “I promise, Mattie,” you had said. “Could you clarify what you mean by ‘stupid’ though?” you had teased in an effort to lighten the mood. Mattie had not been amused.
“Anything that jeopardizes your life is stupid, you get me, jiě?” Your brother had growled, his voice flinty and hard.
“I get you, dì.”
“I know you sacrificed for me so I could have an easier life, but I don’t want it. I’m 24 years old and I don’t need it. What I need is my fucking sister to be alive.” Mattie had glared, his hands fisted at his side. “I need you to live, Y/N.”
You had stared at him and perhaps had seen him for the first time. He was no longer a child. He did not need you to take care of him anymore.
“Okay, Mattie,” you had said.
Mattie had stared back, unsure if he could trust you. You hadn’t blamed him. “Okay,” he’d replied as he dragged you into a tight embrace. “Okay.”
Your little brother, who’d established that he was no longer quite so little, had held you for a long time. Somehow, the weight of living had seemed even more ponderous than all your other debts.
You were dragged back to the present when Alton said, “I have a proposal, mèi.” He looked as if he was trying not to seem worried and settled on nonchalance.
“I don’t even get a fancy dinner?” you quipped.
“Dinners are for ladies who put out.”
“Problematic.”
“Just checking to see if you were feeling more like yourself,” he replied. “Glad to see you’re still putting me in my place.”
You grunted. Even this little bit of banter took a lot out of you and you wanted to lay back down, but you didn’t want to face Alton’s judgment.
“What’s your proposal?” you asked. Anything to move the painful conversation along.
“I know you hate feeling like a charity case — and that I can assure you until we’re old and gray and still, you would not believe me,” he said.
You nodded at his assessment. He wasn’t wrong.
“So, hear me out: you want to earn your keep? Then I have a list of demands.”
You raised an irate eyebrow. “Demands?”
“Alright, alright. Suggested work specs,” Alton amended.
“I really can’t work on music, Alton,” you whispered. “So if that’s the work, you’ll be even more disappointed in me.”
Alton rolled his eyes. “I’m only allowing this bullshit about you disappointing me slide — as if you could ever — because I’ll be there in person in June and I don’t want to fight before I get to LA,” he said.
You gestured for him to continue.
“Your work is to physically get out of bed — and stay out — before noon every day.” Alton held up a hand to forestall your burgeoning nitpicking. “And yes, including weekends. And no, you cannot just use another bed.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I also will need you to eat at least one nutritionally balanced meal a day as well as do some sort of physical activity twice a week. Oh, and spend at least fifteen minutes in the sun every day.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You ask too much. You know how I feel about the sun.”
“Mèi, I’m worried about you.” Alton’s face softened. “You spend too much time in your head.”
You had nothing to say. Panic pulsed at the edges of your mind. Surely, he wasn’t asking too much of you? And yet, it felt like too much.
“I love you, Y/N. You know this, right? Please tell me you know this.”
You nodded, a curt, abbreviated motion. “Just know I’m making you pay for the laser treatments if I get sun spots.”
“If you must,” you sighed, hoping Alton could tell you were teasing even if the tone didn’t sound quite right.
“I must,” he insisted.
After Alton ended the call, you sank back under your covers and thought of his blatant ploy to get you back into the motions of living. If you were to start working tomorrow, you might as well get in one last wallow.
You did not know the way out, but you hoped maybe duty and obligation to Alton would carry you through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“TFW old friends refuse to let you accept judgment instead of grace.” - Y/N L/N, Twitter (January 2024)
January 2024
“It’s good to see you again, noona,” Jungkook said as he wrapped you in a tight hug. “Don’t let it go so long next time,” he added, leaving unsaid so much of what Taehyung and the rest of his members had wanted to say for the last few years.
You flushed prettily, eyes remorseful and shimmering. “Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me,” you said as you sat down in one of the private booths at Ossu Seiromushi.
It had always been one of your favorite places to eat. Taehyung appreciated the fact that even after all these years, you still remembered to support Jin’s older brother. It reminded him that though you had dropped off the face of the earth, you still cared in tiny, ingrained ways.
The four of you made slightly strained small talk. You asked about their year-end performances and families while steering clear of mentions of your own. Taehyung could not help but notice your near constant sipping of the hot sake and how you obviously felt ill at ease. His heart twinged at the years lost between you. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m sure you don’t really care about how we feel about the weather and our schedules, noona,” he broke in gently. At Jungkook’s shocked gasp, Taehyung wondered if perhaps he was not as gentle as he’d thought.
Panic flicked across your countenance before you shut it down, smoothing over your features. “I suppose you’re right, Taehyung,” you said.
Taehyung pretended he didn’t hear the quaver. He loved you, but he owed it to his leader to ask. Your elusiveness had gone on long enough. “Where have you been, noona? What happened between you and Namjoon hyung? And why did you come back?”
“Taehyung!” rebuked Jimin.
You placed a hand on Jimin’s arm. “It’s alright, Jimin. You deserve answers. Feel free to tell your hyungs, just — just please — let me tell Namjoon myself?”
At Taehyung’s nod, you downed the remainder of your sake and launched into the most heartbreaking story he’d heard in a long time. He wanted you to stop but it was as if now that the dam was released, you couldn’t. Before he knew it, he and his bandmates were sobbing and reaching for their own cups of sake just to make it through.
Taehyung wondered if he had ever known you.
“Noona,” breathed Jungkook. “Oh, noona. I’m so sorry.” His eyes welled over again and you squeezed his outstretched hand across the table.
“I’m sorry for laying it all on you like this,” you said. “I suppose there’s no way to ease into it — at least not when I have so much to answer for.”
“We would have helped you, noona. Surely you know this?” accused Jimin.
Taehyung could tell he was seething just underneath his calm exterior. An angry Jimin was terrifying to behold. You sighed. Taehyung could tell you’d likely heard this from any number of your friends — especially Alton. You knew enough wealthy people.
“I know,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am perhaps a little too proud.”
Jimin barked a startled laugh. “I suppose you are,” he conceded.
“I saw you ask for help all the time though,” Taehyung observed.
“Family’s different,” you said. “You all have such good and kind families — how could I even begin to tell you what my father was like? I —” You swallowed. “My mother disowned me,” you continued dejectedly. “What if — what if I told you everything and you wanted nothing to do with me? If my own parents didn’t want me — how could any of you?”
Your voice broke and you threw your napkin into your lap. You gazed longingly at your empty sake cup and it seemed to Taehyung that you’d come to a decision. You picked up the cup and settled it back on the table upside down.
“We love you, noona,” Jungkook said, resolute. “You’re good through to your core.”
“I — I really am not,” you croaked.
“You think we can’t read people after over a decade in this business?” Jungkook continued. “We’re not naive children anymore, noona. We can’t afford to let the wrong people in our circles — and you’re good people. That’s why it hurt so much when you disappeared. We couldn’t understand how all seven of us — especially hyung — could have gotten it so wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter what your father did or what your mother said. We’re only upset because you had to go through it alone and without us. We love you,” declared Jimin. His tone brooked no dissent.
Taehyung figured it was time for him to say something lest you thought he disagreed. “I’m glad you finally told us, noona. And I’m glad that writing your memoir was healing. I look forward to reading the Korean translation.”
Taehyung’s subject change brought the conversation back to safer territory and he was relieved to see your body finally relax. The four of you chatted a bit more until you looked at the time.
“I know it isn’t even close to midnight except the jetlag is still kicking my ass. But before I forget, I have something for you.” You got up and reached into the shopping bag you’d brought with you and handed them each a gift bag. “It’s nothing fancy, but I — uh, I hope you like it.”
Taehyung took out the tissue wrapped package and ripped it open. He found a thick cable-knit scarf in a deep, forest green shot through with silver-gray embellishes. When he looked carefully, he noted a cuddly bear embroidered on one end and a tiger cub embroidered on the other. He caressed the soft cotton fibers and felt himself choke up.
“This is beautiful,” murmured Jimin. “Where did you find it?”
Taehyung looked up to see Jungkook and Jimin holding up similar scarves except the maknae’s was in charcoal gray and red accents and embroidered bunnies while Jimin’s was a rich indigo blue and silver-gray with embroidered chicks.
“Ah,” you hemmed, flushing slightly. “I knit them. I hope you like them.”
“Noona, I didn’t know you knew how to knit,” gushed Jungkook. “I love it.”
Your mouth quirked ruefully. “I had a lot of spare time,” you said. “I made one for each of you — if you don’t mind passing them along?”
You placed the shopping bag into Jimin’s hands and he nodded.
“I — I don’t know if Namjoon would want — he must hate me but I, I didn’t want to leave him out.” Your voice faltered and you cleared your throat. “Maybe if I — if you could hold onto his until you think it’s the right time?”
Jimin looked torn and Jungkook’s face was filled with anguish.
“Of course, noona,” Taehyung said, wanting to relieve some of the burden Jimin likely felt as the eldest of their condensed group.
“It was good to see you again, noona,” Jimin said as he stood to hug you, his voice thick. “Don’t be a stranger in March, okay?”
