66
Third Person Pov
It was another polished morning at Jeon Corp.
The kind of morning that looked perfect on the outside, the sky a pale blue, the glass building gleaming but everyone inside was already dying a little.
Employees moved like well-dressed zombies: clicking heels, forced smiles and triple shots of caffeine.
Seokjin stepped out of his sleek black car, phone pressed to his ear, half-listening to some executive babbling about stock fluctuations when a sharp, furious voice cut through the lobby air.
Heads turned. Several employees froze mid-step. One even dropped her tablet.
Seokjin paused mid-sentence.
His brow twitched. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of chaos.
At the front desk stood a woman... bold, furious, and holding a folder like it was a weapon.
The receptionist looked seconds away from tears.
“Ma’am, please lower your voice—”
“Why should I?” the woman snapped. “I bought a car from this goddamn company and the brakes failed! My father hit a tree because of your incompetence!”
The word tree echoed through the marble hall. Someone in accounting flinched.
Seokjin ended his call without a goodbye, slid his phone into his pocket, and began walking over... calm, collected, the human embodiment of ‘Oh no, she picked the wrong day.’
“Who is the director of this company?” the woman demanded, crossing her arms. “I won’t talk to managers anymore!”
A voice replied behind her... low, unimpressed. “I’m the Director.”
She spun around, ready to fight but momentarily froze. The man before her didn’t look like the kind of Director who yelled. He looked like the kind who could end your career with a raised brow.
Her chin lifted defiantly anyway. “Good. Then you can explain to me why your precious company almost killed my father.”
Seokjin just blinked once, taking a slow sip from his coffee cup as if this was his warm-up for the day.
“What’s your name?” he asked, tone deceptively polite.
“Han Sohee.”
“What’s all this commotion about, Ms. Han Sohee?”
“I need answers,” she said sharply, “because the car I bought just a week ago crashed! My father could’ve died! It’s your responsibility.”
Seokjin nodded once, expression sharp. Then, wordlessly, he gestured with two fingers toward the main corridor.
“Inside.”
She frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s discuss this somewhere quieter,” he said coolly. “Unless you prefer giving free entertainment to my staff.”
A few employees instantly scattered, pretending to check their emails. Someone even whispered, “He’s doing the polite voice... oh God, she’s dead.”
Sohee clicked her tongue and followed him, heels echoing through the hallway.
By the time they reached the elevator, her fury hadn’t dimmed, but she couldn’t help noticing how composed he looked sipping coffee like he wasn’t about to be sued.
They reached the top floor. The doors opened to Seokjin’s office... large, minimal, the air smelling faintly of expensive coffee and stress.
His secretary immediately stood and bowed. “Good morning, Director Kim.”
Seokjin handed him the coffee cup like a baton in a relay race. “Refill.” Then, glancing over his shoulder.
Han Sohee crossed her arms tightly, irritation flashing through her eyes as Seokjin calmly settled into his chair. The office was pristine. the kind of place that smelled of money and authority.... glass walls, muted lighting, silence heavy enough to make anyone feel small.
But Seokjin didn’t seem interested in theatrics. He simply placed his coffee cup down.
“Continue,” he repeated, voice even almost too calm for a man being accused of negligence.
Han Sohee exhaled sharply.
“My father’s in the hospital. The doctors said it was a miracle he survived. The car’s brakes failed completely and it was brand new. Your company’s name is on the goddamn registration, Mr.Director.”
Her tone wavered between fury and desperation. She wasn’t here to pick a fight; she was here because she had nowhere else to go.
Seokjin leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes flicked toward his secretary. “Pull up the records for a recent sale under the name Han Sohee.”
The secretary nodded quickly, already typing.
Han Sohee glared at him.
“So that’s it? You’ll just check and move on? What about responsibility? Apology? Compensation?”
Seokjin looked at her, really looked at her and spoke slowly.
“I don’t apologize until I know who’s at fault, Ms. Han. If it’s my company’s defect, you’ll get everything you’re owed. But if it’s your carelessness then you’ll owe me an apology instead.”
Her mouth fell open slightly.
“You think I’d lie about my father’s life?”
“I think people get emotional,” he said flatly. “And emotion clouds truth.”
The secretary cleared his throat quietly. “Sir, the car model... it’s the Raven X3, manufactured three weeks ago. Last inspection: passed.”
