Archive of Our Own ^beta

Taehyung knows that he shouldn’t have returned to the café years after they’ve broken up, but there is just something comforting about the wood-paneled floor and minimally-decorated chocolate brown walls that feels so much like home. He takes a sip of his iced Americano, feeling its bitterness quench his thirst for caffeine, the coldness of the drink seeping through his bones after it travels down his esophagus, and he feels a familiar chill run through his body as it settles down on his stomach.

She was the one who had taught him to drink coffee (he always used to opt for soda, but she told him that it wouldn’t do his bones any good. “And besides, coffee’s the drink for the grown-ups”, she had said in that knowing, proud voice, even though they were only both sixteen then) and he can’t seem to revert back to his old habit of carbonated drinks. So he sits there in a corner, drinking the very same coffee that he drank that day she broke up with him, feeling as wretched as his grandmother’s collection of soda cans that had been discarded by his father after her death because they were taking too much space in the house.

He takes his phone lying on top of the table and unlocks it after keying in a string of numbers, opening his gallery. Just to check, he tells himself. But he knows he’s lying, because he knows that no matter how many times he tries to recall the past, it will still remain unchanged.

“Here’s your order sir. Would you like to have anything else?” a girl that looks just about his age puts down a plate of tuna sandwiches on his table, noticeably batting her eyelashes at him. She smiles widely when he looks up from his phone, where he had been staring at a photo he took two years ago: a selca that he took with his ex-girlfriend at this very same place, at this very same table two years back, during their very first date. He knows he should’ve already forgotten her by now, but just thinking about that feels like an impossible feat to him.

He blinks, not because he is blinded by her winning smile, but because of the way she looks: the way she ties her hair back, the way she smiles at him—they all seem too familiar; it all reminds him of her. He shakes his head, thinking that it might just have been from too his lack of sleep. He stayed up all night practicing his guitar solo, after all; he doesn’t want to make a mistake on the day of their band’s performance.

The look on her face changes into something akin to concern, all hints of flirting in her tone that had been there a moment ago now gone. “Sir, are you okay?” she asks, her voice gentle this time. Surprisingly, she sounds genuinely worried for his well-being even if they’ve only met for the first time. “Is there anything wrong? Anything I can help you with?”

Taehyung looks at her to get a better look and blinks, once, twice, thrice for good measure. It had all been a mistake.

He can’t help but sigh. She doesn’t even look like her at all, that he wonders how he could have mistaken. Though because of the way she carries herself, it seems that it’s almost bordering there, but it’s still… not quite.

Aside from the similar ponytail, they look nothing alike—this girl’s eyes are really small and almost disappeared whenever she smiles, and her cheeks are a little chubby that even though she’s tall enough to be recognized as an eighteen-year old, she still looks like a baby.

The lady by the counter had been the one that’s always been there two years ago, and he doesn’t know whether that thought should comfort him or not. Still, this is the first time he’s ever laid eyes on the girl; probably because he hasn’t been here for quite some time, pouring himself into practice. “She must be new here,” he thinks, seeing as he used to spend most of his free time here back when he was still auditioning for the company and practically knows every nook and cranny of this place, as well as the regular staff and even the owner himself—a college guy that is only older than him by a year, who had inherited the café from his parents. He shakes his head. Of course. It has been two years after all—surely, a lot of things would have had changed.

“Nothing, it’s okay.” He says in a dismissive way so she wouldn’t have to find the urge to meddle in his business. A look of doubt passes her face, but it’s gone before he could make sure it was even there, and she bows politely, taking this as a cue to return to the counter to take the orders waiting to be served to the other customers. He sighs deeply and inhales the aroma of the café that he has always reminded him of home, even before he started drinking what they served.

The door suddenly opens, its chimes ringing as someone familiar comes to view. “Oi, Taehyung. I thought that we had an agreement before?” Namjoon, the established leader of their band reprimands him as a greeting.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, hyung.” He smiles as the older guy sits on the chair from across him, but it only comes out half-heartedly. Namjoon removes the sunglasses he’s wearing, showing off his almond-shaped eyes and looking much less like an “ill-mannered gangster”—as what most people would say upon meeting him for the first time—by the minute. He looks less of a threat this way, though it also made him harder to take seriously, what with the deep dimples.

The first few seconds that Namjoon’s sitting there, right in front of him, the older guy quickly picks up on the strangely pensive atmosphere surrounding him, noticing something strange in his eyes. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with what?” Taehyung replies innocently. It’s not like it’s as obvious as it would be if he’s set the place on fire the moment he stepped in and drank tea with his pinkie finger raised while the whole café burned down.

Or maybe it was even more obvious than that—his whole aura a darker shade than charcoal black clouding up the lights.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I don’t know man. You, sitting here in a quaint little café just around the corner of the dorm instead of going out with us to go get hamburgers? Questionable. You staying still and looking normal? Maybe you just have a cold. I could think of a lot of ways to let this pass, but seriously man, you’re acting weird.” He scrunches his nose. “No, let me rephrase that—you’re acting normal, which is weird.” He corrects himself, and this time, Taehyung really does manage to give him a real smile. There’s a laugh, even.

“I told you not to practice too much. You’ll get a cough from singing too much, blisters from playing the guitar too much. But sometimes? It just really gets to your head.” Namjoon might not be one to show his affection, getting all embarrassed and pretending to be chill about everything whenever the opportunity arises, but Taehyung still finds comfort in his words. Even if he does get a little too overbearing sometimes.

“I’m not being weird. I’m just trying to be quiet for once.” Taehyung says in that uncharacteristically deep voice of his, but he still sounds somber that it kind of dampens Namjoon’s mood, too. It’s difficult seeing Taehyung look as if all the energy’s been sucked out of him. It’s already even difficult hearing Taehyung talk without screaming or making weird sounds and making up randomly-arranged words that don’t even make any sense.

“Well, suit yourself. But it’s really weird though, seeing you quiet,” Namjoon leans back on his seat, propping his elbows on either side of the chair’s arms.  “Anyway, at least I found you.” He tilts his head to look at Taehyung with that air of authority leaders usually have. “But seriously dude, even though manager-hyung’s given us enough freedom to roam around since we technically haven’t debuted yet, that doesn’t mean that you should keep on disappearing on us. Stop acting like Houdini, we have rules to live by. We’re a group, remember?” He said, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what to do with you guys anymore. Yoongi-hyung keeps on stealing underwear from each of us whenever he’s not sleeping, saying that it’s to form deeper bonds within the brotherhood. Seokjin-hyung needs to have his phone ready to dial for 911 all the time because apparently, girls just won’t give up chasing him… ugh, don’t even get me started.” He shakes his head once more and rubs his temple with the fingers of his right hand, trying to ease a bit of the headache he’s been having all morning. He had been helping in composing their songs lately, and even though he was able to finish all his work in time, it was still tiring enough that it gave him killer migraines.

“And then there’s you. Travelling alone, looking equal parts remorsefully sad and equal parts dumbly sad. You’ve suddenly been disappearing to different places this month.” Namjoon looks at Taehyung suspiciously. “Don’t deny it, I’ve been observing. Last week, it was Namsan Tower. The previous one, it was the amusement park. Now, here? What, are you recollecting memories from the past and making a scrapbook?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, choosing to take a sip at his coffee once more instead. Today was supposed to be their third year anniversary if she just hadn’t broken up with him almost a year into their relationship, but nobody but the both of them knows that.

After they broke up, he tried to do his best and perfect his craft, acting like his usual self around everyone else. And now that he’s almost ready to debut, he wants to go back to the past and maybe try to leave everything that had happened back then in a box tucked away there, where he wouldn’t need to remember it. Even after the years, all he ever wanted was to have a formal closure. But seeing as he doesn’t know where to find her anymore, he decides to visit every place they’ve went through before they officially debut, absconding the memories he used to have of that place there.

Namjoon sighs. “What, are you going through your teen emo-girl phase now?”

When Taehyung still doesn’t respond, he blabbers on. “Do you feel the urge to dye your hair charcoal black, just after the stylist-noona spent hours on dying your hair brown?  Is your playlist composed of songs of butt hurt and occasional chronic pains? Have you saved photos in your phone gallery that are mostly black backgrounds with skulls scattered around and deep, meaningful quotes that’s actually poetry speak for bullshit? Are you going to ask the make-up artist noona to line your eyes with kohl five times tomorrow, for smoky effect?”