You nodded, blinking rapidly. Taehyung and his members chattered among themselves, gathering their things to give you a moment to compose yourself.
When they were outside, Jimin requested one last photo and it hit Taehyung once more just how much he’d missed you over the last three years. You had been like a big sister to him and he had relied on your steady and indulging presence for so much. You had kept him grounded.
He watched as you caught a cab and waved as the car pulled away.
It still smarted when he thought of how much of yourself you’d hidden away out of fear and a misguided attempt to shield them. Maybe it was time they protected you for a change.
———
“The chickens have come home to roost.” - Y/N L/N, Twitter (March 2024)
“What does it mean when the man you’ve spent your life with calls you abusive? Does that mean he saw something inside you — something you thought you’d hidden?” - “Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope” (Red Lantern Publishing House, October 2023)
March 2024
Taehyung almost ran into you as you rounded the corner at top speed. “Noona, are you okay?”
It was a stupid question. You obviously were not.
“Do you want me to sit with you?” he asked, though if he was truthful, he was more worried about Namjoon. If you were a wreck then how was Namjoon faring?
“No, I — I’m fine. Really,” you lied.
Taehyung chose to believe it and let you go as he hurried to Namjoon’s studio.
“Hyung?” Taehyung said as he opened the door right after knocking.
All he needed to see was Namjoon’s head buried in his hands and Taehyung was at his leader’s side, throwing his arms around the older man. He just let Namjoon turn into him and weep on his shoulders. Taehyung felt it was about time Namjoon let others carry his burdens, too.
“I suppose you know what happened?” Namjoon grated out after collecting himself.
“Just now? Or in noona’s missing years?”
“I guess everything.” Namjoon shrugged. “You must hate me.”
Taehyung wrapped his arms around the older man again and squeezed. “Why would I hate you, hyung? You didn’t know. How could you be blamed for something you knew nothing of?”
“Am I a monster?” he choked out. “Is that why she didn’t trust me? She tried to explain and I only said horrible things —” Namjoon started sobbing again. “I’m just so, so angry. I thought if I just got a reason from her, I would feel better — but I feel worse. I’m even angrier and I didn’t think it would be possible.”
“Ah, hyung,” Taehyung soothed. “Of course you’re angry. It’s a terrible situation in general. You both did the best you could.”
“Did I, though? I don’t think I did the best of anything today except be a dick.” Namjoon wiped his face on his shirt.
Taehyung smoothed his hand over Namjoon’s back in small, comforting circles.
“You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be a dick and not have a perfect response,” said Taehyung. “You’re a person and it’s all been a shock to you. It doesn’t matter even though now you know what happened. She still hurt you, hyung.”
“She really did.” Namjoon shuddered a wet breath. “And the worst part is that I still love her. I love her so much, Tae.”
Taehyung just gazed at his friend sorrowfully. “I know, hyung. I know.”
“I’m so stupid. She’s clearly moved on. As soon as Alton saw an opening, he took it.”
“What?”
“You remember Alton. I always hated him. It was her perfect revenge,” mumbled Namjoon.
“Noona’s not with Alton. She’s not with anyone,” Taehyung said carefully. “She hasn’t dated anyone since she left.”
“She’s not dating Alton? But — but she made it seem like she was?”
“Did she ever say that or did you assume something and she didn’t disagree?”
Namjoon paused. “Oh.” Namjoon looked up and Taehyung hated the spark of hope in his friend’s eyes.
“I thought you were angry. Angrier than you were before,” reasoned Taehyung.
“I am. But that doesn’t negate how much I still love her.” Namjoon hung his head again. “I’m pathetic.”
“I thought you were going to try and love yourself a little more, hyung,” Taehyung said gently. “You feel what you feel and what you feel is real.”
“It’s been years. Why are you still quoting ‘Frozen 2’?” Namjoon questioned with no heat.
Taehyung shrugged. “I can’t help that it’s valid.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon’s entire body slumped.
“First, give yourself some time to absorb this new information and process your grief and anger,” suggested Taehyung. “And then possibly consider that the noona you love is not the same as the noona she is now — and perhaps she never was.”
Namjoon rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “When did you get so wise, Tae?”
“I’ve always been this way,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you finally realized it.”
“I suppose you’re right,” conceded Namjoon. He leaned back into the couch and spread out his body and legs. “Thanks, Tae.”
“‘Course, hyung,” he replied. “We’ve got you.”
“Yeah, you really do.”
———
“Y/N L/N returns to her esoteric roots with the scathing ‘Whore of Babylon’ (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019). While her previous two albums were more mainstream and still managed to hit hard and fun, longtime fans (including this critic) are euphoric at what seems to be L/N revisiting the deconstruction of patriarchy and Christianity. We missed her skewering society while couching it all in brilliant barbs and badass beats.
“The album opens with ‘Revelations,’ a wordplay on how L/N bares all as well as the closing book of the Christian Bible where she gets the title ‘Whore of Babylon.’ L/N examines how patriarchy punishes ambitious women who buck expectations and seize what they want. L/N references Lady MacBeth and kumihos on their own tracks, and in ‘Harlot’s Portion,’ name drops famous biblical fallen women such as the woman at the well and Rahab, the prostitute who helped the Israelites capture Jericho and became the ancestor of Boaz and thus, Jesus.
“But without a doubt, ‘Defenestration’ is a love song and rallying cry for her fandom which is also called the Jezebels. While the Bible paints Jezebel as the harlot queen, used throughout history to vilify beautiful women and those who used makeup, L/N flips the insult much as she did with her Korean debut album ‘Shameless.’ Instead, she tells a story of a rightful ruler whose son was murdered and resisted a coup but then was ultimately thrown out a window by the followers of a power hungry prophet who claimed to be on the side of God.
“Smashing.” - The Hankyoreh, July 2019
“After two mini-albums that clearly catered to trends and veered away from Y/N L/N’s signature ‘fuck you’ to mainstream tastes, L/N is back in fine form. ‘Whore of Babylon’ (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019) is everything we hoped the previous two releases would be: experimental, speaking truth to power, and a slap in the face to incels and religious conservatives.” - Rolling Stone Korea, July 2019
“Fucking fantastic.” - NME, July 2019
[1] Revelations [1:06] [2] Harlot’s Portion [3:48] [3] Out, Damned Spot! [4:07] [4] Se7en [3:15] [5] Casting the First Stone [2:56] [6] Pluck Out Your Eye [4:22] [7] Kumiho [3:39] [8] Until the Stars All Fall [4:30] [9] I’m Glorious [2:45] [10] Defenestration [3:27] - Track list, “Whore of Babylon” (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019)
Score us victorious I am utterly meritorious Notorious, uproarious I want you to adore us
No abstentions or declensions Predicated on inflections Apprehensions, dimensions You have no comprehension
Excoriated, excruciated Your vision’s become corrugated Adjudicated until I abdicated I shall not be eradicated
Censorious, spurious Dismiss the vainglorious Greek chorus Implore us, laborious The weight of story is glorious - “I’m Glorious” (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019)
“Big brain energy + big clit energy = WoB!!! We stan a BAMF!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Can’t wait for the backlash from tiny, insecure men and the religious hypocrites. Jezebels, go!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“oh fuck the mv for im glorious is glorious” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Did she get a new tattoo? If so, who is the lucky fucker who gets to see ‘taste and see that the lord is good’ on her inner thigh?” - Twitter user, July 2019
“all the leather and corsets and chains and boots and bursts of color and lingerie and tiddies and ass cheeks and *faints*” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Y/N kink activated” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Y/N reading thirst tweets on BuzzFeed is everything! The way she isn’t phased by a damn thing.” - Twitter user, July 2019
“I love how Y/N doesn’t need any fucking explanations. And shit, that low chuckle of hers combined with her eyebrow raise? STEP ON ME, QUEEN!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“SHE READ MY TWEET SHE READ MY TWEET FUCK SHIT SHE WINKED AASKJFADSKDF ASDF;LKJASDF;KLJASDKFJS” - Twitter user, July 2019
“DID SHE ACTUALLY TELL THE PERSON TO OPEN THEIR MOUTH AFTER THEY ASKED FOR HER TO SPIT ON THEM OMG FUCK ME” - Twitter user, July 2019
July 2019
“Oh, shit.”
Taehyung looked up at Namjoon’s comment and noted how flushed his leader was. “You alright, hyung?”
“Noona dropped her new M/V,” he replied, voice cracking.
Jungkook lurched at Namjoon’s phone. “I wanna see! Is it good? She wouldn’t send us any pictures from the set and made us promise not to watch teasers.” When Namjoon wouldn’t relinquish his phone, Jungkook’s face lit up in mischief. “You do know we can just look it up on our own devices, right? Where’s my iPad?”
“No — it’s inappropriate!” Namjoon choked out.
Yoongi smirked. “You can’t stop us, Joon. It’s on the internet and we’re all of age.”
“That’s beside the point. She’s my girlfriend.”
“Oh, fuck. Now I really want to see,” quipped Seokjin. “Hurry up, Kook.”
