#Rya's challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarluna · 6 months ago

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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 4 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Rollercoaster of sh*t.

ACT IV.

My head swam, but not from the alcohol this time. Of course, he owned the hottest spot in town. Why wouldn’t he? It was so… him. Dark, magnetic, and pulsing with an energy that felt alive.

I tilted my chin up, caught up by the warmth spreading in my chest. “You could’ve led with that, you know. Saved me the shock.” My words came out more sassy than I’d intended, but the moment they left my mouth, I realized I didn’t care.

Yoongi’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “And miss that reaction?” He shrugged. “Not a chance.”

Hoseok snorted beside me, nudging me playfully. “You’re a natural at this, Y/N. Keep him on his toes.”

I ignored Hoseok, my eyes locked on Yoongi’s. “So, what’s the deal? You walk in here like some dark prince, surveying your kingdom, and then just… what? Decide to mingle with the common folk?”

That earned me a genuine chuckle. Low and rich, it sent a ripple through me that I wasn’t prepared for. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, his tone almost teasing, “I’d think you were flirting.”

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Besides,” I gestured around, nearly knocking over an empty glass in the process, “you’re the one interrupting our little party.”

Yoongi leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Trust me, I’m not interrupting. I’m improving it.”

That stupid smirk again. He was too smooth for his own good.

I crossed my arms, standing my ground—or at least trying to, given my slightly unsteady balance. “Bold claim. Care to prove it?”

His gaze darkened, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

It was a challenge, plain and simple. And I was tipsy enough, bold enough, to take the bait.

Yoongi’s gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, the smirk on his lips softening into something dangerously close to intrigue, before he straightened up. “I’ll leave you to your… festivities,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes still locked on mine. “Don’t wander too far.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his presence like a phantom that left behind a trail of chaos.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, only to be jolted by the sound of Rya scooting closer. “What the hell was that?” she squeaked, her wide eyes darting between me and the direction Yoongi had gone.

Hoseok, ever the life of the party, burst into laughter, slapping his knee as if the entire exchange had been the highlight of his night. “Oh, this is gold. Y/N, I don’t know what you’re drinking, but you need to have it every time we go out. That was legendary.”

I flushed, suddenly feeling the heat of their stares more than Yoongi’s. “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.

Rya gaped at me. “Are you kidding me? You were, like, full-on flirting with Min Yoongi. The Min Yoongi! Who owns this place! And he flirted back!”

“That wasn’t flirting,” I said quickly, though my voice wavered just enough to make my protest unconvincing.

“Oh, please,” Rya shot back, recovering from her shock to grin at me like she’d just uncovered a scandal. “He was looking at you like you were the only person here. And don’t think I didn’t catch that little breathy moment you had when he leaned in.”

“I did too!” Hoseok chimed in, his laughter subsiding into a knowing grin. “You might as well have swooned. It was like watching a scene from a K-drama.”

“I did not swoon!” I hissed, but my cheeks were betraying me, burning hotter by the second.

Rya leaned in, her teasing grin turning downright mischievous. “So? What’s the plan? Are you going to play coy, or are you going to see where this goes?”

“There’s no plan!” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Rya said, drawing out the word like she didn’t believe me for a second. “And that’s why you’re still blushing.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Hoseok and Rya said in unison, and I groaned again, this time into my hands.

Rya gave my shoulder a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll make sure you’re ready for when Prince Yoongi decides to return for his damsel.”

“I hate you both,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop the small laugh that bubbled up despite myself.

Hoseok raised his glass. “To Y/N, our fearless leader in the art of unexpected seduction!”

Rya clinked her glass against his with a giggle, and I shook my head, knowing there was no escaping their teasing tonight.

The night continued to spiral into a haze of drinks, laughter, and teasing. I couldn’t quite remember how many cocktails I’d had, but the warm, dizzying buzz was taking over. Hoseok kept encouraging me to try new drinks, and I, in my tipsy confidence, couldn’t say no. At some point, I realized my tolerance was slipping, and I needed a break from the noise and chatter.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered to Rya, who was currently nursing her own drink with that playful grin still plastered on her face. “I need a minute. Just a quick breather.”

“Good call,” she said, her tone teasing as always. “Let's go get some fresh air, princess.”

I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself as I pushed myself to my feet, a little unsteady but managing. The motion of the crowd around me made my head spin, and I began to make my way toward the back of the bar, where the balcony on the second floor awaited.

Rya followed without hesitation, catching up to me as I stumbled out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face and doing little to clear the fog in my head. The balcony overlooked the main entrance, the buzzing energy of the bar below a stark contrast to the calmness of the night sky above.

I leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, I almost felt like I could breathe again. Rya stood beside me, lighting up a cigarette. The first drag she took made me blink in surprise. I hadn’t expected her to be a smoker.

“You smoke?” I asked, my voice a little more slurred than I’d intended.

She shrugged, the cigarette hanging between her fingers. “Only when I’m stressed or need to think. Never really felt like it until tonight.” She gave me a sidelong glance, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. “I think you might’ve had a little too much fun tonight.”

I laughed weakly. “Maybe,” I admitted, feeling the buzzing in my head intensify with each word I spoke.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the cars passing by below. The cool breeze was refreshing, but my mind couldn’t seem to quiet.

Rya took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air. I could feel her eyes on me as the silence stretched on, but I didn’t know what to say. It was strange, talking to someone who wasn’t part of the world I used to know.

I leaned my elbows on the railing, staring down at the street, my thoughts swirling. “You know, this is weird,” I started, trying to make sense of the jumble in my head. “I’ve never been good at places like this. Clubs. Bars. I don’t know… it just feels like everyone’s always so... confident.”

Rya didn’t say anything at first, just continued to smoke, as if waiting for me to go on. When I did, my words came out more in a rush, as if I couldn’t stop them.

“I used to have this group of girls I called my friends. We’d go out together, but it was never real, you know? Everyone was always smiling at each other, acting like everything was fine, but... behind the scenes, it was all about tearing each other down. I felt like I was invisible half of the time. They only kept me around to make themselves feel better because I was the fat one and they weren't. I just felt... useless.”

I sighed, feeling a bit foolish for spilling all of this out to someone I barely knew. Rya didn’t seem surprised, though. She simply leaned against the railing beside me, flicking the ashes from her cigarette.

“Sounds like they were garbage people,” she said bluntly, without a hint of hesitation.

I blinked at her. “Yeah, well… I didn't know it at the time. I just kept thinking if I stayed, they’d notice me, or that maybe I wasn’t... that bad.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Rya said quietly, her voice softer now. She paused before speaking again, looking out over the railing as if gathering her own thoughts. “I think a lot of people feel that way at some point. Like they don’t belong, or like they’re just filling space.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t like I expected her to understand completely, but somehow, hearing it from her made me feel a little less crazy. A little less... alone.

“I guess that’s why tonight feels different,” I said after a pause, the words coming out softer, more vulnerable than I meant them to. “For the first time, a stranger actually... came up to me. Asked me to dance. No one’s ever done that before, not like that. I don’t know why, but... it feels like maybe I’m not invisible, you know?”

Rya’s gaze shifted to me then, her eyes softer than they’d been a moment ago. She let the silence stretch for a beat before she smiled. It wasn’t one of her teasing, playful grins. It was something more genuine.

“You’re not invisible, Y/N. Maybe it’s just taking some time for you to see it too.” She took a last drag of her cigarette, letting out a long exhale before tossing it over the side of the balcony. “But don’t let it take too long. You deserve to feel like you matter—like you’re seen.”

I felt a lump form in my throat, and for the first time in a long time, the words I’d wanted to say but never had a chance to were finally coming to the surface.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Really.”

She just nodded, her face lighting up with a kind of warmth I wasn’t used to, and I felt something shift inside me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but in that moment, with her standing beside me, the weight I’d carried for so long felt just a little bit lighter.

We stayed there for a while longer, the cool breeze calming the storm in my chest, and I let myself simply... be.

Rya and I made our way back into the club, the heat and noise almost overwhelming after the cool air outside. We weaved through the crowd until we found Hoseok sitting in the same booth we had claimed earlier. He was still chatting with Yoongi, who I now realized had been there for a while. He must have arrived earlier while we were outside, though I hadn’t noticed him.

I hadn’t expected him to be the owner of this place. Whilst tipsier earlier, I had came to that realization earlier when he visited us and it surprised me more than I wanted to admit. He didn’t look like the owner, or at least, not like any owner I’d ever imagined. There was something about his sly like fox presence that made him seem more like a mysterious figure who didn’t really want to be noticed.

As we approached, Hoseok greeted us with a bright grin. “Ah, there you are! It took you long enough!”

“We are here now,” I said, not quite ready to dive into anything more. My gaze flickered over to Yoongi, who was sitting back in his chair, relaxed but with his eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t sure if he noticed me looking, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was like a shadow hanging over everything.

“You guys good?” Rya asked, taking her seat beside Hoseok as if nothing were unusual. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. My glass was almost empty, so I motioned to the bartender for another drink, trying to focus on anything but the magnetic tension I felt from Yoongi.

Rya turned her attention to Hoseok, as usual, but I could feel Yoongi’s gaze on me like a weight. I was hyperaware of every step I took, every breath I made. His presence made my pulse quicken, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing how much it affected me.