“Hyung, please. I’m fine, ok. Stop it with your monologues.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. Strangely enough, he’s feeling better now because of Namjoon’s nonstop babbling and he almost cracks another smile, but he still doesn’t get the older man’s point.

“That’s what they all say, Taehyung. ‘I’m fine, this is not just a phase; this is who I really am.’” He says, making a bad imitation of some character that Taehyung is sure came from a movie that they’ve watched at the same time. “Next thing you know, you’re saying that you’re a vampire, and that your ancestry’s traits have manifested within you, therefore you need to go to that gloomy place where it’s raining ninety percent of the time to live with your clan, because it’s where you belong.” He finishes, almost running out of breath from his little impromptu speech.

Taehyung eyes him dubiously. “You seem to know a lot about this, hyung.”

Namjoon sighs. “Shut up Taehyung. I had a phase too, okay.” Taehyung gapes at him, horrified. He couldn’t imagine Namjoon with a fringe that covered half of his face, parted by the side to reveal his left eye sporting eyeliner that made him look like he’s been hit by a baseball. “Those were the dark times. But I have changed; I am a free man now.”

Taehyung laughs obnoxiously loud, his lips forming a rounded rectangle shape. Normally, Namjoon would have the audacity to be embarrassed, but Taehyung looked like he really needed a laugh, given that he’s been looking dampened the past few weeks. “Yeah, it’s nice to be of service to you too, Kim Taehyung.” He grins back.

Namjoon stands up and pats Taehyung’s shoulder a little bit too hard. “I’ll just go order a drink, okay? Don’t you dare go disappearing on me again. If you move as much as one centimeter from your place, I swear I’m gonna make you drink that bitter tea again.” He warns Taehyung, making motions with his fingers as if to say I’m watching you. Taehyung just shrugs as if it was nothing, the memory of the time when he played a game with his hyungs when they were still training replaying once more in his mind as he proceeds to drink his iced Americano. The coffee has already lost some of its taste because most of the ice has already melted, but he thinks it’s just okay. It’s summer, after all.

A few minutes later, Namjoon is back, an amused smile on his face. Taehyung doesn’t budge from his place. “Hey, you never told me that there were really cute girls here. You should’ve told me sooner, I would’ve hung out here with you all the time. Hell, I might even drink and eat everything they have on the menu just so I would have an excuse to stay here.” He grins, looking much like a giddy child than the leader of a band that’s about to debut soon. Taehyung is then reminded that even though Namjoon is the leader, he’s still just a year older than Taehyung himself.

Taehyung blinks in confusion as what Namjoon had said sinks in his system. “Cute… Girls?” as far as he knows, there is only one teenage girl here, and it had been that one girl who served him his sandwiches. The other remaining personnel, however, consisted of an older lady in her mid-forties and a man that didn’t look any older than them.

“Yeah, cute girls. You know, girls that look cute. Girls that are cute.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at the obliviousness of the younger man. Just because he broke up with his girlfriend a few months into his trainee period doesn’t mean that he should hate girls from then onwards to not even notice them. Especially the cute ones.

Besides, that was two years ago. He wanted to tell him this bit of information too, but knew better and kept his mouth shut about the topic. Namjoon has earned a reputation in their company for easily breaking things, and sure, he might be careless sometimes, but he’s not tactless—well at least, not that much—so he knows that it isn’t right to bring up the past with Taehyung.

“Funny, hyung. I know what ‘cute girl’ means.” Taehyung says over his cup. “What I meant is, who?” Just then, a very pretty girl that looked younger than either of them comes up to them and carefully takes a plate after another from the plastic tray she’s balancing over her left hand and puts it on their table, the first one having a slice of chocolate cake and the other one mocha-flavored. She puts a mug filled to the brim with brewed, black coffee with the same refinement in her actions in front of Namjoon. She was graceful in her movements, as if she was dancing a choreographed routine that she had been practicing for a long time. “Here are your orders, sirs.” She says, dipping her head in a bow. She is blushing furiously, a rosy hue blooming on her cheeks, yet Taehyung finds this endearing.

Namjoon, on the other hand, already seems smitten by her at first sight. He gawks at the girl a little bit too obviously, marveling at her beauty as if she was a painting on display in a museum. “Damn fine.” He mutters in English, eyes glazing over.

The girl looks at him in confusion, but she doesn’t let that hinder her from doing her job. “So… Will that be all, sirs?” the girl looks at the two of them, back and forth. “Or did we forget any of your orders?” the girl turns to rest her gaze on Taehyung with a sweet smile on her lips despite her unease. She has eyeliner on, probably to make her eyes look bigger and so that she’ll look older, but her smile betrays the layers of foundation and strawberry lip gloss that she has on.

As Namjoon had been entranced, Taehyung can’t help but stare at her pretty face, too. His eyes trail over that pretty smile, at the pretty way her pretty hair perfectly falls like a curtain over her dainty little shoulders in pretty curls.

“Uhm, sir? Your order?” Her hesitant question wakes him up from his mental reverie, but he doesn’t know how to answer her without making a fool out of himself. He looks at the older guy for help, internally panicking.

“Yes, that’ll be all.” Namjoon says with a goofy smile, dimples showing, and Taehyung thanks the gods that the older guy has regained his bearings, because he doesn’t know what to do. The girl does a polite bow, telling them to enjoy their orders before walking off to the counter, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet on the way there. Taehyung can’t help but think that the girl looked a lot like the first girl, though they were also very different in many ways.

Namjoon is still staring at the girl, mouth gaping open, and Taehyung shakes his head as he looks at his hopeless hyung. “Is this what a leader is supposed to do? You should be ashamed of yourself.” He mutters. He is aware that he occasionally does stupid things, and now that he’s witnessing an act of stupidity firsthand, he’s realized that it might be possible to die of secondhand embarrassment. He pushes Namjoon’s lower jaw upward to close the latter’s mouth, fearing that saliva will flow out from it if he didn’t act any sooner and laughs when the elder breaks out of his trance.

Namjoon shakes his head awake as if he came from a deep slumber. He finds himself smiling when he sees Taehyung laughing, glad that the younger seems to be starting to get a grip of himself, whatever that had been dampening his mood for the past few weeks momentarily forgotten. “I’m definitely coming back here with you.” Taehyung shrugs with a smile, knowing that once their leader has decided on something, it’s hard to change his mind.

✖✖✖

Seokjin looks at his wristwatch impatiently and taps the watch’s face twice with his crooked index finger. “They’re late. Again.” He says to himself, clearly irritated. Being the oldest member in the group, he is all about punctuality and such, though he isn’t uptight like their company president is. He at least knows how to have fun when he’s at it. But in times like these, when their group is supposed to meet up at a café he’s just heard about to get some drinks and snacks before practice, he knows his priorities. He agreed because he’d been at the supermarket that time, buying a month’s worth of groceries, and since the café is near their dorm, it didn’t seem to hurt to pass by and get a sip of hot coffee.

So when a girl approaches him to ask for his order, the death glare that he had been preparing to give his members once they show up so it could bore into their skulls and make them remember to never be late is instead thrown her way, and she winces a bit at the withering look she is given. She manages to gather her bearings though and smiles warmly at the cold-looking guy, because that’s what she’s supposed to do.

“Good morning sir! I’m Jimin.” She points at the yellow nametag with a smiley face pinned on her shirt just a little ways above her right breast, notepad and pen in hand. Seokjin makes the mistake of following her gesture with his eyes and he has to mentally scold himself to focus because wow those boobs are—and that face—and that hair—as in wow, just wow. He blinks, focusing on her eyes instead, but he still feels like that was a mistake.

“What would you like to order?” The girl is wearing a white, collared shirt and black pants with a blue apron over it, and her hair is left flowing down to her shoulders, reaching a few inches below her collarbone. There’s a pink Hello Kitty clip keeping her fringe in place, and it’s another one of the things about her that catches Seokjin’s attention. She looks younger than him by at least a few years, especially with her height, and her eyes seem to smile as she did, crinkling at the edges and forming into perfect crescents.

Seokjin can’t help but swallow as he tries to take in the captivating beauty of the girl in front of him. He isn’t the type of guy to wait for years before he tries to make a move on a girl that he has eyes for, but he isn’t the type of guy that would just listlessly fuck anything so long as it’s moving either.  But THIS WAS A GIRL AND SHE’S VERY PRETTY AND SHE JUST LOOKS LIKE HIS IDEAL TYPE AND SHE’S HERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM, SO WHY THE HELL NOT?

