Chapter Text
The engine of the motorbike whirs against the asphalt. Jungkook breathes heavily, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through his veins. Nothing excites him quite the way this in particular does.
Not crisp won bills under his fingers, not the high he gets from smoking weed, and not even the feeling of another body against his own during sex. They’re all fantastic in their own right, but they don’t get his heart pumping like getting on a bike and speeding past city lights until it all blurs into the background.
Jungkook takes off his helmet, and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. The air feels cool against his face now, making him feel energized all over again as he breathes it in. He looks down then, and gently pats the oil tank of his bike, almost as if it were a precious living pet.
“We did well today, didn't we, Thunder?” He whispers, smiling down at it.
The rush from finishing first is still simmering in his veins, and his pockets are freshly refilled. It should last him a week comfortably. It’s been a pretty good day.
He lets out a soft sigh, palm gently sliding back and forth over the oil tank. What would he have done, if it wasn’t for his beloved bike?
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Jungkook stops by the convenience store first thing. He's been starving since before the race started, and now that he has his pockets filled, he wants to treat himself to something nice.
He rummages through the shelves, looking for something different — perhaps a little fancier than the usual. His eyes start twinkling when he finds the slightly pricier full meal set. He deserves this, just tonight.
He's eyed it a few times before when he was here.
It's usually either instant noodles or a plain home cooked meal with simple sides and some kimchi his mom sent him weeks ago. And while he doesn't mind them, every once in a while he craves something nicer.
He reaches out to get it, but just as he's about to, he suddenly starts to second guess his decision. If he doesn't buy it and settles for the usual ramyeon, he could save some money which could go towards his other expenses.
Jungkook bites down on his lip, retracting his hand, contemplating. His stomach rumbles, and his mind fills up with thoughts of paying for all the other things he still needs to take care of.
The remainder of this month's rent, more fuel for his bike, groceries and some extra money for this photographer he's meeting, because he wants to get some more shots for his portfolio.
Jungkook smiles to himself then, walks ahead and takes a sharp turn to reach the usual shelf holding his usual noodles instead. He picks up a cheap bowl of instant ramyeon, and makes a beeline for the counter without thinking too much about it.
Jungkook pays for it, walks over to the self service counter and adds some hot water to it. He stirs it with his chopsticks and proceeds to walk outside to sit at one of the tables and eat his dinner. On second thought though, he quickly walks back in and treats himself to a small carton of juice, and it doesn't hike his total up by much which is a good thing.
Jungkook finally takes a seat outside, digging into the bowl with his chopsticks. He pulls up a portion, and then eats it, closing his eyes as the hot flavorful noodles touch his tongue.
It feels like his gut immediately comes alive, and it feels so rewarding to eat after a long day.
Jungkook looks around and observes people and buildings and trees to entertain himself as he eats, chewing as he mentally makes up a backstory for each person that passes by.
That is, until his eyes land on a distant billboard, high up and illuminated for everyone to see. It's an advertisement for a skincare brand, and the focus is on some model who's holding the product in his hand.
Jungkook knows him. The guy is fast climbing up the ranks in the modeling industry and is doing pretty well. And it fills Jungkook with envy, because he wants that for himself too.
Jungkook might not be rich or have a good job yet, but if there's one department he's confident he excels in, it's the one concerning looks. Jungkook knows he's handsome, he believes the compliments when they’re thrown his way and he knows he'd make a good model.
Once he makes it, he can finally expect just enough money to start flowing in for him to not feel guilty about occasional splurging. Maybe then he can buy the fancy meal set without worrying about rent.
Until then, he'll keep looking for better gigs than the ones he currently gets.
He's almost done eating, now drinking from his little juice carton when he notices somebody carrying their food in a way that could cause it to spill, and they're doing it right next to his bike.
“Excuse me, please be careful.” Jungkook smiles and points at his bike. “My bike’s right there.”
The person looks at the bike, adjusts himself and promptly bows in apology, going on their way. Jungkook bows back, and then inspects his bike again. A little older now, worn out in places, but still his favorite companion. His Thunder.
Jungkook was twenty three when he had finally managed to save up enough to get himself a bike of his own. Since then, he has loved it like his life depended on it.
He wasn’t rich by any means – not even close, but even at his lowest, after quitting his job and with no savings, he didn't regret spending on the bike. It was one of his only escapes from the mundane, often harsh realities of life.
He couldn't afford his dream bike at the time, but the one he has, which he lovingly calls Thunder, is a part of his soul now. It's seen his highs and his lows with him in the past five years. And while it's getting a little old now, he still adores it.
He still remembers the day he came to Seoul for the first time, to finally realise his dream of becoming a model. He carried a backpack and a tiny suitcase with him, all loaded onto this very bike. He vividly remembers scouring through the alleyways of the city, looking for a goshiwon or a cheap studio apartment that he could afford to live in.
And Jungkook very distinctly remembers the day he was riding on the wide, endless roads of Seoul, feeling like a free bird who was finally ready to take flight.
It’s quite late at night by the time he's done eating. Jungkook leaves the convenience store and heads to his next destination without wasting much time.
Some ten minutes later, he parks his bike outside the tall, slightly shabby looking building in a not-so-fancy part of the city, and gets off of it. Most rooms are dark, but some windows of the building still have light coming out of them. He makes sure the money is secure in his pocket, and leaves all the stories of his evening behind at the door the moment he steps inside.
Not everyone here can know.
Jungkook greets a few people as soon as he's in, and on his way up the stairs. His destination is the second floor, and it takes him around two minutes until he's stepping through the door of a small room in the corner of said floor.
“Hyung!” Jungkook shuts the door behind himself, and drops his voice to a whisper. “Guess how much I made today.”
Jung Hoseok, one of Jungkook's two closest friends in the city, looks up at him with a warm, welcoming smile. “How much? A million won?”
Jungkook scrunches his nose, but the light in his eyes doesn’t dim down. “Well… not really. I only made around 700k won. And I spent some on dinner. But that's good enough for a week!” He pulls a chair closer, and sits down on it. “I wish I could start making regular money with my modeling gigs… but if honestly, I've started to lose hope.”
“Jungkook-ah!” Hoseok playfully rebukes. “That is one thing I won't allow. You know you've got what it takes. You've got the face, the body and the skills. You just need one proper opportunity.”
“It's going to be a year, hyung.” Jungkook chuckles, but he doesn't really sound happy. “I've been trying and trying but the best I've done so far is a commercial for a cough syrup. And the advertisement didn't even make it. I– why am I undertaking projects that I have to act in? I don’t even want to be an actor!”