Seokjin tapped his finger once on the desk. “Show me the report.”
He read in silence, scanning every line with surgical precision. Han Sohee’s anger simmered while he worked she could hear the faint buzz of the rain outside, the hum of air conditioning, her own pulse beating in her ears.
After a long pause, Seokjin finally looked up..“Your father’s car was fitted with third-party brakes not the company’s originals.”
“What?”
He turned the screen toward her. “We install ZyraTech components by default. These,” he said, pointing at the document, “are aftermarket replacements. Someone changed them.”
Her expression faltered, confusion crossing her features. “That’s not possible. We never—”
Seokjin cut her off, voice sharp as glass.
“Whoever handled the maintenance after purchase... they did this. Not my factory. Not my engineers.”
She stared at the monitor, the truth sinking in slowly, painfully.
“My father said he took it to a friend’s garage… just for tuning…” she murmured, voice breaking.
Seokjin’s expression didn’t soften.
“Then you came to the wrong place shouting.”
Silence.
Han Sohee’s shoulders sank slightly, her fire dimming under the weight of embarrassment. But Seokjin didn’t rub it in, he simply slid a handkerchief across the desk. A clean, white square of cloth.
“Still,” he said, quieter now, “an accident is an accident. Send me the hospital details. I’ll make sure your father’s bills are covered.”
Her head jerked up in disbelief. “Why would you—”
“Because a Jeon Corp. product was involved,” Seokjin replied simply. “And because shouting or not, you cared enough to come here yourself.”
For the first time since entering, Sohee had no words. She took the handkerchief hesitantly, her fingers brushing his for the briefest second.
“Thank you,” she said, voice softer stripped of pride.
Seokjin gave a faint nod.
“Next time, Ms. Han,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “verify before you accuse. It’ll save both of us a morning.”
Sohee scowled, clearly irritated. “I’m not stupid enough to cause a scene for no reason. But I apologize.”
Seokjin didn’t bother replying, just stared at her in silence.
She held his gaze for a moment before sighing. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Director.”
Her tone was polite, but her eyes still shot daggers at him. His calmness annoys me, she thought, forcing a smile before turning to leave.
Seokjin watched her go, sipping his coffee. “What a strange woman,” he muttered under his breath.
.
.
.
Taehyung sat on the couch, knees folded close to his chest, his head resting against them as he stared blankly out the window.
The evening light spilled weakly through the curtains, painting his pale face in quiet exhaustion.
Across the room, Jungkook sat behind his desk eyes glued to the laptop, voice cold and authoritative as he spoke on a call.
The air between them was heavy. Unspoken things rotting in silence.
When the call ended, Jungkook didn’t look up right away.
Taehyung’s fingers fidgeted against his sleeve, the faint buzz of his phone snapping him out of his thoughts.
A random notification from some club flashed across the screen.
He almost scoffed. Clubs. Loud. Pointless.
But at least... they weren’t suffocating like this place.
He stood up slowly, still unsure why he was even doing it, and approached Jungkook’s desk. His shadow fell across the CEO’s workspace. Jungkook finally looked up, eyes sharp, yet too focused on him.
“I’m going to a club,” Taehyung said quietly, barely above a whisper, but steady enough to sting.
Jungkook leaned back, setting his phone down. “A club?” he repeated, tone slow and amused. “For what?”
Taehyung’s brows knitted. “Why-why do people go to clubs?” he muttered.
Jungkook raised a brow. “You don’t drink. You don’t talk. You don’t even smile. What are you going to do there? Sit in a corner and scare people?”
Taehyung’s lips pressed together, anger rising in his throat. “That’s none–none of your concern,” he said bitterly.
Jungkook stood, the chair sliding back. “Everything about you is my concern,” he said, voice low, almost dangerous. “Where you go. Who you meet. What you wear.”
“I–I wasn’t asking you,” Taehyung said, voice low but trembling, eyes locked on Jungkook’s. “I was telling you.”
Jungkook didn’t move, hands shoved deep in his pockets, gaze calm “So you’ll really go to a club?” he asked, his tone flat, testing.
Taehyung swallowed hard and nodded.
“Alright,” Jungkook murmured finally.
That was it. No argument. No sharp retort. Just that one word and it made Taehyung’s chest tighten in unease.
