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kflixnet · 6 hours ago

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[MDNI] New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Cath's smut fic!

Pretty Girls

Summary: Yoongi is back from tour for a day and Miso tries to make the best of it. Chaeyoung seeks advice on her new relationship with Hoseok. Sooah and Jimin try to be helpful, while Kaya tries to get her boyfriend to stop smoking.

Pairing: OT3 x OC (feat. Jimin x OC) (different OCs)

Genre: Humour, fluff, mild angst, smut

Word count: 12.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, kissing, alcohol, blowjobs, semi-public intimacy, smoking

A/N: No, this hasn't been edited because I wanted to post it before I end up delaying this for another week. I hope this came out the way I pictured because the way I pictured it was 🥰 This is set about six to eight weeks after Late Night Call.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @confessionsofamarshlily@jiminjhang@xjoonchildx@tarahardcore@infinitehobi@handfullofcandids@whoisbts @jihopesjoint @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "something pretty" by patrick park

namjoon masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | jimin masterlist | main masterlist

Yoongi steps out of his building, running a hand through his long hair and checking his phone for his emails. There might be a meeting today; he hasn’t been invited to it yet and he hopes it stays that way, but there’s really no telling.

He squints slightly as he steps out, tilting his head up to the sky before he puts on a pair of sunglasses. It’s a beautiful day, the kind that movie montages are made in, but his is a day of errands and catching up on work so he doesn’t see himself being able to enjoy it. He heads out to the above ground parking for his Range Rover, but does a double take when he reaches.

Standing next to the hood of a car and holding a coffee, Miso smiles a rare smile. “Hi.”

Yoongi halts before taking two slower steps, feeling a smile already creeping up his face. “Am I in a dream? What - what’s happening?” he asks, taking off his sunglasses. “You’re alone? And smiling? Who died?”

She gives him a look but her shoulders are still relaxed as she reaches behind her and reveals another cup of coffee which she brings to him.

“You said you had a break for two days in Seoul and miraculously, one of them coincides with one of the rarest, most auspicious days that only comes about once every year or so,” she tells him, handing him the cup. “Also known as the day my father is abroad and Seungkwan is at my mother’s disposal for the entire day, thereby leaving me to blissfully exist as their last priority.”

Yoongi takes the cup with a chuckle, no longer a stranger to her dry humour. “So you came to see me?”

She nods, and he thinks he sees a tinge of pink creeping up her cheeks. “The whole… asking my father for my passport thing didn’t quite work,” she admits, pushing her own sunglasses up her nose. “But your tour seems like it’s going well and… I don’t know. I guess for one day, you can tell me about it in person instead of over text at some ungodly hour of the night.”

Something expands in Yoongi’s chest but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This might be the most spontaneous he’s ever seen Miso and it feels too precious to disturb.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees, sipping the coffee and feeling like he’s finally waking up. “I do have some stuff to get done today, though,” he warns her. “I need to meet Jimin for a quick thing before picking up some stuff in Gangnam, then the studio -”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she asks, and he can’t tell if she’s joking.

Yoongi exhales, taking her coffee cup from her hand and placing both cups behind her on the hood of the car. Ignoring her mild frown, he tugs her gently by the hand and slowly wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. He waits until she hugs him back, a bit stiffly, before frowning suddenly.

“It’s okay that I’m doing this, right?” he asks, pulling away slightly. “I mean… you won’t get in trouble…?” he ventures, looking around suddenly as though expecting to be filmed.

“I don’t think my father has spies in the UN Village tracking me,” she says lightly, before stepping away.

Yoongi nods. “It’s good to see you, Kang Chanel,” he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek.

Her mouth curves upwards slightly, but then she rolls her eyes. “Don’t get sentimental on me, Min Suga.” She steps backwards and opens the drivers’ door to the car and slides inside. “You’ll be late for your errands,” she informs him, tucking her coffee into the holder next to the gear shift.

Missed you, too. He follows suit, strapping himself into his seat while she fiddles with the stereo, the morning already seeming brighter.

—

“You’re going to be late, you know?”

Namjoon nods and rolls them over, gently pressing her back into the bed as he captures his lips in hers. “You’re the one making me late, if that makes you feel better,” he murmurs against her jaw.

“Way to shift responsibility,” she responds, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing softly, feeling his arms slide down her waist.

“You came in here and took off all your clothes as I was about to leave,” he reminds her, lips moving down her collarbone, past the flimsy material of her top. “How is that my fault?”

“I came here to change my pants,” she retorts, pushing him back so they’ve switched positions. Kaya sits up, straddling him, and runs a hand through her long hair so it falls gracefully down one shoulder. “And only because you spilled water on them,” she adds with finality.

Namjoon grins up at her, eyes hazy with arousal, and her heart skips a beat. Maybe it’s the shirt he’s wearing this morning, maybe it’s the residual aftermath of their break-up from last year, but it’s harder than ever to stay apart. But she has an important date with herself today, and it’s a working day for her boyfriend.

“That’s right. I was picturing you taking off all your clothes,” he amends, sighing dramatically. “Guess I’ll be picturing it all day now.”

“You do that.” Kaya pats his chest and climbs off him, reaching for a pair of jeans and pulling them on. She feels Namjoon’s eyes on her and holds his gaze as she gets dressed, until he finally sits up.

“Can you just fucking move here or something?” he asks wistfully. “I really miss you.”

She nods in understanding, not knowing how to respond to that. “I miss you, too. Your apartment is, like, five times the size of mine.”

He clicks his tongue. “The bigger it is, the emptier it feels.” He frowns slightly. “By the way, your mouth tastes of watermelon,” he says curiously.

“Watermelon?”

“Yeah. Hang on - I can’t be sure. C’mere,” he mutters, pulling her by the hand and kissing her. “Yep, that’s watermelon. I can’t remember the last time I had something that healthy in my house,” he remarks, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s probably the supplement I’m taking,” she guesses, turning towards the mirror and finger-combing her hair. “It’s Vitamin D and iron and something else - I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean? Did a doctor tell you to take them?”

“Yeah, he thinks it’s because I’m not getting enough sleep,” she says absently. “This last stage of my dissertation is killer so he thinks it might be causing deficiencies of some kind in my system.” She shrugs. “But watermelon, huh?”

Namjoon looks like he’s about to say something but shakes his head at the last moment. “Yeah. It’s nice.” He wrinkles his nose. “Is that weird? Liking what you taste like?”

She bites her lip and meets his gaze in the mirror. “No, it’s endearing. I kind of miss what you taste like, too, when we’re not together.”

“Yeah?” His smile widens as he leans back on his hands, tossing his hair out of his eyes. “What do I taste like?”

Kaya hums, thinking. “Chocolate. Dark chocolate,” she clarifies. “Sometimes red wine, sometimes straight up whiskey,” she adds, noting how he chuckles self-consciously. “Sometimes that coconut water that you have stockpiled in your studio.”

“Wow.” He nods thoughtfully. “What do I taste like today?”

She locks her eyes with his in the mirror again. “Cigarettes.”

There’s a pause where she can see him being caught off guard by her response, before his shoulders fall slightly. “Have to admit, I didn’t see that coming.”

Kaya finally turns around and crosses her arms across her chest, feeling a little guilty about potentially ruining a nice moment. “Look, I don’t want to be that girlfriend - the one who tells you what to do and what not to do… so if you could just realise it on your own?” she ventures, raising her shoulders.