Hoseok sighs. “Hey. In your defense, you were stunning in it. Okay? Jimin thought so too! And besides… a lot of models start this way. Nobody cares if you can’t act.”
“Nobody cares if the guy drinking cough syrup is stunning either, hyung.” Jungkook snorts. “They care about what's in the bottle. I want to be so good at it that one day, people look at me more than they look at the brands, you know. Not that I'm really interested in commercials all that much, but still… I’m just saying. Maybe… maybe I'm just past the age—”
“Shut up, you don't even look twenty eight.” Hoseok says. “You look twenty five. Maximum.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “I should have quit that job and come to Seoul earlier.”
“You will be on the runway and on magazine covers one day, I promise you.” Hoseok reassures him. “And on billboards. You’re still young and are booming with potential.”
Jungkook is grateful for how Hoseok always helps keep his spirits high.
Hoseok works at this modeling agency in the city. It's not huge, and the current location is a little dingy and dilapidated alright, but it's quickly building a reputation up for itself. Hoseok always finds him gigs here and there. Hoseok’s best friend, Jimin, came as part of a package deal, and Jungkook wouldn't change it for the world.
They've both been incredibly helpful and caring, almost like Jungkook was their own little brother.
It was Hoseok, who had told him a month after they met, how he thought Jungkook would be excellent at bike racing. Hoseok wasn't involved in it himself, but he knew someone who was.
When Jungkook heard that he could make money off of it, he immediately jumped the gun. It was only later that he realised that the racing wasn’t exactly legal when Hoseok further explained it to him, but by then, he was already warming up to the idea of the money he would be making.
Jungkook was desperate and broke, and modelling wasn't exactly paying the bills. And at such a point in life, one doesn’t really care about the legal aspect of their money-making means.
That’s how he came to become one of the best bike racers Seoul has ever seen. Once he started, it was impossible to stop. It wasn’t an insane amount of money, but it covered all his needs, and to Jungkook, it was enough until he could finally become a model and start making a living off of his dream job instead.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Jungkook is hunched over the throttle of his bike, logged into his instagram account. He doesn't really post a lot or use it to catch up with what other people are doing with their lives, and neither does he care that much.
All he does is occasionally put up some pictures of himself, his bike or the places he visits. Sometimes, he posts photos he really likes of himself from photoshoots. It serves as his portfolio and a way to connect with potential employers.
But the main function of his instagram account is to lurk.
He uses his account mostly to browse and look at things he likes. He sighs as he refreshes the one account he loves coming back to after a long day, or whenever he’s had a shitty one.
Vante.
Vante, the artist who posts exquisite, unmatched artwork on his instagram page. Jungkook found the account randomly while mindlessly scrolling through his feed almost a year ago, and was instantly captivated by the art on his page.
It helped him distract himself one particularly difficult night when he was still very new to Seoul, and that etched Vante into his heart.
Jungkook remembers it vividly.
He still can’t believe how talented this person is, and looking through Vante’s feed has always made the outside world disappear for a while. Jungkook can just get lost in those artworks and forget how ghastly real life can be, and that feeling was easy to get addicted to, even early on.
Vante’s account features paintings and sketches that have been posted over the years, one after the other, depicting the human body in all its glory. While the artworks feature nature, sceneries and still objects from time to time, they mostly depict the human form.
And while Vante always mentions that the artworks were referenced from memory or imagination, it always seems so anatomically accurate, vivid and lifelike that Jungkook always half-expects them to walk right out of his phone screen.
Vante is just that good, and their art always pulls him in. Even now.
It comes very close to how riding a bike or being in front of the camera makes him feel, just in a very different way. Jungkook has never told anyone about this little obsession he has, not even Hoseok or Jimin.
Surprisingly, Vante is completely anonymous, and nobody knows the real identity of the artist behind the masterpieces. They seem to prefer keeping it that way, because the comments that ask or mention anything related to their personal details or a face reveal always get ignored.
Despite that, they've managed to amass a few million followers over the years.
The only things they've publicly mentioned on their profile are the fact that they're based in South Korea and are a millennial — which is frankly quite vague.
Jungkook has never been bothered by the anonymity, though. He appreciates that Vante always sets boundaries clearly.
Until now.
It’s been three months since Vante’s last post. Art takes time to make, and Jungkook understands that. Vante usually posts an artwork every week or every two weeks, and he happily and patiently waits for the next one like it’s an episode of a show he’s hooked on to.
But the artist has never gone this long without posting, and it worries Jungkook a little. Because Vante is anonymous and they have no other place they exist on the internet except an online gallery sans any contact details, it is impossible to reach out to them.
There was no explanation, no reasoning… Vante just went quiet, for three whole months! It's not like they owe anyone an explanation, and Jungkook isn’t exactly parasocial, but he really wants to know.
Lips pressed together, and a soft sigh escaping past them, Jungkook looks through Vante’s feed again.
Paintings of hands, feet, waists, thighs, ribs, bellies… Sometimes, the paintings are much more intimate, and they never depict faces or any identifiable features, but Jungkook loves it all.
He isn’t really an art connoisseur – isn’t privileged enough to be. But if he knows one thing for sure, it’s that Vante is his favorite artist.
Someday, maybe he'll be lucky enough to own a framed painting by them.
He loves being in front of the camera, posing, but Vante makes him wonder what it would be like to pose for an artist. He never dwells on the thought for too long, though. It feels too intimate to explore.
“Come on…” He whispers, fingers hovering over the painting of a toned male abdomen. “Post an update. Something… anything.”
Of course, Vante doesn’t magically hear Jungkook and come out of the self-imposed hiatus. And even though that is expected, Jungkook purses his lips and huffs softly.
He has always commented on the posts, complimenting the artwork and letting all his thoughts out in the form of genuine, heartfelt praise. Vante has liked his comments every single time, but never responded with one. But Jungkook doesn’t mind, because Vante never responds to anyone.
Today, however, Jungkook is feeling a little extra desperate. And a comment probably won’t cut it anyway.
He contemplates it for a while. And then, he clicks on the ‘message’ option, and starts typing.
Hi, Vante. :) I absolutely love your art and think you're so incredibly talented. I hope you're doing well. I miss seeing your art on my feed. It always makes me feel like I’m watching the subject up close. Always captivates me. I was just wondering if everything was okay with you… No pressure, though. Take your time. I'll be eagerly waiting.
— Vante’s biggest fan. (Please don't cringe at that haha.)
Jungkook locks the screen, and pockets his phone. He knows Vante won't reply, but sending that message makes him feel infinitely better. At least he was able to channel some of his feelings out.