But the problem is, she looks much like a little kid, with her supple cheeks and easy-going smile, and he doesn’t want to be called “oppa” in a lovesick tone by a girl who’s still practically wearing diapers.

“I’ll just have an espresso.” He says as nonchalantly as he could muster, trying his best to look as disinterested in the girl as he is with the color of the café’s walls (because really, brown? Are you serious? Like, pink is the way to go, how could anyone not know that?), reassured by the belief that girls would be the ones to fawn all over him, not the other way around.

The girl writes down his order in her notepad. “Would that be all sir?” he nods with an air of arrogance, and she seem to look a bit disappointed at his response (or rather, lack of), but she catches herself and the smile on her face is back, telling him that his order will be ready in a short while before bowing down and scampering off to the counter. It’s too late though, for he had already seen the expression in her face, and basing from the different types of girls that he had encountered before, he knows that she likes him.

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair, temporarily forgetting his annoyance at his members for a moment. “It’s really hard to be the handsome guy”. He whispers to himself, shaking his head. “Those brats might be late, but at the end of the day, I’m still the handsome guy everyone loves.” He lets himself be cocky, because he’s alone anyway, and he knows that there is some truth to that. That’s what a lot of people say, anyway.

When the three do arrive a few minutes after Seokjin takes the first sip of his espresso, he is greeted by Namjoon profusely apologizing for their lateness reasoning out that they all woke up a little bit later than they were supposed to, having had spent the whole night rearranging song lyrics and practicing. Yoongi gives him a pat on the back and a single “Sorry” to make up for everything, because he knows that Seokjin would understand. He always does.

Seokjin deflates, his anger gone now, the reason behind his agitation cleared up. It’s within reason anyway, so he understands. Taehyung greets him with a short, “Hey, hyung,” looking around, distraction evident in his actions. He seems to be looking for someone, craning his neck to get a better view of the counter.

“Who’re you looking for, Taehyung? Are you meeting someone here?” he asks the younger.

Taehyung looks startled, as if he’s been caught red-handed for committing a heinous crime, but then he smiles widely. “Nothing, hyung. I just thought someone I know would be here.”

From beside him, Namjoon clears his throat, mumbling something under his breath and chuckling when Taehyung looks at him with wide eyes, but Seokjin doesn’t quite catch what it was. They seemed to share a secret he didn’t know, but he doesn’t mind it at all. Everyone gets to have their secrets, right?

✖✖✖

Taehyung looks up from staring at the couple ring on his hand, but she’s too busy looking out the window to notice this slight movement. She’s looking at anything and anyone that’s not him, to be exact. “But why?”

“I… I don’t think this is going to work anymore, you know. You’re training as an idol and… You do know the consequences once you get to debut, right?” she’s still not looking at him, eyes trained on the little boy who is standing outside, licking at his ice cream that he was holding in one hand, his mother holding the other.

“I’m not exactly an idol—it’s a band. Our schedule isn’t as tight, and our training doesn’t include dance lessons,” he almost says to correct her, but this doesn’t seem to be the right time to point that fact out to her.

“I know.” He says instead, quietly at first. “I do know that if I do get to debut, we’ll be seeing less of each other, but I don’t think that’s enough reason for you to leave me!” his voice raises a few pitches higher, catching the attention of some of the café’s customers who gave them wary glances. Right, it’s not like you see a girl breaking up with a guy that she’s dated for almost a year every day, anyway. “I love you, I really do. Isn’t that enough to… to work things out? I promise I will find a way around things. And I’m not even done with training yet! But now, you’re breaking up with me?”

“I just don’t think you need more distractions. You should focus on training. It’s your dream to perform, after all.” She says in a hushed tone, and she could feel the hints of tears falling from her eyes. She blinks them away, but not before Taehyung could notice. He reaches out to touch her hand which had been lying atop the table and squeezed, hoping to give comfort with that single touch, not knowing how to put everything that he wanted to tell her into words. He wishes that the darned wooden table isn’t separating them from each other so that he could at least hug her, or let her lean on his shoulder. “And someday, we’re still going to have to end our relationship because I can’t keep up with you anymore, or because you’re too high up on that ladder that you can’t look down any moment because you might fall. I don’t want that. So let’s end it here, while we can still properly tell each other goodbye.”

“No, it’s won’t be like that!” he protests. “Look, I know it’s going to be hard, but I love you and I know that you love me too.” She doesn’t answer, keeping her head bent low and staring at Taehyung’s hand on top of hers instead. “Right?” He sounds desperate, clutching her hand tighter in his, and she still doesn’t respond, but at least she doesn’t flinch from his touch, like what he thought her initial reaction would be. “Right?” He repeats, a little bit louder this time, his question not really inquiring but mostly a chant to make himself believe, more than anything.

“I… I don’t think that’s enough. I don’t think that’s ever going to be enough, really.” She shakes her head, and all he wants to do was to see her smiling instead of that pained look on her face; to hold her close and tell her that no, she’s wrong, and it could be enough. But the words die out in his throat as she takes her hand from the table and stands up, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she does so. “I’m sorry… It’s just not enough anymore.” She starts walking towards the door, but Taehyung stands up and calls out, making her stop in her tracks.

“Please, don’t go.” His voice is not his usual boisterous one, but is instead barely a whisper. She shakes her head but doesn’t turn to face him, afraid that she might not be able to abide by her decision. “Fine, then. I’ll do better in training from now on, so that I’ll get to debut faster. And once I do… Can you please go back? For me?”

She draws in a shaky breath, deciding to look at him one last time. Taehyung sees the pained expression on her face again, and he knows that it’s hard for her to let go too, but the words that come out of her mouth isn’t the answer that he expects and wants. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She turns her back to him and stalks off into the harsh cold of the winter air, not glancing back, and Taehyung feels as if she took a part of him along with her as she walks out of the door to embrace the cold night.

Taehyung stares dumbfounded, unable to believe in what just happened and sinks back to his chair, feeling his heart break with every step she takes away from him. He knows that she’ll never come back, but he is still hoping. But after more than an hour of sitting there and staring blankly into space, he knows with a sinking realization that she would really never come back anymore.

Maybe he knew all along, but he was just too busy believing that she’d come back that the idea isn’t able to go through his mind until that moment.

He closes his fingers over the ring, fisting his hand over his knees. He bows his head down, regret washing over him like a tidal wave. He should've gone out to follow her. He shouldn’t have carried on with being a trainee, even if it meant that his dreams would go to waste. But it's too late now.

The surface of the metal digs into his palm, and it stings because he is holding on to it as if it is his lifeline, but he ignores the pain he feels. It’s better than feeling the pain in his heart, anyway.

He blinks back tears and sighs, paying attention to the ceiling this time. She was his first love and first heartbreak. He might be able to fall in love again, but things would never be the same as it was with her.

✖✖✖

 “Let’s make it clear that one: no matter what you guys do, I will not be coaxed into wearing a maid uniform, and two: I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever be seen with anything so much resembling that.” Jungkook purses her lips, pressing it into a thin line as she looks at her best friend.

“Well that’s a lot of ever’s,” Jimin notes. “But yeah, never. Sure. Right.” On normal terms, Jungkook should feel relaxed because of Jimin’s assuring words, but the manic gleam in the shorter girl’s eyes tells her otherwise.

“Yes, and my mind has been made up. Nobody could ever change that.” She crosses her arms over her chest and puffs her cheeks, trying to look as stubborn as possible.

Her attempt doesn’t seem to work though, as Jimin’s nose scrunches up, lips forming into a wry smile before pinching the younger girl’s cheeks, saying “You’re such a cute little girl, aren’t you?”

Hoseok, Jungkook’s older brother walks in on them at that moment and taps a finger on Jimin’s shoulder upon seeing the two in the middle of a conversation. “Uhm… Can you please tell me why my sister looks like she’s being tortured?”

Jimin looks up at the guy who’s over a head taller than her. On instinct, she would’ve shrunk in intimidation from their height difference, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s known the guy for quite a long time. She’s been best friends with Jungkook ever since their middle school days, after all.

“How’d you know?” Jimin asks, as if they’re talking about something trivial that doesn’t have anything to do with Jungkook’s dignity. “I always kept my torture methods a secret.”