“It’s not like I’m doing it regularly,” is all he says, but she can sense his feeling of being caught.

“Yeah, I know, which is why I don’t really bring it up. But I also haven’t ever tasted it on you at ten in the morning,” she points out. “Do I need to be worried?”

She waits for the answer to be an immediate no, but when Namjoon sighs and hesitates, her heart sinks a little in disappointment. “I don’t think so,” he says a little later. “Just… with the album and everything, things have been a little stressful. I know you know what that’s like.”

She scoffs. “Weed is nowhere near as bad as pure tobacco. And I’m definitely not smoking up first thing in the morning.”

“Look, I’ve stopped before and I can stop again. I’ll have to - it’s not like I can keep it going in the military.”

There’s a pause. “Fine. Prove it,” she says. “Go the rest of the day without a single cigarette, and I’ll probably believe you.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’m being a buzzkill but unfortunately for you, I love you and I’d rather not see you die an early death.”

His jaw hardens slightly. Then he shrugs. “Fine. I won’t smoke the rest of the day if you don’t stay away from work for the rest of the day.”

“What?” She scoffs again. “How is that the same thing?”

“Overworking won’t kill you the way smoking will, but it can’t be good. Kaya, you’re supposed to be on vacation,” he reminds her. “You’ve been here four days and you’ve worked during all of them. Last night, you were up later than I was. You’re on medication because of it.”

“They’re supplements,” she corrects him, feeling distinctly called out. “And… this isn’t about me.”

“You can be worried about my health but I can’t be worried about yours?” He stands up, his height making her heart stutter again. “I think it’s a fair bet, no?”

Kaya narrows her eyes at him. “Fine. I won’t work. That’s easy.”

“That includes checking your emails.”

She feels her face fall slightly. “That’s… fine,” she repeats, although less confidently this time. “I’ll be able to tell if you smoke. The smell lingers,” she informs him.

“I’m aware. And checking your email and visiting your college intranet leaves timestamps.”

“Deal.” She sticks out a hand which he takes, shaking it before tugging her towards him. Her stomach flips. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says, grabbing her around the waist and tossing her on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. “Just kissing on it.”

—

Chaeyoung checks her reflection in the mirror, checks her small overnight suitcase and checks her phone, before stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her. She can hear Sooah’s voice in the living room and with some trepidation, she heads over to her and Jimin lounging on the sofa.

“It’s just ridiculous,” Sooah is saying, slamming her laptop shut and tossing it to the side. “Every day is a nightmare of indecisiveness and I have to waste my time executing every idea and negotiating with vendors, just when she changes her mind because of a Pinterest post.”

“Her own management has to be pretty pissed, too,” remakes Jimin, lying down by her side and scrolling through his phone. “Oi - what if she goes so overboard that they just has, like, a breakdown? And the whole thing has to be cancelled?”

“Don’t even say that,” she warns him when she catches sight of Chaeyoung. “After all this effort if we actually lose this client, I can probably kiss my job goodbye. Hey,” she says to Chaeyoung with a sigh. “Sorry, was I too loud?”

“Not at all,” she answers, shaking her head as she approaches the couple. “Is everything okay?”

“No, but I’m not going to worry about it today,” decides Sooah. “I have the day off so I’m not thinking about it till Monday.” She frowns. “Why do you look so worried?”

“Do I?” When Sooah nods, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath and sits on the coffee table, opposite her and Jimin. “Actually… I could use your help. Both your help.”

“Oh?” Sooah raises her eyebrows as Jimin sits up as well next to her, dark hair tousled. “What’s up?”

“Well…” Chaeyoung takes another deep breath, running her hands down her thighs. “I need some… advice. About - okay, wait. Oppa, this stays between the three of us, right?”

Jimin’s eyes widen and he looks around, clearly not expecting to be called out. “I - yeah. Of course. Who would I tell?” He looks from Chaeyoung to Sooah. “Okay. Fine. Yes, of course this stays between us.”

“Okay, then.” She tries again. “I need advice,” she repeats. “Like… dating advice. As you know, Hoseok and I have been sort of dating for a few weeks now,” she begins, when Jimin whoops. When both girls simply frown at him in confusion, his grin vanishes.

“Oh. Sorry. It felt just a cheer-worthy moment. Sorry. Carry on.”

“Well, it’s been going… well. Surprisingly well. But it’s also… I don’t know, casual? Like, neither of us are talking about it in depth, about where we are, how serious we are - all that stuff.”

“So… why don’t you just ask him?” Sooah suggests. “Are you worried you’ll scare him?”

“Not exactly…” Chaeyoung struggles to articulate it. “I don’t think it’ll freak him out. I just can’t be the one to bring it up. I guess I just want to know where he is with all this, you know? Especially because we’re both going back to Gwangju today for the long weekend and my brother’s going to be there, too, which is sure to freak Hobi out and…” She lowers her eyes and sighs. “I don’t want him to start reconsidering this or something.”

Jimin shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. He talks about you a lot,” he adds earnestly.

“No, not reconsidering… you know, dating me,” she replies, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her face. “But… I just want to go there knowing where we are, hopefully without having to talk about it. How he feels or- or…” She trails off, feeling a bit exposed as she says it out loud.

“Chae… I’m afraid Hoseok is the only one that can actually tell you,” says Sooah slowly.

“Isn’t there any kind of way I can make him bring it up?” Chaeyoung presses. “You know about our past. I really don’t want to be the one all eager to have the conversation about us - I just can’t do it. Especially since we’ll have to spend the whole weekend pretending to be casual friends connected through my brother anyway.” Chaeyoung shakes her head. “Look, you two have known each other for decades, too,” she points out. “How did you know how you felt about each other when you started going out last year?”

Sooah and Jimin look similarly doubtful, but Jimin is the first to speak.

“Well… I always knew how I felt about Sooah,” he begins, shrugging in a matter-of-fact way as he glances at his girlfriend. “Maybe the intensity changed when we spent years apart and the rest of the time… I guess I was in denial,” he admits sheepishly, grinning when Sooah fondly punches his shoulder. “But Sooah was always the one, ever since we were fifteen. She’s Kim Sooah. She’s fun, she’s smart, she brightens up every room… and she’s only gotten hotter over the years,” he adds seriously.

Chaeyoung exhales, saying nothing as she turns to Sooah who’s gazing up at Jimin with a sparkle in her eye. “Unnie?”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t ever stay mad at him for longer than five minutes because he says things like that,” she says dryly, tucking a lock of hair deliberately behind her ear. “And… Jimin is the absolute sweetest guy I know. That’s been the case since we met in high school - he was cute and shy but he was already the best person I knew. He’s loyal and hardworking and, uh…” She reaches over and taps his bicep. “As millions of girls will second me, he is a total smokeshow.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jimin sighs. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling Sooah to him and wrapping his arms around her. “I love you, Kim Sooah,” he says, kissing the side of her head.

“I love you, too, Park Jimin,” she says into his shoulder. “We’re so lucky!” she exclaims, making him laugh.

Jimin hugs her tighter. “I know. I can’t even remember what we were fighting about,” he adds, making her laugh and nod.

Chaeyoung stares at them. “You weren’t fighting. You were helping me with my problem.”

“Right.” Jimin and Sooah separate, clearing their throats before the latter leans forward. “Chae. What exactly are you afraid of?”

“Acting like the thirteen year old me around him,” she answers instantly. “I’m not that person anymore and he’s not that person anymore. We’ve both grown up and I just want to know how he feels without actually asking him how he feels.” She places her hands on her lap, having said her piece. “So? Any words of advice? Because we’re leaving for Gwangju in, like… half an hour.”