He turned and walked away, every step feeling heavier than it should. Jungkook’s gaze lingered on his back, jaw flexing as the younger disappeared down the hall. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before sinking back into his chair.
For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to stop him.
He tried focusing on the files spread across his desk, reports, signatures, deadlines but his eyes blurred over the words. His mind was elsewhere. Still following the faint sound of Taehyung’s retreating footsteps.
.
.
.
Taehyung entered his room quietly, the faint creak of the door catching Gyubin’s attention.
The little boy was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, pencil between his small fingers as he scribbled on his homework.
Daisy sat beside him, tail curled neatly, watching the paper like she was grading it herself.
Taehyung’s lips softened into a faint smile. “Binnie-boo…” he started gently.
Gyubin looked up, eyes wide and curious. “Yes, Appa?”
Taehyung knelt in front of him, pinching his cheek. “Appa’s going out for a little while,” he said softly.
“Where?” Gyubin blinked, voice laced with concern.
“Nowhere special,” Taehyung murmured. “Just… to clear my head.”
Gyubin frowned immediately. “But Appa, you’re sick. Don’t go alone,” he said firmly, setting his book aside. “Binnie will come with you.”
That simple sentence, so full of care, so innocent made Taehyung’s chest swell with pride. He smiled faintly, brushing his thumb across Gyubin’s cheek. “Appa’s fine, sweetheart. It’s just for a while. But you can help me get ready, hmm?”
Gyubin thought for a second, then nodded, determined. Daisy let out a soft meow, as if agreeing, and followed them both.
Taehyung sighed with a small laugh, glancing back at the two shadows trailing behind him. “My little soldiers,” he muttered under his breath.
He opened his closet, eyes scanning rows of clothes that suddenly all looked wrong. “What should I wear, Binnie?”
“Black,” Gyubin said without hesitation.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow but nodded, pulling out a black shirt and matching trousers. He disappeared into the walk-in closet while Gyubin and Daisy waited patiently outside.
When he stepped out a few minutes later, the change was striking. The shirt hugged his lean frame perfectly, tucked neatly into the tailored trousers. The black contrasted with his pale skin, highlighting every graceful line of his body.
Gyubin’s eyes widened in awe, Daisy’s did too, or so it seemed.
“Do I look good?” Taehyung asked hesitantly, adjusting his cuffs. He looked confident, almost bold but the discomfort in his tone betrayed how unfamiliar it felt to be seen.
“Appa… you look so different,” Gyubin whispered. “You never wear black.”
Taehyung’s gaze lowered. “I don’t like black,” he murmured.
“Why?” Gyubin tilted his head.
Because it always reminds me of Him. Taehyung thought but he didn’t say it. He just smiled faintly.
Gyubin grinned and tugged at his hand. “Appa, let’s do skincare now.”
Taehyung let out a soft chuckle and nodded, following his little boy and their cat to the mirror.
Taehyung the just finished his simple skincare routine when Gyubin appeared again determined as ever clutching something in his small hands.
“Appa, please…” he said, holding out an eyeliner like it was sacred.
Taehyung blinked. “Binnie?”
“Eyeliner,” Gyubin said simply, eyes bright. “You’ll look cool.”
Taehyung exhaled a soft laugh and took it, shaking his head. “Alright, alright…”
He leaned toward the mirror, drawing a clean, steady line... subtle, precise. The faint definition made his eyes sharper, colder. He grabbed a tinted lip balm next, applying it lightly.
“That’s enough. I’m a man,” he said, closing the cap.
“Men can wear makeup too,” Gyubin said with a little shrug, tone serious, matter-of-fact. “Makeup looks good on everyone.”
Taehyung turned to look at him, surprised by the maturity in his voice. This boy, only eight, yet sometimes he sounded like an old soul. A smile crept up on Taehyung’s lips before he realized it.
He picked up a soft blush Gyubin was holding and dusted a faint color onto his cheeks. “Fine?” he asked.
“Perfect,” Gyubin grinned.
Daisy hopped onto Taehyung’s lap, letting out a quiet meow before licking his hand... her feline version of approval. Taehyung chuckled, scratching behind her ear.
“You’re so pretty,” Gyubin said suddenly, voice filled with genuine awe.
