Mature Content Disclaimer

This book contains mature themes, including [explicit language, sexual content, violence, or other sensitive subjects]. It is intended for readers 18 years and older and may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Copyright Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, actual events, or real locales is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for reviews or critical analyses.

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©_koovoobi

Additional Warning

Top Taehyung

Bottom Jungkook

Cute, fluff, angst

Smut (bp)

No underaged sex

Mention of per..ds, mstrb..tn.

Bottom crossdressing if it's not okay, please leave.

Picture credit to rightful owners

BE KIND WITH YOUR COMMENTS. If YOU DON'T LIKE THE PLOT AND STORY, PLEASE LEAVE, THE DOOR IS ALWAYS OPEN.

Don't imitate any stunts mentioned in the story.

Be ready to deal with some immature characters!!!

The clock ticked past eleven, the soft hum of the computer breaking the stillness of the dimly lit room. A faint glow spilled from the screen, carving sharp angles across Jungkook’s face as he leaned forward, his shoulders tense.

His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the desk, a quiet echo of the turmoil in his chest. His lips moved soundlessly, forming a prayer he didn’t know he believed in. Time seemed to hold its breath as he finally stilled, exhaling a shaky sigh. Closing his eyes, he pressed the refresh button, daring fate to reveal what lay on the other side.

When the screen reloaded, his shoulders slumped. “Ahhh!” Jungkook screamed, throwing his head dramatically onto the desk.

He slapped the tabletop with both palms and groaned loudly. “Why… why… why does it keep happening?” he lamented, his voice muffled as he buried his face under his arms.

However, from the doorway, a soft chuckle broke through his misery. "You didn’t make it again, did you?"

The voice was familiar, laced with amusement but edged with concern. Jungkook peeked out from under his arms and squinted toward the doorway.

Mrs Jeon was standing there, arms crossed over her chest and leaning casually against the frame. Her expression was a mix of sympathy and teasing, her lips curved into a faint grin.

"Mom," Jungkook groaned, dragging the word out in frustration. "Can you please close the door and leave?"



Mrs. Jeon raised an eyebrow, stepping into the room. "You didn’t pass the test, did you?" she asked, her grin widening.

Jungkook groaned again, louder this time, as he pushed himself out of the chair and flopped onto the bed. He grabbed a pillow, covered his face with it, and muttered, "I don’t want to talk about it."

Mrs. Jeon laughed softly, walking over to the bed. She sat down on the edge, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. "It’s not the end of the world, Jungkook. Just apply for that medical entrance this year. It’s a solid option, and your dad would be thrilled."

Jungkook yanked the pillow away from his face and shot her an exasperated glare. "How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want to be a doctor!"

"Jungkook," Mrs. Jeon began, her voice gentle but firm.

"No, listen to me," Jungkook interrupted, sitting up and crossing his arms. "I want to be a chef. It’s my dream."

Mrs. Jeon blinked, clearly taken aback. A moment later, she burst into laughter. "You? A chef? Oh, Jungkookie, I haven’t even seen you boil water by yourself! Are you serious?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning back against the headboard. "I’m not joking. I want to go to London to study at a culinary school."

Mrs. Jeon’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of incredulity. "London? To learn how to cook? Do you have any idea how absurd that sounds? You don’t need to cross the sea for that. Just step into our kitchen. I’ll teach you everything you need to know."

"Mom," Jungkook groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "I’m not talking about making kimchi or stew. I want to learn how to make pasta, cakes, croissants.. all those fancy things you can’t teach me."

Mrs. Jeon shook her head, unimpressed. "And what’s wrong with practical jobs? Why not study something that guarantees you a high-paying career, like medicine or engineering? Something like your dad’s job?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he shot her a pointed look.

"When you were younger, Dad wanted you to be a doctor too. Not just any doctor.. an oncologist, like him. But you didn’t do that, did you?"

Mrs. Jeon’s lips pressed together, and she let out a resigned sigh. "And if you tell your dad you want to go to London to become a chef, he’ll lose his mind. He might even kick both of us out of the house!"

"Two doctors in the family are more than enough," Jungkook retorted, crossing his arms. "Why does everyone want me to be something I’m not?"

Mrs. Jeon sighed, rubbing her temples. "Jungkook, how are we supposed to explain this to people? ‘Oh, our son? He’s studying to be a chef in London!’ Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

Jungkook pouted, the frustration clear on his face. "If these stupid English and French proficiency tests weren’t mandatory, I’d already be in London by now," he muttered.

Mrs. Jeon’s expression softened, and she reached out to pat his shoulder. "Jungkook, I understand that you have dreams, and I admire your passion. But you’re going about this the hard way. London isn’t going anywhere. If you’re serious about this, start small. Convince your dad gradually. Show him you’re not just daydreaming... you’re serious."

Jungkook’s defiance faltered as he looked at her. "But it’s my dream, Mom," he said quietly, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I know," she replied gently. "And I want you to chase it. But first, prove it to us. Try cooking something here. If you can make one edible dish without burning down the kitchen, I might actually consider supporting this London thing."

Jungkook groaned, flopping back onto the bed and pulling the pillow over his face again. "Fine. But I’m not making kimchi," he grumbled.

Mrs. Jeon laughed, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Deal."

Despite his frustration, a small smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips under the pillow as the room filled with the warmth of their laughter.

“Good, now just sleep. It’s already past 11. Let’s see what we can do about this tomorrow morning,” she said, her tone soft yet firm.

Jungkook nodded at her retreating figure, watching as she closed the door behind her. He sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling for a moment before grabbing his phone from the bedside table. His thumb hovered over the screen before he dialed the number he knew by heart.

The call connected after a single ring. "Gyu!!!," Jungkook whined, his voice muffled with frustration. "I didn’t make it this time either."

On the other end, Mingyu’s familiar voice carried a hint of sympathy. "Oh, Kookie. What should we do now?"

"I don’t know," Jungkook admitted, his voice dropping. "I feel so helpless."

"If only I were studious enough like you," Mingyu teased lightly. "I would’ve aced the test, flown to London, and migrated you over later."

Jungkook pressed his lips into a thin line, his frustration bubbling over.

"Your dad’s not going to accept us anyway," Mingyu continued with a sigh. "That’s why I thought this plan was perfect. But now it feels like you’re my dream that I’ll never be able to reach."