The silence is deafening.

“Okay, thanks.” Chaeyoung nods and stands up, feeling like she might spiral when Sooah stops her.

“Look, I get it. I promise, we’ll think of something,” she assures her, squeezing her hand.

“Hey, maybe Yoongi hyung will have some ideas,” pipes up Jimin, reading something on his phone. “He’s coming over to drop a demo tape for me before he flies out again on Sunday.”

“No! God, Jimin oppa -” Chaeyoung clicks her tongue while Sooah slaps his shoulder. “This stays between us, remember?”

“Fine, fine,” he says quickly, backing away. “He’s almost here anyway.” He turns to peer out the window. “Wait - I think that’s his car.”

Miso pulls up outside the building and switches off the car. “Is this it?” she asks, looking up at the small structure with half a dozen floors, vines and leaves decorating a single side.

“Yeah,” mutters Yoongi, unstrapping the seatbelt. “I don’t know if everyone’s home but Jimin’s definitely here so Sooah must be, too. Come on,” he says, moving to open his door.

“Oh, yeah - no.” Miso shrinks back into her seat. “If you just need to go up for a second, I’ll wait down here.”

Yoongi frowns. “What? Like a chauffeur? Miso - this is Jimin. You know Jimin.”

“Yes, but it’s not like we’re friends. And I don’t know his girlfriend either.” She shakes her head with finality and sits back in her seat. “I’ll wait here.”

He stares at her for a few seconds before speaking again. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to step out of your comfort zone once in a while. What exactly are you afraid of with Jimin?”

Miso bites her lip, aware that there’s no way to explain just how terrible she is with people, but also aware that Yoongi of all people should know this. The last thing she wants to do today is bicker with him, however, so she sighs and nods.

“Fine. Let’s go.” She unstraps herself from the seat and catches Yoongi’s pleasantly surprised expression. “Don’t get excited. You’re just dropping off a tape, right? So, like… a couple of minutes, tops?”

“Absolutely.”

They reach the apartment and Yoongi rings the doorbell while Miso hangs back slightly, feeling anxious. When the door opens, it’s done by a girl Miso has never seen before: petite with long hair and doe eyes, so slender that she looks like a gust of wind might blow her away.

“Hey, Yoongi hyung! See, I was right,” comes a voice from inside the house that Miso recognises as Park Jimin’s, smug and musical all at once. She follows Yoongi inside, noting the double take Jimin does when he spots her.

“Uh - hi, noona,” he says, sounding a bit uncertain but immediately introducing her to the two girls that she presumes are the actual residents of the apartment. She gives them an awkward wave in response, continuing to stay out of the way as a wave of low chatter ensues, easy and familiar as though they’ve all known each other forever.

“Oh, thanks.” Jimin sighs when Yoongi hands him a small, sleek silver pendrive the size of a grape.

“Just remember to add backing vocals to it or it’ll sound way too flat,” says Yoongi, picking up his bag and looking ready to leave. Miso exhales in relief and starts to move towards the door when Jimin stops them.

“Wait, this doesn’t have backing vocals?” His eyes widen dramatically. “I thought Hobi hyung already recorded them!”

“Didn’t have the time,” says Yoongi, shrugging. “Just get together with him in the studio tomorrow and ask him to ad lib it. I’ll be gone but you can ask Miso and Donghyuk for help,” he adds, evidently not realising how Miso’s heart almost jumps out of her chest at hearing her name. “She composed most of it anyway.”

He looks automatically at Miso and she nods slowly, her eyes flickering between Yoongi and Jimin. “Um, yeah. Sure. Come to the studio when - whenever.”

“Uh, thanks, noona, but that’s not the problem. Hobi hyung won’t be there,” says Jimin. “He’s leaving for Gwangju today.”

Yoongi swears under his breath. “Oh, come on. I don’t think I’ll be able to squeeze it in today,” he mutters, checking his phone.

“He’s on his way here right now.” The petite girl with the headband pipes up. “If that’ll help.”

Jimin and Yoongi exchange looks while Miso feels a looming dread.

“I have a portable mic and my laptop,” volunteers Yoongi, shrugging. “Quality won’t be as good but it should work for now, until he’s back and you can do it at the studio.” He turns to Miso, as though to see what she thinks, but the semi-smile fades, presumably at her expression.

Saved by the bell, she thinks murderously as the girl in the headband - Chaeyoung, Miso remembers suddenly - skips over to open the door again, this time to see Hoseok standing in the doorway.

“Hey, y - oh, hey,” he stutters, his tone changing when he takes in the half a dozen people in the living room. “Um -” His eyes fall to Chaeyoung, who bites her lip and lets him in as their eyes dart around awkwardly for a moment before he finally presses a quick kiss to the top of her head.

Chaeyoung is blushing as she closes the door and Hoseok troops in, catching sight of Miso. “Oh, wow! Hey, noona,” he says, high-fiving her as though she’s an old friend he hasn’t seen in ages. It occurs to Miso suddenly that the last time she saw Hoseok, she was drenched with blood running down her face, and her greeting is therefore a bit subdued.

“Soooo, what’s going on?” he asks, looking around. “Is there some party happening at -” He checks his watch “- eleven fifteen in the morning that I’m not aware of?”

“We need you to record something for us,” informs Yoongi as Jimin reaches over and grabs Hoseok by the arm, steering him over to one of the bedrooms.

“Now? But we have to -”

“It won’t take long,” interrupts Jimin, before peering over his shoulder at the rest of them. “You ladies are okay to wait for a little bit, right?”

Chaeyoung and Sooah shrug and mumble unintelligibly, while Miso glares at Yoongi.

“Comfort zone,” he reminds her in a low voice, turning around and walking backwards, “noona.”

“Bite me, Min Suga,” she hisses, wanting to throw something as he flashes an amused grin at her before disappearing into the room with his group members.

Miso tears her eyes away from the door with difficulty to see the two other girls looking back at her. “Um,” she begins, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Maybe I should… leave,” she ventures.

“Oh.” Sooah frowns curiously, perching on the arm of the sofa while Chaeyoung sifts through the fruit bowl on their small dining table. The entire living room is roughly the size of Miso’s bathroom, and the photo frames and trinkets, the mismatched pots with leafy plants interspersed across the room and the soft throw across the back of the couch would give her mother a heart attack. Part of her wants to touch the throw, for it looks incredibly soft.

“Didn’t you come with Yoongi? You can wait with us, if you want.” She smiles a confident, easy smile. “We won’t bite.”

She offers so nonchalantly that Miso almost finds herself considering it. “I just - I don’t want to intrude,” she says, “especially if you have plans or -”

“Damn it, not this again!” Sooah exclaims suddenly, her eyes on her phone. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, unnie. It’s just this - this crazy client is ruining my day off.”

Miso raises her eyebrows while Chaeyoung snorts. “You sound like you could use a drink.”

“You know what? I really could.” She strides into the kitchen and Miso can hear the sound of a cabinet creaking open.

“Wait, I was joking - Sooah, it’s not even noon.”

“So? It’s noon somewhere,” she calls from inside the kitchen. “And as I recall, don’t you have to spend the next two days around your family pretending like you and Hoseok aren’t an item?”

“That’s right. Grab me a glass, too?”

“You got it. Miso unnie, you’re drinking, too, right?”