Taehyung’s chest tightened at the sweetness. He stood, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. “Well, I’m Binnie’s Appa. Of course, I have to be pretty,” he said softly, smiling.
He grabbed his phone, glancing once more at his son. “Do your homework, okay? And don’t wait for me. Just sleep when you’re done.”
Gyubin nodded, hugging Daisy closer. “Okay.”
Taehyung lingered for a second, the warmth of the scene tugging against the cold decision in his chest... then turned and quietly left the room.
Taehyung walked into the living room, fingers clutching the waistband of his trousers not out of discomfort, but nerves. Jungkook was there.
Of course, he was.
Sitting on the couch, one leg stretched out, the other bent, laptop open. He looked too composed, too sharp, too dangerous.
And Taehyung… he had to cross right in front of him to leave.
He hesitated at the edge of the room, pulse thudding. The black shirt hugged him a little too perfectly, the eyeliner framing his eyes just enough to make them magnetic, he knew he looked different tonight. Bold. Exposed.
And Jungkook noticed. He always did.
The sound of Taehyung’s soft footsteps made the CEO glance up and for a moment, time just… stalled.
Jungkook’s gaze swept from head to toe, slowly. The corner of his mouth twitched something dark flickering in his eyes as he leaned back on the couch, legs spreading wider, arms resting lazily against the backrest.
Taehyung instantly dropped his gaze, fingers twitching at his cuffs. His throat felt tight.
He started walking, desperate to just get out to pass unnoticed, which was impossible under that gaze.
“Don’t let anyone touch you.”
The words hit like a low growl, steady, possessive, almost territorial.
Taehyung froze mid-step, heart stumbling. He turned his head slightly enough to see Jungkook watching him over his shoulder, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, rougher “If someone even tries… it won't end well.”
Taehyung didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat burned too much for that.
He just turned away, heart racing, breath shallow and walked out the door, pretending he didn’t feel that stare following him all the way down the hall.
Jungkook sighed, shutting his laptop as the silence in the house settled heavy. The faint sound of rain had faded, leaving only the ticking of the clock and the occasional mewl from Daisy somewhere down the hall.
He stood up, rolling his sleeves as he made his way toward Taehyung’s room. The soft hum of a child’s voice reached him before he even reached the door.
When he stepped in, Gyubin was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Daisy curled lazily in his lap, the boy mumbling something to her as if she could answer. The scene was… soft, too soft for Jungkook’s world.
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Gyubin looked up, a small, dimpled smile forming instantly.
Jungkook walked closer and knelt in front of him, the floor creaking under his knee.
“Did you take your medicine?” he asked, voice low but gentle in a way that surprised even him.
Gyubin nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mr.Jeon."
Jungkook’s lips twitched not quite a smile, but close. He hummed in acknowledgment.
“Good. Get to bed then,” he said, tone back to neutral.
Gyubin nodded again, carefully picking up Daisy. The cat yawned, stretching in his arms as he climbed onto the bed. Jungkook followed, pulling the blanket over him and tucking the edges like he used to see Seokjin do when they were younger.
The room dimmed as Jungkook turned off the bedside lamp, leaving only the soft amber glow from the hallway. He lingered there... standing, watching the small chest rise and fall, Daisy’s tail flicking lightly across the sheets.
He should’ve walked away.
But then...
“Goodnight, Dada…”
The words came in a sleepy mumble, half-dreamed, but they hit Jungkook like a punch to the chest.
His hands clenched at his sides. He turned his head sharply, jaw tightening, eyes flicking toward the boy but Gyubin was already asleep, clutching the cat to his chest.
Jungkook exhaled, a sound that was almost a sigh almost a tremor.
He looked once more at the small figure on the bed, his throat working before he finally turned and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
.
.
.
Taehyung stepped inside the club, the bass thrumming low through the polished floor, lights flickering gold and violet across the room.
The driver waited outside, the tinted car gleaming under the neon sign, a quiet reminder of the world he came from.
This place was different though. Too clean.
Too elegant. More champagne and whispered deals than sweat and chaos.
He hesitated near the entrance, eyes sweeping across the crowd, strangers laughing, glasses clinking, perfume and alcohol thick in the air. Some eyes turned toward him curiously and he immediately looked down, fingers clutching his phone tighter.