Hoseok, blissfully oblivious to the tension between me and Yoongi, kept up his cheerful banter. “I swear, every time I see you two, I get more and more worried about your liver,” he teased, nudging Rya playfully.

Rya laughed. “We’re fine, Hoseok. Don’t worry about us.”

I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to Yoongi, and the more I thought about him, the more the atmosphere in the club felt charged. I had come here tonight for a fun distraction, not to get wrapped up in whatever unspoken connection existed between him and me. But there it was—always lingering in the background, impossible to ignore.

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yoongi says, leaning back against the couch with that smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes glint with amusement, the kind that makes my already warm cheeks burn hotter.

“I am not drunk,” I declare, pointing a finger at him dramatically. Okay, so maybe my hand wobbles a little—fine, a lot—but still, I’m holding my ground. “I’m just... delightfully loose. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t know a good time if it hit you in the face.”

His smirk deepens. God, that smirk. “Delightfully loose? Is that what we’re calling this?” He gestures vaguely at me, and I glare at him—or at least I try to glare.

“Yes, and you’re lucky to be in the presence of this level of charm,” I shoot back, crossing my arms. It’s supposed to be dramatic, but I nearly knock over my drink, so the impact is somewhat lessened.

Yoongi just laughs—a rare, low chuckle that makes me want to both punch him and grin like an idiot. “You’re a mess.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “A delightful mess. Don’t forget the important adjectives, Yoongi.”

He shakes his head, looking at me with that infuriating mix of amusement and fondness. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

I scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder like the dramatic queen I absolutely am tonight. “Future me is tough as nails. She can handle it.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmurs, leaning closer now, his face annoyingly smug—and annoyingly close. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You’re always fun when you’re around me,” I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. “Which isn’t often, by the way. You’re too busy being sly as a fox.”

He raises a brow. “Sly as a fox?”

“Yes,” I say, leaning into my sass. “Like some sly fox lurking in the shadows, pretending to be all mysterious, but secretly just waiting for someone to feed your ego.”

That laugh again—soft, deep, and way too satisfying to hear. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“And you’ve got quite the ego,” I quip, smirking triumphantly. But before I can revel in my win, Yoongi shifts closer, the warmth of his presence suddenly tangible. My breath catches, and I hate how I feel my sass faltering under his gaze.

“You’re impossible,” he whispers, his voice quieter now, like the moment’s shifted without me realizing it.

“Impossibly charming,” I manage, my voice smaller than I’d like, my cheeks heating up even more.

From the corner of my eye, I see Rya grinning like a Cheshire cat, her phone raised. “Oh my God, you two, stay just like that.”

“What? No—Rya!” I protest, my voice going high-pitched and ridiculous, but before I can move, there’s the telltale click of her camera.

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he chuckles, the sound so soft and close it sends a shiver down my spine. “Let her keep it,” he says, looking at me like he’s amused by my flustered state.

“But she’s going to use it against me!” I protest, trying to reach for her phone.

“Don’t worry,” Rya says, laughing as she holds the phone out of reach. “This one’s for memory purposes. You’ll thank me later.”

“Ryaaa!” I groan, but before I can fight back properly, Yoongi’s hand gently catches my wrist.

“Seriously,” he says, his tone low, almost... fond? “Let her keep it. Might be worth remembering tonight.”

I blink, caught completely off-guard by the softness in his voice. His dark eyes meet mine, and suddenly my mind’s gone blank. All the witty comebacks I had lined up? Gone. Just like that.

“I—yeah,” I mumble, the words slipping out before I can think. “Maybe it is.”

For a moment, the world seems to shrink around us, his face close enough that I can see the faintest crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

And in the background, Rya? She’s probably grinning like an idiot because she just captured something that wasn’t meant to be caught.

I finally snapped myself out of the haze and glanced at Rya. “Let’s go dance,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Her eyes lit up. “Now you’re speaking my language!” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the dance floor. I followed her eagerly, trying to push Yoongi from my mind as we joined the crowd.

As the music thumped in my chest, the mood shifted, and I started to let go. The music was slow, sensual, and I found myself following Rya’s lead, moving with her in time with the rhythm. I wasn’t focused on anyone else in the room—just the music, just the beat, just the moment.

But then I felt it again. That familiar, heavy weight of someone’s gaze on me. I looked up and met Yoongi’s eyes across the room. He was watching us. Watching me.

My heart skipped a beat. He didn’t look away this time. His gaze was piercing, intense. And something about the way he looked at me—like he saw right through the act I was putting on—had my chest tightening. The air felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and I felt exposed, like the whole world could see my vulnerability.

Rya must have noticed my shift in energy, because she leaned closer, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You know he’s still watching, right?”

I swallowed, trying to shake off the nervous feeling rising in my chest. “I know,” I muttered, though I was anything but casual about it. Every part of me wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to him.

Rya gave me a knowing look. “If you keep looking at him like that, you’re gonna end up in trouble.” Her words made me feel even more exposed, but she didn’t stop grinning.

I turned my attention back to the music, trying to lose myself in the rhythm again. But as much as I tried to ignore it, I could still feel Yoongi’s gaze on me, lingering like a weight on my shoulders. The heat from his eyes made everything feel heavier, more intense. It was as if the music wasn’t enough to drown out the way he was looking at me, the magnetic pull between us too strong to ignore.

As the night wore on and the effects of the alcohol finally began to hit me full force, my limbs felt heavy, my steps wobbly. Rya and Hoseok had been keeping an eye on me, and it wasn’t long before Rya grabbed my arm with a concerned look.

“Alright, party girl,” she said, her voice firm but affectionate. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to call it a night.”

Hoseok appeared beside her, nodding. “Yep. Before you start serenading the entire club with your ‘delightfully loose’ energy.”

I groaned, my head lolling against Rya’s shoulder. “I was having fun,” I mumbled, but I didn’t resist as they guided me toward the exit. The cool air hit me like a wave as we stepped outside, clearing my head just enough to realize how far gone I was.

“Let’s get her home,” Rya said to Hoseok, who fished out his phone, probably to call a cab.

Before he could, however, the door behind us opened, and Yoongi stepped out into the night. His expression was unreadable as his gaze landed on us—or maybe just on me. “You leaving already?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something in his voice that made me shiver.

Rya crossed her arms, immediately on guard. “Yeah. She’s had enough for one night.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to me, and I couldn’t decipher the look in them. “I’ll take you all home,” he offered, his voice calm but firm. “It’s late. Safer that way.”

Rya and Hoseok exchanged a skeptical glance. “I don’t know…” Rya started, clearly not thrilled about the idea of leaving me in his care.

Yoongi smirked slightly, his confidence frustratingly unwavering. “Relax. I’m not going to do anything. I’ll drop you both off first. She’ll be fine.”

“Will she?” Rya challenged, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“Rya,” Hoseok interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s late. He’s sober, and we’re all here. It’s probably better than waiting for a cab.”

Rya hesitated but finally relented with a sigh. “Fine,” she muttered, shooting Yoongi a pointed glare. “But if you try anything—”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Scout’s honor.”

With some reluctance, we all piled into Yoongi’s car. Hoseok and Rya sat in the back, with me in the passenger seat, my head leaning heavily against the window as the cool glass soothed my overheated skin. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep.

Yoongi dropped Hoseok off first, who gave him a wary but grateful nod. Then it was Rya’s turn. Before she got out, she leaned over the seat, glaring at Yoongi. “I’m trusting you with her,” she said, her tone deadly serious. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re awfully protective.”

“She’s my best friend,” Rya shot back, her voice firm. “And I’ll hunt you down if you try anything.”

Yoongi chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly confident. “Noted.”

Rya turned to me, squeezing my hand. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

I nodded, too tired to do more than mumble, “I will.”

Once Rya was gone, the silence in the car felt heavier. I shifted slightly in my seat, sneaking a glance at Yoongi. He was focused on the road, his expression unreadable, but the air between us was charged, thick with unspoken tension.

“You don’t have to take me home,” I mumbled, my voice softer now. “I could’ve taken a cab.”

“I know,” he said simply, not looking at me. “But I wanted to.”

Something about his tone made my heart skip a beat. I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur past, but I couldn’t shake the awareness of him beside me.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a moment, his voice breaking the silence.

“Just tired,” I replied, though it wasn’t the full truth. My thoughts were racing, filled with the way he looked at me earlier, the way he always seemed to carry himself with that infuriating mix of arrogance and mystery.

“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost contemplative.

I turned to look at him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Just an observation.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “You don’t know me well enough to make observations.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone annoyingly calm. “But I think I’m starting to.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My pulse quickened, and I hated how easily he got under my skin.

When we finally pulled up in front of my apartment, he parked the car and turned to me, his gaze steady. “Go inside. Text your friend like you promised.”

I nodded, fumbling with the door handle, but before I could get out, he spoke again.

“And Y/N?”

I paused, looking back at him.

He leaned slightly closer, his voice low. “You’re fun when you’re drunk. But you’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and for once, I had no witty comeback. Instead, I mumbled a quick goodnight and practically bolted out of the car, my heart racing as I fumbled for my keys.