"Gyu," Jungkook protested, his voice tinged with urgency. "Don’t say that. It’s not just your dream; it’s mine too. We, settling down in London, opening a small cafe, living like a family with two or three kids... that’s my dream as well. But this test… it’s standing in the way of everything!"

"Is there a way to apply for the next test soon?" Mingyu asked after a pause.

"Yeah," Jungkook mumbled. "I’ll check the nearest dates tomorrow."

“Mm.. Leave it for now,” Mingyu’s voice turned soft like a gentle balm to Jungkook’s frazzled nerves. “Did my baby eat anything today?”

Jungkook shook his head, even though Mingyu couldn’t see him. “No,” he mumbled, rolling over on his bed, clutching the phone tightly against his ear.

Mingyu sighed audibly. “Is your dad at home or at the hospital?” he asked after a pause.

“At home,” Jungkook replied, his voice dropping to a near whisper. He let out a soft sigh, his legs kicking absently against the mattress.

“So… jumping your fence is risky, huh?” Mingyu teased, his tone light but with a playful edge that brought a faint smile to Jungkook’s lips.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jungkook warned, though his voice carried a hint of amusement.

“I was thinking,” Mingyu continued, undeterred. “I’d grab two burgers, jump your fence, and we’d eat together. Then maybe cuddle, you know?”

Jungkook couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped him. “You’d better not come now,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Dad’s home. And not just him.. Granny’s here too.”

“Ah, that oldie’s there?” Mingyu groaned dramatically. “No way. I’m not coming anywhere near your house, then. Not even within five kilometers!”

Jungkook burst into laughter, his worries momentarily forgotten in the wake of Mingyu’s antics.

But his laughter was abruptly cut short as his phone emitted a sharp beep, signaling another incoming call. His heart stilled, and his eyes widened as he glanced at the screen.

The name flashing on the display made his stomach drop. Dad.

“Oh no,” Jungkook whispered, panic setting in. He immediately ended the call with Mingyu, his fingers trembling slightly.

“What is it?” Mingyu’s voice had just echoed in his mind, but now it was replaced by his father’s looming presence. Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before picking up the new call.

“H-Hello?” Jungkook stammered, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Isn’t it time to sleep?” Mr. Jeon’s voice was calm yet carried an unmistakable edge of authority, one that sent a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

“Y-Yes, Dad,” Jungkook lied hastily, his thoughts spinning. “I was just about to. Then.. Jimin… Jimin called me.”

There was a pause, long enough for Jungkook to regret every decision he’d made that day. “Mm,” his father finally replied, his tone unreadable. “Then come down. Jimin is waiting here.”

Jungkook’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

“And bring your phone with you,” Mr. Jeon added sharply before hanging up, leaving no room for questions or protest.

For a moment, Jungkook sat frozen, the empty screen of his phone staring back at him like an accusation. His mind raced as panic clawed at his chest. What was Jimin doing downstairs? How much did his father overheard?

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, cursing the universe for conspiring against him. He scrambled to open his call logs, his fingers trembling as he cleared every trace of Mingyu’s number. Then he navigated to their messages, his eyes scanning quickly to ensure nothing incriminating remained.

Before deleting the chat history, he typed out a hurried message:

"Phone is with Dad. Don’t text me."

The moment it was sent, Jungkook erased the entire conversation. He stared at his phone for a beat, making sure no evidence lingered, before stuffing it into his pocket.

Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, trying to smooth down the nervous energy buzzing through him. He adjusted his shirt, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and willed himself to appear calm.

The walk to the stairs felt like a march to his own execution. His legs were heavy, his heart pounding so loud he was certain it echoed through the quiet house. With every step closer to the living room, dread coiled tighter around him.

When Jungkook finally reached the bottom of the staircase, the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. His steps faltered as he saw them. His father, Mr. Jeon, stood by the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression carved from stone. Beside him, Mrs. Jeon sat with a calm neutrality that betrayed nothing, but her pursed lips hinted at underlying concern.

“Sit,” Mr. Jeon commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding. It was not a suggestion.

Jungkook hesitated for a fraction of a second before obeying, lowering himself onto the couch opposite them. The leather felt cold against his palms as he clenched his hands tightly in his lap. His phone weighed heavily in his pocket, a guilty reminder of everything that had led to this moment.

He glanced around, trying to gauge the situation, his confusion evident. “Jimin?” he asked, his voice tentative.

“Jimin is not here,” Mr. Jeon said simply, his tone cutting through Jungkook’s thoughts like a blade. “First, you explain. Your mother mentioned something.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “About?” he asked cautiously, though he suspected he already knew.

“About your choice of career,” his father replied, his piercing gaze never wavering.

Jungkook sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “Oh.”

Before he could say anything more, Mr. Jeon raised a hand, palm outward. The unspoken demand was clear. With a reluctant pout, Jungkook pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it in his father’s waiting hand.

“Mm. Tell me,” Mr. Jeon said, unlocking the phone and scanning through its contents.

“I couldn’t make it,” Jungkook admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I failed by two points.”

Mr. Jeon’s expression didn’t shift, but the weight of his disapproval was palpable. “Is it just a hobby, or are you truly serious about this choice?” he asked.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook replied firmly, his gaze flickering between his father and his phone, which now seemed to hold his fate.

“Where is the last dialed number?” Mr. Jeon asked abruptly.

“Jimin’s? It should be there,” Jungkook said, leaning forward slightly as if to help.

“It’s not,” his father said, his tone clipped as he scrolled through the call log.

“Did it get deleted accidentally?” Jungkook asked, his voice tinged with nervousness. He turned to his mother for support, but Mrs. Jeon merely rolled her eyes, shaking her head as though to say 'You’re hopeless'.

Mr. Jeon’s gaze bore into him, unrelenting. Jungkook’s mouth went dry under the weight of it.

“Hmm…” Mr. Jeon hummed, finally locking the phone and lowering it to his side. “Since you couldn’t make it, what’s your plan now?”

Jungkook straightened his posture, mustering what confidence he could. “I’ll appear for the next test. I need to apply before this December intake.”

Mr. Jeon nodded slowly, his face betraying no emotion as he stood up from the couch. The sound of his movements was loud in the otherwise silent room.