Taehyung and the rest of his members knew that Namjoon tried to keep his jealous streak in check, and it rarely reared its head enough for them to take advantage. So, of course he joined the rest of his members to watch Y/N’s latest M/V just to piss him off. Taehyung knew from Namjoon’s lack of further protest that his leader knew it was a lost cause anyway.
From the opening black and white shot of Y/N’s back — naked except for a tiny leather waist cincher — Taehyung did not quite know how to react in an appropriate manner. The inky dragon, prowling tiger, and cyborg rooster rippled down your muscular back while the hanja at your neck stood out, bold and fierce. He’d never much paid attention to your tattoos but this time, he was mesmerized.
Plus, the globes of your ass were pert, round, and bare. Fuck.
“Is she rapping ‘I’m Glorious’ over a sample of Biggie’s ‘Notorious’?” Hoseok asked. “Oh, she’s fucking amazing.”
“What does her tattoo say? Is that new?” Yoongi paused the video and squinted at the screen.
Now that the video was stopped, Taehyung stared closely, too. He followed a beautiful script up the length of your inner thigh except it was either too hard to read or he was too distracted by the lines of your leg.
He heard a burst of laughter from Yoongi. “‘Taste and see that the Lord is good,’” he read in English. “Y/N is fucking hilarious.” At Namjoon’s grumble, Yoongi added, “Well, Namjoon. How does the Lord taste?”
“Is it real?” Jimin couldn’t resist asking. “When did noona get it?” At Namjoon’s sputtering, Jimin collapsed over himself cackling. “You haven’t seen it yet, have you? You didn’t even know!”
“We’ve been on tour!” Namjoon defended hotly. “Noona said she had a surprise for me and — ah fuck. I won’t even see her until next week. She did this on purpose,” he groaned. “Why is she like this?”
Taehyung joined his bandmates in their good-natured ribbing. “Doesn’t seem like you mind the way she is, hyung.”
“So, what’s this BuzzFeed thirst tweet video with noona that YouTube is recommending next?” asked Hoseok.
“NOOOOOOO!” cried Namjoon in despair. “Why does she do this to me? This is her revenge on me being on tour this past year and half, isn’t it? She just gets hotter and adds secret tattoos and flirts with her fans and I can only watch through a screen.”
“Stop pretending that you hate it,” Seokjin snickered. “You love that you’re the only one she lets touch her.”
Taehyung ignored the twin twists of desire and envy roiling in his belly as he watched the BuzzFeed video, only understanding some of the references. He understood enough, though. Many of the tweets were similar to what he saw under his own.
He divested his body’s response from his mind. You were Namjoon’s girl. Had been for years. He knew better than to lust after you. They all knew better. And yet, sometimes Taehyung could not help but wish for someone like you in his life.
His hyung was the luckiest man alive.
———
“Former singer Y/N L/N is back in Seoul after a three year absence but this time, it’s as an author. The Korean translation of her New York Times bestselling book, ‘Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope,’ has surprisingly flown off the shelves and has even broken records in Korea for books written by a celebrity. Likely, many gossip hounds are curious for clues about who her mystery boyfriend of five years was.
“They will get more than they bargained for. ‘Telling’ is a gorgeous piece of writing — and utterly heartbreaking. L/N said she hoped that her book would shine a light on domestic violence in Asian American households as well as breaking stigmas about mental health and suicide. She wished to give courage and hope for those who are suffering.” - The Korean Herald, June 2024
“No surprise, Y/N L/N is in the headlines for stirring up controversy again. Men’s rights activists and multiple government officials are calling for a ban on ‘Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope’ because she promotes harmful feminism and lacks filial piety. Extra security is being hired for her reading events and local authorities are recommending attendants proceed with caution.” - JoongAng Ilbo, June 2024
“I’m so excited!! I got tickets to Y/N’s book tour stop in Seoul!! I wonder if her old labelmates will attend to support her?” - Twitter user, June 2024
[ + 107,892, - 12,389] “Y/N is a disgrace. A real man would have kicked her to the curb years ago. She had an entire album called ‘Whore of Babylon’ a few years back and now she’s back with this shit. Why do we keep allowing a self-admitted prostitute back into this country? Send this Chinese slut back to where she came from.” - internet user, Pann, June 2024
June 2024
It never failed to surprise Taehyung when he saw all the security and protesters surrounding your events. In theory, he understood it. After all, he was constantly protected by a detail due to his international celebrity status, but you were markedly more lowkey. He could never grasp what it was about you that enraged so many men.
Could they not see how you were a warrior artist of unparalleled caliber? Or maybe that was the problem; they could and were terrified.
He followed his bandmates into Starfield Library and gazed at the 13 meter book display. Though he didn’t think it was your style of bookstore, he understood that the venue was chosen to accommodate BTS, TXT, and some of their other HYBE groups.
“I thought we were supposed to be a surprise,” whispered Jungkook. “But it seems the press already knew?”
“Of course the press knew,” Namjoon remarked acidly. “How else could they drum up publicity for noona’s book? We’re here to do our part. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have flown back from Japan and just continued with the Asia leg of our tour.”
“Why did everyone tell me it was a surprise then?” Jungkook pouted.
Namjoon sighed loudly. “Because it’s a surprise to the general public, Jungkook. They probably didn’t want us to spoil it.”
“Like I’m the one they need to worry about,” Jungkook grumbled back.
“Are you going to be okay?” asked Seokjin quietly. “Yoongi or I can speak if they ask for our opinion. I can be extra ridiculous today if you want.”
Taehyung’s heart warmed at the gesture. Even though he knew Seokjin loved Namjoon, he also knew how much his eldest hyung adored and passionately protected you. Between Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook, you were well defended among his bandmates.
It was good to see Seokjin remind his leader at a critical moment that he was on Team Namjoon, too.
“I’m fine,” Namjoon snapped. He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m fine, hyung,” he tried again, this time with more care. “Sorry for being a dick, Kookie.”
“‘S fine, hyung,” replied Jungkook, eyes wide and full of concern. “Let’s grab a seat, yeah?”
Taehyung and the rest of his bandmates joined the section where all the HYBE artists were expected to sit and chatted with the members of TXT in the row behind them. He glanced over and saw you sitting by yourself in the very front, back erect and proper. He took a moment to take you in and understood exactly why Namjoon still wasn’t over you.
You had buzzed the sides of your hair into a perfectly faded undercut leaving a shaggy mohawk that was styled like the rock star you used to be. Your ears were covered in so many piercings it resembled armor and Taehyung mused it probably was meant as such. He couldn’t see the rest of your outfit but it was black and framed the shape of your back in flattering angles.
He wondered why you were alone and was about to discuss with his members about greeting you when all 180cm of Alton Kuang swept in, clad in Tom Ford and looking every bit the chaebol he was. Alton crushed you to him in a bruising hug and after, you melted into his tender and intimate touches.
Maybe Namjoon had been right and it was another omission of yours that they’d missed. Or maybe it was a recent development. With you, they could never really be sure. You sure seemed like Alton’s girl through and through.
Taehyung flicked his gaze to Namjoon who had stiffened in his seat and was being comforted by Hoseok, who had tasked himself with occupying their leader. As much as Taehyung wanted to support you, he really wished it didn’t have to be in such a public setting and at the expense of Namjoon. The whole situation just made him sad and he wasn’t even a main participant!
Taehyung decided to peruse the program instead and before he knew it, the program was starting. He clapped politely in all the expected places, waved when BTS was highlighted and thanked, and then, it was your turn to read.
You walked up, head held high and looking regal in a sweeping modern Tang Dynasty style jacket covered in embroidered white cranes. Your movements revealed glimpses of a lacy bralette and black linen harem pants paired with black stiletto boots.
Taehyung’s breath caught. He’d forgotten just how devastating you could be and sent up a prayer for Namjoon. They would all need one.
I don’t know why you’re here,but I know why Iam,you began.
Taehyung found himself seduced by your reading voice, a resonant contralto so different from your normal speaking voice. If he had heard your reading voice without context, he would have never connected the sonorous, rich timbre with you. You were so deep and he was lost.
I write this book as an altar; it is my pile of rocks in the middle of the Jordan, you continued. In the future, my children will ask me, “What do these rocks mean?” I will tell them, “The water almost swept me away but the people who loved me would not let me drown. These rocks will always remind me: I was here. I am here. I made a promise, and I will continue to be here.”
Taehyung had always appreciated your lyricism before, though he’d paid more attention to your vocal abilities and musical stylings. It wasn’t that your words hadn’t been important — it was more that he had never been a lyrics guy. And now that he heard your unvarnished prose, it occurred to him for perhaps the first time that you were an extraordinary writer.
By the time you were done with your excerpt, there was not a dry eye in the house.
The emcee made a few remarks and the program switched to the question and answer portion from both members of the press and the floor in general. All seemed to be going smoothly until a male journalist representing a conservative paper got the mic.
“Some say that you’re just desperate for attention — that your suicide attempt was faked and that your book is an attempt to revive your lackluster singing career,” the man inquired. “That as per usual, you relied on the sensationalism of sex instead of actual talent to make headlines. What would you say in the face of such observations?”
