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
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.
Summary: In the land of Aster, a powerful queendom, all female daughters of the queen are blessed by the Goddess and are immune to poison. Your mother, the Queen, is ready to step down and offer her place to you but according to tradition, the heir of Aster has to be married to ascend to the throne. You despise the fact that you have to be married to rule. As an act of rebellion, you announce that you will marry the prince of the one kingdom your mother had warned you not to.
“It’s ridiculous,” you said, walking underneath an archway covered in vines. “She decided all on her own like it isn’t my life she’s talking about. And now everyone knows and they are expecting me to be engaged by summertime.”
Abigail tightened her cloak around her petite form. It was a chilly morning and while you were mostly indifferent to the cold bite of late winter, your cousin was much more affected. “She thinks that what she’s doing is for the best. There has been talk about it. You know they have been wondering why you have never accepted any courting offers.”
“Because I don’t want any courting offers.” A strong gust of wind blew your hair back. You had let it cascade freely around your shoulders devoid of any intricate braids and jewelled pins. “Why do I have to get married? This must be the most pointless tradition to have ever existed. I don’t need to get married to have heirs and I certainly don’t need a man to rule.”
Abigail had to rush her steps to keep up with you. It had been her idea to go on a walk in the gardens but it seemed like she might be regretting it soon. “You don’t but it is what it is. It is what everyone expects. But it doesn’t have to be a big deal. You said it yourself that being married doesn’t matter in the way you rule the land. Don’t give the marriage any more significance than you have to.”
“That’s easier said than done,” you said. “He will be sitting on the throne next to mine and everyone will expect to see us together at the balls and ceremonies. I can’t ignore the fact that he will be my husband.”
He would be always there, nobles would ask after him, the servants would gossip about how much or how little time you spent together, people would wonder how soon you would get pregnant with the next heir. Your mother had complicated pregnancies and, despite her many attempts, you had no siblings. You were the only daughter of the reigning queen, the only one who had The Gift.
Oh wow what a great start! I was so excited when I read the notification for this first chapter. It truly doesn’t disappoint. Can’t wait to read what happens next! So curious to know why the mother is so against Gwangsu
Summary: Taehyung would do anything to make you his.
Teaser Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: yandere, toxic behavior, obsession, stalking, nonconsensual pornography, phone sex, masturbation, use of stolen panties?
Taehyung had just stepped out of the shower when his phone rang. He groaned and trudged over to answer it, his eyebrows raising along with the corner of his lip when he saw your name flash across the screen. Ever since he’d come to your rescue that night at your apartment, you’d been contacting him more, wanting to be around him more. You’d visit his desk more often, coming up with questions you already knew the answer to, creating problems and asking him for help because IT takes way too long.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Tae. What are you up to?”
“Just got out of the shower, so I’m about to get dressed. You?”
You paused, the mental image of him in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, hanging low and exposing his v-line, droplets of water slowly dripping down his tanned skin… you swallowed.