He's about to put his helmet back on and go on a long ride, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. Jungkook pats it, and then fishes it back out to check what caused it.
His eyes nearly pop out when he reads the text on the white, translucent bar across his screen.
Vante liked your message.
Jungkook's eyes widen significantly, heart immediately thumping in his chest. A gasp escapes past his lips before they pull into an excited smile. It’s a little hard to believe that Vante interacted with a direct message — Jungkook’s message, and yet, the proof is right in front of him. He quickly taps on the notification, just to read what he sent again.
But his heart skips another beat when he sees that Vante is actually typing out a reply. Jungkook lets out a soft sigh of disbelief and surprise. Vante types for a bit, but then it stops. Jungkook frowns, bites down on his lip and wonders if Vante changed their mind and opted not to reply.
Then, Jungkook ponders the possibility of Vante checking his profile out.
He quickly exits the chat window just in case, because he doesn't want it to look like he's sitting around just waiting for the reply. Instead, he looks at his own profile, and tries to get an idea of what Vante would see.
Jungkook reads his instagram bio quickly. Jungkook. 28. Seoul. Model. DM for shoots/ads.
It sounds like a less sophisticated version of LinkedIn, and he internally cringes. But then again, Instagram is what most models in his circle use for work. And because he’s so fond of Vante’s work, he wants them to have a good impression of him. It doesn’t matter that they’re never going to meet in real life.
When the reply comes a minute later, Jungkook excitedly exits his profile page and back to the message section, clicking on the unread text instead. He almost screeches, even though it's something very short and simple.
Thank you. Maybe I will soon.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
When Jungkook started taking part in illegal bike races, he always knew in the back of his mind that trouble was always in the realm of possibility. He's always expected it, but luckily, things have worked out in his favor so far.
There have been no kinks or bumps whatsoever — until now.
He's just meters away from the point where the racing always starts, but today, he doesn't hear excited cheers or smell euphoria in the air. Instead, the air is echoing with police sirens, and panicked noises.
His hands freeze on the handbrakes, and Jungkook stills, eyes going wide as he takes in the sight before him. It’s disquieting, and he can’t even react to it immediately. It takes a while before the adrenaline finally kicks in, and he turns his bike around and flees.
He knows shit has hit the fan. His heart both pounds against his ribcage as well as sinks down to his stomach. Tears sting his eyes as he rides down the road. Every time the sirens get louder, he thinks this might be it and his pulse quickens, the adrenaline rush getting stronger.
He makes a sharp turn when he’s driving through a relatively desolated area, and some ten minutes in, he thinks he's finally made an escape and is in the clear. Jungkook pulls up to the side lined with a dense tree cover, panting as he's nearly out of breath. His heart has been in his mouth this whole time, and only now is his body starting to calm down a little.
That was such a close call.
Then, in the distance, he hears the sound of a running vehicle. His heartbeat picks up again, as he looks up to spot a big, black car fast approaching him from the opposite end of the road.
Jungkook doesn't know who's inside, but he's so nervous right now that his heart lurches out of place inside his chest anyway and he starts to imagine the worst possible scenarios.
What if there’s a high profile investigation team in there? They must know about the illegal races and are probably headed that way, and Jungkook is a biker trying to flee. He looks every bit the part right now too, perched on Thunder and wearing a leather jacket, helmet and fingerless gloves.
It's over. He's finished.
He's done for.
He feels sweat drops rolling down his temples underneath the helmet. His fingers feel cold and clammy, and he feels like his knees are about to give out but he stays still, trying to brace himself. The worst case scenario inside his head intensifies when the car slows down. Jungkook watches the glass being rolled down, and tightens his fingers over the handbrake.
So this is how he goes to jail, and how his life is over before it even begins.
He starts to mentally bid goodbye to his modeling career, and tries to come up with an explanation that he’d surely need to give his parents soon.
But a harmless looking guy peeks out, and waves at him, as if trying to get his attention.
“Excuse me!” He peers at Jungkook on the nearly dark road. “Would you happen to know if this road leads to the Changgyeon company building?”
Upon hearing that, Jungkook feels air rush back into his lungs. They just want directions. His heart finally slips back into place, and he heaves a sigh of relief.
Trying to sound nonchalant, he nods, and points backwards with his thumb. “Yeah, you're… you're on the right way.”
“Thank you.” The man smiles, rolls the window back up, and then the car is on its way.
Jungkook lets out a huge exhale, slouching over the throttle in relief. He feels like he might just cry. Now that the adrenaline has subsided and he's been still for a few minutes, his heartbeat starts to slow down again.
Today, he didn't get caught. But if there's one thing he's coming to realise, it's that he cannot continue the illegal racing anymore. At least not for the time being.
A regular car just going on its way managed to scare the shit out of him without even meaning to, and this is something Jungkook doesn't want to feel again. He doesn’t want to constantly walk on eggshells.
However, the decision makes him a little sad. No racing means no extra money, and he's got to figure something else out or cement his modelling career into place as soon as he can.
This upcoming race would have paid for his necessities for the coming week at least. Jungkook doesn't know what to do. Panicking and upset, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to speak to Hoseok, but Hoseok is already calling him.
“Hyung!” Jungkook nearly cries into the phone as he receives the call and presses his phone to his ear. “Did- did you hear?”
“I just heard! I'm so sorry, Jungkook.” Hoseok sighs. “It seems like someone tipped them off and the police cracked down on them. I don't think they'll even hold those races for a while now.”
Jungkook sighs, unable to speak. The phone still pressed to his ear, he buries his face in his palm.
“Jungkook-ah, we’ll find a nice gig for you. We'll push harder and search better. Don't worry.” Hoseok tells him. “Why don't you come over tonight or tomorrow? Me and Jimin can sit with you and we can look for new gigs for you together. Plus I think you'd feel better if we can all hang out?”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah I'll… I'll let you know when I drop by. Thanks, hyung. I'm really bummed. I don't know what to do— this is so sudden.”
“Hey, I can lend you some money—”
“No, hyung. You know I can't take it.” Jungkook looks down and traces a finger over the oil tank, lips curling downwards as they jut out a little. “I've… got to make it on my own.”
Hoseok sighs. “I get that, but if money’s really tight, you know I have your back, right? Me and Jimin, both of us do. Don't hesitate to ask if worse comes to worst, okay?”
Jungkook nods again, even though they're on the phone and Hoseok can't see him. “I’ll think about it. Bye, hyung.”
He hangs up, slips his phone into his pocket, and then sits on his bike for a few seconds, just thinking about what to do and where to go from here. He's cash strapped as it is, and now, his only proper source of money is gone.
