Authors Pov

The sound of shoes squeaking on polished  floors echoed faintly in the practice room as Jimin sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Jungkook stood nearby, absently twirling a water bottle in his hand, his brows furrowed.

"Hyung," Jungkook started, breaking the silence, "this is weird."

Jimin glanced up, confused. "What's weird? Your obsession with perfecting that last dance move?"

Jungkook scowled. "Not that. It's...her. Sara—or whatever she is. She doesn't even notice me. Me! The Jungkook."

Jimin smirked, leaning back. "Oh, this is new. The golden maknae's ego is hurt?"

Jungkook glared. "I'm serious. Every girl fawns over me. They giggle, they stare, they trip over themselves to talk to me. But she? She treats me like I'm...invisible."

Jimin stifled a laugh. "Poor baby. What do you want, a participation trophy for being noticed?"

Jungkook ignored him, pacing. "I don't get it. I'm the international playboy, hyung. Girls fall for me like dominoes. She's either pretending or..."

"Or she genuinely doesn't care," Jimin finished, his grin widening.

Jungkook sighed dramatically. "It's messing with my head."

"Maybe she's just...different," Jimin suggested. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "You know what you need? A night out. Let's go clubbing."

Jungkook paused, considering. "I don't know, hyung..."

Before he could finish, Taehyung entered the room, wearing a loose cardigan and a distracted expression.

"Perfect timing!" Jimin exclaimed, sitting up. "Tae, we're hitting the club tonight. You in?"

Taehyung shot them a disapproving look. "No thanks."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Don't act like a saint. It's not like you've never gone out with us."

Taehyung's jaw tightened. "I went once. Because you two wouldn't stop badgering me."

Jungkook frowned. "So what? It's just fun."

Taehyung snapped, his deep voice laced with rare frustration. "It wasn't fun for me. I don't want meaningless...sex. Not anymore." His gaze darkened, and he added quietly, "I won't be with someone I don't feel anything for."

The room grew silent for a moment, Taehyung's words hanging heavily in the air.

Jimin broke the tension with a teasing grin. "Okay, okay. No need to write a poem about it. You're still coming out with us, virgin or not."

Taehyung shot him a glare but said nothing, leaving the room.

Jungkook looked at Jimin. "Hyung, sometimes you really don't know when to stop."

Jimin shrugged, unbothered.

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Meanwhile, Yuna stood hidden behind a corner, her arms crossed, her expression sour. 

"That no-name manager," she muttered under her breath, her nails digging into her palm. "Why her? Why is she around them all the time?"

Her jealousy stemmed not just from professional rivalry but from personal failure. She had once been fucked by jungkook. Their fleeting fling had ended as quickly as it began, leaving her humiliated when he never gave her a second glance.

Now, seeing another woman—this Sara—command attention without even trying, made Yuna's blood boil.

"She doesn't belong here," Yuna whispered fiercely. "Not with them. Not with him."

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Saranya was on the phone with Akash, her tone calm and professional.

"The project is moving forward," she said. "But I'll need updates on the finances before the weekend."

As she rounded a corner, Yuna deliberately bumped into her, nearly knocking the phone from her hand.

"Watch it," Yuna snapped, looking Saranya up and down with disdain. "Oh wait, maybe it's hard to see where you're going in those ugly clothes."

Saranya raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You should try bumping into someone with actual insults next time. Yours are stale."

Yuna's nostrils flared. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Walking around like you're better than everyone."

Saranya smirked. "I don't think I'm better, Yuna. I know I am. But thanks for noticing."

Yuna stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the floor, leaving Saranya to calmly resume her call.

"Everything okay there?" Akash asked.

"Just another pebble on the road," she replied dryly.

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The club wasn't like any ordinary venue—it was an exclusive sanctuary, hidden from prying eyes and nosy cameras. A place where celebrities could unwind without worrying about their every move making headlines. The entry required both status and discretion, and once inside, the world outside didn't exist.