Miso, who had been ready to take this as her chance to leave, freezes. “Um -” She sighs quietly. “I have to drive,” she says after a moment.

Sooah pops her head out of the kitchen. “Can’t Yoongi drive?” she asks, just as muffled music begins playing from inside one of the bedrooms.

“Right,” mutters Miso through gritted teeth. “Yoongi.” His slightly mocking refrain of comfort zone, noona comes back to her; she doesn’t want to prove him right but at the same time, she remembers how his pensive face had broken into a smile at the sight of her this morning. It’s infuriating, but almost as though she can’t help it, Miso finds herself nodding.

She traipses into the kitchen to see Sooah retrieving wine glasses one by one from a cabinet while Chaeyoung cuts up an apple into smaller pieces. A bottle of white wine sits on the counter; Miso picks it up, not recognising the name, and turns it over. Automatically, her gaze drops to the price sticker, which explains why she’s never heard of this wine. She places it back carefully on the counter, musing wryly at her father’s reaction if he were ever offered a drink at this price point.

The kitchen is small and cluttered, but it’s the sight of two young women bustling around inside it that’s truly remarkable to Miso. It’s a far cry from her parents’ personal chef that moves robotically around their sleek modern kitchen that makes her dread every mealtime.

“So, unnie, you’re a record producer, too?” Sooah asks as she hands her a glass.

“Um, yes. At Hybe. That’s how I know those guys,” she adds, pointing vaguely towards the bedrooms.

“Wow, that’s so cool,” says Chaeyoung, sounding rather like she means it. “Female producers are so rare.”

“It’s badass,” agrees Sooah, popping open the bottle and pouring some into her own glass.

Miso doesn’t quite know how to respond, for it’s quite possibly the first time anyone has ever referred to her as cool, let alone badass. When Sooah brings the bottle to her glass and raises her eyebrows questioningly, Miso simply nods, feeling unexpectedly gratified, and takes a sip. She’s pleasantly surprised to discover that the wine is delicious.

Sooah agrees apparently, taking a much larger sip and sighing as she clutches the glass to her chest. “I’m going to get fired. All because this headcase of an actress can’t make up her damn mind.”

Chaeyoung catches Miso’s eye and tilts her head. “She works in event planning. Right now she’s got this client who’s… what can I say?” she asks Sooah. “Making her life hell.”

“Hell,” repeats Sooah. “But, no, that’s not even half of it. So, okay, the way this client actually got signed was through her cousin who’s friends with our CEO…”

Sooah takes them through the entire story of her hellish client, a minor actress who she says she can’t name due to an NDA, but drops enough hints that Chaeyoung at least seems to know who she’s talking about. Miso nods along at every pause, taking cues from Chaeyoung as to when to chuckle or make sympathetic noises. She wonders, though, if these girls really are being terribly polite for the sake of their boyfriends in letting her stay here and drink their wine.

They are much younger than her - that much Miso can tell instantly, and she’s sure they can as well - but there’s a level of ease with which they’ve welcomed a new person into their home that Miso doesn’t even feel she can relate to. She takes a piece of apple when Chaeyoung offers her the bowl; she wonders if this is a regular occurrence for them, preparing their own snacks, cleaning their own kitchen, having their friends come and go without care.

Somewhere along the way during the story, they end up sitting on the kitchen floor and facing each other, cradling their glasses while the bottle sits in the middle of their little circle.

“- tries way too hard. But maybe I’m wrong. Unnie, what do you think?”

It takes Miso a moment to realise she’s lost track of Sooah’s story. “Um… I think…” Shit.

“Chae doesn’t agree with me,” adds Sooah, pointing at her roommate who shrugs matter-of-factly. “She thinks the client’s management makes most of these decisions but she’s getting all the flack for it because she’s a public figure. But she’s the one paying her management,” she says, giving Chaeyoung a pointed look.

“But don’t you think artists could be getting manipulated by their management, too?” Chaeyoung presses, turning to Miso. “Hobi told me it happens a lot.”

“Oh. Uh -” Miso swallows. Sooah seems like the kind of person who’s had friends and admirers her whole life, while Chaeyoung is more insightful than Miso can remember being at that age (or any age). Therefore, it’s somewhat strange how they’re both looking expectantly at Miso, as though genuinely wanting her opinion on this topic.

“Well, it’s true,” she begins slowly, her eyes fixed somewhere on the floor between both the girls. “Sometimes decisions taken by an artist’s team can reflect badly on the artist. But that’s why we limit the access that managers get to the studio, so that they have some freedom to express themselves honestly. Sometimes they’re a whole different person.”

Both the girls nod seriously.

“But sometimes they’re just a bitch.”

There’s a pause before Sooah snorts and Chaeyoung laughs, and they begin debating which one this mysterious client is more likely to be. Miso listens, a strange sort of lightness spreading through her chest at this unexpected approval. She takes another sip of the delicious wine, which only seems to have gotten sweeter.

“So, unnie,” begins Sooah after a little while, “how long have you and Yoongi been dating?”

Miso chokes. “Oh, we’re not - we’re not dating. God, no.” As she says it, a series of images flash through her mind in no particular order: their hands meeting in a pitch black elevator, a coat room and a sudden kiss, sitting fully clothed under a running shower, falling asleep in the comfort of his arms. “I mean… we’re colleagues. And friends, I guess. Kind of.”

“Oh. Sorry. It seemed like you two were - anyway, I shouldn’t have assumed.” Sooah taps her roommate’s knee. “Little Chaeyoung here is having relationship troubles and I thought we could help -”

“Unnie, shh!” Chaeyoung whispers, looking terrified as she whips around in the direction of the bedrooms.

“Oh, don’t worry,” says Miso. “As long as you can still hear that clicking sound, it means the record is playing and they’re still working.”

They all fall silent, collectively listening for the sound. After a few moments, Chaeyoung nods, looking relieved as the clicking is replaced once again by louder music.

“Okay,” she sighs heavily. “That’s a relief. And I’m not having relationship troubles,” she disagrees, glaring at Sooah. “I’m just… having trouble.”

“Yes, and we are here to help,” replies Sooah reassuringly, helping herself to another glass of wine. “But I’m not even sure you know fully what you’re having trouble with.”

“Yes, I do! I told you, I -” She pauses abruptly to turn again and make sure they’re alone. “I want to know where we are as a couple,” she says clearly, in a low voice. “I want to have the conversation without, you know, actually having the conversation.”

“But what’s the outcome you’re looking for? Do you want to attach a label to the relationship, do you want to know how serious he is about this - everything depends on that.”

“I just want to know how he feels!” Chaeyoung exclaims, clearly getting frustrated now. “But I want him to initiate it - like, I don’t want to direct the conversation at all. I mean - look, he’ll tell me if I ask him. But we’re just - we’re casual right now. I can’t be the one to ask. You know that,” she says with finality. “I just can’t.”

There’s a pause for several seconds after which Sooah takes a deep breath and shrugs. “Okay, then. It has to be some sort of gesture. Hey, maybe you can get someone else to get him talking. I can ask Jimin if you’re willing to -”

“No!” Chaeyoung shudders. “Absolutely not. Jimin is very sweet but he’s… I mean, he’s not the most…”

“He’s got a huge mouth, I agree.” Sooah bites her lip. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. I don’t know - do you think we’re missing something, unnie?”

Chaeyoung follows Sooah’s gaze and once again, Miso finds two sets of eyes looking at her earnestly, waiting for her advice. She frowns in mild internal panic; this entire line of conversation is so far away from anything she’s familiar with that she can’t imagine contributing anything meaningful to this debate.