Modeling obviously hasn't really been working out either, and he's absolutely in a fix about what to do next. Jungkook hopes for some kind of miracle, because at this point, it's the only thing that can turn his situation around.
He looks down at his bike, gently rubs the oil tank, and sighs. “It's over, Thunder. But we’ll make it, right?”
He spends some more time there, just sitting still on his bike and allowing himself room to breathe. Once he's had his fill of fresh air, he takes off on his bike and heads home.
That night, he lies awake in bed for a long time. He's in distress, wondering just how he's going to manage the coming few days. He really doesn't want to borrow money from Hoseok or Jimin.
They've done enough for him already. He can't possibly ask for or burden them any more.
Jungkook ends up consuming a bottle of soju that gets him drunk and a little out of it for a while. He watches a movie mindlessly, eyes looking through the screen rather than at it. Even that doesn't help.
The only thing he finds solace in, as usual, is looking through Vante’s account again. Even though he's already seen all the paintings dozens of times before and there’s nothing new on there, he still scrolls through the page. Jungkook refreshes the page out of habit, hoping that something pops up.
It doesn't.
He thinks back to the reply he received the other day, feels better momentarily, and opens up their chat. Jungkook reads his own message again, and then Vante’s. It brings a little weary smile to his face.
Hope. It feels like hope. Maybe Vante will paint again. Maybe Jungkook will get to see it.
Maybe Jungkook will do just fine. Maybe somehow, he'll receive the money he needs. Perhaps something will work out for him.
Lost in his thoughts, he slides his thumb across the screen. If he was sober, he would stop to wonder if sending another message would be too much. It would perhaps be an overkill, he would conclude, in his right mind.
There's absolutely no reason to message Vante right now. Sure, they're his favorite artist and it is his comfort page, but what do they have to do with Jungkook's situation?
Vante doesn't even know him.
But Jungkook is not in his right mind. He is sloshed and feeling extremely vulnerable, emotions all bubbling on the surface and threatening to spill out. He isn't thinking straight, and access to social media and the internet makes it so easy to convey what one wants to say anyway.
So damn easy.
He starts to type a message out, but it's so hard to not make typos when he's drunk.
“F-fuck.” He curses at the screen, and then just tosses his phone aside in annoyance. “Why can't I type? I know how to type.”
Jungkook puts an arm above his eyes to cover them and lets out a soft sigh. He stays that way for a few seconds, before the urge comes right back. Immediately, he reaches out to pat his bedsheet and look for his phone.
He finds and grabs it, sits up and in a moment of alcohol-fueled impulse, Jungkook opens up the chat again. He presses the camera icon next to the message bar, without really thinking what he's doing.
The front camera opens up, and for some reason, a very inebriated Jungkook thinks this is a good idea.
“Hello? Yeah- hello.” He looks into the camera. “I don't even know why… why I'm saying this to you—” He softly sighs, looking to the side. “I just think you should paint again. You're so good. Why'd you stop? Don't… don't stop. Please.”
He tries to say something else, but the timer gives up and the video that he just recorded starts replaying on his screen instead. Jungkook scoffs, presses send to get rid of it, and then taps the record button again, muttering curses under his breath.
“That was too short… anyway. I hope you don't think this is too much?” He mumbles, looking into the camera. “If you do, I-I…. sincerely apologise.”
His eyes turn all big and shiny and soft as he stares at the camera, searching for words. They start watering a little too.
“You… your art makes me so happy. Right now, I'm sad. I'm super sad. I don't know how to pay rent or buy groceries, but looking at your art…” Jungkook exhales wearily. “It makes me forget about the difficult stuff… for a while. If you get to do what you love, you should do it. You should do it… Like I ride my bike as often as I can.”
The video cuts off again.
Jungkook sends that one too, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he presses the record button one more time, still pointing the front camera at himself. The sheer foolishness or impending implications associated with what he’s doing still doesn’t occur to him.
“Anyway, thank you. F-for sharing your… your art.” Jungkook continues, nodding. “I’m a little drunk, heh. But it’s not like this is illegal, right? I’m just telling you that I really appreciate you. I’m a model… or, I’m trying to be.” He frowns, and looks at the wall. “I could model for you. I would… if I knew who you were. But I don’t. So...”
A second later, he laughs, a little embarrassed. “That’s… sorry. That’s silly. I only model for the c-camera… I don't—” He chuckles again, and yawns. “I'm sleepy. You– you have a good night. Okay? You're the best. You're so talented. I’m a little jealous, hah. Would you teach me to paint? But you’re busy… anyway.”
Saying so, Jungkook stares off into the distance for a few seconds, before abruptly pressing the stop button and sending the video in as well.
He feels pretty content after the emotional word vomit, and locks his phone screen. His chest feels lighter, and all the agony that was pent up owing to the events of the evening has been released. He slides his phone aside, lies back down, and closes his eyes.
It doesn't take him long to drift off to sleep after that.
Around four hours later, sunlight starts to filter into his little room. And when seven hours have passed since his drunken shenanigans, he finally stirs awake.
Jungkook’s head feels extra heavy when he's up, and he wakes up with a searing headache and a wave of nausea right after he opens his eyes. He sits up in bed, stomach rumbling and yet, the thought of eating anything makes him retch. He rubs his eyes, stretches a little and runs his hand through his hair.
Maybe he should order something greasy to get rid of the hangover, but he also needs to be extra frugal right now, he thinks. It’s such a dilemma.
He sits still for a few moments and just allows himself to adjust to being awake. Eyes still puffy, he reaches for his phone so he can check the time, and sees that it’s a few minutes past 8 AM on the lock screen itself. Jungkook swipes up to unlock his phone, and when the screen underneath reveals itself, he nearly drops it.
All the sleepiness vanishes at once.
Jungkook senses dread filling his chest as he is faced with the three videos he seems to have sent Vante last night when he was drunk.
Videos. Not even simple messages, Three damn videos, and to Vante, at that.
“What the fuck?” Jungkook panics, fingers trembling as his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. “What the fuck did I do? Fuck.”
Worst of all are the three words sitting under the last video he sent.
Seen 4h ago.
They literally make him wish the ground beneath his feet would crack and swallow him whole. What even is the point of anything anymore?
He scrolls up and starts playing the first video he sent. The first few words he hears coming out of his mouth are enough to make him cringe and immediately press the back button. Without thinking it through, Jungkook clicks the ‘unsend’ option for each video.
Just like that, within seconds, they’re gone. But they’re only gone from his phone.
Once he’s done that, he quickly checks if Vante has blocked him after these antics – thankfully, he can still access the profile and view all their posts. Jungkook sighs in relief, but then his shoulders slouch.