“Hmm. That will be your last chance, Jungkook. I am not going to permit this ridiculous act again,” he said, his voice final as he tucked Jungkook’s phone into his pocket.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Wait.. My phone?” he called after his father, standing up from the couch.

Mr. Jeon paused and turned halfway to face him. “Go and sleep. If there’s an emergency, I will attend the call,” he said firmly before resuming his stride toward the bedroom.

Jungkook stood frozen for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to protest. “But..” he began, only to be cut off by his mother’s laughter.

Mrs. Jeon, who had been the picture of composure until now, erupted into a fit of giggles, her shoulders shaking as she leaned back into the couch. “Oh, Jungkook,” she said between laughs, wiping at her eyes. “You should’ve seen your face.”

Jungkook pouted, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Mom, seriously?”

Mrs. Jeon waved him off, still chuckling. “Go on, do as your father says. And maybe next time, think twice before you try to hide anything from him.”

Jungkook groaned dramatically, dragging his feet as he trudged back up the stairs, his mother’s laughter echoing in his ears. As he reached his room and flopped onto his bed, he muttered under his breath, “Why does this always happen to me?”

Slowly, Jungkook pushed himself up from the bed, his movements sluggish as if weighed down by the disappointment swirling in his chest. His feet padded quietly against the wooden floor as he approached the small table tucked into the corner of his room. His fingers lightly brushed the edge of the scattered study materials... textbooks, notes filled with scribbles, and a half-empty pen lying diagonally across a page.

He paused, staring at the mess with a furrowed brow. The weight of his recent failure pressed heavily on his shoulders.

With a small sigh, he reached out and opened one of the textbooks, flipping through its pages aimlessly. The neatly printed words seemed to blur together, refusing to take shape in his mind. He shut the book with a soft thud, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“What’s the point?” he muttered to himself, his voice low and tinged with resignation.

Turning away from the table, he retreated back to the bed. As he sank into the familiar comfort of his mattress, he let out another deep sigh, dragging the blanket over his legs. Maybe sleep would clear his mind. Maybe it would dull the sting of his father’s words and his own guilt.

Lying on his side, he curled up, his eyes fixed on the faint glow of the moonlight spilling through the curtains. “Tomorrow,” he whispered, as though making a silent promise to himself. “Tomorrow, I’ll try again.”

But even as he closed his eyes, the thought lingered...what if tomorrow wasn’t any better?



(Jungkook's home)

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, filling the room with a soft golden glow. Jungkook stirred, stretching his arms lazily above his head before sitting up in bed. He yawned deeply, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. After shaking off the last remnants of sleep, he shuffled toward the washroom for a refreshing morning shower.

Emerging from the bathroom with damp hair and a towel draped around his chest, Jungkook was unusually energized. Instead of following his usual routine of lounging around until breakfast was served, he marched straight to the kitchen.

The maid, who was busy arranging the counter, froze mid-action as Jungkook walked in.

“Young master?” she asked hesitantly, unsure of what to make of his unexpected presence.

“I’ll handle breakfast today,” Jungkook announced confidently, his voice carrying a rare determination. He reached for a pot on the counter, the assertiveness in his tone throwing the maid into a state of confusion.

“Eggs?” he asked, glancing at her. The maid quickly recovered and rushed to the refrigerator, handing him a tray of eggs.

Jungkook placed the eggs on the counter and picked one up, holding it delicately between his fingers. “What do we usually use to break these?” he mumbled, scanning the kitchen.

“Give him that hammer. It’ll work perfectly,” Mrs. Jeon’s amused voice chimed from the doorway, her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the frame.

Jungkook shot her an exasperated look. “I’ll manage, thanks.” He grabbed a spoon and tapped the egg lightly, cracking it open with a mixture of determination and awkwardness. “I’m making egg mayo sandwiches and banana smoothies,” he declared, as if he’d just unveiled a grand culinary plan.

“Young master, sir doesn’t like smoothies. Should I prepare kimchi rice instead?” the maid offered cautiously.

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, waving her off. “I said I’ll do it myself.”

“But..” she started, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Jeon.

“Let him try, nuna,” Mrs. Jeon said, amusement dancing in her eyes as she returned to her seat in the dining room, resuming her newspaper.

For the next half hour, chaos ensued. The once-pristine kitchen transformed into a battlefield. The egg lay half-scrambled in the pan, the rice bubbled in a pot without proper seasoning, and the kimchi sat untouched in a bowl. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood in the center of the disaster zone, a hand on his chin as he pondered his next step.

The maid watched the scene unfold with a mix of concern and suppressed laughter. “Do you need help, young master?” she finally asked, her voice soft.

Jungkook shook his head stubbornly. “I’ve got this,” he said, though the mess around him suggested otherwise.

Just then, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Mr. Jeon appeared in the doorway, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. “Do we have something to eat?” he asked casually, adjusting his watch.

“Ask your son. He’s in charge of breakfast today,” Mrs. Jeon replied from the dining room without looking up from her newspaper.

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow, glancing at the disarray in the kitchen. “Oh, no worries. I’ll grab something from the hospital canteen. I have a surgery scheduled in an hour.”

“Hm, probably safer that way,” Mrs. Jeon added dryly, her lips twitching with suppressed humor.

Jungkook scowled at her retreating figure and then at his father, who was already turning to leave. “Dad!” he called, jogging after him.

“Yes?” Mr. Jeon stopped, his expression a blend of curiosity and impatience. “Do you need something?”

Jungkook hesitated, shifting on his feet. “Your wallet,” he finally blurted out, his cheeks tinting pink.

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “Why, may I ask?”

“Um, just… necessities,” Jungkook said vaguely, snatching the wallet and quickly taking out some cash. He handed the wallet back, avoiding his father’s amused gaze, and darted back inside before he could be questioned further.

Mr. Jeon stood there for a moment, watching his son’s retreating figure with a mix of bewilderment and amusement. Turning to his wife, he sighed. “Our son’s determined to set the kitchen on fire, isn’t he?”

Mrs. Jeon lowered her newspaper just enough to flash a sly smile. “Well, every master chef has to start somewhere.”

"That's right." Mr Jeon murmured as he left the home.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sighed as he stood in the kitchen, staring at the chaos he'd created. The uncooked eggs, half-done rice, and untouched kimchi mocked him from every corner. He crossed his arms, determined to salvage his attempt, but deep down, he knew breakfast was a lost cause.