“There’s that pained look on her face. She looks like you kicked her in the groin,” he observes, glancing at Jungkook. “Or does she have diarrhea?”

“Uhm, hello, I’m, like, right here. You can ask me what’s actually happening, you know.” Jungkook points out.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Jimin says, trying to appear nonchalant, as if Jungkook hasn’t said a thing. She finally lets go of Jungkook’s cheeks, reddened from the pressure of her pinches. Jungkook rubs at the spot where Jimin pinched her, trying to soothe her reddening cheek that made her look as if she just tried to put on an angry shade of blush on that day. Or maybe she was angry while putting on that blush-on because it was furiously red. “I was just trying to convince Kookie here into wearing an outfit like that of Misaki’s. You remember Kaichou wa Maid-sama, right? I think it’ll attract a lot of customers.”

Jungkook winces at mention of her old nickname. Jimin only used to call her that back in middle school. It used to sound like the usual endearment friends would give each other, but as they grew older, the terms wore off, both of them knowing that they were too old for things like that. At times, though, Jimin still calls Jungkook by her pet name, and that’s only because of three things: when Jimin needs a favor from Jungkook, whenever she’s in the mood to piss Jungkook off, or whenever she has something evil planned in her head. Jungkook believes it is clearly a mix of the last two that it was too far off from being categorized with the first one.

“And I was just telling her how preposterous that idea is, because I would never—“ Jungkook starts to say, but she’s cut off by her brother saying, “I think that’d be nice,” a gleam akin to that of Jimin’s present in his eyes.

“Yes!” Jimin raises her hands in the air and waves them repeatedly, running around the staff room in a craze of adrenaline and looking the happiest Jungkook has seen her for the past few months. Jungkook feels bad that Jimin had broken up with her boyfriend for reasons that remain unknown to her, and Jungkook, not knowing anything about relationships doesn’t know of any way to comfort her friend, awkwardly patting Jimin’s back the day she came over to their house, eyes red and puffy. She wants to make the best possible way to make Jimin happy, but no, it doesn’t involve making her own life miserable in more ways than one. Jimin grabs Hoseok by the arm, still hyped up from all the adrenaline and says, “You are the best, oppa! I knew I could count on you!”

Jungkook steps in-between them, shaking her older brother by the shoulder since they were almost of the same height. “Oppa! Don’t tolerate her! She just looks nice and sweet, but I know that you know that deep down, she’s evil!”

She widens her eyes to emphasize her words, but her older brother just chuckles, patting her head. “I think it’d be awesome, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook stares at her brother in unconcealed horror as she hears Jimin snickering beside her. She whips her head to face the older girl. “You’re a hell spawn, unnie. You’re not my best friend; you’re the demon Satan sent here to torment me forever.” Jimin breaks into louder fits of hysterical laughter brought about by the priceless look on Jungkook’s face. She does feel bad for doing this to her friend, but she couldn’t help but delight in the fact that Jungkook will be wearing a Maid café server’s costume. “As long as it’s not me” wasn’t her motto for nothing, after all. Besides, she has plans in mind, and this is only the beginning of it.

“And you,” Jungkook points at her brother, who tilted his head and gave her an innocent look, pointing to himself too. “Me?”

“Yes you, you terrible, terrible traitor.” Jimin covers her mouth with her hands as she sniggers at Jungkook’s remark, but Jungkook ignores her, eyes trying to bore through her older brother’s skull. “Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your family! Dishonor on your cow!” she squawks at him and then stomps off in indignation through the door and away from the two people who have always been the closest to her (who also happened to be the people who liked to ruin her life).

“We belong to the same family tree, you know!” Hoseok calls after her, and he gains a straightforward “I don’t care!” in return. He laughs, giving Jimin a conspiratorial glance. Jimin grins knowingly, her supple cheeks looking like apples. This plan will definitely work.

✖✖✖

 “Park Jimin, I swear, once I get out of this costume, I will strangle you to death.” Jungkook gives Jimin a withering glare, hoping that her best friend would at least have an overview of the murder scene she is currently picturing in her head. “I hope you die a horrible, horrible death and that your face will dry up as if it got hit by a terrible heat wave.”

Jimin brushes all of those threats off, waving dismissively at Jungkook. “Yeah yeah, you’ll either curse me and my whole clan for centuries or beat me to death with a bludgeon. You hate me right now, but I know that deep down, you love me.” Jungkook hates the fact that Jimin knows how much she cares for the older girl even though they practically get on each other’s throats at times like this, but she hates the smug grin that comes along with Jimin’s taunts even more. “There will come a time that you’ll thank me for this, trust me.”

Jungkook rolls her eyes at the older girl. “Right. I would totally thank you for taking out my hopes of finding a decent husband in the future. Well, I hope you get hit by a truck on your way home.” Jimin just laughs, because she knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean it anyway.

Jungkook opens the door that leads out of the café’s staff room and walks to stand by the counter, and Jimin could practically hear the sound of jaws dropping and sighs of admiration from the male customers as her best friend comes to their view. She could even imagine the faces of the females crumpled into unimaginable looks of envy at Jungkook’s picture-perfect face and delicate but nice body frame.

“Lo and behold, my greatest creation!” Jimin says in her mind, gesturing widely with her arms swhile cackling silently.

“Love you too!” Jimin calls after Jungkook, suppressing giggles before going back to tying her apron. Jungkook rolls her eyes. If the café just hadn’t been owned by her family… If her brother just wasn’t the one who was running their family business… Well, things would’ve turned out differently, and maybe Jimin would’ve been the one wrestled in a really itchy Maid café costume, serving people with a delightful smile plastered on her face despite having the urge to kick someone in the face instead; she would’ve been the one under scrutiny from all the jealous girls in the vicinity; she would’ve been the one receiving the weird looks from the practically-drooling guys. Jungkook blames it all on Misaki and Usui’s influential love story.

“I hate fan service.” She mutters to herself as she places a list of orders on the counter. Jimin looks up from the cup of coffee that she’s mixing, giving Jungkook a smile that occupies most of her face, her eyes disappearing into slits.

“Too bad though, everybody else seems to like it. You’ve got fan boys now, look.” Jimin points at a table crowded with boys whose eyes are all trained on Jungkook’s every movement. Jungkook turns to face the direction were Jimin is pointing to, but looks away in an instant.

She doesn’t want rabid fan boys occupying all her personal space. In all reality, all she wants is for that guy she always saw visiting here to finally talk to her at least once, because she’s painfully curious about the reason behind his disappearance that was as sudden as his return.

Two years ago, she sometimes visited their family’s café, always to find that boy with a girl whose face she can’t even remember anymore, seated in a spot near the window and absorbed in their own world. One day, though, the girl stopped coming, and the boy never went back. That is, until the previous day, when he came in through the door a little too somber compared to his usual loud entrance, his lips forming a straight line instead of the usual bright smile. A guy had taken a seat with him moments later, but she pushed all rational thoughts out of her head and volunteered to serve their food even if it was Jimin who was on duty that time just to test if the guy was as interesting close-up as he had been from afar, trying to push all the reluctance out of her system and leaving them behind.

Of course, Jimin had been dubious, knowing that Jungkook usually stuck to washing the dishes or mixing the drinks, but she didn’t say anything about it. Looking back, Jungkook grows suspicious as to why Jimin didn’t point that fact out and tease her to no end, knowing that it was second nature to Jimin to detect whenever she’s having a crush on someone and whoever that person is. Surely, Jimin doesn’t plan on intervening, right?

“Watch out, though, they might even come with glittering fan signs and glow sticks the next time they get here.” Jimin snorts, distracting Jungkook from her train of thought. She shivers at the thought of having to put up with those guys and pushed away the mental image of a crowd of guys chanting her name over and over again and chasing her across the streets just to see her up close and personal.

Jungkook leans on the counter, placing her elbows on top of it and covering her face with her hands. “This is all your fault.” She says, not even straining to hide the exasperation in her voice.

“I know, you don’t need to put that in a banner outside the store,” Jimin leans across the counter, only a few inches away from the miserable figure that is her best friend. “I’m a saint, that’s what we all do.”