Jungkook realises that his jacket was unbuttoned too, and it makes him want to kick himself. What if they think he was sending them a thirst trap? That would definitely not be a good look.
The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets in his head. The mortification absolutely annihilates him for a while. Jungkook lets out a string of curses under his breath, because he doesn't know how else to let the embarrassment out.
He grabs a fistful of his own hair in frustration, and groans as he falls back on the bed.
How could he possibly let himself do this?!
But then, he realises that he can just apologize in the form of a text message. It won’t undo the embarrassment or remove the videos from Vante’s inbox, but it could at the very least make Vante think he’s not a complete idiot. The thought of bothering Vante again makes him hesitate, but Jungkook knows he needs to do this.
Sort of damage control, Jungkook thinks. He can’t just leave it at three drunk videos. It's not like he's ever going to personally know Vante, but Jungkook still wants to be in their good books. Vante is his favorite artist, after all. Jungkook doesn't want to ruin their one-sided, virtual artist-fan bond, as stupid as that sounds.
So, with shaky fingers, he starts typing a message. It takes him a total of five minutes to write, undo, write again and finally decide on the final text message before charily pressing send.
He reads it after it goes through, just to make sure he didn't fuck up here as well.
Hey, I'm extremely sorry about the videos I accidentally sent you last night. It was not intentional and I didn't realise the sheer stupidity of what I had done until this morning. I was quite drunk and a little upset, and hence ended up confiding in you. I really respect and admire you, and I am deeply apologetic about the mistake. I hope you can look past it.
Please have a good day.
Jungkook sighs then, putting his phone aside. He buries his face in his hand, still ridden with embarrassment. This has to be one of the most royally fucked up stunts he's pulled, and he isn’t sure if there’s any coming back from them. He hopes that his message at least alleviates the situation a bit.
“Never again.” Jungkook whispers to himself, shaking his head, and meaning each word. “I'm never touching alcohol in my life ever again.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Two days later, he meets up with Hoseok and Jimin.
“If you land this gig, Jungkook…” Jimin looks him in the eye, a serious expression on his face. “You're going to become a superstar. An overnight sensation.”
Jungkook scoffs. “I am not going to advertise a condom brand, hyung. Not as my first foray into the public eye. Do you want me to be forever known as the condom guy?”
“The ad is super creative, hilarious and catchy and you are handsome!” Jimin frowns, aggressively pointing at Jungkook's nose with his index finger. “It's guaranteed to become a hit. All their previous ads were.”
Jungkook sighs. “Hyung. You know that I don't even want to do commercials. I want to be on… on magazines. Fancy photoshoots. Billboards… I want to feel like the main subject and focus.”
Jimin scoffs. “You certainly love being the center of attention, don't you?”
Jungkook quirks a brow and tilts his head. “More than I let on.”
“But you really need this right now, Jungkookie.” Jimin sounds worried. “What if the stuff about the illegal bike races gets back to these circles? Just take what you get and build a good portfolio first.”
Hoseok walks into the room at that very moment, carrying three cardboard containers of piping hot noodles and three pairs of chopsticks. The aroma instantly fills the room and Jungkook feels his mouth salivating at the sight. He is also relieved that they don’t have to have that upsetting conversation anymore.
“Good! I was fucking starving.” Jungkook says, taking one of the containers from Hoseok’s hands before he can even set them down on the table. “I love this.”
Hoseok blinks at him as he sits down. “Thank you, Hoseok hyung. You’re so lovely, Hoseok hyung…” He says, and then replies to it. “You’re welcome, Jungkookie.”
Jimin laughs as he takes the first bite. Jungkook, already stuffing his mouth with food is too busy to respond.
“Look at this brat.” Hoseok points at him, and looks at Jimin. “This little ungrateful shit.”
Jungkook laughs too, gorging on his food. His brows pull together then, and he taps the table a few times. “So good. This is so good. Thanks, hyung.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes but smiles fondly, breaking his chopsticks apart. He digs into one of the containers, and then looks at Jungkook again.
“So? The condom ad?” Hoseok asks. “What do you think?”
Jungkook's shoulders slump visibly. “I don't know. I just… what if it goes through?”
Hoseok frowns. “Isn't that what you want? For it to go through and make it to national TV?”
“Yes but… a condom ad!” Jungkook half laughs. “I just… I don't want my first ad to be a condom ad.”
“There's one for a pill that cures indigestion…” Jimin begins. “Although now I think I know your answer already.”
Jungkook sighs. “I'm sorry. Thanks for trying but… shouldn't it be memorable? My first ad?”
Jimin and Hoseok look at him, then at each other, and then nod.
“You know what? You're right.” Jimin says. “I guess I just wanted you to have work desperately but… you shouldn't accept just anything.”
Jungkook nods. “Exactly. Thank you.”
“We'll keep looking.” Hoseok pats his shoulder. “Don't worry, okay?
Jungkook doesn't nod along, or agree. He's a little terrified, if he's being honest, even if it doesn't show right now. He's had some time to let it sink in, and he's accepted the situation for what it is.
However, he still needs to find a way to make money, and that worry is looming over his head. He doesn't want to burden his friends with it more than he already has, though. So Jungkook is determined to figure something out on his own.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Jungkook is about to put his helmet on, when he hears footsteps walk up behind him. Alert and wary, he slowly turns around, mentally preparing himself to beat the shit out of whoever it is if they try to attack him or something.
He's more than capable of it.
As he turns to look at who it is, he finds his brows furrowing. There's two men, dressed in black suits, standing side by side. One of them seems to be taller than Jungkook, and the other shorter. They have neutral expressions on their faces, and it's hard to tell what they want.
The dark sunglasses don't help either. So, Jungkook just asks.
“What… do you want?”
“Are you Jeon Jungkook-ssi?” The taller one asks.
The air around him suddenly seems to drop a degree. Something cold crawls up Jungkook's skin as he eyes the two of them carefully.
“Why?” His eyes shuttle between the two of them. “Who are you?”
Ignoring his question, the shorter one pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, and goes through something written on it before looking back up. “We hear you're in need of money?”
Jungkook's stomach knots. Who are these people? How do they know all of this? He wonders if he's in trouble and has a feeling they know about the illegal bike racing too, and that could quite literally spell doom for him, because they don’t look like just anyone.
“Um, what exactly do you want from me?” Jungkook clenches his fists, ready to throw a blow if things get out of hand.
“Actually, we don’t want anything. Our boss does.” The tall man says. “If you could come with us, he will explain everything to you. Whether you accept his proposal or not is up to you, of course.”