"Okay, fine. Cooking can wait," he muttered to himself, already mentally filing this under 'future goals.' He imagined himself as a skilled chef someday, flipping omelets like a pro. Yeah, someday.

Shaking off the thought, he turned and headed to his bedroom. After rifling through his wardrobe, he picked out one of his best outfits.. a cream sweater paired with fitted black jeans. He admired himself in the mirror for a moment, brushing his hair into place, then grabbed his bag and a book before heading out.

As he hopped into the living room, he noticed his mom slipping on her shoes by the front door, already dressed modestly.

“Mom, wait!” Jungkook called, rushing toward her.

Mrs. Jeon turned to see him bounding over, her brows lifting in curiosity. “What now?”

Jungkook pointed at his cheek, pouting slightly. “Do you see this? What can we do about it?”

His mother leaned in, examining the small pimple. Her lips pursed. “Eat less oily food. Drink plenty of water. Stick to your skincare routine.”

Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re a dermatologist, and that’s all you’ve got? Aren’t there like, magic creams or something?”

Mrs. Jeon chuckled, swatting his hand away. “Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’s barely noticeable. Now, let’s go before you’re late.”

The two made their way to the car, and Jungkook slid into the passenger seat while his mom started the engine. The hum of the vehicle filled the air as they drove through the quiet morning streets.

A few minutes into the ride, Mrs. Jeon broke the silence. “Jungkook,” she began, her tone carrying a hint of warning, “you need to stop spending so much time with that boy.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, looking at her. “Which boy?”

“That one… what’s his name again?” she asked, tapping the steering wheel as if the name would come to her.

“Gyu?” Jungkook offered hesitantly.

“Yes, him. Stop it. I don’t like you hanging around with him. He doesn’t seem like a good influence, and you know your father. He’ll be furious if he finds out.”

Jungkook crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “Mom, money and social status don’t define someone’s worth. Gyu is a good person, even if he doesn’t fit into your perfect mold.”

“Jungkook!” Mrs. Jeon snapped, her voice sharp with authority. “If you’re going to class, go to class. Study hard and come straight home. I don’t say anything when you spend time with Jimin, but this Gyu business.. it should stop here. Whatever is going on between you two, it’s not happening.”

Jungkook’s face flushed with anger as he turned to stare out the window. “You can’t control my life, Mom. I have the right to decide who I spend time with.”

Mrs. Jeon rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. She clicked on the turn signal and began slowing the car down.

“Out,” she said curtly.

Jungkook blinked in disbelief, whipping his head around to face her. “What?”

“Out of the car,” she repeated, her voice firm as she leaned over to open the passenger door.

“Mom, you can’t be serious!” Jungkook protested, but the stern look on her face told him otherwise.

“Get out and find your own way to class,” she said. “Maybe the walk will give you some time to think about what I’ve said.”

Grumbling under his breath, Jungkook grabbed his bag and stepped out of the car. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, slamming the door shut.

Mrs. Jeon rolled down the window, giving him one last look. “Drink water and stay out of trouble,” she said before driving off, leaving him standing on the side of the road.

Jungkook watched the car disappear down the street, then adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “She actually left me here,” he said aloud, shaking his head.

Jungkook blinked in disbelief as his mother’s car sped off, leaving him stranded. He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and stared down at his shoes.

He kicked a loose pebble on the road and sighed. The morning wasn’t turning out the way he had hoped. His half-hearted attempt at making breakfast had been a disaster, his face now sported an unwelcome pimple, and now his mom had left him stranded because of an argument about Gyu.

With a deep sigh, he started walking toward the coaching center, the morning sun beating down on him. “Someday, I’ll have my own car,” he grumbled. “And I’ll never, ever let her forget this.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of the thoughts. He pulled it out to see a text from Gyu.

Gyu: Morning! Are we meeting after class today?

Jungkook smiled despite himself, typing back quickly.

Jungkook: Not sure. Mom’s on the warpath today. She kicked me out of the car.

Almost immediately, the typing bubbles appeared.

Gyu: What? Are you okay? Where are you?

Jungkook: I’m walking to class. No big deal. She’s just mad about us hanging out.

Gyu: Classic Mrs. Jeon. Want me to pick you up? Maybe we can skip today's class then some 'us time'?

Jungkook hesitated. He liked that Gyu was always there for him, but he didn’t want to make things worse. He could already hear his mom’s voice echoing in his head, her tone sharp with disapproval.

Jungkook: No, not today. I’ll see you later.

He pocketed his phone and kept walking, shaking off the irritation bubbling inside him. He knew his mother meant his wellness. She always did that, but her obsession with status and appearances drove him crazy. Gyu might not fit into the perfect mold she wanted, but that didn’t make him any less of a good person.

As he approached the coaching center, Jungkook spotted a familiar face sitting on the low wall by the entrance. It was Jimin, his friend, casually flipping through a notebook.

“Hey!” Jungkook called out, jogging over.

Jimin looked up and grinned. “What happened to you? You look like someone just ruined your morning.”

Jungkook plopped down next to him, throwing his bag on the ground. “Mom kicked me out of the car.”

Jimin snorted, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. “I guessed it. What did you do this time? Is it because of the test result?”

“Nah. She doesn’t like Gyu,” Jungkook muttered. “Thinks he’s not ‘right for me.’ Whatever that means.”

Jimin tilted his head, his expression softening. “She’s just being protective in her own way. You know how parents can be.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a kid anymore,” Jungkook said, crossing his arms. “I can make my own decisions. She doesn’t get to dictate who I hang out with.”

Jimin shrugged. “True. But maybe try to see her perspective? It’s not about controlling you.. it’s about what she thinks is best. Doesn’t mean she’s always right, though.”

Jungkook groaned, leaning back against the wall. “You sound like her right now. I just want her to trust me, you know?”

Jimin nudged him playfully. “She does. But she’s also stubborn. Wonder where you got that from?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Shut up.”

The students rushed through the corridor, signaling the start of class. Jungkook straighten up, grabbing his bag. “Let’s go. Maybe today will suck a little less once I bury myself in books.”

Jimin chuckled, falling into step beside him. “That’s the spirit. And hey, if all else fails, we can always grab food later. My treat.”