As I stepped inside my apartment, I couldn’t help but glance out the window. His car was still there, idling for a moment before finally pulling away. And even as I closed the door behind me, my mind was still spinning, the memory of his words—and that look in his eyes—seared into my thoughts.

The next morning, I felt like death warmed over. My head throbbed with a relentless rhythm, and the sunlight streaming through the curtains made my eyes squeeze shut in protest. I groaned, rolling onto my side.

“Ugh... Hades,” I mumbled, squinting toward the edge of the bed. Sure enough, my little fluff ball of a dog was perched on his usual spot near my feet, his dark eyes fixed on me, ears perked in expectation. His tiny tail wagged as soon as I stirred.

“I know, I know,” I muttered, pushing myself up with far more effort than it should’ve taken. My mouth was dry, my muscles heavy, and my thoughts even heavier. “Breakfast first. Then I can hate myself for last night.”

Hades hopped off the bed and trotted ahead of me, his soft white fur bouncing with each step. By the time I reached the kitchen, he was already circling his food bowl, giving me a look that said, Hurry up, human.

I chuckled weakly, filling his dish and setting it down. “There. Happy?” I watched as he dove in, his tail wagging like I’d just given him the world. At least one of us was having a good morning.

While Hades busied himself with his food, I stumbled into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water did its best to melt away my hangover, but the memories of last night refused to wash away so easily.

By the time I made it back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, my nerves were already fraying. With Hades trailing close behind, I shuffled out onto the balcony, cradling my mug like it was my last lifeline.

The crisp morning air helped a little, enough to jolt me out of the lingering haze of sleep. Hades curled up near my feet, his fluffy coat glowing in the soft sunlight as he rested his head on his paws.

I leaned back in my chair, taking a slow sip of coffee. For a moment, I let the stillness of the morning lull me, the warmth of the mug grounding me. But it didn’t last long.

Like an unwelcome tide, the memories from last night started flooding back.

The club. The drinks. The banter with Yoongi. My stomach twisted as flashes of my drunken antics resurfaced—the sass, the dramatic finger-pointing, the teasing.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I muttered, covering my face with one hand. Hades perked up slightly at the sound of my voice but settled back down when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere.

The memory of Yoongi’s smirk, his low chuckle, the way he’d looked at me—all of it came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. My cheeks burned as I remembered calling him a sly fox and declaring myself a “delightful mess.” The mortification was almost enough to make me curl up into a ball and stay there forever.

But what really made my chest tighten was the car ride home. His words, his gaze, the way he’d said, “You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Why couldn’t I just forget about it? Why did that moment, of all things, have to stick with me?

The insecurities hit like a freight train, each one louder than the last. Did I look foolish to him? Did I come off as desperate? What if I’d ruined everything—whatever this was?

Hades shifted at my feet, letting out a soft whine, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears, needing the comfort. “It’s fine,” I told him softly, more to myself than to him. “It’s not like he’s going to bring it up. Right?”

Hades yawned, clearly uninterested in my crisis, and rested his head again. I let out a shaky sigh, sipping my coffee and staring out at the city.

I had no idea how to face him again. But no matter how much I panicked, I couldn’t stop replaying his words in my head, over and over again.

“You’re even more fun when you’re just you.”

Why did that have to be the part I remembered most?

I swirled the mug absently, staring at the skyline but not really seeing it. The memory of Yoongi’s smirk lingered in my mind, sharp and clear. The way his eyes had glinted with something unreadable, something that made me feel... seen, but not in a way I could understand.

And what if it was all just a game?

My stomach twisted violently at the thought, the unease clawing its way up my throat. What if Yoongi had just been toying with me? Testing how far he could push me before I broke? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that, the memory of teenage taunts and cruel laughter surfacing like ghosts I thought I’d buried.

What if he wanted to see if the fat girl would fall for his charms?

I felt sick. I set the mug down with shaky hands, clutching the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. My cheeks burned, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment—it was anger. Anger at myself for letting him get to me, for letting my guard down, for letting his words and his smile burrow under my skin like they had any right to be there.

Fucking hell, Y/N. Why did you let this happen?

I buried my face in my hands, the sharp edge of panic building in my chest. What if he laughed about it later? What if this was nothing but some joke to him? A story to share with Jungkook tomorrow at work?

Oh, God.

Was he going to mock me?

I could already picture it: Yoongi leaning back in his chair, smirking as he recounted the night to Jungkook. Talking about how easy it was to get a reaction out of me, how I’d blushed, how I’d been drunk enough to practically fall into his lap.

My breathing hitched, anxiety tightening its grip on me like a vise. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to will the spiral to stop, but it didn’t. The thoughts came faster, louder, each one worse than the last.

What if tomorrow at work he made some sly comment, dropping hints that only I would catch, smirking when I squirmed under the weight of it? What if Jungkook looked at me differently, pitying me for falling for Yoongi’s charms? What if—what if—

“Stop it,” I whispered harshly to myself, my voice trembling.

But the damage was done. The doubts had sunk their claws into me, and no matter how much I tried to shove them down, they lingered, festering like an open wound.

Hades whined softly at my feet, nudging my leg with his nose. I looked down at him, my chest tightening further. His dark eyes stared up at me, his tiny head tilted, as if asking, Why are you upset?

I reached down, stroking his soft fur with trembling hands. “I’m fine,” I murmured, though the words felt like a lie.

But I wasn’t fine.

I was panicking, spiraling, drowning in a tide of insecurities that felt too heavy to swim against. And no matter how hard I tried to push the memories of last night away, they clung to me, stubborn and sharp, refusing to let me forget just how vulnerable I’d been.

And how foolish I’d been to let myself believe, even for a second, that Yoongi might have meant any of it.

The Monday morning commute was a nightmare. Traffic was a mess, and I could feel the anxiety building with each minute I was stuck in place. My stomach twisted in knots, and by the time I made it to the office, I was already on edge. The weekend had been long and uncomfortable, and I was not in the mood to face everyone—especially Yoongi.

As soon as I stepped through the door of the office, I immediately felt the weight of all those eyes. The hum of the usual office chatter felt deafening.

I kept my head down as I walked toward my desk, hoping I could just blend into the sea of busy workers. I didn’t need anyone noticing me today. I didn’t need anyone talking to me.

I quickly sank into my chair and buried myself behind my computer, praying that I could get through the day without any awkward interactions. The worst part was that I could feel it—the tension in the air, thick and unspoken. The what ifs from the weekend were still swirling in my mind, and the fear of being the subject of office gossip made it hard to focus on anything else.

Just when I thought I might finally be safe, I heard the unmistakable sound of Rya’s footsteps approaching. My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone already heavy with something I didn’t want to hear. “We need to talk.”

I looked up, already feeling a rush of dread. “What’s going on?”

Rya’s eyes were filled with concern, and there was something else, too—something I couldn’t quite place. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “The picture of you and Yoongi… the one I took that night… it’s been uploaded to the company website.”

My blood ran cold. I could feel my face drain of color as I scrambled to process what she was saying. “What?!” I hissed, glancing around the office. Sure enough, a few people were looking in our direction, whispering to one another. I wanted to shrink into my chair, but it felt like all eyes were on me.

“What do you mean it was uploaded?” I felt the panic rising in my chest.

Rya sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t know. It just appeared there. Some anonymous source uploaded it, and now… well, people are talking.”

I stood up so quickly that my chair nearly tipped over. My hands were shaking as I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one person to the next. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the realization hit me: someone had posted the picture of Yoongi and me, and now it was out in the open for everyone to see.

“Did you do it?” I asked, my voice rising. Rya’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head.

“Y/N, no! I swear to you, I didn’t do it!” she protested. “Hoseok didn’t either. We’d never—”

I couldn’t stop the surge of frustration. I knew I wasn’t going crazy, but there was only one person who had been there with us, who could potentially have access to the photo. “Then who else was there, Rya?” I spat, my hands clenched into fists.

She blinked in surprise at the sudden heat in my voice, but I could see her starting to piece things together. “Wait… you don’t think… Yoongi, right?”

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had been there, and he was the one with the power to upload it. I felt my blood boil. Of course it was him.

I stormed down the hallway, my steps growing faster as I approached the balcony. I knew exactly where to find him—Yoongi was always there, cigarette in hand, leaning against the railing, as if the world outside could fix whatever thoughts were swirling in his head. But when I threw open the door, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Jungkook was standing there, his hand gripping Yoongi’s collar, his face tight with anger. My heart sank, and for a split second, I didn’t even know how to react.

“Jungkook, what the hell—” I snapped, my voice sharp with confusion and frustration.

He turned to face me, his expression a mix of upset and disbelief. "You—" he started, cutting off mid-sentence, his gaze flicking to Yoongi, still holding him by the collar. "This picture, Y/N. You don’t get it. It’s going to ruin the company’s image!"

I could feel my pulse quicken, anger boiling in my veins. I hadn’t even had a chance to process what was happening before Yoongi spoke up, his voice low and mocking, as always.

"Relax," he drawled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “I did not upload it. Not like you had much to worry about, though. The way you looked that night... You sure your friends are as real as they seem?”

His words hit like a slap, each syllable laced with venom, and I could feel my stomach churn in disbelief. The nerve of him, mocking me like this—mocking everything I’d been through. The image, my friends, all of it.