Taehyung saw Hoseok place a placating hand on Namjoon’s knee and forced himself not to react. He would not give the press any satisfaction of provoking any drama from him or his members.
The corner of your mouth lifted and Taehyung knew to brace for impact.
“I would say that it seems as if you’re projecting,” you replied serenely as people in the audience stifled nervous snickers.
The man sneered. “Don’t think you can dodge the question with a quippy remark. We know what you really are.”
Your face was unfailingly polite. “And what am I?”
“An opportunistic upstart leveraging all your scandals in the absence of talent,” he said.
All the oxygen snuffed out of the room.
“Is that right?” you drawled, your eyes belying your lazy calm. “Then it is as you say.”
“That’s it?” the man challenged. “That’s all you have to say?”
You shrugged. “Let’s not pretend you care about facts or truths or my interpretation of them. We all shape our own narratives and you have already chosen yours. It’s always nice to see new fiction writers make a name for themselves.”
Taehyung wanted to cheer and some audience members actually clapped as you dismissed the man and said, “Next question?”
The rest of the time continued without incident. Of course, there were several attempts at asking for spoilers about your mystery boyfriend, but you accepted them goodnaturedly and skillfully sidestepped the attempts. There were even several moving moments where fans and readers explained how you comforted them in their hardship or gave them courage to ask for help.
Before Taehyung knew it, the emcee was explaining logistics for the ensuing book signing and then ushering BTS and his label’s groups into group photos with you. He waved quickly to you as he was shepherded out of the venue and the last he saw was you addressing and signing one book after another.
He wished they had more time to properly celebrate your book, but they were rushing back to Japan for the start of his last tour. They’d decided to start their military service in September at the same time as Namjoon so that they could all be back together as a group of seven as quickly as possible.
Taehyung did not realize that he wouldn’t see you again for another two years.
Ha-joon — I don’t know how you did it, man. I’ve been here a week and we’re going to starve. I had to buy a new house because we’re worthless and spoiled and cannot get our lives together. Why didn’t you tell me you were doing all the cooking and cleaning? If you ever decide you need a change in career, there will always be a place in my organizations for a logistics and solutions king such as yourself. - Text from Alton Kuang to Baek Ha-joon, June 2022
Forced Y/N into all sorts of outside and physical activities. I think your sister hates me. Actually, I know she does because she tells me at least ten times a day. This is awesome. - Text from Alton Kuang to Mattie L/N, June 2022
Please take lots of videos and send them to me. Ohohohoh make her go hiking and visit museums. She despises nature and art. - Text from Mattie L/N to Alton Kuang, June 2022
HALP I’M GONNA MURDER ALTON HE’S THE WORST HE MAKES ME GO OUTSIDE YOU KNOW I DON’T BELIEVE IN WATER OR THE SUN OR ART - Text from Y/N L/N to Mattie L/N, June 2022
On a scale of 1 to nuclear, how upset do you think your sister would be if I threw her a surprise birthday party? - Text from Alton Kuang to Mattie L/N, July 2022
You really like skating right up to the edge of death, don’t you? I’m in. - Text from Mattie L/N to Alton Kuang, July 2022
You are cordially invited to a surprise party celebrating Y/N’s 29th birthday on the weekend of August 26-28 in Malibu, CA. Details to come. - Text from Alton Kuang to various friends and family of Y/N L/N, July 2022
STFU HAS Y/N BEEN IN LA THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
Um, no? - Text from Alton Kuang to Ellie Poon, July 2022
All men do is lie, huh? - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
Is she okay? - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
She’d be better if you showed up for her surprise party. ;) - Text from Alton Kuang to Ellie Poon, July 2022
Does this shit actually work on people? - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
You tell me. - Text from Alton Kuang to Ellie Poon, July 2022
I’ll need a larger sample size. - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
Oh, I have a larger sample size. - Text from Alton Kuang to Ellie Poon, July 2022
So predictable. Pics or it didn’t happen. - Text from Ellie Poon to Alton Kuang, July 2022
August 2022
“Promise you won’t get mad,” said Alton.
You leveled a pair of guarded eyes at your dear friend. “I promise no such thing.”
“Ok, fair. But like, hear me out before you go ballistic,” he replied, both hands held out placatingly.
You tilted your head in a wary prompt.
“So, I wanted it to be a surprise but then it occurred to me that you hate surprises — except it’s a little too late and uh —”
“What did you do, Alton?”
“Happy Birthday, Jiě,” your brother said as he popped into the kitchen.
Before you could register his presence, Ellie, Sarah, and Angela followed in his wake and screamed variations of “Happy Birthday, you sexy bitch!” As if that wasn’t already somewhat overwhelming, the next thing you knew, Danny, your best friend from high school, strolled in, too.
“Surprise?” Alton threw out weak jazz hands and seemed very unsure.
If you were honest, you weren’t particularly pleased about the sudden influx of people in Alton’s kitchen. Even though you loved them dearly, they all knew you a little too well to let you hide effectively. Guilt crashed through you as you acknowledged that you had a lot to answer for — especially to your girlfriends who all lived in the area.
You wanted to scream. Instead, because you loved your brother and your friends, you acquiesced into the role expected from you. You screamed, “Oh my god!” You opened your arms wide. You embraced your loved ones tight and long.
You lied with every molecule of your being.
———
Ellie exhaled an impressive amount of smoke considering it was from a vape pen. You idly admired her lung capacity.
“When did you start vaping?” you asked. “I didn’t know you needed the nicotine hit.”
Ellie chuckled. “Oh, you darling. I’m vaping weed, honey.”
You tried to be cool. “Oh,” you gulped.
You were no longer in Korea and though you had known people who smoked marijuana during college, you had never been tempted to try it. The idea of getting high and losing control had seemed anathema even then. When you tried to reason out on how it was any different than how you now used alcohol, you came up at a loss. But either way, you’d been in Taiwan and Korea where cannabis was highly illegal. You did not fuck with it.
“I know you’re judging me,” she said, still staring over your balcony and down at the pool instead of looking at you directly. “It helps me chill the fuck out — you know how I get anxious.”
“Ah,” you grunted.
“It got really bad after Ryan left me.”
“Fuck, Ellie. I’m sorry.” Guilt flooded your brain. You were the worst of friends.
She took another hit. “Just another casualty of COVID,” Ellie cracked. “Apparently, I was a workaholic and emotionally unavailable.”
“He’s a fool.”
“He wasn’t wrong. I did work too much and was emotionally unavailable.” She sighed. “Nothing like being forced in your husband’s presence 24/7 to make you realize that you’ve grown apart and that one of you no longer wants to try and work things out.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Ellie,” you said. “I’m sorry you had to go through such a hard thing alone.”
“You had your own problems.” Ellie was far too gracious.
The two of you sat in silence as the sun continued setting and the sky slowly darkened.
“Does it work? You don’t feel too high to function or out of control?”
“You know those times when your brain is just a bundle of anxiety and useless and you have to wait until the voices quiet so you can finally think?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s like that. Antidepressants made me feel too wonky and I hated it so I tried cannabis instead. You’ll have to figure out what works best for you — or if it’s not your bag — but it’s been the only reason I could make it through the day sometimes.” Ellie passed you the vape pen. “Wanna try? I know having us here has been hard for you.”
“I love having you all here,” you protested.
“Hmmmm,” she hummed. “They can both be true.”
You stared at the innocuous looking pen. You’d vaped regular e-cigarettes before — was this really any different? “Is it going to make me hungry all the time?”
She laughed. “Maybe. But more likely you’ll get super horny.”
“Hungry for that dick, huh?”
“At least you live with Alton. He looks like he’d be more than happy to help you with that.”
“You know we’re not like that, Ellie.”
“He bought you a Lamborghini for your birthday. I don’t know what you’re like.”
“Not like how you’re implying, s’all.” It had been too long without Ellie in your life. You’d forgotten the roundabout way she could be sometimes; you connected the dots. “He’s all yours. Don’t break his heart too badly.”
“The only thing I plan on breaking is his bed,” she retorted. “I don’t know how you’ve been able to resist him all these months. Like, I get before — you were with Namjoon. But now? I would have been on his dick as soon as he arrived in LA.”
“I could barely get out of bed when Alton got here,” you said. “Now he’s the source of all my pain and suffering. His dick is the last thing on my mind.”
Ellie snorted in disbelief.
“It’s true. You know he’s making me take surfing lessons with him?” You took a pull from your beer. “He makes me go on hikes and then roped me into playing beach volleyball with him and some of his bros. All that salt and sun — I have had to spend a fortune on skin care.”
“Remember when you used to start off every morning writing morning pages?” Ellie asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“You mean when I’d write three pages of crap every morning? I recall hating it,” you remarked. You were not sure where this was going.
“I decided to try it this last year. You might want to take it back up,” she said. “You seem near to bursting with words you refuse to say.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” you replied, stomach dropping.