He didn’t even know why he came here.
He just… wanted to disobey.
Just once.
For so long, every move he made had been under Jungkook’s gaze commanded, restrained, controlled. Tonight, he wanted to breathe on his own terms. Even if it was only for an hour.
He made his way toward the counter and sat down on one of the velvet stools, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.
“What would you like to have, sir?” the bartender asked politely, towel in hand.
“Uh… any light drink,” Taehyung murmured, unsure.
The bartender hesitated maybe surprised by the soft tone in a place built on noise when another voice chimed in smoothly beside him.
“Give him a Whiskey Sour.”
Taehyung turned his head.
A woman stood next to him, dressed sharply, hair tied neatly in a low ponytail. Her expression was confident not arrogant, just aware of herself.
The bartender nodded and moved away.
“Hello,” she said, turning toward him with a small smile. “I’m Sohee.”
Taehyung blinked once, then managed a faint, polite smile of his own.
“I’m… Taehyung.”
Her eyes softened. “First time in a club?”
He nodded, no attempt to deny it.
“It’s okay,” she said, chuckling lightly. “I’ll accompany you tonight. My friend ditched me anyway.”
Taehyung only hummed, wrapping his fingers around the cold glass the bartender set before him. He stared at the amber liquid, the faint citrus smell rising, almost foreign.
Sohee leaned on her elbow, studying him for a moment, the way his long lashes cast shadows under the dim light, the way he looked so out of place in his own skin.
“You’re… really innocent, Taehyung,” she said, smiling faintly.
Taehyung looked up, blinking, his voice quiet. “Is that a compliment… or are you calling me dumb?”
Sohee laughed, the sound light but genuine. “It’s a compliment, silly. People like you are rare.”
Her smile softened, eyes lingering on him as she added, almost kindly,
“Don’t lose that. The world’s too good at stealing innocence.”
Taehyung smiled faintly, fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Sohee tilted her head with a warm smile. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know.”
He hesitated. “Uh… my name’s Kim—”
He stopped, correcting himself quietly, “Jeon Taehyung.”
Her brows lifted. “Jeon?”
“Mm.” He forced a small smile. “I have an eight-year-old son… and a cat. Her name’s Daisy.”
Her lips parted, curious. “And your wife?”
He swallowed, eyes lowering to his drink. “No wife,” he said after a moment. “A husband, actually. Jeon Jungkook.”
The glass nearly slipped from her hand. “Wait—Jeon Jungkook? As in the Jeon Corp?”
Taehyung nodded wordlessly.
“Oh my god,” she laughed nervously. “Richie rich himself. I went to that company yesterday.”
That made Taehyung look up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Had a fight with the director.”
“Director Kim?”
She nodded, rolling her eyes. “My dad had an accident because of a car I bought from their company. Turned out it was my father’s fault, not theirs. Still, I lost my temper.”
“I hope he’s fine now,” Taehyung said quietly.
“He came home yesterday. He’s resting now.” She smiled faintly. Then her eyes hardened. “But that director... he’s so cold. I mean, he paid for my father’s treatment, but still there’s something about the way he talks. I don't like it.”
Taehyung’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “You talk a lot,” he murmured.
Her eyes widened. “Oh—sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No,” he cut in, shaking his head. “Don’t be. It’s nice. I barely have people around me who talk so openly.”
His voice lowered, almost fragile. “It feels... warm.”
For a second, Sohee just looked at him the handsome man with the tired eyes, the pendant glinting faintly under the club lights and smiled softly.
“Then I’ll talk,” she said. “Until you forget whatever’s hurting you.”
Taehyung’s throat tightened, but he smiled anyway. “That might take a while.”
“I’m here all night then,” she said playfully, her voice soft but sure.
Taehyung let out a quiet laugh and she smiled at the sound, eyes glinting under the dim amber lights.
“Then you should skip this,” Sohee said suddenly, sliding his glass of whiskey away. “And have something stronger… something that might actually drown those feelings you’re running from.”
He blinked, lips parting. “But I can’t handle alcohol well.”
Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Then I’ll handle you later.”
Taehyung froze for a second, his ears burning. He looked away, trying to hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re bold.”
“Maybe. But you look like someone who needs a little chaos tonight.”