I was so angry, I couldn’t even speak. Instead, I just stared at him, every part of me wanting to explode. How dare he act like I was the one causing problems when he was the one toying with my life?

The sting of Yoongi’s words hit harder than I ever expected. It was like a punch to the gut, and I could feel every bit of my frustration and hurt boiling over. How could he say something like that? How could he act so differently now?

It felt like all the walls I had put up around myself were crashing down. I had trusted him. I had thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between us. But now—now he was just mocking me, belittling me, throwing all of my emotions in my face like they meant nothing.

Before I could even think, my hand was moving, slapping him across the face with all the force I could muster. His head snapped to the side, but the cold expression didn’t falter. And then, without thinking again, I shoved him hard—his cigarette flying from his hand as he stumbled back.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out, my voice trembling with rage and hurt.

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and stormed off the balcony, my chest tight and tears already starting to blur my vision. I couldn’t hold them back. They burned, hot and relentless, as I ran down the hall to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

I ended up in a bathroom, locking the door behind me. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered. My entire body shook with the weight of it—the betrayal, the pain, the confusion. Why did he have to hurt me like this? Why did he have to make me feel so small?

I spent what felt like hours on the bathroom floor, crying until my throat ached and my eyes burned. My makeup was ruined, my emotions shredded, and I couldn’t even think straight.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, I managed to pull myself together enough to stand and wipe my face. I wasn’t ready to face anyone, but I knew I had to. I took a deep breath, wiped away the last of the tears, and stepped out of the bathroom.

As soon as I did, I froze. Rya was standing there, her posture tense, her eyes full of regret. My heart sank.

"Y/N, wait," she began softly, stepping closer. "I—"

“What do you want, Rya?” I cut her off, my voice hoarse from crying. I wasn’t sure I could handle another person adding to my mess right now.

“I need to explain," she said, looking like she was about to cry too. "It was me. I—I sent the picture to Hoseok, and Hoseok... he sent it to his co-worker."

I felt the room spin, the anger and confusion flooding back all at once. "You did what?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

She nodded, her eyes full of guilt. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think it would get out like this. It was a stupid mistake. I should’ve never sent it. Please, just... please understand. I never meant for any of this to happen."

The words didn’t feel real. I just stood there, my mind racing, my heart sinking deeper into my chest. So much had been messed up already. So much had been done, and now... now it was all just crashing down around me.

I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear Rya's apologies or explanations. I couldn’t. It was too much, and right now, I just needed to be alone. The last thing I wanted was to stand there and listen to her make excuses for what she’d done. So, without another word, I turned and walked away from her, heading straight for my desk.

My steps were heavy, each one feeling like a punishment as I walked through the hallway. I didn’t care who saw me, didn’t care about the mess I was. I just wanted to go back to my desk, to find some semblance of control in the chaos.

As soon as I reached my cubicle, I collapsed into my chair, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I tried to steady my breathing. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. My heart still ached from Yoongi's words, and now, the fallout from Rya’s actions, the picture… It was all just too much.

But the relief of sitting at my desk didn’t last long.

Tina’s voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking as she approached me. "Well, well, look who’s back," she sneered. “Had a nice little breakdown, huh? That photo was a real treat. It’s almost cute how hard you tried to pretend you had it together.”

I didn’t even look up at her. I couldn’t stomach the idea of interacting with someone like her right now.

But Tina wasn’t done. She moved closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You know, Y/N," she said, her tone laced with cruelty, "I don’t know why you even bother. People like you? You’re never going to be loved. A fatty like you will always just be a joke."

The words hit me like ice water, cold and suffocating. I could feel my stomach drop, my chest tightening with the sting of her words. Every single insult she hurled felt like it was carving into my skin, one cruel word after another.

"People like me?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "What does that even mean?"

Tina chuckled, a sound so bitter it made my skin crawl. "It means exactly what I said. You’re never going to fit in, Y/N. Not with your body, not with your face, not with any of it. No one’s going to look at you the way they look at someone who actually matters."

I felt every word sink deeper into me, like poison that was seeping into my soul. I couldn’t even breathe. The thought of her judging me, of everyone judging me, it was too much.

I felt myself shaking, not from anger, but from the hurt that felt too heavy to carry. It wasn’t just her words. It wasn’t just Tina or anyone else. It was everything—the picture, Yoongi’s mockery, Rya’s betrayal—and now this, this new low I hadn’t even anticipated.

My hands clenched into fists, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the tears from spilling over. Tina had done it—she’d finally broken me.

I was still sitting there, trying to gather myself, my hands trembling as I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I could feel Tina’s eyes on me, her cruel words still ringing in my head like a broken record. I was trying so hard to keep it together, to not break completely, but every attempt felt futile.

Then, suddenly, I heard it—Jungkook's voice, sharper than I’d ever heard before.

"That’s enough," he snapped, his tone unlike anything I had ever heard from him. I looked up in surprise, my mind trying to process what was happening. His eyes were fierce, his jaw clenched as he stepped between me and Tina, standing protectively in front of me.

Tina scoffed, but there was a hesitant look in her eyes, as though she hadn’t expected Jungkook to speak up like that. "What, are you going to play the hero now after you were mocking her too?" she sneered, but her words lacked conviction.

"One word," Jungkook shot back, his voice like ice. "One word and you will get dismissed effective immediately."

He stood tall, unwavering, until Tina finally huffed and walked away, clearly unwilling to challenge him further. As she turned on her heel, I could hear her mutter something under her breath, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was Jungkook now.

He turned to me, his face softening a bit, though there was still a tightness in his expression. He knelt down in front of me, his presence oddly comforting despite everything I had been through today.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, but his concern was evident.

I shook my head, unable to find the words. There was too much going on inside my head, too much hurt and betrayal. I couldn’t trust anyone right now—not Tina, not even Rya or Yoongi. I couldn’t tell him that though. "Come to my office," he had whispered and before I could reply, my feet were dragging me there, following behind. He made sure to close the door as I sat on the soft cushioned sofa near his desk.

He didn't say anything nor pushed further. Instead, he walked to the side, pouring a glass of water and took out his handkerchief laying in one of his pockets. He returned and placed them in front of me, his movements careful, like he was trying to give me space but still offer some kind of comfort.

I glanced at the glass of water and the handkerchief. oddly enough I noticed red /JK/ initials on it. Funny.

I knew he was trying to help, but part of me didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know how to accept help from anyone right now. Everyone seemed so fake, so full of hidden motives, and I felt like I was surrounded by nothing but lies.

"Take it easy," Jungkook said, his voice calm and gentle. "You don’t have to stay here. If you need some time, take the day off. Go home. Just… take care of yourself, alright?"

I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, suspicion, confusion. It was hard to trust anyone at this point, especially when I had been betrayed so many times today. I didn’t know if I could leave, if I could just walk away from all of this, but… it did sound like the right thing to do.

"You don’t have to figure it out all at once.." he answered, noticing the pain in my eyes.

He took a step back, allowing me the space to make my own decision. He didn’t push, just stood there quietly, waiting for me to come to my own conclusion.

I could feel the tears starting to well up again, but I didn’t want to break down in front of him. I needed to pull myself together.

I nodded slowly, still uncertain, but willing to listen for my own sake. "Okay. I’ll go home."

I let out a shaky breath, picking up the glass of water as my hands trembled. For the first time today, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely alone. But even then, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, telling me to be careful.

Trusting anyone right now seemed impossible.

320 notes · View notes

scarluna · 6 months ago

Text

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 3 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter ;) Wink wonk.

ACT III.

The office buzzed with energy as the team gathered for an impromptu meeting. At this point, I had gotten used to the sudden meetings with absolutely no head start. Jungkook was not only controlling but impulsive as hell. No one knew what he was thinking, and for some, it was damn scary.

He stood at the head of the long conference table as me, Hoseok and Rya walked in. His expression sharp and focused over the scattered papers on the table. He wore a plain white button up shirt, dark grey jeans and his sleeves as usual were rolled up his sleeves showing off his tattoos. On one of his wrist there was an expensive Graff watch. Damn. Him and his expensiveness.

Next to him was Tina, practically glowing as she leaned just a little too close to him. Ever since I told her my piece of mind, she had been way too careful not to make it obvious because obviously people were whispering and spreading rumors. I guess she hasn't given up and had some hopes that she'd be noticed. As much as I despised her for how she treated me, I was feeling sorry for her at the same time. Her choice of clothing screamed attention too. Well, who was I to judge? I had no right to do that. Maybe someday the luck would be on her side, who knew?

“Listen up,” Jungkook began once everyone had taken their seats, his voice commanding the room. “MNT Media, one of our main competitors, is hosting a masquerade ball next Saturday. It’s more than just a social event—they’re using it as a chance to attract high-profile clients. Our goal is to ensure they don’t take our edge in the market.”

Tina raised her hand with a smug smile. “And how exactly are we supposed to ‘outshine’ them? Is there, like, a plan for that?”

Jungkook barely glanced her way. “Do your job, Tina. That’s the plan.”

The smirk I tried to suppress threatened to break through. Tina’s face faltered, but she quickly covered it with another fake smile, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her slim pointer finger. Gosh, she was such a cheerleader.

The room hummed with murmurs of curiosity.

