A New Beginning

Jungkook's outfit:

The wind carried a faint melody of the ocean as Jungkook stepped off the bus and into the heart of Jeju Island. The salty air and sunlit streets welcomed him with a peace he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time since his military service, he wasn’t Jungkook, the idol, the heartthrob, or the global superstar. He was just... a man looking for something he couldn’t quite name.

The noise of the outside world seemed miles away here, swallowed by the rhythmic crash of the waves and the chirping of distant birds. Jeju Island felt like a haven, far removed from the constant attention and pressure of his life as a member of BTS. The city, with its flashing lights and screaming crowds, seemed a distant memory.

As he wandered aimlessly, his boots crunching against the gravel road, a small, weathered café caught his eye. A hand-painted sign above the door read “Sea & Soul” in bold, artistic letters, and the faint sound of an acoustic guitar hummed through the air. He had been craving solitude ever since he’d returned from the army, desperate for a place where he could escape from the world that always seemed to be watching him.

Cafe:

Drawn by the name—and the promise of peace—he pushed open the door, a bell above jingling softly as he entered. Inside, the air was warm, smelling of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet tang of paint. The walls were lined with vibrant paintings of Jeju’s beaches and sunsets, each more mesmerizing than the last. The small space was filled with the soft hum of ambient music and the quiet rustle of brushes against canvas.

Behind the counter stood a woman, completely absorbed in her work. Her back was to him as she added delicate details to a painting, her brow furrowed in concentration. A smear of orange paint streaked across her cheek, but she seemed unaware of it. Her movements were fluid, graceful—like someone lost in their own world, painting her dreams into reality.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t seen anyone this unbothered by his presence in years. It was refreshing. He walked further into the café, glancing at the artwork that covered every inch of the walls. It was clear that the woman wasn’t just a barista—she was an artist, too

Y/N's outfit:

“Excuse me,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the calm silence.

The woman turned abruptly, startled. Her eyes widened for a moment as they met his, and then she quickly regained her composure. Jungkook saw a flicker of recognition in her gaze, but there was no wide-eyed gasp, no frantic reaching for her phone. Just curiosity.

“What can I get you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the momentary pause.

Jungkook chuckled softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Surprise me,” he replied, his voice low and warm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, clearly assessing his playful tone. But without missing a beat, she moved to prepare his order. Jungkook watched her hands—slightly smudged with paint—work with precision as she poured the coffee. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she moved.

She placed the coffee in front of him with a smile. “Here you go. One black coffee, just as you asked.”

Jungkook took a sip, savoring the rich, bold taste. “This is perfect,” he said, his eyes meeting hers again.

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just coffee.”

“Not just coffee,” he replied, glancing around the café. “This place... it’s special. Your artwork—it’s amazing.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I’m trying to finish this painting for an exhibit next week. It’s been a long process.”

Jungkook nodded, impressed by her quiet dedication. “Do you sell your paintings?”

“Sometimes,” she replied, “but mostly, I just create for myself. It helps me keep my sanity.”

Jungkook’s smile deepened. “I get that.”

There was a moment of quiet as they exchanged a glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He didn’t know why, but something about her made him feel... grounded.

Before either of them could say anything more, the door swung open, letting in a burst of cold air and a group of loud tourists. Jungkook, sensing the opportunity to leave before the attention grew overwhelming, pushed back his chair.

“Hey!” Y/N called out after him, “Don’t forget your change!”

Jungkook paused, his fingers brushing the door handle. He glanced back at her, his smile widening. “Keep it,” he said, his tone playful. “Consider it support for the arts.”

Y/N frowned, but there was a twinkle in her eye as she watched him leave. He hadn’t even given his name—yet there was something about him that made her feel like she already knew him. A sense of familiarity that she couldn’t explain.

Meanwhile, Jungkook stepped outside and took a deep breath of the crisp sea air, the taste of coffee still lingering on his tongue. He walked down the quiet street, glancing back over his shoulder at the café one last time. For the first time in years, he felt like he’d found a place he could be himself—no cameras, no pressure, just a moment of peace.

As the day slowly faded into evening, a spark of something unfamiliar—something exciting—bloomed in his chest.

Fate had a way of pulling people together, and this encounter felt like the start of something... unforgettable.

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