“You keep so much inside now — it’s not good for your health,” she replied sadly. Ellie stood up, brushing her clothes absentmindedly. “I know you don’t want us to worry — and perhaps your thoughts aren’t coherent enough to speak out loud. But morning pages might help when the voices are on loop or the lies in your head get too loud.”
“What would I even write about?”
“Whatever you want, Y/N. There are no rules except that you fill three pages.” Ellie bent over and wrapped you in a tight hug. “I love you, roomie.”
Your throat constricted. “Love you, too.”
She slid open the balcony door to your room.
“You forgot your pen,” you called after her.
“Keep it, babe. You seem to need it more than I do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Sometimes the idea of a multiverse is comforting. Out of my infinite versions, surely there exists a me who is happy. Other times, the thought that there are countless iterations who are just as — if not worse off — I can’t breathe.” -Y/N L/N, Twitter (April 2026)
April 2026
“You know it’s not true, right?” asked Taehyung.
You froze in the doorway.
“What’s not true? That the musical parts of me are broken? I think I would know.”
Taehyung carefully gentled his voice. “The part about you letting your father die. You didn’t abandon him.” He refrained from going to you. You did not seem as if you’d appreciate his touch. “He made his choices.”
“I abandoned him.”
“You freed yourself,” he insisted. “You’re right: he wasn’t a monster. But your father, the man, was killing you.”
Even from several feet away, he could see you tremble as you turned back to face him.
“It was just money. Let’s not overdramatize.” You sounded so mean and Taehyung almost flinched.
“What would have happened if you were beholden to the Lau family in your father’s stead, noona? Alton hyung told me —”
“Since when do you talk to Alton?”
“You think he just lets anyone stay at his home with you? You’d think Yoongi hyung and I were common criminals with the way he investigated us.”
Taehyung never wanted to go through such an experience ever again. He shuddered at the memory of Alton’s congenial demeanor as he had threatened Taehyung with utmost and complete destruction should either of them harm you. Even the unflappable Yoongi hyung had seemed rattled. Either that or he’d been aroused. Taehyung wasn’t sure which would’ve been more disturbing.
“At any rate, hyung said that the entire family was dangerous — especially their youngest son. Hyung’d said that he was a known abuser of women and had been uncommonly obsessed with you.”
“I would’ve handled it,” you replied.
Taehyung wasn’t so sure about that. “Maybe,” he acceded. “But at what cost to yourself?”
Your hands tightened into hard fists. “We’ll never know,” you grated out.
“Thank you for telling me, noona,” he said, attempting to mollify you. That, and he really was grateful. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“You can tell Yoongi,” you replied. “I — I don’t know that I can say it again.”
“Okay,” he replied. He decided he would ask if you wanted a hug. “Noona, could I hug you?”
“I — I don’t think I can handle that right now, Tae,” you said, voice tiny. At his disappointment, you added, “I appreciate you asking, though.”
“Of course, noona,” Taehyung said. “You know we love you so very much, right?”
You gave him a curt nod and left him alone in the kitchen. Taehyung tried not to feel discouraged or wonder how he was to act as if he were in love with you — let alone enact the love scenes — if you couldn’t even let him hug you.
———
“When blips think they’re mains. Oh, bebe. A vague subtweet is the best you can aspire to.” - Y/N L/N, Twitter (May 2026)
May 2026
“Do you want to go home?” Taehyung inquired in your ear as he slid next to where you stood by the outdoor bar, noting only that the white man speaking to you bristled when Taehyung’s fingers possessively grazed your bare arms. It always amused Taehyung how differently secure and insecure men reacted to him.
You shook your head lightly. “Taehyung, this is Gary,” you introduced in English. “Gary, this is Taehyung.”
“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung said in careful English as he extended his hand in the way of westerners.
Gary’s handshake was unnecessarily firm. Poor Gary, so eager to prove his masculinity.
“How do you know Y/N, Taehyung?” Strange how Gary sounded so protective and oddly clingy.
“We work together,” Taehyung said, sticking to the agreed upon script.
Though you had assured him that your college friend, an Allen Tsao, had only invited your mutual college friends — most of whom were already married and had kids — the longer people didn’t realize who he was, the better. Taehyung was banking on the racist nature of Americans assuming all Asians were the same, though most of your friends from college seemed to be Asian so perhaps this man wouldn’t actually be confused.
Taehyung just hoped that Allen was used to high profile guests due to his occupation of being a movie producer. You had mentioned he was someone to watch, producing edgy indie and Asian American films. It certainly seemed like he was a big deal due to the fact that there was a live trio playing light jazz and pop in the corner of the patio as well as an actual manned bar for a simple backyard party — well, as simple as the backyard of any Malibu mansion could be.
“For the movie?” Gary asked. “You said it starts filming soon?”
“Something like that,” you replied cagily.
Gary seemed on the verge of asking you something but clearly didn’t like the fact that Taehyung was present. Taehyung could always tell who was a social climber or if they had ulterior motives. Gary definitely was one or the other; Taehyung did not like his face.
“Am I in it?” Gary asked, sharp and unsure.
“In what? The movie?”
What a weird question. Oh, unless —
“I have a family now, Y/N,” he said. “I’m an elder in our church.”
Taehyung recognized the way your face pinched in annoyance — you didn’t even bother trying to plaster over it with politeness.
“It’s not an actual biopic, Gary. You weren’t even in the book, why would you be in the movie? Jesus.”
Every bit of you vibrated with irritation. Taehyung suddenly wished Yoongi wasn’t talking to Allen in the corner. Yoongi tended to unruffle your feathers better than most — although perhaps you didn’t need unruffling so much as this man needed a rescue before his imminent death.
“How do you know Allen?” Taehyung interrupted.
Gary seemed startled, as if he’d forgotten Taehyung was still there. “Oh, Allen and I lived in the same dorm in college and we hung out occasionally. A few of our friends overlapped and we hung out a lot more after college.”
“Fascinating,” said Taehyung. “What do you do for work?”
“Ah, I’m between jobs right now. I decided to take some time off to help my wife with our new baby,” replied Gary.
“Oh, congratulations on the new baby! How old are they?” Taehyung asked. He knew how to make polite small talk despite it boring him to tears.
“He’s three next month.”
Fascinating. Before Taehyung could ask some more banal questions, Allen was tapping into the mic, gathering everyone’s attention.
“Hey, everyone! Let’s have a round of applause for my intern and his band, ‘The Rice Rockets’!” Allen paused to let everyone chuckle at the name and then cleared his throat. “As I’m sure you’ve all seen, our very own Y/N L/N is back with us and gracing us with her presence after years away.”
Taehyung sensed your entire body tense as you painted on a good-natured grin and waved.
“It’s been years since we’ve heard you sing — would you grace us with a little something, Y/N?” Allen added.
You flushed and shook both your hands in an obvious attempt to duck this unwelcomed spotlight. Taehyung thought he could see a slight tremor as you fluttered in embarrassment.
“You’re not too good for us now, are you?” Gary asked, voice pitched to carry. “You never used to be so modest.”
Your eyes flashed violence but all you did was smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve sung anything,” you croaked out. “I would hate to subject anyone to that.”
“Oh, nonsense,” encouraged Allen. “What do you say, everyone? Do we want to hear Y/N?”
The twenty to thirty people in Allen’s backyard cheered and started chanting your name.
Taehyung wanted to reach out and comfort you but he could already tell that you were at maximum tension — he did not know if you would break.
You crooked a wry smile. “Ah, alright. You’ve twisted my arm,” you chortled as if you were secretly pleased. “But don’t blame me if it sucks.”
You sucked in a deep breath and whooshed it out and then sashayed to the makeshift stage, periodically bowing and clowning around. If Taehyung hadn’t just spent a month with you trying to squeeze music out of stone, he would have never known you were likely desperately attempting to seem normal.
You asked for the acoustic guitar from Allen’s intern and bought yourself some time tuning the instrument — as if the man hadn’t just been playing on it. You took one more deep breath and began playing. The notes were incredibly familiar to Taehyung and then you began singing “blackbird singing in the dead of night / take these broken wings and learn to fly / all your life / you were only waiting for this moment to arise.”
Taehyung watched as you sang in your lower register, your voice husky with disuse and smoke. Though he was angry that you’d been publicly manipulated into singing and playing again, he had missed you. When he snuck a glance at Yoongi, the older man seemed visibly moved — and no small wonder. The song itself was already intimate and moving, but something about your energy imbued it with even more poignancy.
He wanted to cry.
When you finished, you’d bowed and at the whistles for encores, you again tried to wave off. You laughed nervously into the mic. “Unfortunately, I haven’t picked up a guitar in over five years so that will have to do.”
Your friends’ groaned in what Taehyung considered friendly disappointment until he heard Gary’s now familiar voice heckle, “Maybe we’re just unsatisfied because you chose something every beginning guitarist knows!”
A smattering of “fuck off, Gary” and “Jesus” and other disgruntled murmurs peppered the yard.
Allen hovered by the mic, looking as if he was going to rescue you but ultimately, giving you the choice of whether to continue or not.
You sighed and went through the motions of tuning the guitar again, taking the moment to think. “Will John Mayer’s ‘Neon’ suffice, Gary?” You huffed a colorless laugh as you shook your head. “Ah, fuck it.”