✖✖✖

“NO I AM NOT GOING INTO THAT PLACE NO I WILL NOT EVER—OUCH!” Jungkook falls on the cold, tiled floor of the mall’s entrance as Jimin shoves her in. At least not much damage had been done, since she was able to break her fall by holding out her hands and prevent falling face-first on the ground. She stands up and hastily wipes her hands on her laced black skirt, giving Jimin the evil eye. If looks could kill, Jimin would’ve probably dropped dead a long time ago. Good thing only a few people were present near the area and no one bothered to spare a second glance at the scene they’ve made. Jungkook would have had to strangle Jimin then and there if anything happened otherwise.

“Why not? It’s a cosplay convention, and it just so happened that you’re in a maid costume!” Jimin pulls her along. The older girl is surprisingly strong for someone so small and fragile-looking, and Jungkook considers the idea that her best friend might have been lifting weights at the gym instead of attending ballet classes.

“But I don’t want to be part of that!” Jungkook tries prying Jimin’s death grip off of her wrist, but the older one just wouldn’t budge. Exasperated, she just gives up and voluntarily lets herself be dragged along, muttering things along the lines of, “Green’s the color you hate the most, right? Green will also be the color of the grass that I will use to cover the ground where I will bury your dead body, though” and “I will make you wear this maid costume on your deathbed.”

“We’re here!” Jimin makes a grand gesture as if she was showcasing the entire place with one big sweep of her hand. Jungkook gives her a bored look, knowing that resistance isn’t an option and instead looks around the vicinity. As she scans her eyes over the place though, she noticed that it was definitely not a cosplay convention but a fashion show. And right there, behind the female model that was strutting forward on the catwalk was a backdrop that had the words, “Big Hit Runway Fashion Show”.

But what caught her attention weren’t the gorgeous models, nor the famous connoisseurs seated on black plastic chairs near the ramp, debating whether orange was the new black or bone white would be a better color to use on that dress rather than eggshell white, but one of the faces that the backdrop had.

Because in the center of the backdrop were the faces of four young men clad in black suits, and the one in the very middle had the familiar light brown hair and dark eyeliner that she had just seen a few days ago.

It was that guy from the café.

“What the fuck is this?” Jimin’s grip grows a little slack when she sees the backdrop. “Is this some sort of sick joke?” The words “Bangtan Sonyeondan” are written in Hangeul below, and Jungkook assumes that it’s the group’s name. Which probably means… they’re celebrities? Jungkook shakes her head. No way. “That guy’s—no, it can’t be.” Jimin says in a hushed voice that’s barely a whisper, echoing the younger girl’s thoughts, but probably for a different reason. This is one of the rare times that Jungkook sees her looking unnerved, and she feels as if she’s intruding on something private.

Taking this opportunity of distraction, Jungkook presses her luck and manages to escape from Jimin’s hold on her and slip out of the door with hurried footsteps, careful not to make any noise so Jimin wouldn’t notice. She almost raises her fist in the air, glad that she’s lucky enough to escape when she bumps into someone along the way.

Well, maybe she’s not that lucky, after all.

It’s funny how when you’re trying so hard to avoid any encounters with someone you don’t want to see, you always end up bumping into them. To Jungkook however, the situation didn’t appeal as something funny. Maybe years from now, she’ll look back on this moment and just laugh it off, piling it into one of those embarrassing moments that would give her a rush of nostalgia even though she’d rather not talk about it anymore so as not to spring up any feelings of awkwardness, but right now, all she wants is to hide in her room for weeks.

“I don’t have a crush on him,” she insists in defense. “This is just, like, some sort of compulsion to follow an attracting force.” But she doesn’t get to remember that, mind going blank when she collides with the lad himself, crashing in his arms as if they were in one of those cheesy, clichéd romantic films.

His first reaction is to steady her, and she dumbly tries to regain her balance with his help, feeling a blush creeping through the surface of her cheeks. She looks up at him, eyes wide and worried, an apology prepared hanging off at the tip of her tongue, when she realizes that he’s already looking at her.

He still looks a bit dazed from the confusion of the sudden impact, but then his eyes focuses on hers, their gazes meeting for the first time. She knows that she’s supposed to put distance between them as soon as possible, but the soft look in those dark eyes lined with kohl which she just saw days back with a sad look kept her in place, and she isn’t aware that she had been staring into those seemingly-endless pits if it weren’t for the soft sound of apprehension that escapes the man’s lips. “Miss, are you alright?” he asks, and she is surprised at how deep his voice is, as if it came from someone who’s much older and has a big body frame.

She gets her bearings and hastily shoves him away upon instinct and immediately regrets it, profusely apologizing for her rude behavior. “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry.” He says, still looking at her with those gentle eyes. She ducks her head and dusts off the imaginary dust on her skirt just to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye, unsure of what she might do if she does.

He’s still looking at her expectantly, as if wanting her to do or say something, and she feels unnerved, not knowing what to say. She does want to take the conversation further, given that this might be the only chance she’s getting to talk to the guy, but she feels torn between that option and ending the conversation even before it actually began, feeling timid all over again. But he breaks the awkward bubble between them first, saying the words that she doesn’t expect to hear from him. “Hey, aren’t you that girl from the café?” She looks up from staring at the lace lined along the hem of her skirt, seeing his head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed in concentration as if trying to remember her face to affirm if he’s right.

Jungkook stops fiddling with her skirt, blood running cold in her veins. He recognized her? But they’ve only interacted once, that was impossible! Unless…

She blinked to clear her thoughts away. Nah, he would never spare a minute of thinking about her, much less remembering her face. That’s preposterous. “Maybe,” she answers mysteriously, giving him a small smile to hide her internal panic.

Of the many things she expected him to do, smiling back at her wasn’t at the top; it wasn’t even on the list, to be quite honest. But when he flashes her a rectangular-shaped grin showing most of his teeth, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile widely in return.

“Nah, I remember you,” he thrusts his hand forward, another thing that Jungkook hasn’t expect him to do at all. He’s been contradicting all of her presumptions, and now she’s even more curious, with him remaining as a complete enigma to her.

And did he just say that he remembered her? Because she thinks she just might start hyperventilating if she starts thinking deeper into that. “I’m Taehyung, by the way. Kim Taehyung.”

Jungkook takes his hand, careful not to look too eager to shake it and take out her phone to take a picture with him. “I’m Jungkook.” She smiles sweetly.

And in that moment, she thought that maybe she should thank Jimin after all.

“But why are you in a maid costume?”

Or maybe not.

✖✖✖

“But technically speaking, you’re an idol, right?” Jungkook insists, leaning her weight against the wall. Her feet are beginning to ache from wearing heels all day, not used to wearing those things she refers to as torture devices on the long run. “So you’ll get to meet Big Bang someday? Because when you do, you totally need to get G-Dragon’s signature for me. It will be, like, a life-debt. I will even be willing to be your personal assistant for a year, without pay.”

“Well, even if we’re a band, if you look at it from another perspective, given we are under an entertainment company that’s known for manufacturing the standardized idols, I think so, yeah.” He shrugs. “And you know, if you really want that signature, you can start being my PA now.”

“Without pay? You’re kidding me. I’m only agreeing to be left unpaid if you do get the signature.” Kim Taehyung, as he again disproves her theory, verifies that he’s surprisingly an easy person to talk to. Jungkook doesn’t find it difficult at all to warm up to him and his habit of shifting to different topics quickly, but she does try to find ways to keep their conversation on track, so she wouldn’t end up all confused and running around in circles.

“We haven’t even debuted yet!” he reasons out. “It would take, like, a year or two before we’re even allowed to go to those music shows where they’re performing.” He turns his head to look at her, and even if they’re practically still a good few inches apart, Jungkook feels as if she’s going to melt from the proximity. “I sure do hope you’re patient, because that’s quite a long time. 31536000 seconds, as far as I can remember.”

“You memorized that.” Jungkook accuses.

“No I didn’t. I’m, like, a human calculator.” Taehyung says in defense, a laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Still, that’s unnecessary information. I didn’t need to know how many seconds there was to every year. You’re probably just boasting, you nerd.” She playfully punches him in the arm, and for a second, she stills, afraid that she might have crossed the invisible boundary she’s drawn between close friends and acquaintances because she doesn’t want being accused of being too comfortable with someone who she’s only formally met, but the laugh that comes out of his lips is enough to put her at ease.

“Hey, just because you cut classes doesn’t mean you need to bully those who don’t.” He holds his hands out in front of him as if that could save him from getting punched.