“What does this mean for us?” Rya asked from her seat, her brows knit together. I took a glance at her. Unlike Tina, Rya was not showing her "admiration" too obviously and besides, she was way too mature and work-oriented to choose a good session of sex with her boss. I admired her for that.

Jungkook gestured to a slide on the projector, outlining a strategic approach. “It means we’ll attend the ball. Every single one of you is expected to be there.We’re not going to outright sabotage, but we will make sure our clients and prospects see us as the better option. Keep it subtle—this isn’t a smear campaign. It’s about relationships and presence.”And yes,” Jungkook added, his gaze cutting through the room like a knife, “graphic designers too.” His voice held a sharp edge of authority, daring anyone to challenge him.

I blinked, caught off guard by the specificity of his statement. “Graphic designers too? I thought only management should be present there,” I murmured, trying to keep my tone casual. I had never been to a ball. A masquerade ball for that matter.

He turned his head sharply to me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You think your job is just fonts and colors, don’t you?”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as his eyes pinned me down, but I refused to back down. “Not exactly, but—”

“But nothing,” he interrupted smoothly, leaning against the table, his tattoos flexing as his forearms rested on the edge. “Visuals sell. A well-designed presentation, a strategically placed logo, or even the subtleties in our event materials can make or break a client’s first impression. We need all hands on deck for this. Even,” he paused, locking eyes with me, “the ones who think they’re just here to doodle.”

The room shifted uncomfortably, a few stifled chuckles breaking the tension. I narrowed my eyes, but there was no mistaking the magnetic pull in the air between us. I hated how his cockiness somehow made my pulse race.

Hoseok, sensing the awkwardness, cleared his throat. “So... we’re all just attending or actively involved?”

“Actively,” Jungkook replied without missing a beat, his attention still on me. “You’ll each have tasks to ensure our brand presence is felt. It’s an opportunity to network, observe, and make sure MNT Media knows we’re not going anywhere.”

Just as I thought he might say something else to push me over the edge, he sighed dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Where the hell is Yoongi?” He raked a hand through his dark hair, his tone shifting to one of pure annoyance. “That idiot is late again.”

The room immediately relaxed but remained silent as everyone looked at each other. It was odd, since we were all caught up in that ball that we didn't notice Yoongi missing. Jungkook might have been a force to be reckoned with, but his annoyance with Yoongi being careless and late was an ongoing office joke.

“Probably got distracted by his latest overpriced gadget,” Hoseok quipped, earning a round of muffled laughs.

Jungkook let out a low groan, shaking his head like he was carrying the weight of the world—and Yoongi’s constant stumbles at work—on his shoulders. “If he weren’t my best friend, I’d have fired him five times by now.”

The mention of Yoongi and the Boss brought a flicker of thought to my mind, one that I quickly buried. But it lingered, uninvited. The rumors about Yoongi being more than just another employee—they never truly left me. Supposedly, he was the son of a conglomerate empire, someone who didn’t have to work here but chose to for reasons no one could quite figure out.

Me? I wasn’t deluded enough to think it was because of me, even though the timing was uncanny. Yoongi had started here just a few days after I did, but the whispers always suggested something else. His arrival was tied to some long-forgotten scandal, one no one had the full details on, and I had long given up trying to separate fact from fiction.

Still, the idea that Yoongi might be playing a role that went far deeper than just my “supervisor” always made me a little uneasy. Not that he ever actually supervised me. His attitude made sure of that.

“Yoongi always shows up just in time to avoid the worst of your wrath.” Tina spoke out in a sweet voice. I almost gagged.

“Lucky for him,” Jungkook muttered, leaning against the table with a long, deep sigh.

His broad shoulders slumped slightly, a rare crack in his polished, sharp-edged demeanor. For a moment, he looked... defeated. Vulnerable. It was enough to stir something deep in my chest, something I wasn’t ready to admit aloud.

But the moment passed quickly. Jungkook straightened, his sharp gaze slicing through the room once again, as if daring Yoongi to make him wait a second longer.

As the meeting finally wrapped up, my mind drifted to a new problem. A masquerade ball meant dressing up. And dressing up meant facing my wardrobe—or lack of one. How was I supposed to show up when all I owned were dark jeans, oversized t-shirts, some cardigans and that was it. Most of my clothes were black too.

After everyone returned to their desks, I cornered Rya and Hoseok by the water cooler.

“So,” I began hesitantly, “about this masquerade ball…”

Rya instantly perked up, her excitement palpable. “Isn’t it exciting? An actual masquerade ball! It’s like something out of a movie!”

“Yeah, except I have nothing to wear,” I admitted, biting my lip. “I don’t even know where to start. The last time I dressed up for anything was... well, never.”

Hoseok grinned, his easy charm shining through. “Relax, Y/N. It’s not about having the most expensive dress. It’s about confidence.”

Rya nodded enthusiastically. “I can help you find something to wear. There are plenty of places to rent gowns, and I bet you’ll look amazing once we get you sorted.”

Their support made my chest feel lighter, though a small part of me still hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass myself. Or you.”

“Y/N,” Hoseok said firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. He was taller than Rya and me, and if we didn't know him, we'd be intimidated as hell. He definitely had this cool aura and a resting bitch face people felt threatened by. He was smiling tho, like a sun that shined brightly. “You’re not embarrassing anyone. Especially not us. You’re going to show up, have fun, and remind people why you’re a badass.”

I managed a small smile. “Thanks, guys. I mean it.”

As we headed back to our desks, Tina’s shrill laughter cut through the air. She was perched on the edge of Jungkook’s desk, her hand resting just a little too close to his arm.

“Are you sure you don’t need a date for the ball?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.

I couldn’t resist the temptation to make a snarky comment. “Careful, Tina. You’re about one giggle away from falling off his desk.”

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing. “Stay out of it, Y/N. Didn't know fat people had opinions?”

“On the contrary,” I said, folding my arms as I leaned against my chair. “Watching you attempt to flirt is everyone’s business. But it's kinda amusing how pathetic you look. Keep it up, I will be rooting for you.” I gave her a bitter smile as she stared at me with a deep scowl on her face.

I noticed Jungkook’s lips twitch, but he quickly schooled his expression. “Enough, both of you. You are at a corporate setting.” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Oh, come on, Boss” I teased, unable to resist. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this little performance.”

His eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. “You should focus on your own preparations, Y/N,” he said smoothly. “Wouldn’t want you to show up unprepared.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I shot back, ignoring the slight tremor in my voice. “I’ll be ready. The real question is whether you’ll survive Tina’s advances without filing a harassment complaint.”

I heard Rya and Hoseok chuckle by my side.

Jungkook shot a glare at both of my co-workers and they immediately got silent. I narrowed my eyes, arms crossed against my chest. "Y/N, if I hear one more word coming out of your mouth, I will expect your resignation letter on my desk." he spoke coldly at me. By his expression I could see that he was done with my feistiness. Oh, but I wasn't done. "If you think silencing me will solve the problem, you're underestimating me." I mumbled lowly as I stared at his eyes. He did the same and somehow I felt a tension raise in the air. Before I could continue, Rya tugged my arm toward the office, making our conversation to come to an end. Tina was staring at me in full blown surprise that I was talking to Jungkook like that. "Why don't you fire her?" I heard her ask. And then no answer from my Boss.

As I turned back to my desk, I couldn’t shake the way Jungkook’s eyes lingered on me, or the strange twist in my stomach that followed. This masquerade ball was shaping up to be more complicated than I’d anticipated.

"Girl," Rya whispered, "you are getting bolder and bolder. I fucking love that." she managed to whisper in my ear and that comment alone made me and Hoseok giggle.

The cafeteria was bustling with its usual noise—people chatting over their lunches, trays clattering as they moved through the line. The smell of fresh coffee mixed with the faint scent of freshly baked goods hit my nostrils, yet the familiar knot in my stomach twisting made all the apetite I had disappear. This time, it wasn’t because of my body or my insecurities. It was the looming threat of the masquerade ball.

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but the thought of being surrounded by coworkers in an extravagant setting, feeling out of place in a sea of confident, stylish people... well, it didn’t sit well with me.

I sat with Hoseok, Rya, and a few others, trying to keep the conversation light. It was hard to focus on anything when I could already feel the weight of the ball hanging over me. I was always an anxious person and it took me months to get used to the pace of my work, despite the bullying.

“So, Hoseok,” Regina, one of the other graphic designers, piped up from across the table. She flipped her perfectly styled red hair over her shoulder, a flirty grin spreading across her face. “I was thinking… maybe you could be my date for the masquerade? You know, just the two of us. We’d make a great pair, don’t you think?”

My eyes flicked to Hoseok, and I saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He hesitated for a split second before speaking.

“I... I actually promised Rya I’d go with her,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, I noticed.

Regina’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, pretending to be completely unfazed. “Oh, really? Well, I guess that’s fine. Rya’s a great choice too.” She gave Rya a bright, fake smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Rya smiled back, but her expression was a bit surprised. “Oh, um, sure, yeah. Thanks for thinking of me, Hoseok.” She looked at him, and for a moment, there was a flicker of confusion in her eyes, but she said nothing more.

Regina’s attention had already moved on, her focus turning elsewhere, but I couldn’t help but notice how Hoseok’s gaze lingered on Rya for a second longer than usual. I wondered if there was something more there—something unspoken.