Jungkook and Jimin entered through a private back entrance, nodding at the familiar bouncer who verified their names. The bass thrummed through the walls as they made their way into the main area, where the crowd shimmered with stars—actors, singers, and influencers who valued their anonymity as much as their fame.

"Feels good, right?" Jimin said, taking a deep breath as the pulsating energy of the club engulfed them.

Jungkook scanned the room. "Yeah, no cameras. No questions. Just... escape."

"Exactly. Now, come on. I didn't bring you here to brood."

The bar was sleek and dimly lit, lined with bottles of premium liquor. Jimin leaned casually against the counter, ordering their usual.

"Two whiskey sours," he said, flashing the bartender his trademark smile.

Jungkook rested his forearms on the counter, his gaze wandering. "Do you think Sara would approve of this?"

Jimin snorted. "Sara doesn't need to know. And honestly, she probably wouldn't care. That woman's as cold as ice when it comes to us."

"Exactly. She's so damn indifferent. No one's ever ignored me like this before." Jungkook's jaw tightened as he thought about her aloofness.

"She's immune to the Jeon Jungkook charm," Jimin teased, clinking his glass against Jungkook's. "But tonight, forget her. There are plenty of people here who aren't immune."

Jungkook smirked. "Cheers to that."

The crowd moved in sync with the pounding music, the air electric with energy. Jimin, ever the life of the party, led Jungkook onto the floor.

"Loosen up, JK," Jimin called over the music, twirling dramatically and drawing a laugh from Jungkook.

As the song shifted to a sultry beat, attention naturally gravitated toward the two idols. A pair of women approached, their movements confident and their gazes locked on their targets.

"You're quite the dancer," one said to Jimin, her voice smooth as velvet.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Jimin replied with a wink, his arm slipping around her waist as they swayed to the rhythm.

Meanwhile, a striking woman with long legs and a dazzling smile sidled up to Jungkook. "You seem tense," she said, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm.

"Maybe," Jungkook admitted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "What do you suggest?"

"Follow me," she replied, her voice a challenge.

The club's VIP sections were designed for privacy, with plush seating and dim lighting that created an intimate atmosphere. Jimin and Jungkook both found themselves in secluded corners, each with a willing partner.

Jimin, ever the charmer, leaned close to his companion, his words drawing giggles and playful smacks on his shoulder.

Jungkook, on the other hand, remained composed, his interactions laced with subtle dominance. The woman leaned closer, whispering something into his ear that made his eyes glint with mischief.

As the night wore on, the barriers they carried melted away, replaced by the raw, fleeting connections that only such an environment could provide. They sought release—not just physical, but emotional—a brief respite from the relentless expectations of their public lives.

Hours later, the duo exited the club through the same discreet back door, the night air crisp against their skin.

Jimin slured out, his grin lazy. "That's what I call a good night."

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, his shirt slightly rumpled. "It was... distracting."

"Distraction is exactly what we needed," Jimin replied, clapping him on the back and falling on him being drunk while jungkook catch him and drag him to the car.

Jungkook, the designated driver, helped a very drunk Jimin into the passenger seat of his car.

As they drove through the quiet streets, Jungkook's sharp eyes caught movement ahead. A man suddenly stepped into the road, forcing him to slam on the brakes.

The car screeched to a halt, and Jungkook jumped out.

"Are you blind?" Jungkook barked.

The man, seemingly apologetic, bowed. "Sorry, I didn't see—"

But before he could finish, something shifted. The man lunged, shoving Jungkook.

"Seriously?" Jungkook growled. Without hesitation, he retaliated.

The fight was brutal and swift. Jungkook's punches landed with precision, his movements fueled by adrenaline and annoyance. But something was off—the man wasn't fighting back as hard as he could.

Jungkook didn't notice. His frustration from the night, from Sara, from everything boiled over as he landed punch after punch.

By the time the man stumbled away, bloodied and bruised, Jungkook was breathing heavily, his fists clenched.

Jimin, still dazed, slurred, "That...was intense."

Jungkook muttered, "Let's just go."

As they drove off, the man watched them disappear, a faint, cryptic smile forming on his battered face.

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