As they walked into the building, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Maybe his mom was being unreasonable, but he’d figure it out. He always did. And for now, he had people who had his back, and that was enough.

..to be continued..

Jimin leaned across the small, wooden cafe table, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve as he studied Jungkook’s forlorn expression. “Jungkook,” he began gently, his voice laced with concern, “did you hear what Mrs. Lee said? You don’t have much time. The December intake is closing soon.”

Jungkook, his head resting heavily on his crossed arms, let out a low, tired sigh. His dark hair fell across his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes, which stared blankly at the table. The faint murmur of the bustling cafe around them seemed a world away.

“You have to clear the test, apply to the university, and then get your visa approved,” Jimin continued, his brow furrowed deeply. “Do you think you can manage all of that in time?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook murmured, his voice barely audible over the ambient chatter. His fingers traced idle patterns on the wooden surface of the table. “But I have to leave here.”

Jimin’s heart ached for his friend, sensing the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “What about other countries?” he suggested, trying to infuse some hope into the conversation. “Maybe you could apply to Germany, like me. It could be a fresh start.”

Jungkook shook his head, lifting it just enough to lock eyes with Jimin. His gaze was resolute, despite the vulnerability etched across his features. “No,” he said softly but firmly. “London is Gyu’s and my dream. We’ve been planning this for too long.”

Jimin nodded slowly. He knew how much London meant to him, a shared aspiration with someone he held dear. “Then, what’s the plan?” Jimin asked, his voice quieter now, matching the seriousness of the moment.

“I think I should reappear for this week’s test,” Jungkook stated.

“And without further preparation?” Jimin’s concern flared again, his eyes widening slightly. “Are you sure you can make it?”

“I need to, Jimina,” Jungkook replied with a slight smile, using the affectionate nickname as a way to reassure his friend. His fingers brushed the last crumbs of his lunch off the table as he sat up straighter. “I can’t let this chance slip by.”

Jimin watched him for a moment, then nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright. If you’re set on it, I’m with you all the way. We’ll figure it out.”

Jungkook’s smile grew a little wider. The two friends stood, collecting their things, and made their way out of the cozy cafe into the cool afternoon air. They walked side by side, the weight of their conversation lingered between them.

As they rounded the next curve on the winding road, Jungkook’s lips curved into a radiant smile. His hand rose to rub the tip of his nose, a nervous habit, as his eyes caught sight of Mingyu leaning casually against his old Royal Enfield. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the scene, highlighting the bike’s worn chrome and Mingyu’s easy stance.

“Seems like I’m walking home alone,” Jimin teased, his voice light as he nudged Jungkook playfully.

“No, no, I’m coming with you,” Jungkook replied quickly, shaking his head. A trace of worry crossed his features. “Mom’s already on edge, and if she sees me with Gyu today… I don’t even want to think about it. She won’t hold back and will go straight to Dad.”

Jimin hummed thoughtfully, understanding the delicate situation as they continued their walk toward Mingyu.

Mingyu straightened as they approached, a smile playing on his lips. “I thought you might stay for extra classes,” he said, retrieving a small pack from the bike’s compartment and handing it to Jungkook. “Mom made this for you.”

Jungkook’s fingers carefully unwrapped the pack, revealing a few neatly arranged fish cakes. His smile widened as he rewrapped it. “I’ll eat them later. We just had lunch,” he said softly.

“Okay. Come on, I’ll drop you near home,” Mingyu offered, his eyes glinting with affection.

“Not today,” Jungkook declined. “I’m in the danger zone already, and I told you how risky it is. Plus, I need to prepare for the test.” His lips formed a soft pout, making Mingyu’s gaze flicker to them momentarily.

“You should take a break, Koo,” Mingyu said, his voice tinged with concern. “I feel bad seeing you work so hard for us while I’m just hanging around.”

“Don’t think like that,” Jungkook reassured him, a gentle smile softening his features. “We need to leave the country soon. Every day, I feel closer to being caught. I don’t even want to imagine how Dad will react when he finds out about us. It’ll be the worst.”

Mingyu sighed, stepping closer and placing a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. His thumb caressed it gently. Jungkook lowered his gaze, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“Should I walk ahead?” Jimin asked, breaking the moment with a knowing look.

Jungkook glanced at Mingyu, who nodded subtly. “I’ll catch up soon,” Jungkook replied.

Jimin nodded, turning on his heel and walking ahead, his figure soon blending into the distance.

“So?” Mingyu asked, pulling Jungkook closer to him.

“The writing test is what’s draining me,” Jungkook admitted, his eyes dropping to their interlinked fingers.

Mingyu leaned back slightly, half-seating on his bike. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear. “Once you pass the test, we’ll need to arrange the cash immediately, right?”

Jungkook nodded, his brows knitting together. “I’m worried about that. I can ask Dad for a bit more, but it won’t cover everything. College fees, accommodation, the bank deposit, and all the other expenses… Gyu, it’s overwhelming.”

“Don’t stress,” Mingyu said. “We’ll figure it out. You can get a part-time job once you’re there, and I’ll pick up extra work here. We’ll find a way, together.”

Jungkook hummed in agreement, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t drop you off?” Mingyu asked, concern lacing his voice.

"No." Jungkook shook his head.

“Next week, Mom won’t be home. Will you come over then?” Mingyu asked, his tone softening with hope.

Jungkook hesitated, their eyes meeting.

“I thought we could spend some time together. Just us. Maybe cuddle a bit.”

A smile blossomed on Jungkook’s face, warmth spreading through him. “I’ll let you know,” he said, glancing nervously down the road as he got a glimpse of familiar car. His eyes widened in alarm. “Oh shit, it’s Mom! I have to go.”

He quickly covered his face with his bag, muttering a hurried goodbye. “Bye, I’ll call you later.” He turned and sprinted in the direction Jimin had gone, heart pounding in his chest.

“I love you, Koo,” Mingyu called after him.

“Love you too,” Jungkook whispered back, a soft smile on his lips as he glanced over his shoulder one last time before disappearing down the road, hurrying toward the safety of home.



Mingyu watched Jungkook’s retreating figure with a soft smile lingering on his lips. However, the gentle hum of the evening was interrupted by a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Eunwoo, a familiar grin spread across his friend’s face.

“Oh, Eunwoo,” Mingyu greeted, shifting slightly to face him.