But before I could process the thought, my mind wandered again. It had only been a few days since I’d overheard that conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, and I couldn’t shake the way Jungkook’s words had echoed in my mind. The teasing. The lingering tension.

I pulled my thoughts back to the conversation at hand, though I could barely focus.

Regina, in her usual confident manner, turned to the group with a loud dramatic sigh as she took a sip from her pepsi cola.

“You know,” she began, her voice dripping with fake innocence, “it’s just so tragic when some people can’t even hope for a date. Like, what do you even do in that situation? Just... stay home and stuff yourself with food?”

Her gaze landed on me, lingering just long enough to make her target obvious. My chest tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Not everyone’s obsessed with finding a date,” I shot back, forcing a calm tone I didn’t entirely feel. I mean, I lied, I was obsessed to find a date and also obsessed in looking good enough so people would take me seriously and not embarrass the company I worked for. Wasn't I pathetic too? Regina didn't have to know that.

Regina’s eyes widened in mock surprise, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh, of course! Why would you worry about that, right? It’s not like anyone’s lining up to take you out. I mean,” she added, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “you’d probably have better luck on one of those makeover shows first. You know, before they film the big reveal.”

Her words hit like a slap, sharp and humiliating, but I refused to let her see it.

“You done?” I asked, standing abruptly. My chair scraped against the floor with an echoing screech, silencing the room for a moment.

Regina blinked at me, her smile faltering for a split second before returning even sharper. “Oh, sure, sure. Don’t let me keep you from... whatever it is you do.”

I walked away before she could twist the knife any further, my head held high despite the storm raging inside me.

My stomach churned at the underlying judgment. Of course, Regina thought I wasn’t worthy of a "real" date. She probably thought someone like me didn’t belong in that kind of environment to begin with.

Everyone seemed to have someone to go with. Hoseok had Rya. Regina had probably already found someone else from the other teams. And me? I’d be the one standing alone, a face in the crowd with no one to share the night with.

I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to go to the ball at all. What would I even wear? How could I stand in a sea of perfectly put-together people when I didn’t even feel like I belonged in the same room as them?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. It was a text from Rya:

“Hey, don’t worry about anything. We’re going together. I’ll help you with the outfit too!”

Her message brought a small smile to my face, but the unease still lingered. I typed a quick response as I was walking down the empty long hallway of the offices.

“Thanks, Rya. I just… don’t know if I should go. I feel like I’ll be the odd one out.”

Her reply came almost immediately:

“Don’t even think that way! You’re going to have a blast, I promise. And we’re all going to be together, so who cares what anyone else thinks?”

I stared at the message, the reassurance in her words offering some comfort, but I still wasn’t convinced.

Still, I couldn’t let my fears stop me. I had to at least try. I wouldn’t let them see how insecure I was.

Lost in thought as I walked down the hallway, I didn’t notice someone coming around the corner until we collided. A sharp thud was followed by a cascade of papers and folders scattering to the ground. I stumbled back, startled, as the other person muttered a low curse.

“Watch where you’re going,” came a smooth, slightly annoyed voice.

Looking up, I realized it was Min Yoongi, arms now empty as he surveyed the mess with a raised eyebrow. He crouched down to gather the papers, his expression unreadable but somehow laced with that signature playful smugness he was known for. I noticed his brown locks of hair were a mess, it was almost as if he had just gotten up and rushed here. Well, probably after a call by Jungkook he had to rush here. He was late after all.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, immediately dropping to my knees to help collect the documents.

“You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he remarked casually, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as he snatched up a folder near my hand. “Big plans? Or is brooding your thing now?”

I pressed my lips together, biting back a retort. His tone was teasing, but I couldn’t shake the lingering sting from Regina’s earlier comments.

“Just distracted,” I replied shortly, stacking the papers I’d gathered into a neat pile.

Yoongi’s lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Right. Distracted. Let me guess—you’re working on your master plan to snag a date for the ball? I am guessing you don't have one.” He leaned back on his heels, still crouched, and fixed me with a playful, knowing look.

I froze, his words cutting deeper than I expected, though his tone remained light.

When I didn’t respond, he tilted his head. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not going. Everyone’s talking about it. Even Tina’s got her claws in Jungkook.” His gaze flicked over me, his smirk sharpening. “Or is it that no one’s brave enough to take you?”

The heat rushed to my face, but I forced myself to look him in the eye. “Not everyone’s obsessed with finding a date, Yoongi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“True,” he replied with a shrug, standing up and brushing off his hands. “But it’s a shame, you know? All dressed up, standing by yourself in the corner. It’s a picture-perfect Cinderella moment, minus the Prince Charming.”

I glared up at him, my hands gripping the stack of papers a little too tightly. “Thanks for the advice,” I said flatly, shoving the papers into his chest as I stood up and headed down the hall without waiting for him to say anything else.

The hum of the office felt louder than usual as I sat at my desk, trying to get through the endless list of tasks I had to finish before the end of the day. The masquerade ball loomed over me, but today, something about the atmosphere felt different. Maybe it was because I couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Rya and Hoseok in my head. Maybe it was because deep down, I still wasn’t sure I belonged in that world? But in that moment, the phone in my hand buzzed, pulling me out of my spiral.

I glanced at the screen: Tae <3

I smiled to myself, swiping on the screen and gluing the phone to my ear. "Hey, Tae," I greeted, my voice a little lighter than it had been all day. Hearing his voice always made all the tiredness, worry and anxiety disappear.

"Hey, Y/N! I was just thinking about you," Taehyung’s warm, melodic voice greeted me through the phone. It was a comfort, like a hug I couldn’t see. "How are you doing?"

"Surviving, as always. Work’s a nightmare right now, and now there’s this whole masquerade ball thing. Honestly, I’m kind of dreading it."

He chuckled softly on the other end. "Yeah, I heard. It’s all anyone’s talking about. Are you going?"

I hesitated, fiddling with a pen on my desk. "Yeah. But I’m not exactly excited about it. Everyone’s got their dates… I don’t know, it feels like I’ll just end up standing awkwardly in the corner all night."

"Y/N," Taehyung said, his voice warm and reassuring, "you could show up wearing a potato sack, and you’d still outshine everyone. Don’t let those kinds of thoughts ruin it for you."

I smiled, the genuine kindness in his words making me feel lighter. "Thanks, Tae. You’re always so good at making me feel better."

There was a pause, and then his tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Actually, that’s kind of why I called. I was wondering if… well, if you’d want to go with me to the ball. As my date."

His words made my heart skip a beat, and I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. "You’re serious?"

"Of course I am," he said, laughing softly. "I think it could be fun. We’d stick together, and I’ll make sure you have a great time. No pressure, though."

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over my desk, and I looked up to see Jungkook standing there. His arms were crossed, and his expression was calm—too calm.

"Work call?" he asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I replied, keeping my tone even, though I could feel the tension radiating off him. "It’s personal."

"You’re busy, then," he said, his voice almost teasing but carrying a hint of something sharper. "Too bad—I was going to tell you there’s something urgent you need to handle. Guess it can wait."

I narrowed my eyes at him, my grip on the phone tightening. "If it’s so urgent, why don’t you handle it?"

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, but before he could respond, Taehyung’s voice came through the phone, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. "Y/N? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it’s fine," I said quickly, brushing off Jungkook’s attempt to derail the conversation. "Sorry about that. So, you were saying…?"

"I was asking if you’d go to the ball with me," Taehyung said again, his voice warm but clearer now.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening as he took in Taehyung’s words. His gaze darted to my phone, then back to me, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"That sounds great, Tae," I said, my voice bright despite the tension. "I’d love to go with you."

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate—his shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darkened, though he forced a sharp, insincere smile. "Perfect," he said, his tone icy. "I’m sure you and your friend will have a great time."

Before I could respond, he turned on his heel and stormed off, his steps echoing down the hallway.

"Y/N?" Taehyung’s voice broke through the silence, pulling my attention back to the phone. "Are you sure everything’s okay?"

"Yeah," I said, though my heart was racing. "It’s nothing. I'll talk to you later."

As I ended the call, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jungkook’s reaction lingering in the air, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. I was weirded out from the way he acted. Why was he so stingy for?

It was Friday afternoon, a two days after our meeting about that ball was held and the tension in the office seemed to be building, as if everyone was bracing themselves for the masquerade ball that was looming just days away. It was all anyone could talk about. Some of my coworkers were still obsessing over their outfits, while others were already talking about their plans.

I was organizing some documents at my desk, trying to stay focused despite the whirlwind of thoughts running through my mind about the masquerade ball. The idea of going felt daunting, especially when it seemed like everyone already had their perfect plans sorted out.

"Y/N," a low, familiar voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Yoongi leaning casually against the edge of my desk, his signature smirk playing on his lips. I frowned. He did not approach me unless it was work related. I wondered what was it this time.

"Hey," I said, surprised yet skeptical of his approach. "What’s up?"

He shrugged, glancing down at the papers I was shuffling. "Not much. Just… figured I’d check in."

I arched an eyebrow. "Check in? What for?"

Yoongi’s smirk grew, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation? Nerves? It was so subtle I almost missed it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his tone suddenly more casual. "You know, about the ball—"

"Y/N!" Rya’s voice rang out, cutting through Yoongi’s words like a sharp knife. I turned to see her bounding toward us, her excitement practically radiating off her.