Still, there’s something about the way both girls have turned to her that makes her feel responsible for providing the right guidance, despite how out of her depth she is.

“Well,” she says finally, taking a sip of wine (delicious, fruity, summery) before leaning back against the cabinet and bringing her knees to her chest. “Sometimes, when we have an artist or a group that isn’t committing to dates or being really closed off about their future plans, we tend to bring in another artist to the discussion, just to observe their reaction.” She gives them a small shrug. “It gives us a reasonable indication as to where they are.”

Sooah scoffs quietly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Chaeyoung shakes her head, eyes wide. “What?”

Sooah pats Miso’s knee casually. “You’re a genius. Chae - I mean, this is going to be kind of an unfeminist suggestion, but if you want to know how he feels, a great way is to make him jealous,” she suggests, sipping her wine conspiratorially.

“Huh. That could work. How, though?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Fake a run-in with an ex, fangirl over a singer he’s worked with - the world is your oyster,” she answers breezily, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Trust me, it’ll totally work. Don’t go overboard to the point where he’ll sulk the rest of the night but a little jealousy - foolproof for a reaction.”

“Okay. Oh, my God, I can’t believe I finally have an answer to this,” says Chaeyoung, laughing weakly. “I swear, I was up half the night wondering how to talk about this, you know -”

“Without actually talking about it,” all three girls say it in unison. Miso doesn’t realise she’s laughing with them until Chaeyoung brings her glass to the middle of the circle and all them clink their drinks together. They hear the bedroom door open and the sound of footsteps and low chatter until Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi reach the kitchen.

“Alright, we’re done here,” says Hoseok, gently tapping Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah,” she says, standing up and placing her empty glass in the sink. Sooah stands up as well, handing her glass to Jimin who downs the remaining drink in one go. Miso stands as well, meeting Yoongi’s meaningful gaze. When he raises his eyebrows, she rolls her eyes and silently tells him to shut it.

They don’t talk about it until they’re back in the car and halfway through the rest of his errands. Miso can tell he wants to bring it up but he’s unsure, and she isn’t sure she’s fully processed it herself. About an hour and a half later, they stop at a roadside ramen place on a highway outside the city on their way back from Incheon. Out of habit, Miso parks some ways away from the stall and they walk the rest of the way.

“I got it,” says Yoongi, placing a couple of bills on the counter as she picks up two packs of DIY ramen. Miso says nothing, squinting mildly at him until he turns to her and they fill their bowls with hot water before walking back towards her car.

“It’s a nice day,” he remarks after a while, just as they reach. They take off their jackets and sit on two tree stumps facing each other before digging in with their disposable chopsticks.

“It is,” she agrees through a mouthful of ramen. The light afternoon breeze feels nice on her arms and through her loose sleeveless top after the air conditioning of the car. She looks around, reasonably pleased with her choice of rest stop. They’re away from the bustle of the city, by a desolate road with trees and vegetation on either side. There’s no pollution, no traffic and no people.

“You’re a cheap date, Kang Miso.”

She chuckles. “Is that what this is?”

“At the risk of being presumptuous, I’d say so.”

Ignoring the dull thumping of her heart, she tosses her hair off her shoulders and looks up at him. “So, this is what a date with Min Yoongi looks like?” She reaches for her can of Diet Coke from where it’s placed on the dry grass, next to the packets of seasoning and bottles of water. “The tabloids need to know, in case it is.”

“This is not what a date with Min Yoongi looks like,” he clarifies. “But like I said, you’re a cheap date. Which is a hell of an irony,” he adds dryly.

“I can surprise you.”

“Yes, you can. I think the sight of you on Sooah and Chaeyoung’s kitchen floor definitely convinced me of that.” He makes a gesture with his hand when she groans, as if to indicate that he hasn’t forgotten. “You were smiling when I walked in. You might’ve been - dare I say it - having fun.”

“It was okay,” she says nonchalantly. “I mean, they were nice. But. You know.” She shrugs, keeping her eyes on the last of her ramen before scooping it up with her chopsticks. “Not really my type.”

“That’s probably true,” he agrees. “They’ve got that nice, wholesome thing going on, like Hoseok and Jimin. But it didn’t kill you,” he says after a moment.

Miso sighs, knowing she can’t skirt around it for much longer. “No, it didn’t. In fact… it was kind of nice.” She presses her lips together. “I dunno, can I say something kind of pathetic?”

“Go for it.”

She sucks in air through her teeth, her tongue hot from the spicy food. “It was kind of what I imagine it’s like to - to have friends. Like in the movies?” She registers his face changing momentarily and quickly continues. “But anyway. I think that was all the boy talk I could handle.”

“Oh, boy talk? Do tell.”

She chuckles. “Unfortunately, what happens in the little girly circle stays in the girly circle.”

Yoongi grins. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. You’re not that bad to hang out with.”

“Stop, I’m swooning.”

He gives her a look. “I’m serious.” He reaches for her empty bowl and starts packing up their trash. “I know you’ve been surrounded by some real douches in your life but that doesn’t mean you are one. You just need to put in a little effort.”

She squints and stands up. “Where to next? Did you say you need to be at Hybe by five?”

Yoongi observes her for a moment but thankfully lets it go. “Yeah. I think we have some time for a smoke, though?”

Miso nods, heading to the car and retrieving a pack from the glove compartment. She shuts the door behind her and tosses the pack to Yoongi, who takes out two cigarettes and lights them one by one. She follows him a few feet into the woods so they’re away from the road.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, taking one from him. “Nothing like fresh air, huh?”

Yoongi takes a long, deep drag in response and closes his eyes. “I get why we can’t smoke on tour but… man, I wish we could.”

“Doesn’t time apart make the heart grow fonder?” she asks. “Every puff of nicotine must be better than you imagined.”

Yoongi nods, flicking ash with his thumb. “I did imagine it quite a bit.” He meets her eyes. “It’s really hard to stay away, though.”

Miso clenches her jaw in an effort not to smile and doesn’t reply, smoking in silence. Yoongi finishes his cigarette first, savouring it until it’s nothing but a stub.

“Are you sure you won’t have paparazzi following you?” Miso asks.

“Here?” He takes a couple of steps towards her, slow and casual. “In the middle of nowhere? Definitely not.”

She nods, less successful in hiding the smile that flickers across her face this time. She juts her chin towards the stub between his fingers. “If you burn my clothes, I will kill you, Min Suga.”

“Duly noted.” Holding her gaze, he drops the stub and steps on it before closing the gap between them and kissing her. It’s hungry and longing, his hands cradling her face; Miso stumbles slightly before taking a few steps backwards until her back hits a tree.

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and reaching up on the tips of her toes. His cologne smells delicious, almost as if it’s coursing through her veins and waking her up after months of sleep.

“You know,” he murmurs, lips moving down her jaw, “if you burn my hair, Hybe will probably sue you.”

Snickering, she drops her own cigarette on the ground and puts it out with her shoe before pulling him back to her. She’d chosen this place for a reason; unlike any other place in the city, a random ramen stall and surrounding woods would be the one place where his celebrity and her situation wouldn’t matter. For once, they would be alone.

Yoongi’s hands slide up her waist, lifting up the corners of her top. She can feel his bulge hardening against her hip and pulls him closer by his belt loops. She snakes one hand down to palm him, enjoying the way he gasps against her lips. He hardens against her hand with every touch, until she swiftly undoes the button of his trousers and unzips it before slipping her hand into his boxers.