Jungkook rolls her eyes at him. “I shouldn’t have told you that. That could as much as easily be blackmail material, and I gave it away. Now there’s no thrill left.”

“I’m actually glad you told me that. Now we have a common ground, since I don’t like going to school either. I just go there because staying at home would be boring, and I do get to hang out with some friends there.” He admits, smile reaching his eyes. Even if he’s only grinning now, the laughter doesn’t die down in his eyes. Jungkook finds herself blushing even if she doesn’t recognize any flirting behind Taehyung’s words.

“Jungkook! There you are! How could you just leave me inside—“Jimin stops her rambling when she sees that Jungkook is with that guy she’s seen back at the café. Oh, what a coincidence. It’s not like Jimin planned to get her to come see him. It’s not like that at all. “Oh, well hello there.” She says, her eyebrows perking up, not expecting to see him here. She thought she could begin her “Operation: Get Jungkook to hook up with that guy from that café” once the fashion show ended, but it seems that Jungkook could take care of herself. She almost pats herself in the back, as if it was because of her that Jungkook is now acquainted with the guy she’s been eyeing with painful obviousness. “I believe we haven’t been introduced formally yet. I’m Park Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend.”

Taehyung shoots Jungkook a wary look, but Jungkook just shrugs. “She works at the café too, don’t you remember?”

Taehyung almost says that he only remembers Jungkook from that day, but he isn’t just about to say that, because that would most definitely come out sounding like a romantic confession. He might as well have said I only have eyes for you, which would have been cheesy, but much more straightforward. “Of course, of course.” He lies, but Jimin could see right through it. She almost crinkles her nose, because how dare he forget her? It’s not like she has a forgettable face or anything. “Taehyung.” He introduces with a grin showing most of his teeth, but he doesn’t hold out his hand like he did with Jungkook. Jungkook takes note of this with intrigue.

“Is there something wrong between the two of them?” she thinks. “Why didn’t he shake hands with her?” but she doesn’t want to read between the lines, because she might misinterpret Taehyung, and she doesn’t want things to be awkward between the two of them, now that they’ve only just become friends.

“Oh by the way, Jungkook, do you want to go to our debut showcase?” Taehyung turns his head to ask her, and she stares at him in mild confusion.

“What?”

“I said, do you want to go to our debut showcase? It’s on Saturday next week. No need to worry about the ticket, it’s all on me. You can bring a friend too, if you want.” He says, obviously meaning Jimin. He says this coolly, brushing off the surprised look on both of the girls’ faces as if the favor were something that you could offer every day to someone you just met.

“I mean, I thought you already debuted?” Jungkook clarifies. “You’ve performed for the fashion show a while ago, right?” Jimin almost screams “What?” a wee bit too high, because she would’ve wanted to see that other guy and see if he really does have talent just so she could spite him even more, but she bites back her tongue to restrain herself.

“Oh, you mean that. That was a pre-debut event for our group to gain attention. Bring in some hype. You know, some kind of marketing strategy the company’s always tried to pull off with groups that are about to debut. It’s like a promotion for the real deal, you get what I mean?” Taehyung explains. Jimin smiles to herself, the exchange between the two painfully oblivious people amusing her.

“Sure, we’ll be there.” Jimin quickly agrees, right before Jungkook could open her mouth to say, “We’ll think about it.” The younger curses mentally, knowing that Jimin agreed because she knows Jungkook might bail out.

The older girl smiles at Jungkook and winks, knowing that she’s won. “Dammit, she knows me too well.” She thinks.

✖✖✖

It shouldn’t have surprised Jungkook when Taehyung comes to the coffee shop the next day, alone but with a hopeful smile on his face, greeting everyone with a polite bow before sitting in his usual spot by the window as it had been in the old days; as if he hasn’t disappeared for two years at all.

It shouldn’t have bothered her either when Taehyung begins frequenting the shop, making sure that he at least visits once a week. Except it does and she finds herself taking a few minutes longer than usual in her daily routine to make sure that she looks her best all the time without it seeming that she tried to put in a lot of effort; without it being obvious that she’s trying to impress someone.

“He likes you,” Jimin points out one day without batting an eyelash. “It’s pretty obvious. Why else would he even bother coming back here every day, when he’s obviously busy preparing for their debut?”

“Maybe because the food is good?” Jungkook supplies, but Jimin just wouldn’t take that for an answer. She carefully hands Jungkook a parfait in a bowl, and the latter puts it in a tray already containing a single cup of caramel macchiato.

“And he even gave you tickets to their debut showcase.” Jimin clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Must mean a lot, don’t you think?”

“Oh come on unnie, he’s just being nice.” Jimin scrunches her face in annoyance, exasperated by the fact that Jungkook still couldn’t grasp the situation.

“The drinks, then?” she tries to appease Jimin when she sees the older girl’s reaction.

“Seriously, I don’t know if you’re blind or what, but I hope you don’t trip on your way to lover boy,” she teases, and Jungkook could only scowl at her in retaliation, not exactly having anything in mind to answer back. “You should be thankful that he really likes you. Because if that wasn’t the case, then I would have insisted with the fact that I got dibs on him first.” She adds mostly in a whisper, even when Jungkook is out of earshot and is on her way to serve Taehyung’s order.

The caramel macchiato leaves a salty-sweet aftertaste in Taehyung’s tongue, making him recall memories long forgotten; the sweetness and creamy texture reminds him of times of utmost bliss and unexpected surprises—of times spent laughing until stomachs and cheeks begin to hurt.

The saltiness reminds him of his tears and long-forgotten promises; of days spent feeling alone and isolated, but he doesn’t want to delve into that anymore. He had too much sadness to bear in two years. It’s high time he got back to annoying the fuck out of people.

“So how was our new special for today sir? Did you like it?” Jungkook inquires him as she passes by his table when she served a drink to the couple seated at the table near his usual spot, pen tucked safely in her left ear and notepad slipped into the pocket of her blue apron. She isn’t wearing any make-up today, yet if Taehyung was asked, he would probably answer that she looked her best today, of all days.

“Delicious,” he lies. Though the taste wasn’t even near bad, he isn’t sure of what he thought about the drink yet, since he was used to drinking in the bitterness of black coffee. But when Jungkook recommended him to try their new special, he felt that he should oblige. How could he say no to those beautiful eyes and that charming smile, after all? “Who made this?”

Jungkook gives him a proud smile. “I did.” She answers, before walking back to the counter. Taehyung’s gaze follows her steps, and he realizes that he might not have been lying, after all.

Eventually, polite nods and cheerful greetings began to be replaced with an exchange of phone numbers, late nights spent talking on the phone and the afternoons whenever he dropped by spent sharing meaningful glances and inside jokes. It doesn’t take Taehyung that long to realize that he had managed to forget trying to remember the face of a girl who probably didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, and that someone else had come up to take her place instead.

✖✖✖

There are too many people standing and craning their necks to see the band that has brought up such a hype online for their pre-debut cover videos, and it is one of those times that Jimin is thankful that she’s small that even though no one usually notices all the cute little details about her, she could easily slip into a crowd and blend in.

This is how she ends up in front of the crowd in the V.I.P. section with Jungkook, their bodies still intact and unharmed. “Oh my god, this is so cool,” she says, voice loud so that Jungkook could hear her over the cheering noises the crowd is making, the stage lighting up and a spotlight focusing on the band onstage. “Wait till I tweet this.” She fiddles with her phone typing in, a clacking sound coming from each key she presses, but it’s drowned out by the obnoxiously loud greeting a man wearing sunglasses makes.

He introduces himself as Namjoon, waving his drumsticks in hand. He’s wearing all black as if he was going to a funeral, but Jimin guesses that’s just how people that belong to bands dress up. He gestures to Taehyung, who has a guitar hanging across his body, bright smile contrasting with the drab of gray his shirt is. A guy who’s probably taller than her by only a few centimeters looks younger than her, or maybe Jungkook even, but maybe that’s just because he looks like a fragile child, small and looking out-of-place in the middle of the stage with his taller band mates. A guitar that looks too big on him is slung over his shoulder and he fiddles with the strings, seemingly uninterested in the crowd as he gives a weary smile and a wave when he is introduced as Yoongi.