At that, Jungkook relaxes a bit. He studies their faces for a few seconds, carefully assessing them before he speaks again. “And… what kind of proposal is this boss of yours making?”
“He wants to hire you for one of his… well, endeavours.” The man continues. “You will be given handsome compensation. Monetary, of course. However, you must sign an NDA if you agree to come with us.”
That part takes Jungkook by surprise, and makes him nervous at the same time. “NDA? Why?”
“Because this is all supposed to be confidential.” The short guy explains. “However, it is 100% safe. The boss asked us to assure you. It's completely your choice in the end, and you won’t be coerced into anything.”
Jungkook blinks, still confused as hell, unsure if he should be terrified. “Okay…?”
“However, he'd really like to see you, if you agree.” One of the men adds. “He's really looking forward to it.”
“Who— How does he even know me?” Jungkook frowns, using his hands as he speaks. “And what is he… some kind of mobster? I'm not going to lie, this is starting to make me a little uncomfortable.”
The two men exchange looks, and then turn to Jungkook again, before the taller one speaks.
“You’ll get a million won per meeting with him.”
Jungkook's eyes pop out when he hears that, fingers freezing over the handbrakes.
Did they just say a million won?
Everything runs through his head all at once — the nearly non-existent modeling gigs, the problems with racing, and all the struggles he's been facing lately because of the lack of money.
A million won per meeting. That’s a shit ton of money.
“What would I have to do in these… meetings?” Even asking it out loud feels strange to Jungkook. “What kind of meetings would these be? Because if it's some kind of shady sexual thing, then you're barking up the wrong tree. I’ll pass, and shame on your boss for asking.”
The two men exchange glances again.
“Uh, no. Not even close. This whole arrangement is not of a sexual nature. It's kind of… modeling? You'd have to model for him.” The shorter one nods. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”
Jungkook's brows shoot up. “You couldn't have led with that?” He chuckles, the tension releasing from his shoulders immediately. “Why didn't your boss talk to me himself? And why does this all have to be so sketchy?”
“Well, he's… extremely busy. And it's better that he doesn't directly handle this unless you're ready to meet him.” One of the men provides. “And if you're doubting the legitimacy of this deal, like our boss suspected you might… he's ready to wire you the first million. Provided you go through with the first meeting.”
Jungkook scoffs, but if he's being honest, he's a little swayed by it. His bank balance is about to hit zero, and he's quite desperate at the moment. That must be why he takes the bait willingly, fully aware that the consequences might be dire.
“Um. Okay…?” Jungkook frowns, half-convinced that no money is going to be wired to him.
The tall man pulls out his phone, and starts tapping on the screen.
“Although, I don't feel comfortable sharing my banking—” Jungkook begins, but his words are cut off by the sharp dinging of his phone in his pocket. His heart thumps in his chest, eyes shuttling between the two men.
There's no way.
He reaches into his pocket, pulls his phone out and checks the screen. Indeed, there's a legitimate message from his bank sitting on his screen, notifying him of the amount credited. But Jungkook is sweating a little.
Firstly, because of how bizarre and unreal all of this feels. And secondly, because these people already happened to have his banking details. The money is now in his bank, and he has to go through with this meeting. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks up.
“Seriously. Who are you people?”
“I think the question you need to be asking is… who our boss is.” The short man tells him. “And you're going to find out soon enough.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Jungkook soon finds himself inside a big, black car on his way to who knows where. He parked his bike inside the building before leaving, because the only place he trusts it to be safe apart from himself is with Hoseok and Jimin.
He told them he had to be somewhere, and while they were puzzled as to why he had to leave his bike behind, luckily they didn't ask many questions. Jungkook isn’t exaggerating when he thinks he might have separation anxiety because of Thunder.
He's nervous now, or maybe a little cold, or perhaps both. The air conditioning inside the car makes it a little chilly, and Jungkook has to curl in on himself a little.
It's strange. He's freely sitting here, between those two men, and yet, feels like he's being taken to prison or something. They had him read and sign an agreement after he got in the car, and according to it, he can't tell a single soul about any of this.
At this point, he knows better than to question what would happen if he were to violate the terms. This person they call their boss is clearly wealthy. Swimming in money. And such people aren't to be taken lightly. They have everything on their side. Money, power, connections. Jungkook looks down at his hands, wondering just what awaits him, when the car makes a turn.
He looks outside, and notices that the skyscrapers have given way to smaller, more sparse buildings on either side of the road.
Jungkook notices more and more trees springing up, and the landscape growing greener the further they go. They’re headed outside the main part of Seoul clearly, as suggested by their surroundings. Jungkook grows more anxious by the second, and becomes more convinced that perhaps this was the wrong call.
He’s not feeling very good about this right now, if he’s being honest.
He could have just found some other way to make money rather than whatever this is. He already regrets it, but it doesn’t seem wise to throw a fit right now after he willingly came with them. So he just sits quietly, unsure if he’s even allowed to use his phone. They didn’t say that he’s forbidden from using it, but he'd rather not risk it. This seems highly confidential, all of it. Jungkook wants to go and come back in one piece.
It takes them an hour to get to their destination. The strangest part of this entire exchange is that when they get closer to the city, a blindfold is tied around his eyes, and he’s given a face mask which he puts on. It’s when he really freaks out. However, he keeps acting calm and like he isn’t on the verge of having a mental breakdown.
When one of them reassures him that he’s safe and asks him not to worry, Jungkook feels slightly more at ease, but overall, it’s still not a very good feeling and he’d rather be at home right now.
He understands why, though. Perhaps, they want to maintain the secrecy of the location. He’s guided out by the same two men, since he can’t see with the blindfold on. It makes him feel like he’s in fifty fucking shades of grey, but he doesn’t say anything.
Whoever this wealthy dude is, he must have a screw loose, Jungkook thinks. He’s led inside a house of some kind. Jungkook can tell because the temperature around him suddenly drops, like it happens when one steps indoors. He’s led through what seems like an endless path, before they sit him down on a chair.
“Boss will be here shortly.” One of the two men tells him. “Please wait here, and do not take the blindfold off until he lets you or asks you to. You can take the mask off, though. Keep it for later, when you have to exit.”
Jungkook nods, pulling the mask down and shoving it into a pocket.
“Again, please remember to never speak of this place to anyone.” One of them informs him. “Boss wanted us to make sure you know that.”
“Okay.” Jungkook gulps.
It’s all really bizarre, but he agrees anyway. This is a situation he's never been in before, and if he were allowed to tell his friends, he can imagine the look on their faces. He hears the two men walk away, and then, the door clicks shut. As he’s left behind all alone in the room, he holds himself rigid and feels something strange creep up inside his chest.