The moment she touches him, Yoongi pulls away and grabs her wrist. “Whoa. Are you serious?”

Miso raises her eyebrows and retrieves her hand, hooking her fingers on the elastic of his boxers. “Do you want me to stop?”

“It - it’s not that. It’s just…” He looks around. “Here?”

She holds his gaze. “I’ll stop if you want me to… but if the location is your only issue, then -” She shrugs deliberately. “- you may want to step out of your comfort zone, Min Suga.”

Yoongi bites his lip and against her hand, she can feel him strain against his boxers. “You’ll be the death of me, you know that?” he murmurs, capturing her lips in his once again.

Taking it as his consent, she slips her hand into his boxers again, finding him hard and erect. She strokes him as they kiss and runs her thumb against the head of his cock, her back against the tree and his long hair brushing her cheekbone.

“Fuck,” he gasps after a few minutes, pulling away and dropping his head on her shoulder. Miso squeezes his shoulder before kneeling on the wild grass and tugging his boxers down slightly, just enough so she can take him in her mouth.

It’s quiet and intimate, in the privacy of the wilderness and mutual trust. Yoongi’s hand is gentle on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her short hair while the other is pressed against the tree for support. His gasps are soft, voice quiet as he swears under his breath until he breathes her name, and climaxes in her mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair once his trousers are back in place. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes are hazy as he meets hers. “I… fuck, you’re amazing,” he murmurs, bending his head to kiss her again.

Miso kisses him back, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “I figured if we want to go any further, this probably isn’t the best place for it.”

He chuckles, still looking a little winded. “You read my mind. Come over to the studio later?” He takes a step closer to her, eyes searching hers, almost like he’s pleading. “Don’t get me wrong, but… I don’t think we’re nearly finished here.”

That makes her laugh. “Duly noted,” she says, reaching for his crotch again. She watches as he raises his eyebrows in surprise but says nothing, holding his breath while her hand roams his hips until it stops over his pocket. She reaches in to retrieve the pack of cigarettes. “For the road,” she says nonchalantly.

They share a cigarette this time. Miso looks over at the horizon as they walk back to the car, trying not to think about how low in the sky the sun is already. It’s only late afternoon, but the day is coming to an end. Standing by the car, she lets Yoongi have the rest of the cigarette.

“What’s wrong?”

Miso shakes her head, not turning around. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure? You have that look on your face.”

“That’s just my face.”

“Miso.” He waits until she turns around, leaning back against the side of the car. “Did I do something? Back there? Did I say -”

“No, Yoongi.” She exhales, swallowing. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. But don’t say that’s your face,” he tells her, gathering all their trash in a polythene bag and knotting the ties. “If you recall, I saw your face today. Your real face - the one you have when you’re having fun.”

Miso rolls her eyes, although unsure why. “Not this again. Yeah, it was nice while it lasted but I don’t really see myself hanging out with them again. Believe me, they don’t want that either.”

Yoongi scoffs. “That’s just not true. You have this image of yourself that’s all closed off and difficult to be around, but you’re not like that at all.”

“Really? You think I’m all sunshine and daisies like Chaeyoung and Sooah?”

“No, not quite,” he admits, sounding far calmer than she is, which annoys her more. “But you aren’t nearly as antisocial as you make yourself out to be. If anything -“ He stops abruptly, apparently deciding not to say anymore.

Miso raises her eyebrows. “Well, don’t stop now. You sound like you’re on a roll.”

He gives her a look, as though asking her not to be angry. “If anything, I think you use it as an excuse to not make an effort.”

She nods and puts her sunglasses back on. “Got it. I think we should go now.” She turns to open the driver’s door but Yoongi grabs her forearm.

“Hey, I don’t want to fight,” he says softly. “I don’t mean to make you mad or - or call you out or anything. But you’re capable of building friendships,” he says, and even through the dark glass, she can feel his eyes piercing hers. “Or at least getting along with people. If you could let go of this facade you keep up and just let yourself be the person that I see…” He squeezes her hand before letting it go. “I think you’d be surprised what a little bit of effort can do.”

For a moment, Miso isn’t sure whether to scoff or cry. Her shoulders fall, but her tone is less combative when she speaks again.

“You’re going to be late,” she mutters, touching his shoulder lightly and hoping he’ll take the hint and end this conversation here. Thankfully he nods and steps away before heading to the other side of the car. They duck in and buckle their seatbelts and they’re on their way without another word.

“Just to be clear, though,” he asks after a couple of minutes. “Should I be calling you noona?”

“Not unless you want me to stab you in your sleep.”

“Got it.”

—

There’s nothing quite like home. These words were said by her mother, in laughter and mirth, in one of Chaeyoung’s favourite home videos of her childhood. Now, grown up and living by herself in the capital, she finally gets it.

Everyone seems to, in fact. Her brother is at ease on their parents’ sofa, Hoseok seemingly even more so, and Hayoung, her brother’s girlfriend and their classmate from high school, seems like a natural part of their small group of four.

The family dinner is over and it’s just them in the living room, laughing and chatting about their lives and old stories. She and Hoseok are sitting on opposite sides of the room, careful to be as nonchalant as possible. She glances at him to find him already looking at her; the moment their eyes meet, his mouth starts to curve upwards and she looks away immediately. Part of her wants to tell him to cut it out, but the other part, the part that still secretly recalls the teenage Chaeyoung that lived in this house, lets it happen.

Sooah [20:10]

Girl! Did you do it yet?

Chaeyoung bites her lip, keeping her phone screen tilted away from Hayoung who’s sitting next to her. It was bad enough that when they’d reached, her father had immediately asked, in front of everyone, the embarrassing question of Did you thank Hoseok oppa for giving you a ride? It had taken every bit of her resolve to look Hoseok in the eye, while he tried with all his energy to keep a straight face, and respond with thank you, oppa in the most innocent way possible.

The way his face had gone red was enough for Chaeyoung, but she’d opted to drop him a text right after as well, asking if there was anything she could do to really thank him. It’s been ten minutes and you’re killing me, caterpillar, was what he’d replied with, giving her a satisfaction she hadn’t expected.

Now, he and Chanyeol are guffawing as they try to remember the words to some song their class’s football team had penned to insult a rival school’s, which Chaeyoung takes as an opportunity to respond to Sooah.

Chaeyoung [20:12] Not yet. I’m kinda rethinking it if I’m being honest. We’re not even technically in a relationship yet. Do we even need to have this conversation?

Sooah [20:13] That’s why you’re not having the conversation. You’re just trying to get a reaction out of him that’ll do the work for you.

Right. Chaeyoung locks her phone and places it next to her. The trick is to maneuver the conversation correctly, she decides. She tries to pay attention to what they’re talking about, wondering if she can find an in.

“- he was the guy who got dropped from the team because the goalie didn’t like him - no wait, you’re right, it wasn’t him.”

“Yeah, that guy was a senior. I remember because he was dating that girl in our coaching class - what was her name?” Chanyeol frowns, clicking his tongue. “The one who’s working at Google now.”

“Haneul,” says Haeyoung, and both guys chorus in agreement. “She was really pretty - and she had a brother, too, if I remember correctly.”

Chaeyoung sits up straighter. Jackpot. “Yeah, his name was Jihoon,” she adds casually. “He was a couple of years above me - I think he joined a band. We ran into him in Seoul, remember, oppa?” she asks Chanyeol.