Taehyung didn’t recognize the song but he assumed by the rising buzz from the group that it must be difficult.
“Here goes nothing,” you hummed.
You began to play a complicated slap rhythm guitar with syncopated beats and elaborate fingering. It was dizzying and by the whistles of appreciation, your college friends agreed that you were amazing. And then, you started to sing, too.
Taehyung could not understand how you could keep track of all the different rhythms and fingering as well as carry a tune — let alone remember the words. And this was after five years of not touching the guitar? Who knew how long it had been since you’d played this particular song.
Minutes later, the makeshift audience gave you a standing ovation. You bowed with much brandishing, twirling, and exaggerated good cheer and made your way out of the limelight. Taehyung and Yoongi beelined it to you and all seemed well until he took note of your face as Allen was busy making apologies to you about Gary.
“Don’t listen to him, Y/N,” Allen begged. “He’s an ass and we only keep him around out of misplaced nostalgia.”
“Don’t worry about it, Allen,” you assuaged despite you clearly wanting Allen to actually worry about it. “I know it’s an awkward situation. All the same, I’m — I’m going to head out.” At Allen’s protest, you added, “I appreciate the invitation, friend. It was good to see you all.”
It took at least another hour before you could actually leave due to your endless goodbyes, all of them telling you to stay longer.
As it was, the drive home was a stilted silence and by the time the three of you got back to Alton’s home, you were unable even to fake a smile.
You didn’t even say goodnight as you closed the door to your room.
———
“Noona,” Taehyung said as he knocked on your door. “Noona, please come out. It’s been three days. Hyung is worried and I don’t know how long I can keep him from calling Alton hyung.”
He heard some scuffling and shifting weight on your bed. After a few moments, your door cracked open a bit. You looked awful and were wrapped in your blanket despite the heat of the day.
“Noona? Are you okay?”
You shook your head.
“Do you need a hug?”
You winced but nodded. That was all the permission Taehyung needed as he bounded into your room and enveloped you into an embrace that was perhaps erring on the side of too tight but he was a human octopus and you knew that so you knew what you’d been doing when you’d agreed to terms.
Or at least, that’s what Taehyung was hoping would be the case. At any rate, he was hugging you and you were not pushing him away. That seemed to be a good sign.
After an unspecified number of minutes and Taehyung’s arms were starting to cramp, he said, “Noona, don’t take this the wrong way but you need to shower.” At your sputtered indignance, he added, “Not because you smell — well, not only because of that — but because you’ll feel better. Honestly, we’ll all feel better.”
You shoved him lightly. “Rude,” you complained. “I smell delightful because everything about me is a delight and wonderment for all humankind.”
Taehyung only stared at you mournfully. “You learned all that Korean just to what? Spout words that make Seokjin hyung sound modest?”
“My goal is only to make oppa sound reasonable,” you replied, adding in English, “I can do all things through oppa who strengthens me.”
It all sounded vaguely ominous to Taehyung.
“I have no idea what that means,” he admitted after a few beats.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s only funny if you can quote the Bible ironically.”
“I can see why people hate you.” He hoped he wasn’t pushing his luck.
You sighed as if even your bones ached. “Fair.”
Suddenly, you leaned over to remove your sleeping shorts and Taehyung squeaked. “Noona! Wait until I leave first!”
You huffed a bleak little puff of air. “We’re supposed to be fake naked with each other in a few months, Tae. I’m sure I’ll be even less dressed then.”
“But we’ll have an intimacy coach present — and only after we have blocked out the scenes!”
Taehyung did not want any of his members — especially Namjoon hyung — to accuse him of swooping in on your vulnerable state. He would maintain proper decorum because it was the right thing to do. You deserved all the respect — especially after the way your so-called friends had manipulated you the other night.
You stopped and pierced Taehyung with your unfaltering gaze. His insides churned with guilt despite him having done nothing to merit it.
“You’re right, Tae. I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I forget that not everyone wants to see me naked.”
He promptly shoved images of you spread out underneath him out of his mind. Utmost. Respect. “You’re really giving hyung a run for his money, huh?”
You shrugged. “Some days, it’s the only thing giving me purpose.” You sighed again. “Come on, now. Get out and let noona rid herself of this scaly dragon skin and finally emerge a human again. It requires sharp claws and teeth and perhaps may shed some blood.”
“You’re speaking Korean and yet, I don’t understand a single word out of your mouth,” he mused.
“They probably translated Lewis into Korean differently than I phrased it,” you replied.
Despite not knowing who this Lewis person was, Taehyung merely harumphed an acknowledgment as he left your room. It probably was some literary reference that Namjoon would have immediately recognized. Not for the first time did Taehyung feel out of his depth around you. He resigned himself to the fact that it would not be the last.
———
I’m sorry, Yoongi. I hope you at least got the bones of songs for future usage. - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Don’t worry about it. Technically, I have until a few weeks after they’ve finished filming and editing before I have to hand anything in. - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
Then why did you insist on coming out to LA and making me feel bad? - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Free trip to LA. Also, I’m a dick. - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
You were hoping Alton would come out and visit, huh? - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
I don’t know what you’re talking about. - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
I’m depressed not stupid. - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Also, because I’m awesome, he loves it when people talk interior design to him. Like, REALLY likes it. - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Like, wainscoting? Enfilade? Etagere? J-box? - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
Watch your fucking mouth, you heathen. I’m a good girl, I am. - Text from Y/N L/N to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Anytime you want to watch my fucking mouth, baby. I can make you bad if you want. - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
No quippy rejoinder? That’s what I thought. Coward. - Text from Min Yoongi to Y/N L/N, June 2026
Hyung, I’m remodeling my spare penthouse. Was debating between trompe l’oeil or coffered ceilings. What are your thoughts? - Text from Min Yoongi to Alton Kuang, June 2026
Oh? Talk square footage with me, friend. - Text from Alton Kuang to Min Yoongi, June 2026
Quick. Tell me everything you know about Min Yoongi. - Text from Alton Kuang to Y/N L/N, June 2026
June 2026
“Noona, I feel like I need to see where you grew up. Walk the streets you walked. Breathe the air you breathed.”
Taehyung didn’t know what quite possessed him to ask you, but ever since the idea seized him one late night as he watched you and Yoongi battle it out morosely over the MIDI, he couldn’t let it go.
You flicked your gaze up at Taehyung, the tightening of your grip on your hot tea your only tell.
“Oh?” you murmured. “I will have to find out from Mattie when my mother will be out of the house. But I suppose I can take you to the country club and you can get in a few rounds of golf.”
Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “Really? I didn’t even know you could play golf, noona!”
“My parents made me take lessons as a kid. I wasn’t very good,” you muttered. “And then Alton made me golf with him so I got better under protest. Let me make some calls.” You paused a bit. “Do you want a tour of UCLA, too? A lot of the dorms have changed but we can do that before we go up north unless you want to wait until we film there on location.”
“Yeah, let’s do it!”
“It will have to be a quick trip, though,” you added. “Filming starts in two weeks.”
“Should I ask my manager to book flights?” he asked.
You pondered for a few moments. “You know what? Let’s drive and help you practice driving stick. Plus, I’ll show you some of California’s famous vistas. We can even play a round at Pebble Beach.”
“Thanks, noona,” Taehyung said, practically bouncing with excitement. “You’re the best.”
“I’m not, but you’ve been a good sport these last few months. It couldn’t have been very much fun.”
“It wasn’t, but Allen and I got along well enough after I made sure he cleared up the misunderstanding with Gary,” Taehyung shared happily. At your furrowed brows, he realized he’d misspoke.
“What did you clear up, Taehyung?” you asked quietly.
Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, uh, just how, you know, it was really shitty of Allen to have put you on the spot like that and then not put Gary in his place.” Taehyung presented you with his best innocent boxy grin. “Allen is a good guy so he apologized more and offered to take me to various places in LA and introduce me to his network. He even volunteered to film future M/Vs at a severe discount so now we’re friends.”
“Allen is a decent person, but he’s definitely always looking out for himself, Taehyung. Be careful,” you warned. “Your network is 100% more powerful than his.”
“I’m a grown up, noona,” he retorted. “You know I have a good vibe check.”
“Hmmmm.”
“Plus, he’s fun and knows all the cool spots in K-town despite not being Korean.”
“Ah, the truth comes out,” you grinned.
“Someone has to take care of me, noona,” he pouted. “You’re always working — either with a trainer, learning choreo, or fighting with hyung about music.”
“Well, Yoongi is back in Seoul so at least you’re spared that,” you replied. “Want to leave tomorrow? If we head out early, we can grab a late lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant in Berkeley.”
“Sounds good, noona,” Taehyung replied as he headed toward his room.
“Oh, and don’t forget to pack some warmer clothes! June Gloom is a thing in California — especially along the coasts!”
“Yes, mom!” he hollered back, not bothering to hide his laughter at your indignant “Yah! The disrespect!” You sounded like Seokjin the more time passed and it comforted him for some reason.