Is it dread? He isn't sure.
It's uncomfortable and unsettling. Eerie even, in a way. He cannot see a single thing with the blindfold covering his eyes.
He's at least relieved that he's all alone in the room, but the knowledge that someone's going to walk in soon and speak to him is making him feel a little on edge. This is a rich, possibly powerful person. Jungkook signed an NDA, and he can't even tell anyone about this even if he makes it out of here.
He really wishes he hadn't said yes to the money.
A few minutes later, the doorknob turns. Jungkook's ears perk up, picking up every sound, every other sense extremely alert now that his eyes are covered.
The door opens, and is then locked shut within a second. Jungkook can hear as well as feel the man’s presence in the room. It's heavy and extremely palpable, even though Jungkook can't see his face.
That alone makes his pulse quicken and his stomach knot a bit.
He stiffens, head moving in accordance with the man's movement around the room. He seems to come and stand in front of Jungkook, and Jungkook's heartbeat goes straight through the roof when it registers.
He doesn't know if he should yet, or exactly who it is that is in front of him, but he asks anyway.
“Can I take the blindfold off now?” Jungkook questions.
“In a bit.” A rich, deep voice answers him. Immediately, but in an unhurried manner. “When I say so.”
Jungkook feels goosebumps erupt all over his nape and back. The voice carries authority and gravitas, and Jungkook hasn't even seen the man’s face yet. It also sounds sort of familiar, but Jungkook can't quite put a finger on it.
Perhaps he's imagining the familiarity, he tells himself.
“Um…” Jungkook begins, unsure what to say. “Alright.”
He's fucked, it feels like.
“I won't hurt you.” The voice is assertive. Confident. “I’m just trying to get a good look at you.”
Jungkook doesn't respond. He isn't able to. He does feel the man step closer, though, and that makes a soft breath escape past his lips.
Jungkook physically feels the air around him shift with every movement of this person, and that alone is enough to tell him how powerful this man must be. It scares Jungkook a little again, but he tries not to show it.
“Do you mind if I touch your face?” The man asks him.
The question takes Jungkook by surprise. But also, it calms him a little because at least the man is asking.
And Jungkook thinks, if he's asking for permission before touching his face — the situation might not be as bad as he's worrying for it to be. Maybe this man isn't as dangerous as Jungkook's brain is making him out to be. He sure hopes so.
“Um… alright…” Jungkook shifts a little in his seat, pulse throbbing at the base of his neck. “You can.”
The moment he agrees, Jungkook feels the man step closer before a warm, gentle hand comes to rest on his cheek. His breath catches in his throat, and the touch sends a shiver down his spine, but he tries not to move too much.
The hand slides down his cheek, and then slowly flips over, before Jungkook feels knuckles softly brushing against his face. Jungkook notices how the hand stays strictly on his face, not even straying down his jaw or to his neck.
“Hm.” The man’s voice is gentle, but firm. “Exactly what I was looking for.”
Jungkook gulps, the touches sending electricity rushing through his veins. He doesn't want to think about what that means.
Instead, he asks a question that's been bugging him. “Am I supposed to model for photographs or…?”
“Have you read the NDA carefully?” Jungkook hears the voice get closer, and engulf him like a blanket. “Every single clause?”
“I did.” Jungkook rubs his palms against the fabric of his denims. “There wasn't much else to do on the way here.”
“So we're clear that nothing that happens in this room leaves these four walls.” The man responds in an emotionless, cold manner, yet his voice is incredibly gentle while also being commanding.
He doesn't ask. He simply states it, and the way he says it alone carries the implication that if this rule were violated, it wouldn't bode well for him.
Jungkook nods, trying to control his shaky fingers. “Yep. All clear.”
“You’ll never be harmed. Nothing that you do not agree to will take place” The man assures him. “But it is imperative that whatever happens, complete confidentiality be maintained. Confidentiality of this location, as well as everything you see and every conversation we have here.”
Jungkook nods. “I understand.”
There's silence then. A beat passes, and Jungkook hears the man step closer again. Heart pounding in his chest, Jungkook waits for permission. Words. Anything at all.
Nothing of that sort comes his way.
Instead, he perceives the man’s arms close in around him, before swift, gentle fingers brush against the back of his head. Jungkook's breath hitches, and fresh goosebumps erupt all over his nape.
He's removing the blindfold himself.
Jungkook certainly didn’t expect that, but the man’s fingers brushing against his hair while he removes it gives him tingles all over.
In one swift pull, the blindfold comes off. The silk scarf slides down Jungkook's face and shoulder, and into his lap. Jungkook opens his eyes and blinks until his vision clears, and then finally looks up.
Nothing prepares him for the sight in front of him.
He feels the ground shift underneath his feet. He blinks again, just to make sure he's seeing it right. But even then, his brain refuses to catch up with his eyes. His heart thumps and Jungkook stills, just staring for a few seconds and trying to wrap his mind around it.
Now he knows why the voice was familiar. He wasn't just imagining it.
It's the fucking vice president. Of South Korea. Standing right in front of him.
Kim Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.
Jungkook’s heart starts to pound in his chest. He doesn't even know how it's possible or how any of this is supposed to make sense. This has to be a joke, or some kind of a mistake.
And yet, he's right there in front of him, in the flesh, staring right back at him.
“Within these four walls only.” Taehyung reminds him, shoving his hands into his pockets like him being who he is, isn't even supposed to shock Jungkook. His eyes are dark and heavily lidded, and it's evident that the man knows he holds power. “You’d better remember that, Jungkook-ssi.”
Jungkook is still unable to come up with any words at all, let alone a coherent answer.
There's several things running through his mind right now. He notices how Taehyung has an air of confidence around him, standing like he owns the room — and he most probably does.
Of course he does.
Jungkook wonders whether he's in grave trouble. Has the information about the illegal racing somehow reached the vice president's office? Are they really making such a big deal out of it?
Jungkook is sure he's sweating a little now, but he can't even bring himself to wipe his sweat off.
He also wonders if the modeling bit was a lie. And if it wasn't, why does he have to model for the vice president at all? In what kind of circumstances would the vice president even need a model?
Is that what they do for election campaigns now? Nothing makes sense to him, no matter how many possibilities he thinks of.
And once he starts to get used to the initial shock of it all, Jungkook’s attention shifts to another aspect of this interaction. He notices that Taehyung is tall and much more handsome in person.
He's always thought that the vice president was quite the looker, and it was always strange to imagine someone who looks like that in politics. Jungkook likes women, but even he's always been in awe of Taehyung's looks.