It’s been weeks since her last encounter with the man who spitefully ignored her the first time they met, and it’s only been a few days after that when she found out that he was Taehyung’s band mate that she somehow forgot everything about that encounter, but now, as he’s standing only a few feet away from her, she scrunches her nose in distaste. Seokjin had been the name she tried to remember to associate a name with that face, but then she scoffs, because why would she even try to remember the name of the bassist who had insulted her pride by promptly ignoring her indirect flirting? That just seems ridiculous.

Namjoon runs over to the back to start hitting the drums, building up the rhythm with every forceful strike of the instrument, and Jungkook is surprised at how deep Taehyung’s voice is, its beauty resonating through her chest, the melody marking itself on her mind. It’s catchy, and she hums along, smiling.

By some strange miracle, Taehyung finds her in the crowd and waves at her. At first, she isn’t sure if she’s the one he’s waving at, but then he locks eyes with her, his gaze intense, deep voice coming through the speakers sounding like he’s serenading her instead of singing to a crowd and she gives up playing safe and grins at him, shouting out his name and cheering for him. Taehyung almost laughs, but he’s still in the middle of a performance, so he doesn’t.

Jimin shrugs when the chorus comes in and Seokjin is now the one singing, because he doesn’t sound particularly bad that she would blatantly boo at him, but his voice isn’t that stellar, nor is it as surprising or powerful as Taehyung’s. It was okay; a lot better than the screeching mess Jimin had imagined, much to her chagrin. She’s expected that he only got in because of his looks, but maybe they did see his talent.

“I have a backstage pass, wanna come?” Jungkook says loudly into her ear, and she doesn’t know why, but she says yes.

“It’s for Jungkook. So that she wouldn’t have to go there alone.” She tells herself, because really, she doesn’t have anyone who she needs to see there.

✖✖✖

Taehyung is holding up a portable, battery-powered fan in front of his face the moment they enter the dressing room. He’s sitting on the dresser instead of the chair, but none of his companions seem to be perturbed. None of the staff are around since they’re starting to pack up, with the showcase already finished and all, and surely, the boys could clean themselves up on their own. “You really came!” he greets them with a goofy smile, jumping out of his seat. There’s that look in his eyes, and Jimin couldn’t help but think that he looks like he’s lovesick. She smiles to herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have come along, so Jungkook and Taehyung could both enjoy this moment together.

It’s hard to ignore the fact that Namjoon has spotted them, what with the way his head seems to look away from facing the mirror, hand caught mid-wipe on his face. He stands up, and there are still beads of sweat trickling down his brow, but his eyes seem to be sparkling. “Aye, you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone over, Taehyung. We could’ve at least tidied up the place a bit.” Namjoon remarks when he comes over them, introducing himself formally. Jimin and Jungkook do the same out of respect, even though they partly fear the band’s leader for his aura. He seems to be a nice guy, but those sunglasses aren’t really working if you’re wearing them in the middle of the night.

“Hey Yoongi-hyung, say hi.” Namjoon calls out to a guy who has his arms crossed over his chest, head bent low and eyes closed. His legs are propped up on top of the dresser, his position on his seat looking quite uncomfortable as he seems as if he’s about to fall, but Jimin concludes with a strange realization that he seems to be taking a nap quite well.

Yoongi raises his right hand in the air, open-palmed as if he’s about to wave at them, but he doesn’t. “’Sup.” He says simply head still bent and eyes still closed, crossing his arms in front of his chest again in a matter of a few seconds.

“Sorry ‘bout that, he’s just really tired. Been sleeping late to prepare for today, you see.” Namjoon explains with an apologetic smile. Jimin and Jungkook simply brush it off, because seriously, everybody needs their rest.

“Hey, manager-hyung asked if you guys would want to go to a hanwoo restaurant or eat another batch of beef bulgogi lunch sets—“ someone out of the door calls out, and everyone’s attention lock in on the person who just stepped in.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know—“ Seokjin begins with a small smile, seeing Jungkook, but he stops in his tracks upon seeing who she’s with. “Why is she here?” he asks to nobody in particular, looking at Jimin as if he’s sizing her up. It comes out as an accusation instead of a question, and even he knows this wouldn’t end very well for either of them. Jimin is affronted with his words and the bite in his tone, and of course, being who she is, she stands her ground, not backing down from a fight.

Jimin puffs her chest as if preparing for a physical fight. “Because Taehyung invited me.” She answers, that same stubbornness in her voice Jungkook has heard years ago, back when some guy kept teasing Jungkook and she stepped up to defend the younger. Her eyebrows are raised in a complete challenge.

Seokjin crinkles his nose. “Are you perhaps stalking me?”

This time Jimin laughs, haughty and defiant. “Uhm, sorry to disappoint you, but no. I have something called a life, and it would be nice if you tried to get one, too.” She snickers at his expression, knowing that she’s won this battle, and turns away on her heels, with Jungkook mumbling endless apologies to everyone before quickening her pace to follow her.

“Well damn hyung, I think you’ve just met your match.” Namjoon comments, patting his shoulder.

Seokjin isn’t sure if he wants to punch her for being sassy with him or be amazed at how she’s good at this.

✖✖✖

It’s painfully difficult to miss the tall, wide-shouldered man who just entered the café, and even while she’s wiping the countertop, Jimin isn’t blind to not see him from her peripheral vision. He settles himself on Taehyung’s usual seat, and Jimin assumes that he’s waiting for his band members again.

“Now why is he even here? Nobody likes him. He should go away.” Jimin scrunches up her nose in distaste, and Jungkook can’t help but remember that she had the very same reaction Seokjin did when he saw her back in the day of the showcase. But she knows better than to point that out, though.

“Because he’s a customer, and he pays.” she answers as-a-matter-of-factly putting back the mug she just finished wiping back on the rack, and Jimin just hates that she’s right. “And you’re probably the only one who hates him, to be quite honest.” It did ring true. The ahjumma who was part of the old regular staff simply adored him, the cleaning guy-slash-repairman had played with basketball with him a few times (the whole café knew because he kept bragging about being able to defeat Seokjin in all of those games), and Hoseok seemed to think of him as a brother, sometimes coming to their performances whenever he’s not busy and hanging out with him and his band mates in the arcade center nearby.

“But this isn’t fair.” Jimin complains, pulling at her own braids in frustration. “He seems to treat other people nicely, but he keeps singling me out and teasing me even when I did what you said and tried to be civil with him.”

“Well, for one, he wouldn’t single you out if he’s not interested. He so obviously likes you.” Jungkook points out, as if everything’s written out in front of them. “C’mon unnie, I thought you were the smart one here?”

Jimin frowns at her, objection clear in her face. “I don’t know about that, but I’m sure as hell not the one who got a four out of a hundred in her English test.” Jimin retorts, and Jungkook regrets not chucking that test paper in the trash bin before the older girl has seen it.

The door opens again, the sound of chimes filling the air, and both Jimin and Jungkook looked at the person who just entered with alertness in their eyes, going back to business as usual, when they realize who just entered. “Well I guess your lover boy’s here,” Jimin snickers, and Jungkook has half the mind to take off her shoes and chuck them at the other’s direction. “Better go greet him, Kookie. No need to be close-mouthed about it and hide your feelings.”

“Hey!” Taehyung raises his hand in greeting, rectangular-shaped grin occupying more than half of his face, and Jungkook smiles despite Jimin’s teasing. She waves her hand back even though she could practically walk the few steps that separated them. He turns his head to glance at his usual seat, and he almost frowns, seeing it’s been occupied, but the grin on his face doesn’t falter. Especially when he sees the face of the person sitting there. “Oh hey, hyung! Didn’t know you’d come this early.”

Seokjin smirks at him, arms crossed over his chest. “And I didn’t know you’d come in this late. Where are those two?”

Taehyung glances back at Jungkook and gives a small bow with a smile before heading up to Seokjin. “Oh, you know, having a fight over whose turn it was to wash the dishes and whose turn it was to do the laundry. The usual.” Jungkook could loudly hear Jimin laughing in derision as if the older girl was laughing right in her ear even though she was trying to hide it behind her hands, but she could only retort by elbowing the other, because there’s still that smile on her face that she couldn’t smother out.

Jimin stopped laughing, but a wide smile is still on her face. “Aw, you guys are so cute. Such an innocent, young love. But I’m pretty sure everything’s boiling down at the bottom, though.” This time, Jungkook elbows her harder.