“Lucky you,” Eunwoo teased, his gaze following where Jungkook had disappeared. “Jungkook is such a beauty.”

Mingyu hummed in agreement, a subtle, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Without another word, he swung a leg over his Royal Enfield, settling into the seat. Eunwoo mounted the bike behind him, adjusting his grip on Mingyu’s shoulders.

“Drop me near Palace Road,” Eunwoo said, settling into a comfortable position.

Mingyu nodded, revving the engine before the bike rolled down the winding road, the cool evening air brushing against their faces.

“So, how far is your London dream?” Eunwoo asked, his voice carrying over the soft rumble of the engine.

“It’s complicated,” Mingyu admitted. “Jungkook failed the test again. He’s planning to reappear this week.”

“You really need to go?” Eunwoo’s question was tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yes,” Mingyu responded firmly. “I have to. I need to escape from this slum.”

Eunwoo hummed in understanding. “Everyone will be happy if that happens. Someone from our colony going abroad.. it’s a success to celebrate.”

Mingyu nodded. “I hope Jungkook passes the test this time. I promised a bunch of flowers and candles to the church.”

Eunwoo tapped his shoulder lightly, reassuring Mingyu. “But what if Jungkook’s parents find out?” Eunwoo asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

Mingyu’s expression darkened slightly. “Jungkook’s mother knows about us, and she’s against our relationship. I don’t think his dad knows yet.”

“Hmmm. Will Jungkook really leave everything to go with you? After all, he’s born with a silver spoon,” Eunwoo mused, his voice tinged with skepticism.

“Why should Jungkook leave everything?” Mingyu countered. “I’m the one who’s going with him. This is our dream.”

“But what if Dr. Jeon finds out about you two?” Eunwoo pressed.

“They’ll accept us eventually,” Mingyu said, a confident smile spreading across his face. He believed in the strength of  Jungkook’s love, even if the path was fraught with challenges.

“Anyways, you’re lucky, bro,” Eunwoo remarked, admiration in his tone. “Someone like Jungkook and your London dream… it seems untouchable for the rest of us.”

Mingyu’s smile widened, a mix of hope and determination flickering in his eyes. “Maybe. But dreams are worth chasing, no matter how far they seem.”

With that, the two friends continued down the road, the hum of the engine underscoring their quiet conversation.

Meanwhile, at the Jeon villa, Jungkook wiped the sweat from his forehead as he tiptoed through the front door, his eyes darting around nervously. The house was quiet, and the living room appeared empty, a welcome sight. He exhaled deeply, relief washing over him. Without wasting another moment, he sprinted lightly across the floor, heading towards the stairs.

Just as his foot touched the first step, a firm grip on his collar halted him. He spun around, wide-eyed, to find his mother, Mrs. Jeon, standing behind him with a knowing look.

"Were you standing near that 43rd lane? By the post box?" Mrs. Jeon asked, her gaze sharp and inquisitive.

“Me? No way,” Jungkook said, forcing a nervous chuckle as he straightened his shirt. “I took the other way home.”

Mrs. Jeon narrowed her eyes slightly, studying him. “Hmm. I thought I saw that boy,” she mused.

“Which boy?” Jungkook asked, his voice a little too high-pitched as he feigned innocence.

“Don’t act too smart,” Mrs. Jeon warned, her tone laced with suspicion. “It’s good if it wasn’t you.”

Jungkook offered her his most disarming smile, leaning in to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “Make me a latte, please. I’ll freshen up and come down,” he said, hoping to deflect her attention.

“Aren’t you the one who’s going to be a chef?” Mrs. Jeon quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but I’ve got time. This time, you make it,” Jungkook replied with a cheeky grin, skipping up the stairs two at a time to his room before she could question him further.

Mrs. Jeon watched him go, a small smile playing on her lips. She shook her head, muttering to herself about how much of a handful her son could be, before heading to the kitchen to prepare his latte.

Once inside his room, Jungkook smiled to himself, the tension from earlier melting away. He dropped his bag onto the bed, eagerly retrieving the paper-wrapped package from within. He brought it to his nose, inhaling the familiar, comforting aroma.

Carefully, he unwrapped one of the fish cakes and took a bite, savoring the taste. His smile deepened as he wrapped the rest of the fish cakes back up, tucking the package safely under his cot for later.

With a satisfied sigh, Jungkook moved to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water washed away the day's stress, leaving him refreshed and more focused. He soon emerged, dressed comfortably, and made his way to his study table.

He took a deep breath as his eyes landed on the scattered textbooks and notes, the weight of his upcoming test pressing on his mind. Without wasting another moment, he pulled out his chair, sat down, and began pouring over the material. His pen flew across the pages as he scribbled notes, determined to grasp every concept and ace the test this time.

The room was silent except for the soft rustling of papers and the faint scratching of Jungkook’s pen. Lost in his studies, he didn’t notice how quickly time had slipped by. The latte his mother had placed on his desk sat untouched, the steam long since vanished. As he stretched his arms over his head, a soft yawn escaped his lips. Glancing outside, he realized it was already night. He closed his books, ready to crawl into bed, when a sound drew his attention.

Curious, Jungkook moved toward the window, but he was startled when a hand gripped the window rail.

“Boww…”

Jungkook gasped. “Ah! Seriously, Gyu!” he scolded, placing a hand over his chest to calm his racing heart.

“Did you sleep, my beautiful?” Mingyu asked with a sheepish smile, balancing himself by the window.

Jungkook scrunched his nose, rubbing the tip lightly. “How many times have I told you not to drink and drive?” he admonished, turning his face away with a frown. He sat by the window, his expression softening slightly.

“I couldn’t sleep without seeing you,” Mingyu admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of affection and mischief.

“Is that why you drank?” Jungkook asked, his tone more amused than scolding.

Mingyu chuckled, reaching out to gently caress Jungkook’s head. “Were you studying?” he inquired, his fingers brushing through Jungkook's hair.

Jungkook hummed in response. “My baby,” Mingyu murmured, a warm smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t call me those sweet names,” Jungkook protested, his cheeks tinged pink.

“Jungkook,” Mingyu called, his voice more serious now, prompting Jungkook to turn and meet his gaze. “I love you.”

A soft smile spread across Jungkook’s face. “I know,” he replied quietly.