Yoongi straightened, his smirk fading slightly as he stepped back, giving Rya room to invade the space.

"Hey, Rya," I said, trying not to sound annoyed at the interruption.

"I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Rya said, ignoring Yoongi entirely. "So, I had this amazing idea! We should totally go dress shopping together for the ball tomorrow. I know this great place, and we can make a whole day of it and then me, Hoseok and you can go out clubbing after? I am in a mood for some drinks!" Clubbing? Oh god. It has been what- years since I went there? Too much people, loud music and bodies bodies pressing against each other.

I glanced at Yoongi, who was watching the interaction with a blank expression, though his eyes betrayed his irritation.

"That sounds fun," I said, offering Rya a small smile. "I will think about the clubbing part tho."

Rya grinned, nodding her head, yet she finally noticed Yoongi standing there. "Oh, hey. Didn’t see you. What are you doing here?"

"Just talking to Y/N," he said, his tone clipped. "But I’ll let you two get back to your plans."

With that, he turned and walked away, his usual calm demeanor masking whatever frustration he might have felt.

I watched him leave, a strange pang of guilt tugging at me. Had he been about to ask something important?

"Isn’t it great?" Rya said, pulling me back into the moment. "We’ll find the perfect dress for you. You’re going to look amazing."

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile, though my mind was still on Yoongi and the words he hadn’t gotten a chance to say.

The soft hum of the mall's ambient music barely registered as Rya and I made our way through the racks of dresses. The neon lights overhead cast a warm glow over everything, but my mind was far from the sparkly fabrics hanging in front of me. We’d been at it for what felt like hours, and I was still having trouble settling on anything that felt like me. The ball was a week away and I was a ball of anxiety.

"How about this one?" Rya asked, holding up a shimmering emerald green dress, the fabric catching the light. She seemed determined to find something that would make me stand out—something that would make me feel like I belonged.

I shook my head, glancing over the dress with a hesitant frown. "It’s pretty, but I don't know... I think it’s a bit too much." I sighed, tugging at my sleeve. "I'm just not sure I want to be noticed that much, you know?"

Rya raised an eyebrow, her fingers still gripping the hanger. "You're seriously telling me you're going to let some people in the office make you feel like you don't deserve to be seen?" She shook her head, pushing the dress aside. "No way. You deserve to wear something that makes you feel confident, strong and sexy."

I smiled weakly, appreciating her effort to boost me, but inside, I felt like I was just pretending. None of it mattered when the people at work—especially Jungkook and Yoongi—were still constantly tearing me down.

As I stared at the dresses in the store, Rya’s voice cut through the silence, a casual comment that made my head snap up.

“You know, I have noticed that the Boss and Yoongi act weird lately,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something else—curiosity?

I turned to face her, my brow furrowing in confusion. "Weird? What do you mean?"

Rya set down a dress she had been holding, turning toward me with a knowing look. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen the way they’ve been acting around you. They’ve both tried to approach you, Y/N, and it seemed like they were going to invite you to the ball.”

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What? Yoongi and Jungkook? Invite me?" I laughed, the sound more disbelieving than amused. "That’s ridiculous. Why would they even do that?"

Rya’s expression didn’t falter, but there was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “I don’t know, but it’s not like them. They’ve never been this... friendly with you before. And it’s not just me—other people have noticed it too. It’s like they’re genuinely interested in you.”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. The thought of Yoongi and Jungkook—two people who had made a habit of mocking me—suddenly being “interested” in me was too much to process.

“No, Rya. I don’t buy it,” I said, shaking my head. "They’ve always treated me like crap. They’ve made fun of me for months, and now suddenly they want to take me to the ball? No way."

Rya didn’t seem convinced. “But why would they bother trying to invite you if they didn’t care at all? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe they’re actually—"

I cut her off, frustration creeping into my voice. "Rya, this isn’t about attraction. It’s probably some stupid game to them, a way to mess with me. They’re probably seeing who can get the ‘fat girl’ first and have a good laugh at my expense."

Rya looked at me seriously, like she wanted to argue, but she seemed to understand that I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. "I get it. I just wanted to point out that something feels different this time."

I let out a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, if it is different, I don’t want to be part of it. They’ve always been cruel. That’s not going to change just because they want a date for the ball."

Rya sighed, clearly frustrated but still patient. “I understand, Y/N. I just want you to know that you’re worth more than their games, okay?” She gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m here for you. And this dress? It’s perfect for you.”

I took the dress she offered me, holding it against my body as I studied myself in the mirror.The royal blue dress shimmered softly under the light, its rich color catching my eye right away. The off-shoulder neckline framed my shoulders perfectly, while the fabric crossed gently over the bodice, and I knew that it was going to hug the shape of my body in just the right way. The sleeves were long and smooth, giving it an elegant feel, and the skirt flowed down from the waist, simple but beautiful as it brushed the floor. The material was soft and comfortable in my hands, with just enough weight to feel secure but not heavy. As I turned, the dress moved with me, flowing naturally and making me feel like I could wear it anywhere and still feel amazing. It wasn’t just a dress—it felt like it belonged to me.

Rya leaned against the doorframe, watching as I studied myself in the mirror. Her knowing smile made me feel both self-conscious and reassured. “You'd look incredible wearing it,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the haze of doubt clouding my mind. “You’d turn every head at the ball in that.”

I placed the dress down gently, avoiding her gaze. “I am not used to all the attention...”

She straightened, folding her arms as her tone shifted into something more persuasive. “Y/N, when are you going to stop letting their crap define what you do? You’ve always been better than that, and now? You’ve got the chance to show it.”

I sighed, running my hand over the fabric of the dress again. “It’s not that easy, Rya.”

“What is?” she shot back. “Look, if the ball feels too messy, fine. But tonight? Come out with me and Hoseok. No pressure, no expectations. Just a night to breathe, dance, and remind yourself that you’re allowed to take up space without caring what anyone else thinks.”

I hesitated, biting my lip as I looked at her. “I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for clubbing.”

She tilted her head, her smile turning sly. “Oh, please. We both know you need this. Hoseok’s got the energy of ten people, and he already said he’d buy the first round. Plus,” she added, leaning in conspiratorially, “you know you’ve been dying to see what he’s like on the dance floor.” Hoseok had mentioned that before he became a Social Media Specialist, he was owning a dance studio downtown and he was the best of them all. However, he had to shut the studio down due to lack of money. Which was unfortunate. Everyone deserved to follow their dreams.

I laughed despite myself. “Fine, maybe that’s true. But I don’t even know what I’d wear.”

Rya’s eyes lit up, sensing victory. “I’ll help you pick something out. Something killer. And trust me, when you’re out there, laughing with us, and feeling like the badass you are, you’ll be glad you said yes.”

I let out a long breath, shaking my head. “Okay, okay. I’ll come. But if Hoseok tries to drag me into one of his ridiculous dance battles, I’m blaming you.”

Her grin widened as she clapped her hands together. “Deal. Now after we chose a dress for you, let’s get you ready to turn some heads for tonight.”

The evening had settled in, and it was finally Saturday night—an evening I had been both anticipating and dreading. A few hours ago, Rya and I had spent what felt like an eternity picking out dresses. After much back-and-forth, I had found the perfect one: the royal blue dress that fit me like a glove. It shimmered softly under the light and made me feel like I was someone else—someone confident and powerful. It was a far cry from the usual clothes I’d wear, but something about it felt right and elegant.

I’d also grabbed a few other things for tonight—something a bit more casual for the club, but still fitting the vibe. Rya had promised me a good time, and I figured I might as well go with it. I hadn’t really done anything fun for myself in a long time, and the club seemed like the perfect way to break out of the monotony.

Sitting in my apartment now, I relaxed into the couch with Hades curled up beside me. I had a few hours before Rya and Hoseok would pick me up—around eleven—but the anticipation of what the night might bring was already starting to settle in my stomach. The drinks were free, the entrance was covered until midnight, and they were headed to one of the most famous clubs called "Devil's Dreads", known for its great music and even better drinks. Hoseok had practically been vibrating with excitement as soon as he heard that I was coming clubbing with him and Rya tonight, and it was hard not to get caught up in his energy.

I was just about to reach for my phone when it buzzed on the coffee table. The caller ID showed “Mom & Dad” and I smiled despite myself. I hadn’t spoken to them in a few days, and I figured it was the right time to check in.

“Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad!” I answered, sitting up and adjusting my position on the couch. Hades stirred but didn’t get up, just snuggling closer to my side.

“Y/N, my love! How are you?” my mom’s familiar voice came through the phone, warm and comforting. “You’ve been so busy lately. Have you been eating enough?”

I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry. Just work, you know? It’s been a little hectic.”

“You always say that,” my dad’s voice chimed in, his deep tone carrying an affectionate teasing. “Tell us something fun. What’s been going on with you?”

I smiled, glancing around my small apartment. “Well, actually, there’s a company masquerade a week from now. It’s for work. We’ve been working on a big project, and uh Taehyung called me and invited me to be his date since he is going as well.”

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, followed by the sound of my mom speaking quietly with my dad in their native language.