It was going to be great.
———
It was not great. It wasn’t terrible, either. But it wasn’t great.
It just was… anticlimactic.
But mostly, Taehyung was not prepared for the understated wealth you’d grown up around. He was ridiculously rich now, and still, he was impressed with the house you’d grown up in. It was massive, filled with art and expensive furniture and rugs.
When he asked if your mother would be upset at you entering the house without her, you merely shrugged and said, “It’s technically my house, Taehyung. I certainly pay all the property taxes and utilities.” You drank in your surroundings greedily. “Besides, she can’t possibly hate me more.”
He let the topic drop, content to soak in the house and its atmosphere. He noted how there was not a single picture of you on the walls — a marked contrast to his parents’ home. Your brother was very present, but you? You were invisible.
“Which was your room?” he asked quietly.
When you indicated the room but made no move towards it, he went ahead on his own. If it had ever harbored a teenaged you, Taehyung could no longer tell. It was a perfectly appointed guest room and part of him grieved.
You had been so thoroughly excised. He could not imagine a family that operated as such. You might have grown up rich, but to Taehyung, your family wallowed in poverty.
You soon took him to the local country club and he had a perfectly tasteful country club lunch and then a round of golf in the golden California sun where he summarily trounced you (though Taehyung had a sneaking suspicion you were letting him win).
Taehyung wondered at how he’d never thought to question whether the small, sleepy town you’d grown up in was awash in money or not. He remembered how you had made it seem as if you’d grown up in some backwater town and not one filled with huge estates hidden in the rolling foothills — as well as the many country club golf courses from which he could choose.
“Noona, you said you grew up in the boonies,” he protested.
“It was, in a way,” you replied as you drove the golf cart to the next hole. “It was super white, super sheltered, and super out of touch with reality.”
“It doesn’t seem so bad,” he remarked.
You cut him a glance. “You of all people should know that the surface is never as it seems. It was stifling. I couldn’t wait to escape.”
“People seem nice enough.”
“My parents received a letter in their mailbox the day after they moved in, telling them to go back to where they came from,” you said. “We were one of, like, six Asian families in this gated community and we were constantly treated like shit. It was obvious they didn’t want us here.”
“Oh,” said Taehyung. He should have known better based on how his band was treated in the U.S. and other western countries.
“Make no mistake, Tae, money only buys you the illusion of being protected from racism. But the instant they’re alone, we’re nothing but chinks and gooks.”
Taehyung nodded, chagrined that this was the universal experience of being Asian in the U.S.
You spent the next two days showing him your old high school, your old church, and introducing him to a few more of your elementary and high school friends. Taehyung was even happily surprised to see Danny — one of your friends who had visited you in Seoul — and pumped the older man for more embarrassing stories about you.
Before he knew it, the two of you were taking the scenic route down the 101 back to Los Angeles. This time, he made you choose the playlist though you insisted all your playlists were five years out of date. He merely scoffed and said that he’d made the two of you listen to old jazz standards on the drive up — and those were definitely old.
When Taehyung added he’d been surprised that you’d already known most of the songs, you replied that you’d been in the jazz choir during high school.
“Anyone worth their salt knows the American songbook, Tae,” you said. “Well, at least if they grew up here. I don’t expect you to know anymore than you’d expect me to know Korean classics.”
“You do know a decent amount of classic Korean music though,” Taehyung remarked.
You unsuccessfully tried to wipe the smug expression from your face. “Well, music was my job for a while,” you said and returned to queuing up songs as he concentrated on the road to Monterey.
The next few days were filled with you hugging the curves of the 101 at a reasonably thrilling speed as he stared out at the Pacific, stopping to take photos of elephant seals or look at historic landmarks like Hearst Castle or the Madonna Inn. Taehyung felt inexplicably warm whenever he caught you smiling in genuine happiness.
On the last night before returning to Los Angeles, the two of you checked into a swanky resort in Santa Barbara and while Taehyung would never call you a relaxed sort of person, he could see you noticeably tense as the night carried on. After eating lots of rich foods and killing a bottle of wine between you, he suggested a stroll down the beach and though you seemed as if it were the last thing you wanted to do, you agreed.
“Thanks for taking me on this detour and showing me around your home state, noona,” Taehyung said.
“Of course, Taehyung,” you said. After a long silent spell, you added, “The recovery center I stayed at is a few miles down the road, you know.”
“Oh,” he replied.
You never spoke about that time and most days, he could forget that you’d gone through such a devastating period. Most days, he just thought of you as his depressed noona who was a lot like how Yoongi used to be.
He chided himself for having totally forgotten.
“I would take you to tour the facility, but I don’t ever want to go back there,” you said.
“Were they bad to you?” he asked.
The wind whipped your hair across your face as you shook it. “It wasn’t that they were bad so much as they were culturally ill-equipped.” You shuddered and Taehyung gave into the urge to wrap his arms around you. “The house manager-nim and I stayed in was a little further away, but that had at least slightly better memories of Ha-joon oppa.”
Taehyung absentmindedly planted a light kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m so glad you had Alton hyung and manager-nim to take care of you, noona.”
You just nodded and brushed wayward tears off your cheeks. Taehyung was surprised you let him hold you as long as you did, but he was content. You smelled a little sweaty but also like the citrus shampoo you favored. He would hold you until you pushed him away.
“I have a confession to make,” you whispered after a few more moments.
“What is it, noona?” he asked. “You can tell me.”
You turned around in his arms and flicked your gaze to his before focusing on an indeterminate point behind him. You really were Yoongi hyung.
“I — I haven’t kissed anyone since Namjoon and — and I’m worried I’ll be awful on screen — the movie rides on our chemistry, Taehyung — and I don’t want to just kiss anyone to practice with — and maybe you wouldn’t mind since —”
Taehyung raised a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. Your face burst into flames as your eyes fixated on his mouth.
Taehyung smiled softly at you. “If you wanted to kiss me, noona, you could have just said so. You don’t have to make up a reason.”
“I’m not —”
Taehyung didn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence because he was already pressing his lips into yours. He decided that the less time you had to freak out, the better. Your lips were slightly chapped but overall, he enjoyed the shape of your mouth slotting with his.
Except though you kissed him back, he could tell you were not fully present. For one, your whole body was way too tense — perhaps due to shock. And two, well, he’d figure that out later because quite frankly, he was a little distracted in trying to open you up.
“Relax, noona. You’re thinking too much.”
“Taehy—”
Taehyung took advantage of your lips parting to risk a little flick of his tongue and at your throaty “oh,” he knew he had you.
“That’s it, noona,” he husked. He lifted a hand to cup the base of your neck and you melted.
You let him in and Taehyung was determined to make it worth it. You tasted like the cabernet you’d shared at dinner and a hint of salt from the sea. Every now and then, a tiny gasp would escape and Taehyung would feel the sighs go straight to his groin.
You were going to be trouble.
Eventually, the wind became too much and Taehyung broke away, however reluctantly. You stumbled back a step, eyes glassy and lips swollen, hand touching your mouth reverently.
And then, before Taehyung could gather his bearings, you closed the distance between your bodies and devoured him whole.
Taehyung was so utterly fucked.
———
“V of BTS was seen on set at ‘A Slippery Slope’ though he is not slated for any scenes until filming moves to Korea. Sources close to the movie claim V is often in the trailers of Y/N L/N and is even staying at her Malibu and San Marino residences. Could there be a romance brewing between the attractive co-stars?” - The National Enquirer, July 2026
July 2026
The thing of it was, Taehyung didn’t technically need to be on set, let alone the country. All the flashback scenes they were shooting had nothing to do with him except he found himself really wanting to be present.
It was just that after your trip up and down California — not to mention that massive makeout session on the beach — he felt much closer and possibly even more protective of you than before. So if his only purpose was serving as your moral support, it was enough for him.
You were required on set because quite simply, you were the source material. Also, you and the Asian American actresses portraying the younger selves of Vikki Yu needed to have a consistent narrative as well as continuity of mannerisms.
Taehyung watched as all of you grew to rely on and trust the actor playing Vikki’s father. He was a kind gentleman who constantly checked in on the actresses after portraying particularly abusive scenes, adamant on ensuring everyone knew he was acting and in no way an actual threat — especially for the young girls playing Vikki’s elementary, middle and high school selves.
When you weren’t needed for consultation, Taehyung helped as you ran your lines repeatedly in a quick, monotone voice. He wasn’t necessarily the fastest at reading English lines but you mostly needed him to provide an auditory stop as you memorized thousands of words. He tried his best though he wasn’t sure why you chose him to run lines with instead of the Asian American actor who played Roland Tan, the Alton Kuang facsimile and other potential love interest in the movie.
He hoped it was because you found him a source of serenity and not because you were looking for ways to occupy him because he was otherwise in the way.
It was, however, somewhat confusing, too. Part of Taehyung felt as if he were betraying his hyung with his tumultuous feelings and so, he tucked them away until they could serve him in his scenes with you.
You didn’t have to tell Taehyung how you grew increasingly anxious as your scenes with your pretend father and those depicting your recovery approached. Every cell of your being vibrated with terror — a fact you unsuccessfully attempted to hide from him.