“What if your dad doesn’t accept us?” Mingyu asked, his voice laced with concern.

“We’ll talk to him,” Jungkook assured.

“And if I drink again?” Mingyu teased.

“I’ll kick you,” Jungkook laughed.

“What if someone comes between us?” Mingyu asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Nobody’s going to come between us,” Jungkook said firmly.

“Just think, what if you find someone more handsome and rich in London?” Mingyu joked, though his eyes searched Jungkook’s for reassurance.

“Nobody can match my boy’s freak,” Jungkook replied, pinching Mingyu’s nose playfully.

Mingyu smiled, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s fingertips. “What if…” Mingyu began again, but Jungkook stopped him, placing a hand over his lips.

“You’re overthinking. Go home safely. It won’t end well if Dad catches you like this,” Jungkook warned gently.

“Hmm. So, I should go?” Mingyu asked.

Jungkook nodded. “Will I get a kiss before I leave?” Mingyu asked, pouting endearingly.

Jungkook laughed, leaning against the window rail. He was about to press his lips to Mingyu’s when his mother’s voice suddenly boomed in the room.

“You haven’t drunk the coffee?” Mrs. Jeon asked, standing in the doorway.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock as he spun around to face her. He blinked rapidly, trying to appear casual. “What?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Mm? Ah. N-nothing. I was just closing the windows,” he said hurriedly, closing the curtains in one swift motion. He walked nervously toward his bed.

“Aren’t you drinking this?” Mrs. Jeon asked, eyeing the untouched latte.

“Mm? But it’s cold now,” Jungkook replied, laying comfortably on the bed. Just then a flying pencil pouch hit him squarely in the chest. “Ouch! I’ll drink it,” he said quickly, jumping up and rushing to the table. He downed the latte in a few gulps and handed the cup back to her.

Mrs. Jeon nodded in satisfaction and left the room, turning off the light behind her.

In the quiet darkness, Jungkook walked to the window, his bare feet padding softly against the floor. He pulled back the curtain slightly, peering into the night. The street was empty, the soft hum of the distant city the only sound. He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mingyu, but there was no trace of him.

"I hope you reach home safe, Gyu," Jungkook whispered, his breath fogging the cool glass as his gaze lingered on the spot where Mingyu had stood just moments before.

With a sigh, he let the curtain fall back into place, the room once again cloaked in shadow. He turned away from the window, and climbed into bed. The lingering hope that he and Mingyu would soon be together in a place where their love could be free kept him warm at night.

A week passed in a blur for Jungkook. The days were a monotonous cycle of test preparation, leaving little room for anything else. His world had shrunk to the confines of his room, where the black printed letters in his textbooks became his only companions. Every waking hour was consumed by study, the weight of his dreams pressing heavily on his shoulders.

During this time, Jimin's news of receiving his visa to Germany struck Jungkook with a pang of bittersweet emotions. While he was genuinely happy for his friend, it also deepened his own sense of inadequacy. Yet, he took Jimin's success as a source of inspiration, channeling his sadness into a fierce determination to excel. He threw himself into his studies with renewed vigor, desperate to make his dream a reality.

Finally, the day he had been preparing for arrived. Jungkook sat for the test, his heart pounding in his chest. He poured every ounce of effort into it, hoping it would be enough.

The next week was a grueling wait, filled with anxiety and sleepless nights. The result loomed over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over his every thought. His stress was palpable, and seeing him so tense, his grandmother decided to take him to her sister's home, hoping a change of scenery might provide some relief.

At her sister’s home, Jungkook found a small reprieve from his worries. The quiet countryside and the gentle presence of his grandmother offered a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Yet, even in the serene surroundings, his mind remained tethered to the impending result. He barely saw Mingyu during this time, their usual rendezvous replaced by fleeting text messages and quick phone calls.

The day of the result finally came. Jungkook sat in front of the computer, his hands trembling as he opened the page. His heart sank as he read the words: he had failed the speaking test just by one point. The disappointment hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him numb. His world, which had been filled with hope and anticipation, crumbled around him.

The following week was a dark one for Jungkook. He retreated into his room, the weight of failure suffocating him. He barely ate, spoke, or acknowledged anyone. His parents watched helplessly, unsure of how to console their son.

Jimin, ever the supportive friend, visited frequently, bringing messages of encouragement from Mingyu and trying to lift Jungkook's spirits. But Jungkook was inconsolable. He refused Jimin’s invitations to hang out or even accompany him for shopping, isolating himself in his grief.

Jungkook’s room became a sanctuary of sorrow, where he mourned the loss of his dream. The textbooks that once held the promise of a brighter future now seemed like mockery. Each day blurred into the next, filled with silent tears and an overwhelming sense of despair.

"Jungkook, how long are you going to stay locked up in this room?" Mrs. Jeon asked softly, her voice laced with concern as she stepped closer to her son. "Come on, Dad said we should go out to a movie."

Jungkook shook his head, his fingers lazily tracing an unknown pattern on the pillow beneath him. His eyes were distant, lost in a world of his own, the weight of his recent failure still heavy on his heart.

Mrs. Jeon sighed gently, trying a different approach. "Alright then, why don't you go spend some time with Jimin? You haven't seen much of him lately."

Jungkook remained silent, merely laying his head down on the pillow. His mother watched him with a mixture of worry and affection, her fingers tenderly caressing his slightly long hair. She exchanged a glance with her husband, who was quietly lingering in the doorway, sharing her concern.

"Jimin's leaving in two weeks, Jungkook," Mrs. Jeon added, hoping to stir some response. This time, Jungkook hummed faintly, a barely audible acknowledgment.

Mrs. Jeon sighed again, understanding that pushing too hard wouldn't help. "Jimin said he'll be here in a little while. Go on and get ready. We'll all go to the cinema and then have dinner out," she suggested, hoping the prospect of spending time with his friend might lift his spirits.

With that, she left Jungkook alone in his room, closing the door softly behind her. Jungkook nuzzled deeper into his pillow, the soft fabric offering a small comfort. The thought of Jimin leaving tugged at his heart, but the weight of his own disappointment still held him back.

The room fell into a gentle silence, save for the faint sounds of life moving on beyond his door. Slowly, he closed his eyes, letting the quietness wash over him as he tried to gather the strength to face the world outside once more.