Before he could respond, the bartender placed another drink in front of them clear, potent, and glowing faintly under the neon light. Sohee lifted her glass, leaning in close enough for him to smell the soft perfume clinging to her skin.
“Cheers?” she whispered.
Taehyung hesitated, then raised his own glass, the rim trembling slightly against hers. “Cheers.”
Their glasses clinked, a quiet sound that disappeared beneath the music and he took a sip, wincing at the burn that slid down his throat.
Sohee smiled at his reaction, but Taehyung only stared at the glass for a long moment, his mind flickering back to the one person he shouldn’t be thinking of.
No matter how strong the drink was… it wasn’t enough to erase that name.
Taehyung had another drink. Then another. The world blurred at the edges, soft and golden under the low lights. Sohee’s voice became a comfortable hum easy, unthreatening as she spoke about her past.
“I had a breakup last year,” she said, eyes fixed on her drink. “He cheated. I walked away the same night.”
Taehyung hummed quietly, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s brave.”
She gave a small shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe I was just done being stupid.”
A pause.
“I’m not looking for love anymore,” she added, forcing a smile. “I’m fine being alone.”
Taehyung’s gaze drifted to the bottles lined behind the counter. “You can’t look for love,” he murmured. “Love… finds you. And when it does, it doesn’t let you go even if it ruins you.”
Her eyes softened. “You sound like someone who’s in love.”
He smiled faintly, bitterly. “Sounds like that, doesn’t it?”
“So…” she hesitated. “You love your husband a lot?”
His hand froze midair, the glass halfway to his lips. The question hung heavy between them.
“I don’t know,” he said finally, voice cracking just enough to sound human.
“You can tell me,” she said quietly. “I’m a stranger and I don’t judge. Unless you want me to become a friend.”
He chuckled under his breath, a hollow, humorless sound. “I don’t need friends.”
Then, without warning, he tipped the glass back and drained it in one go. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, setting the empty glass down with a quiet thud.
“I hate my husband,” he said.
It wasn’t loud. But it was raw like a confession that had been waiting for awhile to escape.
Sohee blinked, unsure how to respond. The air between them felt heavier now.
Taehyung pushed off the stool, wobbling slightly as he got to his feet.
“Let’s dance,” he said.
“Taehyung, maybe you should—”
“Dance,” he repeated, forcing a small smile. “Before I change my mind.”
Sohee stared at him for a beat, then sighed and followed him into the pulsing lights.
He moved like a man trying to forget something or someone and for the first time that night, she understood the ache behind his eyes.
Taehyung smiled faintly, swaying with the crowd. The bass thumped through his chest, dulling every thought in his head.
“Careful, Taehyung,” Sohee said, catching his hand as he stumbled.
He looked at her, eyes hazy. “Loosen up, Sohee,” he muttered with a crooked grin.
She blinked surprised then laughed softly. “Well, looks like the alcohol finally kicked in.”
He chuckled under his breath, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The music grew louder, lights flashing over his face as he moved not dancing, really, just… moving. Like someone trying to shake something off his skin.
Sohee stayed beside him, keeping him from bumping into anyone. She took a sip from her glass, smiling at him when he turned, his hair falling slightly into his eyes.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she shouted over the music.
Taehyung exhaled, voice low. “It feels like… nothing.”
Her smile faltered. “That’s okay,” she said softly, steadying him again when he wobbled. “Sometimes nothing’s better than pain.”
He didn’t reply just kept moving, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the crowd.
“You don’t actually hate him, do you?” Sohee’s voice cut through the thrum of music, her tone light but curious.
Taehyung blinked, eyes glassy, body swaying slightly under the strobe lights. “I–I should,” he mumbled, words slurring together. “He’s bad. Really bad.”
His thumb traced the rim of his glass. He laughed once a broken sound then pressed a hand to his chest. “But my heart… it doesn’t listen to me anymore.”
Sohee sighed softly, brushing her hair aside as she steadied him. “Forget him for tonight,” she said, smiling faintly. “Just live. Dance. Don’t think.”
He nodded weakly, eyes falling to the drink in her hand. He grabbed his own and emptied it in one go. The burn crawled down his throat, sharp and dizzying, and for a moment, everything blurred into movement and color.
They danced.
Or at least they tried to.