It got worse after your filming started.
You often required Taehyung to gently be a touchstone so you could snap out of that dark place you sunk into for those sequences.
“Hey, noona,” he would say in Korean as you’d blink slowly, surprised at his presence. “It’s me, your Taehyungie. You’re safe, noona. No one can hurt you here.”
You would come back, slightly embarrassed but still grateful. But as the days dragged on, you disappeared more and more into yourself and Taehyung worried, unsure of how to recall you back to the present.
Some days, you were so emotionally worn that you would toss him the keys to your yellow Lamborghini, only piping up occasionally that he was grinding your gears into dust despite all your efforts to teach him how to drive stick properly. Taehyung knew he was actually a pretty good driver — even with the manual shift — so he just let you blow off steam in the manner in which you felt most comfortable.
Those nights, Taehyung knew to leave you alone on your balcony as you smoked blunt after blunt. You were a little worse for wear the next morning, but you were always on set by the first call time like the professional you were.
How Taehyung wished he could cradle you in soothing murmurs and kisses, except ever since the trip, you’d been exceedingly cautious on crossing any physical boundaries with him. You’d even pulled back on hugging and general touch — which Taehyung missed something fierce.
He was starving for any sort of human contact and thus, he found himself taking the Lamborghini out every now and then to party with Allen. If he occasionally took a person — male or female, he wasn’t picky — to a hotel for a few hours before he drove back to San Marino, that was his own business.
At least his English rapidly improved due to daily usage.
Taehyung not only gained more American friends, he gained more insight into your character’s background so that he could ponder how Choi Eun-seong could possibly push Vikki Yu’s buttons with his own particular mannerisms in his future scenes. He started up a notes document so he could refer to it when he was back in Korea.
Taehyung bent all his energy into preparing his lines, making sure you weren’t spiraling too terribly, and channeling any pent up emotions into humming the occasional melody or scrawling a few incoherent lyrics and sending them to Yoongi.
Except, Taehyung couldn’t help but feel as if everything was crashing forward to a head — and he didn’t know who would emerge from the rubble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reference Notes:
1) The first song Y/N plays is “Blackbird” by The Beatles.
2) The Bible verse Y/N quotes is: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13 NKJV)
3) The story Y/N references is Eustace in “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” by C.S. Lewis.
Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’ve done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.
Rating:18+
Warnings:semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex
TW:descriptions of past emotional abuse (gaslighting, manipulation, coercion), angst (!)
Word Count: 12,479
Author’s Note: links to be updated at a later date!
➳ 1k+ words | fluff, ceo!jungkook, secret agent!reader | jeon jungkook x f reader | nc-17 | flirty!jk, swearings, suggestive language
Imagine yourself lounging on a luxurious yacht’s deck with your favourite cold drink in hand. The sound of crashing waves and distant seagulls shrieking acts as background music as you relax under the warm sun. That is your dream getaway. Of course, the ship had to be peaceful with not many people around. After dealing with various people in your work, crowds would only prevent you from indulging in your relaxation.
So, you planned to come back to your hometown for a quick family visit and pack your vacation essentials. Then you’d go to the port where the rented yacht is waiting to take you on your merry way.
You deserve this break, after all. You are one of the best in the field, but you also helped train other new agents back in the headquarters.
Seeing you worked your ass off had moved your boss to give you a long holiday. She even rented a private yacht for you (since it was all you can talk about whenever someone mentioned a break). You barely stifled your grin when you received the news.
Everything was according to plan - that was until you faced a hindrance in the form of your childhood friend. Not that you hated him or anything. You two talked from time to time, even flirted a little back then, but it never crossed any line due to your unusual occupation. You had to keep everything under wraps, which led you to underestimate how much power he possessed.
And somehow, you find yourself drifting further and further away from your dream vacation. How so? Well, instead of luxuriating in your rented yacht, you are now sitting in a high-class bar. Surrounded by rich people, looking totally out of place in your midi sundress and straw hat.
“Did you not get the outfit I sent you?”
“Did you not get I am on vacation?”
Jungkook shrugs in response. “Your vacation can wait, but I can’t.”
“Well, I don’t care! You could have hired someone else who is not on holiday!” You hiss in annoyance, placing your hat on your side. “There are lots of other agents capable of dealing with whatever antics you’d like to drag them into.”
“But they aren’t the best.” Jungkook counters, tugging off his suit jacket and handing them to you.
“You don’t know that!” You shoot back, tugging on his suit to look more inconspicuous.
“It wasn’t written in their profiles.”
You want to wipe off that smug look on his face, but you can’t create a scene.
“Okay, Mister I-Am-A-Big-Shot-CEO. You might have the resources to dig into anything you can get your hands on, but that does not give you the right to do so—”
“But I just wanted to know what my dear childhood friend is up to - why she never called, how is she doing—”
“You broke the law and my organisation’s privacy rights. They could have sued you and—”
“But you told them I can be trusted. Plus, I help their funds now. Literally, your headquarters wouldn’t have their tech and gadgets as advanced as now if it wasn’t for me.”
Cocky little shit.
…But he’s also right. So, you deflate, giving up on arguing with him. You should have known talking to him would go around in circles, so you opt to take a deep breath and ask, “What do you want?”
Jungkook notices your change in demeanour and pouts. “I was hoping you’d put up more of a fight.”
“Well, not with that big ass ego of yours. Plus, the faster we are done, the faster I can catch up on my ride.”
Jungkook sighs in defeat as you switch into your work mode. “A competitor of mine has been making deals with someone from my company. I’ve been receiving reports of copyrights when no one should know of my developing products yet.”
You want to strangle him at this point. This is probably like a B-class case (or even C, actually), and your organisation has a handful of capable agents to deal with this.
“Kook, you’re going to sleep with one eye open tonight.”
“Why? You’ll come visit?” He grins at your apparent annoyed attitude. “Babe, that’s like a dream come true. You never visit my place. Should we get dinner too? I’ll wine and dine you, or do you prefer Netflix and chilling—”
You sigh deeply for the umpteenth time. Seriously, how did that shy boy turn into this menace, you wonder.
“How the hell did you turn into this when you were so nice back then.”
“I am nice.”
“The news article I found about you says otherwise.”
“People would say anything to get attention. Plus, they don’t know me personally anyway. Unlike you, right?”
“I don’t know…” You shoot back. “Things changed.”
“Huh…” Then he leans closer to you, voice reducing into a seductive whisper. “But I’m still me, aren’t I? Still your Kookie?”
You groan, pushing him away. “My cookie monster phase is in the past, okay? I don’t call you that anymore.”
“Why? It’s a cute nickname. Only you would call me that.”
“Kook.”
“Kookie,” he responds with a shit-eating grin.
You glare at him. “Jungkook. How long is this mission gonna take? You know the longer you waste my time—”
“Mhmm, don’t mind at all. I can pay as much as you’d like anyway.”
As you’re about to fire back at him, there’s a new guest in the bar just arriving on the doorstep when you shush Jungkook with a finger on his mouth. “A guy with a briefcase just enter the place.”
Jungkook blinks before turning his head to glance at the entrance behind him. “Yep, that’s him alright. But we still need to find the rat.”
“Today’s a workday. Are there any uniforms or ID that your employees use?”
“Just ID card, but who’d be stupid enough to bring that here—” His breath hitches as you cup his face in your hands to make him face you.
Apparently, someone just walks to the entrance to approach the newcomer. They face in your direction, which can lead them to identify Jungkook if you’re not careful.
Leaning in so close to him, your lips are mere millimetres away from that it’d look like a couple making out to anyone around you. You tilt Jungkook’s head a bit while you tilt to the other side to keep your eyes on the two men. You both stay that way until the traitor and his friend is back in their seat.
“The rat is wearing a champagne tie, and he’s stupid enough to keep on his ID card around his neck.” You chuckle, releasing him from your hold. Jungkook is still in a daze as you mutter all the details. “—and… Are you listening?”
“Huh?” He snaps out of his trance.
“His name is Yu Junseo, part of the developer team in your company. No wonder it’s easy for him to share classified information.”
“…Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Is that all you have to say?”
“I-I mean, yeah, I’ll look into it.”
“See? It’s not a hard mission at all, Kook. How dare you say there’s no other agent capable of this,” you say exasperatedly, crossing your arms, but the initial annoyance has ebbed away.
“I only hire the best, you know that. How did you read his ID from this far?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head, finishing your drink in one gulp before pointing at your eyes. “Special contact lens, remember? Where you invested your funds on.”
“Ah, right…”
“Mhmm, I better get going now.” You are about to leave your seat when he grabs for your wrist. “What now?”
Jungkook looks lost for a brief moment before he babbles, “Where are you going now? I’ll drive you there.”
You raise a brow at him. “It’s fine, Kook. There’s an Uber nearby. Shouldn’t you go back to your office?”
“Nah, I’ve got time. Especially when I can spend them with you.”
And let’s just say you ended up with an unexpected company for your vacation on an even bigger private yacht.