After some time, Jungkook heard the soft creak of his door opening. He glanced up to see Jimin stepping inside, his arms loaded with a few shopping bags.

"These are from your boyfriend," Jimin said, plopping the bags onto the bed with a small huff. "He’s going crazy because you’re holed up in here like a hermit."

Jungkook didn’t respond, simply pouting as he remained seated on the bed, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric. His silence didn’t deter Jimin, who planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Have you looked at yourself lately?" Jimin asked, concern laced in his voice. "You look terrible. Those eye bags are getting out of control."

Jungkook gave a half-hearted shrug, his gaze fixed on the floor. Jimin sighed, sitting down beside him and nudging him lightly. "Jungkook, this isn’t the end of the world. You can reapply, or you could even consider applying to my university in Germany. They have great culinary courses."

"I don’t want to," Jungkook mumbled, turning his head away, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You’re really testing my patience," Jimin said, shaking his head in frustration. "At least look at what your boyfriend got you."

Reluctantly, Jungkook reached for the nearest bag and pulled out a small teddy bear and a box of chocolates, his favorites. He held them for a moment, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face before fading. He moved on to the next bag, which revealed several tiffin boxes filled with snacks he loved.

"If you keep this up, you’re going to turn into a panda," Jimin teased, gesturing to Jungkook’s dark circles and the mountain of snacks. "Dark circles and all these treats? You’ll be rolling around like a ball soon."

Jungkook gave a weak chuckle but quickly returned to his sullen demeanor. He began putting everything back into the bags, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Okay, listen," Jimin said, turning to face him fully. "I’ve been thinking about you all week, and I’ve come up with an idea. It might sound a bit out there, but hear me out."

Jungkook’s interest piqued slightly, though his eyes remained downcast. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Jimin took a deep breath. "How about you marry my brother?"

The room fell into a stunned silence. Jungkook stared at Jimin as if he had just grown a second head. "My head is already hurting too bad." he finally managed to say, his voice laced with annoyance.

"I know it sounds crazy," Jimin admitted quickly. "But think about it. My brother works in the UK, has citizenship there, and could easily help you get over there."

Jungkook frowned, his mind whirling. "But... Gyu..." he trailed off.

"You can take him once you get your own visa," Jimin explained. "Our priority is to get you there first, right?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, still grappling with the idea. "I wouldn’t want to marry anyone but Gyu," he whispered.

"Cool. Then you can sit here and cry while I leave," Jimin said, standing up dramatically. He was halfway from the bed when Jungkook grabbed his hand.

"Wait," Jungkook said, his grip tightening. "How would we explain this to our families? And what about your brother? Would he even agree to something like this?"

Jimin shrugged. "We can script a whole drama for the family. As for my brother, well, that’s something we’d have to work on."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his temples. "This sounds so complicated."

"Nothing worthwhile comes easy," Jimin pointed out. "Sometimes, you have to take risks to get what you want."

Jungkook hummed, his mind still racing with doubts. "I don’t know. I need to talk to Gyu about this."

"That’s fair," Jimin said, clapping him on the shoulder. "But first, let’s go to the cinema. Uncle agreed to watch Barbie with us, and he promised to get me a pair of sneakers afterward."

Jungkook hesitated, glancing at the bags and then back at Jimin. Slowly, he nodded, feeling a small spark of normalcy return. "Okay," he said softly, standing up. "Let’s go."

The Jeon family, along with Jimin, made their way to the cinema, the atmosphere light and filled with a sense of relief. Mr. Jeon smiled as he watched Jungkook eagerly grab his favorite bucket of popcorn, his eyes bright with excitement, a stark contrast to the past few weeks.

"He’s just like you, a bit too dramatic," Mrs. Jeon teased her husband, nudging him gently.

Mr. Jeon chuckled, draping his arm around his wife's shoulder. "Well, at least he’s out of the house now." With that the family went inside the theatre.

As the previews ended, the family took their seats, the room dimming as the movie began. The vibrant colors of Barbie filled the screen, captivating the audience. Jungkook settled into his seat, allowing himself a rare moment of relaxation.

Halfway through the film, Jungkook felt the seat beside him shift. Startled, he turned to see Mingyu quietly slipping into the chair. His heart skipped a beat.

"You look like that.. a living Barbie," Mingyu whispered with a soft smile, his eyes never leaving Jungkook.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise. "Gyu... what are you doing here?" he whispered back, glancing quickly at his parents, who were engrossed in the movie.

"I’ve been waiting to see you," Mingyu said softly. "I missed you, Jungkook."

A wave of guilt washed over Jungkook. "I’m sorry. I couldn’t face you. I... I feel like I failed us," he admitted, his voice trembling.

Mingyu's hand found Jungkook’s, their fingers intertwining. "Don’t say that. You didn’t fail us," he reassured him.

Jungkook’s gaze darted nervously to his parents again before returning to Mingyu. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice barely audible.

Mingyu squeezed his hand gently. "Is it about the plan Jimin mentioned? He already told me," Mingyu said, his tone calm.

"I’m nervous, Gyu. It sounds so... absurd," Jungkook confessed, his brow furrowed with worry.

"It doesn’t have to be," Mingyu replied. "It’s Jimin’s brother we’re talking about. He’ll understand. He’s family."

Jungkook hesitated, doubt clouding his expression. "You really think so?"

Mingyu nodded confidently. "Yes. Especially because it’s Jimin’s brother. He’ll support us."

"But it feels wrong. I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do," Jungkook murmured.

"You’re overthinking it," Mingyu said softly. "Focus on us. This plan can help us avoid a lot of unnecessary hurdles, like the bank deposit part. We can save that money."

Jungkook looked down at their hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on Mingyu’s skin. "It still feels strange."

"It’s not ideal for me either," Mingyu admitted. "But do we have any other option? We just need to try. The marriage part is just on paper. You’ll be there for your studies, and soon, I’ll join you. We’ll make our dreams come true together."

"You really believe that?" Jungkook asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"I do," Mingyu said, lifting Jungkook’s hand and placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. "We’ll get through this together."

Jungkook sighed, a faint smile forming on his lips. His eyes flicked back to the screen, the vibrant colors reflecting in his gaze. "Alright," he whispered, leaning into Mingyu’s touch.

..to be continued..