Taehyung glances in their direction, tilting his head towards their table to silently tell them that he’s ready to order, and Jimin uses this opportunity to push Jungkook into the scene and get her stuck with the situation. “Go. I still want my ribs intact.” She says in that voice that she uses when she’s pretending to be extremely hurt physically.

“I saw the way you keep looking at her. I’m not blind, you know.” Seokjin tells Taehyung right after Jungkook has left to prepare the drink that he’s ordered—a large cup of caramel macchiato.

Taehyung blinks, trying to act innocent about the whole exchange. “What do you mean, hyung?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s nice to have you back, Kim Taehyung.” He nods with a small smile and doesn’t pretend that he knows nothing. After all, he couldn’t deny that this much is true; that after he’s met Jungkook, he’s found himself frequenting the café again even though it held memories that were too painful for him to come back to.

Maybe because this time, he’s visiting for a different person and a different purpose. “Thanks, hyung,” his grin grows even wider. “It’s good to be back.”

✖✖✖

Taehyung blinks under Hoseok’s gaze. Jungkook’s older brother has his eyes in slits, thumb and forefinger rubbing at his chin as if deep in thought.

He feels rooted to his seat, will withering under the older man’s scrutiny. He thinks it would have been nice if Seokjin has intervened and said something other than a greeting once Hoseok walked through the café’s door and then immediately sat on one of the unoccupied seats, Namjoon and Yoongi having had gone to the nearest convenience store to buy a few things first.

Nobody has said anything in a short while that Taehyung almost jumps in his seat when Hoseok suddenly speaks out, moving to sit in a more comfortable position and cross his arms over his chest. “I’m okay with having you as my brother-in-law, you know.” And then he grins mischievously, all pretense of seriousness that he had a while ago gone now. “As long as you don’t get Jungkookie pregnant before you two get married.” Hoseok teases them, and Jungkook, who was on her way back to the counter after serving a group of teenage girls sitting near the three some cake, positively blushes up to the roots of her hair in embarrassment.

“I don’t think he could promise that, though. You know children these days—they’re too hot-blooded.” Seokjin comments, and Jungkook is positive that her face looks like it’s been dipped in red paint now.

Taehyung’s mouth opens, about to say something, but then he closes it again, the words not flowing to the tip of his tongue. He is saved from replying, however, when Jungkook turns around and pats her brother on the back. “My older brother is such a funny guy, isn’t he?” she gives them a fake laugh, and Taehyung couldn’t help but see the tenseness in her shoulders.

“Oppa! Please just go back to work.” She harshly whispers into his ear, and when he doesn’t get the idea to stand up by himself, about to open his mouth to say something else to Taehyung, she grabs him by the arm and wheels him away to the counter. But it wasn’t before Taehyung could hear him call out with a laugh that the two got out of earshot, “Give me a call once you two make it official! Everything needs to be documented!”

✖✖✖

As he and Jungkook are leisurely taking their time strolling along the shores the day Jungkook and Jimin both decided to take a time out from their part time jobs at the café (“It’s summer! We’re allowed to relax and have some fun sometimes, right?” Taehyung had overheard Jimin reason with Hoseok, as she had always been the girl who was able to convince anyone into conniving with her, even though the idea might have also been an attempt at murder) and frolic around the beach with them (their manager-hyung had decided to give them a break), he suddenly realizes that this is his chance. Especially when it seems that Jimin and Seokjin are probably going to take quite some time buying some ice cream at the shop straight ahead (“They’re obviously flirting with each other but they’re still waiting for one of them to give up and admit first, those idiots.” Jungkook had told him right after the two took off).

“Jungkook, what if a certain… uhm… friend told you that he likes you?” Jungkook stops walking, and he does so too. He couldn’t help but feel all tingly inside at the smile she gives him. “What made you ask that?”

“Nothing, I’m just curious.”

“Hmmm… Well,” she started pacing slowly, biting her lower lip. “Maybe I’d just laugh it off. It’s obvious that you like a person once you’re friends. Why would you like to befriend that person otherwise, right?”

Taehyung fights the urge to roll his eyes, taking every bit of power that he has to stop himself from giving her a look of disappointment.“So this is the brilliance of a prodigy,” he thinks. But what he says is, “No, by like I mean… fondness. Adoration…Love.” He adds when she gave him a quizzical look.

“What do you—“

“I like you.” He confesses, cutting her question off.

For a moment she looks shocked, but then she recollects her thoughts and throws her head back in laughter. “Oh boy. You almost got me at that one.”

“But I’m not joking,” Taehyung complains.

“Yeah, I understand,” Jungkook answers, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes from too much laughing. “Okay Taehyung-oppa, I like you too. We’ve been friends for almost a year; you didn’t need to say that out loud and embarrass yourself.”

Taehyung feels the urge to rip his hair out and run away madly, screaming bloody murder at the person who invented the word “Friendzone”. But he couldn’t give up now, right?

So instead of sulking like a sore loser, he pulls her by the wrist. “What—“she had started to say, but he interrupts her by kissing her square on the lips. Her lips tasted like caramel macchiato, and it made him remember the drink she had made herself, asking for his opinion on how it tasted like.

It’s a close-mouthed smack, but Jungkook could feel all the blood in her body rise to her face. It’s as chaste as a kiss could ever be, but Jungkook’s heart is thumping like crazy, hammering so hard against her ribs that it hurt. When it ended, however, with Taehyung pulling away to see the expression on her face, she felt downright frustrated.

“What was that?” her face is flushed, her eyes filled with vigor.

“I told you right, I like you.” Taehyung cups the back of her neck and gently brings her head forward, pressing her forehead against his own. “And I don’t just kiss my friends, trust me on that.”

“But how could this be possible? He’s famous—he’s an idol.” Jungkook debates with herself.

“Hey, band guy, remember?” Taehyung tells her, and it’s quite late when she realizes that she has said her thoughts out loud. “And I’m not famous. Well, at least, not yet.” He adds a cheeky grin.

Jungkook still looked at lost for words, but he thinks it’s okay, because he knows he can wait.

He remembers thinking that nobody could replace that girl, and how he had always heard that he would always find someone else. He was right, of course. But they had been right too. Being with Jungkook would never be the same as being with his ex-girlfriend, because he knows that Jungkook is different.

✖✖✖

“I told you he was a natural!” Seokjin covers his mouth good-naturedly as he laughs from where he is hidden behind a large crate of apples in front of the fruit shop near the ice cream store. Jimin is right beside him, crouched in an uncomfortable position.

“You idiot, you’ll get seen!” she grabs him by the collar, and he loses his balance, ending up on top of her. They stare off into each other’s eyes for what seems to be an eternity before they simultaneously decide to look away, unnerved. Seokjin gets up, helping Jimin to a seating position as he does the same. She mutters a word of thanks and tucks away a few strands of her hair that got blown away by the wind behind her ear.

Jimin clears her throat. “Anyway, you still owe me money.”

Seokjin pretends not to understand what she meant. “For what?”

“Oh come on oppa, don’t give me that look.” She rolls her eyes at him. “You owe me five hundred won. You lost the bet, flower boy.” She brings her hand forward, palm up, and Seokjin couldn’t help but marvel at how impeccable her hand is. “Now give me the money.”

“Or what?” he tries, testing her patience.

“Or I’ll shove this Popsicle stick up your—“she is silenced by the pressure of soft lips against hers. Seokjin grins into the kiss. This is the first time that he’s seen the girl at loss for words. She looks downright shocked, as if she’d seen a naked man running around the street, but soon snaps out of it when Seokjin places a five hundred won bill on top of her hand.

“Alright, you won. Now shut up about it or else—“

“Or else what?” she raises her eyebrows in an attempt to challenge him. Two can play at this game, punk.

“Or else I’ll kiss you.” Jimin’s eyebrows rise higher, and if it weren’t for the laws of Physiology, her eyebrows would’ve reached the back of her head and made a 360-degree rotation around her face already.

“By that do you mean screaming, or simply talking, or—“Jimin’s yammering is once again disturbed by Seokjin placing an open-mouthed kiss on her lips. She stiffens once again in surprise, but it doesn’t take too long for her to wrap her hands around Seokjin’s nape and return his kisses, moving forward to deepen it further.

“Well if the term of agreement was that for every word that came out of my mouth, I get a kiss from him, then I don’t think I would mind having my saliva dried up from talking too much.” Jimin thinks, and she couldn’t help but smile in the middle of their kiss.