“Oh, yeah,” he says slowly, before frowning. “Wait, wasn’t he the guy who had a thing for you when you were in college or something?”

“M-hm,” she answers, taking care to only observe Hoseok out of the corner of her eye. “He asked me out a couple of times but it didn’t really go anywhere.”

“Wait, I remember him,” pipes in Hayoung. “Yeah - didn’t his band perform at that festival in Busan last year? It was all over the school Instagram page.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Hoseok exclaims, nodding. “I went with Namjoon - they did that cover of Sweet Child of Mine. It sounded even better in person,” he tells them.

Chanyeol and Hayoung nod, vaguely impressed, while Chaeyoung frowns. “Yeah, well - I actually ran into him again, just a few weeks ago. Right after that big storm,” she adds pointedly, this time glancing at Hoseok for a few seconds as well. “His band is performing again and he asked if I’d like to go watch him.”

“Oh, you definitely should,” says Hoseok emphatically, to her surprise. “Especially if it’s a place with good acoustics because the instrumentals were fantastic.”

“Okay,” says Chaeyoung, after a pause. “We ended up chatting for a while actually. He said if I want, I can go backstage as well. Apparently the have an after party with loads of booze.”

Chanyeol clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Loads of booze with a bunch of older musician types? That sounds like the exact kind of situation I don’t want you in.”

Chaeyoung starts to scoff, but Hoseok speaks up instead. “Hey! I’m one of those musician types!”

“You’re an idol, dude. You’re not one of those musician types,” he clarifies. “I don’t see a ton of drugs or single girls being invited backstage to your concerts. No offense.”

“None taken - I think.” Hoseok chucks a piece of popcorn at Chanyeol. “But I won’t tolerate this slander.”

“Exactly - Chan, you have to let her live,” adds Haeyoung, both of them clearly enjoying ganging up on her brother, who groans. “This is the age to have fun experiences like that. Chase, just make sure enough people know where you are. I mean, this is where it comes in handy to have a family friend in the entertainment business,” she adds wisely, pointing exaggeratedly at Hoseok.

“Precisely. Thank you, Hayoung,” says Hoseok loudly. “Chae - I will need all your information before we send you to this party from Chanyeol’s nightmares.” Both he and Hayoung laugh at Chanyeol’s stony expression while Chaeyoung stays silent, wondering where the hell she’s going wrong and wanting to throttle Sooah.

“Just make sure you take pictures, too,” continues Hayoung, “although if he still has a crush on you, you could wear anything and it won’t matter.”

Hoseok laughs even harder, clapping his hands at Chanyeol’s horrified groan. “Adding onto Chanyeol’s worst nightmare! Maybe there will be cocaine, too - I mean, don’t do any, of course,” he adds quickly to Chaeyoung, as though advising her to wear a seatbelt. “But definitely take pictures.”

Chaeyoung grits her teeth. Don’t go overboard, Sooah had said confidently, but that’s seeming like a non-starter at this point. “I will,” she says, now no longer bothering to be subtle about checking for Hoseok’s reaction. “Although he did seem like he just wanted me to go. Turns out he just broke up with his girlfriend.”

Next to her, she can sense Hayoung frowning at her curiously, just enough to give Chaeyoung the validation that she’s saying the right thing to raise eyebrows - just not the right eyebrows.

Meanwhile, Chanyeol grimaces while Hoseok nods sympathetically. “Poor guy,” he remarks. “A concert could be good to make him feel better, though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will,” mutters Chaeyoung, standing up and trying not to storm out of the room too obviously. She doubts any of them will care that she’s gone. It’ll leave them to their reminiscence about high school until Chanyeol and Hayoung retreat to his room and Hoseok - well, it doesn’t really seem as though Hoseok cares about anything at all.

She reaches her old bedroom and slams the door shut behind her, refusing to cry over Jung Hoseok in this room ten years later. Her real beef, she decides, is with Sooah; sitting briskly at the foot of her bed, she swipes up her phone screen with force to bring up their chat, when there’s a knock on the door. She ignores it, but it repeats again.

“Go away,” she calls. “I’m naked.”

“Uh…” The voice deliberately lowers. “Is that supposed to keep me away?”

Rolling her eyes, Chaeyoung stomps over to her door and unlocks it, turning away before it can even fully open. From outside, she can hear Chanyeol and Hayoung saying goodnight.

“Yeah, I’ll just get my charger - probably in Chae’s bag!” Hoseok says loudly. “See you guys in the morning!” There are a few more words exchanged before she hears the bedroom door close and assumes the coast is finally clear.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is completely different, gentle and tender - and uncertain. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Chae. Come on, you can tell me,” he presses, reaching for her arm which she dodges. “Wait - are you mad at me?”

“Oh, no,” she says, finally turning around and shrugging. “Nothing to be mad at. Obviously you’re okay with me going to a random party with musician types and doing a ton of drugs - why would I be mad?”

“Okay, I specifically said not to do any drugs,” he clarifies. “But… wait, is that why you’re mad? Aren’t you the one who hates it when me or Chan try to tell you what to do?”

This is unfortunately true, but she doesn’t opt to respond to this. “So - just so I’m clear,” she says instead, crossing her arms across her chest, “you’re totally okay with me going to this party?”

“I mean… yeah, I guess. Just don’t drink too much and keep your phone on,” he says, almost as though he’s guessing the correct answer. “And don’t do any -”

“Oh, God, enough about the drugs!” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and scoffing when he immediately shushes at her to lower her voice. “Do you really not care that a guy who’s older than me - a single guy - who’s in a band and had a crush on me is inviting me backstage to a party? Seriously?”

“Of course I care! I want you to be safe - that’s why I said that thing about keeping your phone on and - and not drinking!”

“That’s all you care about?” she cries incredulously. “What - what is it? Is it something about being back here that makes you just - just not care at all about anything other than annoying my brother? You aren’t the slightest bit jealous that a single hot guy who might very well be hitting on me is inviting me to a party without you?”

Hoseok’s forehead clears slightly, but he still looks confused. “You - you’re mad because I’m not jealous?” When she simply shakes her head and turns away in answer, his tone softens. “But… why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know, Hobi,” she mutters, throwing her phone on the bed and feeling completely ridiculous about this entire plan. “I guess I thought that since you allegedly have feelings for me, maybe it would bother you that someone else does, too.”

“But why?” He sounds genuinely bewildered. “I mean, I trust you. What do I care if he has a thing for you? I know nothing will happen - you’re not that kind of person. I trust you,” he repeats, like he’s saying something really obvious.

“I -” Chaeyoung opens her mouth but nothing seems to come out. Hoseok still looks concerned, but his response is so out of syllabus that she doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“Chae, come on. I know you’d never do anything with another guy - you’re honest. And kind.” He takes a hesitant step closer to her. “I don’t think there’s anyone in the world I trust more than you. I mean, I guess I might be jealous if you liked him, too,” he says after a moment. “Do you?”

“No,” she says immediately. “Of course not. I just…” There’s a trickle of embarrassment that’s there, somewhere, but somehow it doesn’t seem very important right now. She purses her lips before sighing and letting her shoulders fall. “I get it.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “You still seem mad, though.”

“Yeah, I am mad,” she answers, although with far less feeling than before, “because… Sooah gave me some advice and you… you just went completely off script.” She sighs and walks up to him. “Come here,” she mutters, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugs her back immediately, arms automatically tightening around her waist.

“So I did say something wrong,” he guesses, sounding less anxious than before.