The crowd pulsed around them, lights flashing red and blue, bodies pressing close. Taehyung’s movements were hesitant, uncertain, but he forced himself to keep going as if drowning noise could silence his thoughts.
Sohee laughed beside him, tossing her hair, her glass lifted in the air. “That’s it! Just like that!” she shouted, voice rising over the beat.
Taehyung smiled faintly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled without guilt.
But then a hand caught his wrist.
He turned around, blinking through the haze. The man in front of him wasn’t familiar... tall, rough jawline.
Taehyung’s mind fumbled to make sense of the face. “...J-Jungkook?” he whispered, his lips curling into a dazed smile.
He stepped forward, a drunken mistake and his arms found their way around the stranger’s neck.
“You can’t even leave me alone for one night, can you?” he murmured, words half a slur, half a plea.
The man didn’t answer.
Something about the silence made Taehyung’s chest tighten. The CEO would’ve said something cruel by now. Something sarcastuc, maybe whispered something filthy just to remind him who he belonged to.
But this man said nothing.
And then Taehyung felt it. The wrongness. The smell. The build. The touch.
“L–Leave,” he whispered, stumbling back, panic slipping into his tone. “I’m married.”
The man smirked, pulling him closer instead. “Then let me make you forget him for a while, pretty boy,” he said, leaning down, lips brushing against Taehyung’s neck.
“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sohee’s voice cut through the noise, sharp but shaky. She stumbled toward them, but the man only tightened his hold.
Taehyung’s chest clenched, fear rising, the air too thick and then—
BANG!
A gunshot cracked through the club.
Screams erupted. Glass shattered. The lights flickered violently as the music screeched to a stop.
The man who’d been holding Taehyung dropped to the floor, clutching his bleeding wrist, crying out in pain.
People backed away, gasping, whispering and in the silence that followed, heavy footsteps echoed.
Dark suits flooded in. Men in black disciplined, silent, lethal.
And then came him.
Jungkook.
He didn’t walk, he prowled. Each step slow, precise, controlled. His black shirt clung to him from the rain outside, his jaw sharp, his gaze burning with quiet fury. The gun in his hand still smoked faintly.
“Drag him out,” he said voice low, dangerous enough to make the room still again. “I’ll deal with him later.”
The bodyguards obeyed immediately, dragging the bleeding man away, leaving a trail of red against the club’s polished floor.
No one dared move.
Except Jungkook.
He turned and finally looked at Taehyung.
Taehyung stood there trembling slightly, his hand still in Sohee’s, eyes wide under the dim lights. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. He could still smell gunpowder in the air, could still feel the echo of danger pressing against his skin.
Jungkook’s eyes dragged over him slowly from the messy hair and smudged eyeliner to the open collar and trembling hands. That stare burned more than any touch.
“Having fun?” Jungkook asked finally quiet, but cutting like a knife.
Taehyung couldn’t reply. His throat closed. His pulse stuttered.
Sohee stepped in front of him, her voice shaking. “You can’t just scare him like that! Who the hell do you think you are?”
Jungkook’s eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, the weight of his stare made her step back. He didn’t even raise his voice. “Move.”
The single word carried enough command to make the entire room exhale at once.
Sohee hesitated, her grip on Taehyung’s hand tightening protectively.
“Don’t,” Taehyung whispered, voice breaking. "I won't go with you."
Jungkook’s gaze sharpened. Then he took a step forward, and Taehyung instinctively stepped back.
“Come here,” Jungkook said quietly.
Taehyung’s chest rose and fell. He didn’t move. Just shook his head stubbornly.
The silence stretched. The music had long stopped, but the tension sang louder than any bassline.
Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He tilted his head, almost like he was trying to calm himself but his voice dropped, rough and possessive.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Taehyung.”
That did it.
Taehyung’s knees almost gave out. He pulled his hand free from Sohee’s and stepped forward... slow, hesitant, every movement heavy with dread.
The CEO reached for him, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Firm. Final.
“Let’s go home,” Jungkook murmured, his voice brushing Taehyung’s ear low, dangerous, and far too intimate.
The crowd parted as they walked out Jungkook leading him through the sea of terrified faces, the echo of the gunshot still hanging in the air.
And for a second, just one... Taehyung swore he could feel the ghost of Jungkook’s hand at his lower back.
Protective. Possessive.
Like he owned him.
Like he always would.