My dad’s voice came as an answer a few moments later, a little more serious now. “Y/N, we’ve known Taehyung since you were little. He’s a good man. And we’ve seen how much he cares for you.”

The weight of his words hit me unexpectedly. “I—Dad, I don’t think…” I trailed off, not knowing how to respond. I had never thought about Taehyung in that way. He was just my friend, someone who had been there for me when no one else was.

My mom’s voice softened, a tone I knew well from years of gentle guidance. “Sweetheart, sometimes the person who cares for you most is the one who’s been there for you all along. Not the ones who just chase after you when you look good in a dress.”

I let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the couch, unsure how to take their words. “Mom, I don’t know. I’m not ready for that kind of thing, especially not with Taehyung. We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to mess that up.”

There was a moment of silence, and I could almost picture my mom’s thoughtful expression. “We’re not trying to push you, darling. We just want you to be happy. But don’t close yourself off to the possibility just because you’re scared of what might happen.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat. “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly. “But for now, I’m just focused on work.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” my dad said, his voice reassuring as always. “Just remember to enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

“I’ll talk to you both soon, okay?”

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” my mom said. “And have fun at the ball. We’ll be waiting to hear all about it!”

“I love you guys, bye.” I said, hanging up the phone, feeling a mix of warmth and confusion. The conversation had been more than I expected, and now I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had said.

As I sat there in the quiet of my apartment, Hades curled up beside me once again, I found myself lost in thought. Taehyung? Could he really have feelings for me? I’d always seen him as a friend, but my parents seemed so sure. It felt like the idea came out of nowhere, and yet... maybe there was something to it.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I didn’t know if I was ready to confront that possibility, but for tonight, I had a night out with Rya and Hoseok to look forward to. Maybe I just needed to focus on that for now—enjoy myself, let loose, and stop overthinking everything.

Rya and Hoseok were picking me up in just a few hours. The drinks were free, the club was waiting, and I wasn’t going to let any of my doubts ruin the night. For once, I was going to let go and enjoy the ride.

It had been ages since I’d stepped foot into a club. The pulsating bass, the kaleidoscope of lights, the hum of people enjoying the night—it all felt foreign yet oddly thrilling. Devil’s Dreads was a sight to behold, unlike any club I’d ever been to. The VIP section on the second floor, where we were seated, offered the perfect balance of exclusivity and immersion. From here, we had a clear view of the stage bathed in fiery orange and violet hues, with sleek, futuristic lighting patterns that pulsed in time with the music. The plush, deep purple couches I sank into were ridiculously comfortable, making it feel less like a club and more like some hidden lounge in a sci-fi movie.

Looking down at the main floor, I could see the crowd moving like waves to the hypnotic beats. But up here, it was quiet enough to hold a conversation without shouting, which was a luxury I didn’t know I needed until now.

Rya was the first to order. She went all out with something bold—a sparkling martini topped with edible glitter. It matched her red short dress perfectly, shimmering under the soft light like it was made just for her. I laughed when she held it up for a dramatic toast, the red matching sequins of her dress making her look like she belonged on the stage herself. Her dirty blonde hair was curled just perfectly, lifted in a messy bun style — Pamela Anderson. And her make up did not disappoint, dark, smoky and sexy, fitting her dark blue eyes perfectly.

Hoseok, being Hoseok, opted for a vodka on ice and an old-fashioned style of outfit. It was simple, strong, and sophisticated, just like him. His black button-down shirt with those subtle gold accents caught the light in just the right way, making him look like he belonged in a magazine ad for luxury watches or cologne. He wore black ripped jeans and his hair was messily styled. He looked like an model.

And then there was me. I scanned the menu nervously, feeling the weight of their expectations. It had been so long since I’d ordered a drink at a club, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. My eyes landed on something fruity and innocent-sounding—a cocktail called Strawberry Dream. The description promised a blend of strawberries, peach, and a “whisper” of vodka. Perfect. I didn’t want to get hammered on the first drink.

But, boy, was it deceiving. Rya had managed to pick the perfect dress for me. Firstly, I never wore something so short, and secondly, I almost never was opting for dresses. Jeans were more comfortable for me, but in this case, I loved how this dress fitted me.

I felt bold and my dress definitely matched the vibe. The black mini-dress I chose hugged my curves perfectly, the structured bodice giving it a corset-like edge that made me feel powerful. The neckline was the real star, though—crisscross straps framing my shoulders and collarbones in a way that was sultry but still sophisticated. The long sleeves balanced the look, keeping it sleek and elegant, while the fabric clung just right, making me feel like the main character.

I paired it with gold hoop earrings for a touch of glam, a natural make up made by myself and my hair was curled in beautiful long curls that framed my features, which gave me this effortless, confident vibe. As I glanced at myself in the reflection of my drink, I couldn’t help but smile—I looked like I belonged in a place like this.

We didn’t waste much time lounging. Once our drinks arrived, the music pulled us in. Rya was already dragging me up to dance, and Hoseok followed close behind. It felt freeing to let go for a while, to sway to the music and laugh until my sides hurt. I sipped my cocktail in between songs, the sweetness of the drink making it go down far too easily. Before I knew it, I was on my third glass, and the room was beginning to tilt—not in a bad way, but in that warm, buzzy, I’m-gonna-regret-this-tomorrow way. -

The music was pounding through my body, the bass so heavy it felt like it was syncing with my heartbeat. Hoseok and Rya were right there with me, the three of us lost in the rhythm, moving to the beat like we didn’t have a care in the world. The alcohol buzzing through me made everything feel lighter, almost dreamlike. The edges of the room seemed to blur as I twirled under the neon lights, laughing at something Hoseok said, though I couldn’t hear a word over the music.

That’s when I felt it—a hand on my waist, warm and unfamiliar.

I turned, a little dazed, to find a man I didn’t recognize standing close. Too close. His smile was charming enough, but the way his hand lingered made my stomach twist uncomfortably. Still, the cocktails had softened my edges, and my better judgment was slow to catch up. He leaned in, his lips moving as he said something I couldn’t hear over the music. Before I knew it, I was swaying with him, letting him guide my movements.

It was harmless, right? Just a little dancing. At least, that’s what my tipsy brain told me as I let myself follow his lead. But then his hand moved lower, settling on my hip, and a quiet alarm bell rang in the back of my mind. I froze for a second, unsure what to do, but before I could even process the situation, Rya and Hoseok were already on it.

“Hey!” Rya’s voice was sharp, cutting through the music like a knife. She stepped forward, placing herself squarely between me and the guy. Her sequin-covered arm reached out, pushing his hand away from me with more force than I expected.

Hoseok wasn’t far behind, his easygoing smile replaced with something steely and firm. “She’s with us,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made it clear he wasn’t asking. “Back off.”

The man raised his hands in mock surrender, a lazy smirk on his face. “Alright, alright,” he said, backing up, but his eyes lingered on me for a second too long before he disappeared into the crowd.

I blinked, feeling the haze of alcohol and adrenaline mix into a confusing swirl. “What just happened?” I muttered, my words slurring slightly.

Rya looped an arm around my shoulders, her expression softening as she guided me back toward our booth. “You were letting some random creep get a little too close,” she said gently but firmly.

“Yeah,” Hoseok added, his tone lighter now that the guy was gone. “You’re lucky you have us to keep an eye on you.”

I let out a weak laugh, grateful but also embarrassed. “I didn’t even realize…”

“It’s the cocktails,” Rya said knowingly, giving me a reassuring smile. “That’s why we’re here, though. To make sure you’re good.”

As we made our way back to the VIP booth, I could still feel the ghost of the guy’s hand on my waist, but it was fading now, replaced by a warm sense of gratitude. Rya and Hoseok weren’t just my friends—they were my safety net. And right now, I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

I leaned back against the balcony railing, catching my breath, when the familiar face in the crowd below stopped me cold. At first, I thought it was just my tipsy brain playing tricks on me. But no. It was him.

Yoongi.

My stomach did a weird flip as I watched him stride through the main entrance like he owned the place. His tailored black blazer and crisp shirt beneath screamed confidence, and his sharp gaze scanned the crowd with ease.

His eyes landed on me—on us—and widened slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or amusement that crossed his face first, but by the time he started walking toward our booth, his signature smirk had taken over.

“What brings you all here?” he asked casually as he reached us, his voice low enough to compete with the music but still clear. He looked between the three of us, his expression unreadable.

Hoseok, ever the social butterfly, clapped him on the shoulder. “What, are we not allowed to hang out at the best place in town?”

Yoongi raised a brow, clearly entertained. “You have good taste. But from the looks of it…” He motioned toward the now-empty cocktail glasses on our table. “...you’re drinking like tourists.”

I flushed under his gaze. “Excuse me,” I said, my words slightly slurred, “but I’ll have you know this drink was amazing.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched, and he leaned in just enough to make my breath hitch. “Amazing, huh? You might want to pace yourself. Those are just the appetizers.”

It was then that it hit me. The way he carried himself, the way the staff seemed to acknowledge him without a word, the way he spoke like he owned the place…

“Wait,” I blurted out, blinking through the haze of tipsiness. “Do you… own this place?”

The smirk deepened, and he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Figured it out, did you?” He looked entirely too smug. “Welcome to Devil’s Dreads. My little slice of chaos.”

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