“No, unfortunately, you said all the right things,” she confirms, feeling stupid and silly in retrospect. He kisses the side of her head in response and she closes her eyes. “Thank you, oppa.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs against her hair, slowly stroking her back now. “Just… just don’t do any drugs, okay?”

“Just one hit of coke.”

“Don’t think for a second I won’t rat you out to your brother, caterpillar,” he warns, pulling away but not stepping back. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll find me at that party, too, watching your every move.”

Chaeyoung snickers. “Deal.”

—

It’s a breezy night, cool and quiet. Miso steps out of the Hybe building, ready for her last smoke before she needs to head home. It sours her mood slightly; her high from the hour she spent with Yoongi in his studio also seems to be waning.

She lights a cigarette, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. Yoongi said he’d meet her in a few, right after he’d innocently asked her if she’d be willing to give him a ride back home. She turns around and leans backwards against a low square-shaped area, just under a huge plant. She takes a deep drag and exhales, closing her eyes, opening them in a snap when she hears someone cough.

Turning towards her right, Miso sees a woman on the adjacent side of the square, leaning back in the same position. She turns at the same time and waves a hand.

“Sorry,” she says in English. “I mean…” It’s clear she’s struggling for the word for a few seconds. “Um -”

“No worries,” replies Miso, registering her surprise at getting a response in English. “I shouldn’t be smoking out here in public anyway.”

“Oh, that’s… fine.”

She’s beautiful - it’s the first thing Miso notices, her hair long and soft down her back, her eyes dark and expressive. She also looks familiar; Miso tries not to frown too obviously, for she’s definitely a foreigner, but she’s blanking on where she might have seen her before.

“Do you work here?” she asks, putting her cigarette out in a nearby trash can.

“Oh, no,” the girl says, shaking her head. American accent. “I’m just waiting for someone. A friend.”

Miso nods, not prying. “Sorry about the cigarette. I didn’t think there’d be anyone here this late.”

“That’s okay. It’s kind of ironic, actually,” she adds, “because I bet my - friend - this morning that he couldn’t go a whole day without smoking.”

“Yeah? What happens if he loses?”

“Uh, I don’t know because I think he might be winning.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

The girl winces. “I don’t have a clue if he actually smoked today, but he bet me in return that I couldn’t go the whole day without checking up on work, and…”

Miso raises her eyebrows. “Really? You couldn’t go a day without working? You must really love your job.”

“Sure, although some people call it workaholism.”

Miso chuckles at her wry tone. “Nothing wrong with a little self-awareness.”

“I have resisted so far, though,” she points out. “But I’m at the end of my tether and if he keeps me waiting too long, I may have no choice but to check my email.” She sighs dramatically and smiles, glancing sideways towards the entrance of the building and fluffing out her hair.

Miso follows her gaze to a small group of three people talking, particularly the tallest one, and something clicks. “Namjoon?” she asks, noting how the girl does a double take. “Is that the friend you’re waiting for?”

She smiles sheepishly. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not press or anything,” she confirms. “And I realise now where I’ve seen you before. We met at Taehyung’s birthday party, like a year ago. You were with Namjoon and I was with… well, never mind.”

The girl’s eyes light up in recognition. “Oh, yeah. Of course. I’m sorry - I’d had a lot to drink that night and I don’t really remember a lot of it… I’m Kaya,” she finishes, giving her a radiant smile.

“Miso.” They shake hands and Miso moves to stand opposite her by the wall. “It’s nice to finally meet the muse that’s probably inspired his last album,” she adds.

“Really?” Kaya frowns and glances back at him, looking confused but not altogether displeased. “Does he write a lot of songs about doctoral students struggling with insomnia?”

“Yeah, but he really romanticises the workaholism. He’s got a way with words.”

Kaya laughs. “It could be worse, I guess. Especially if I lose this damn bet.”

Miso frowns curiously. “Not to be dismissive of your work or anything, but… is it really that hard to switch off from it? Or do you not want to?”

“I don’t know.” Kaya shrugs. “I wish I could. But I’ve spent so much of my life planning and working towards this that missing out on something important just because I want to take a break… it just feels like I might regret it. It’s too important now. It’s what’s kept me going all this time.”

Miso nods, silent. It doesn’t sound like anything she’s ever felt before. She thinks about her job, the one she has now, the one she had to beg her father to keep. But even in her most stolen moments, she struggles to find the purpose present in Kaya’s voice.

“Wow,” she says finally. “How do you find that, do you think? Something that keeps you going?”

Kaya thinks about it for a few seconds. “I can’t remember, honestly. I guess… when you think about what you want your life to look like in five years, or ten. When you think about the future and find something that sticks.”

Wake up, rinse, repeat. There’s Hybe and her parents’ house, Seungkwan’s car being the intermediary. “I can’t remember the last time I thought about the future.” It’s too fucking depressing. She glances up at Kaya, who’s still looking at her, almost encouragingly. “I guess… when I went to college. In Australia.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, a smile flitting across her face. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Yeah. It’s lovely. Four years of school, and then I worked at this pub in Sydney, not far from the beach. I was doing branding for them, initially, and then I started meeting some of the local artists they’d bring in to do live music,” she adds, before trailing away. “And then I met a record producer there who asked me to work for his company. A small one, in New South Wales.” She pauses. “Yeah, I guess that was the last time I ever thought about the future. Australia,” she repeats, the name sounding like an old friend on her lips.

“Sounds to me like something to keep you going,” agrees Kaya softly.

Miso nods slowly. The day is still coming to an end and tomorrow still looks bleak as ever. But a happy memory - or a series of them - has surfaced after a long time and for that she is grateful.

Someone calls out her name just then and she jumps slightly, turning around to see Yoongi leaving the building from a side exit. He waves at her - and Kaya, she realises - as he walks towards them, then stops abruptly, picking up his phone. Visibly groaning at the caller ID, he holds up a finger and answers the call.

“Yoongi?” Kaya asks as Miso turns back. “A friend, I suppose?”

No, just a colleague. But the smirk playing on Kaya’s lips is too knowing and Miso tries to fight her own fleeting smile. “In a manner of speaking.”

They share a laugh as Namjoon approaches them, looking somewhat surprised to see Miso. “Miso, how are you?” he says formally. “This is -

“We’ve met,” says Kaya, in English.

“Yeah, we kept each other company while we waited,” adds Miso, before switching briefly to Korean. “You’ve made a good catch.”

A surprised sort of smile appears on his face, but he nods humbly. “I agree,” he mutters knowingly. “Are you waiting for Yoongi hyung?”

“Yeah, he’ll just be a minute.” She notices him moving to stand next to Kaya, the way their bodies tilt unconsciously towards each other. “It was really nice to meet you, though,” she says to Kaya.

“You, too,” she replies immediately, smiling that same charming smile and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she turns to Namjoon. “Ready to go?”

Namjoon nods and they all bid farewell to each other, including silent waves to Yoongi across the entrance of the building. As they move to leave, something occurs to Miso. She turns to look at Yoongi, who gives her quick smile when he meets her eyes, still on the phone.

Turning back, she calls out Kaya’s name, who stops a few seconds before Namjoon does, about five feet behind. Miso walks up to her, heart racing slightly in anticipation.

“Everything okay?” Kaya asks, when she’s close enough.

“Yeah. I wanted to ask…”

Miso bites her lip, thinking of cigarettes, fully clothed showers and beaches in Australia.

“...do you want to exchange phone numbers? Just to keep in touch?”

—

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