But right now, he's absolutely and utterly speechless. How is it possible that his pictures and videos don't hold a candle to what's in front of him, despite him already being stunning in them?
It causes him to stare, and not answer.
Taehyung raises a brow. “Is that clear?”
Jungkook snaps out of it. He nods. “Yeah. Yeah… Perfectly clear. I'm— am I actually really here to model? There's no other reason, right?”
“What other reason would there be?” Taehyung gazes at him intensely.
Jungkook shakes his head. “No, no. Nothing. So… photographs? You take photos, butongnyeong-nim?”
Taehyung's face morphs into a scowl so slightly that Jungkook almost doesn't notice it. “Just call me Taehyung-ssi. I'd rather not be called by my position in national politics while I'm trying to unwind.”
Jungkook nods, feeling heat creep up his ears for some reason. “Got it. Taehyung-ssi.” He looks down, and tries to calm his heart. This is so fucking insane that it might as well be a tale out of a book on make-believe bedtime stories. “Um, is this for… a campaign or something of the sort?”
Taehyung keeps looking at him, a little bored with his questions, it seems. “Why would I hire you for a campaign?”
“So I'm guessing the answer is no. Okay.” Jungkook nods to himself, and then takes a deep breath. He buckles up. If he's going to do this, he'll do this without faltering. “Anyway… So since you already sent me the money, is the first session already now?”
Taehyung tilts his head, blinking slowly. He takes his time replying, eyes roaming all over Jungkook’s face as if trying to study him. “If you want.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how to answer that. Does he want the money? Yes. But does he want this? He’s not so sure. He’s not even entirely sure what this session entails. “What… exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Didn’t we already establish that?” Taehyung raises a brow, gesturing with his fingers for Jungkook to get up. He turns around and starts to walk off, making it clear without even verbalising it that Jungkook is to follow him. “You’re supposed to model.”
“Okay, um…” Jungkook stands up, and smoothens his jeans with his hands before following Taehyung. “What kind of photography, may I ask? I’m down for most things, but full body nudity is a no-no. Underwear… maybe not the really skimpy ones. I mean, I've—”
“The contract clearly mentioned that you won’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” Taehyung speaks, briefly glancing over his shoulder to look at Jungkook. “I thought you said you read it.”
“Of course.” Jungkook presses his lips together, feeling a little on edge. This is not a situation he would ever expect to get himself into. “You’re… going to photograph me, right? That's what we're doing… right?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer him. He simply walks through endless corridors, head held high. Jungkook feels extremely unnerved – not just because he’s the vice president, but because Taehyung’s entire presence is so incredibly intimidating. He’s not used to being around someone like this.
And on top of that, there's this enigma still surrounding what he's here for. Taehyung said modeling, but he refuses to clarify what kind.
Finally, after what feels like ages, Taehyung stops in front of a room with a tall, ornate and very expensive looking door. But then again, the entire place looks and feels expensive, so why would the door be an exception?
Jungkook mentally tries to estimate how much this door costs, and it starts making sense why he's getting paid as much as he is per session. Of course Taehyung is loaded. He comes from a lot of money too, Jungkook remembers reading it somewhere. Not only does he own businesses alongside politics, but he sits on a massive reservoir of generational wealth as well.
Taehyung touches the door then, snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts, and pushes it open. He turns around, and with a small tilt of his head, points towards the room.
“Come on in.”
Jungkook looks at him, and then at whatever’s visible through the door, which is not much, frankly. Regardless, he steps forward, heart pounding in his chest like it's going to break out of it. He doesn't think he's ever been this nervous before.
But just as he’s about to enter the room, Taehyung turns to the side in a way that they’re facing each other, almost chest to chest, standing merely inches apart. Jungkook’s pulse quickens immediately, and he looks into Taehyung’s eyes.
Jungkook is a little startled by the sudden proximity. It makes his heart thump in his chest, and he holds eye contact for a few seconds before averting his gaze.
Taehyung's eyes are way too intense.
“Look at me.” Taehyung commands.
Jungkook's eyes flit back to his.
“Not a word of what you see inside this room to a single soul outside of it. Okay?” Taehyung reminds him, eyes cold. “Remember everything you read in the contract.”
Jungkook nods. “I do.”
“If you go against any clause, I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.” Taehyung warns.
It's pretty evident that he means it. Jungkook believes him.
He nods again, heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Can I trust you, Jungkook-ssi?” Taehyung raises a brow. “Can I count on you to keep this to yourself?”
Jungkook nods. “Yes… yes, you can.”
He would have to be crazy to even dream of crossing the vice-president. The last thing he wants is to land in legal trouble of some kind. With someone that powerful, you never know.
Taehyung’s eyes stay fixed on him, but he steps aside to make way once he seems satisfied with Jungkook's answer. Jungkook averts his gaze once again, and steps forward to enter the room.
He still feels Taehyung's eyes on himself, though.
It’s dimly lit, so Jungkook can’t see much at first. But Taehyung steps in right after him, and Jungkook hears him flick a switch on.
The room lights up bit by bit, getting illuminated in cascades rather than all at once. Expensive looking warm lighting fills up the massive space, and Jungkook’s eyes take a while to adjust to the sudden, immense brightness.
But when they do, he finally sees what Taehyung intends for him to. His heart thumps in his chest, harder this time, and nearly slips out of his mouth when he recognises what’s in front of him.
He’s speechless. In utter, absolute disbelief. This is the second shock he's received in quick succession in the same evening.
His breathing quickens as he puts two and two together. He stares at the countless canvases and framed paintings in front of him, each one of which he recognises from hours of endless scrolling on instagram.
Jungkook's eyes keep flitting from painting to painting, the familiarity settling heavy in his stomach. He should be excited, but he isn't. In place of it is only shock and a certain kind of dread.
There's no fucking way.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly turns to look at Taehyung, and finds him already looking. Their eyes meet instantly, and Taehyung’s gaze only makes Jungkook more jittery now that he finally realises what’s happening here. He just can’t wrap his mind around it.
“You’re…” Jungkook begins, voice barely coming out coherent. “You’re Vante?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even nod. There's an impassive expression on his face, not even a twitch. But he keeps looking at Jungkook, and his eyes confirm the answer.
He is Vante.
Jungkook just can't believe it.
“And you’re…” Jungkook points at the canvases, feeling a little dizzy. “You’re going to–”
“Paint you.” Taehyung puts his hands in his pockets, and steps forward, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s. “I want to paint you. In a room like this, with just you and me in it. Is that okay, Jungkook-ssi?”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