The first spark

Part 1: Collisions and Cameras

The lights inside the rehearsal studio were painfully white and humming with tension. The kind of air that only idols knew—where bodies moved like perfection, but hearts were stretched thin beneath sweat-drenched T-shirts and hours of silent exhaustion.

Taehyung exhaled slowly as he adjusted his in-ears, scanning the mirrored room. Every reflection bounced his gaze back to himself—styled hair falling over one eye, jaw tight, brows slightly furrowed.

Focus, he told himself. You only get one shot.

“Alright!” the assistant choreographer called out. “One more full run-through before the camera block starts. Let’s keep it clean, people.”

“Clean?” someone muttered behind him. “Easier said than done when he’s in the center.”

Taehyung didn’t have to turn around. He knew that voice.

Jeon Jungkook.

The golden boy of Nova Entertainment.

The media’s obsession.

And apparently, his co-lead for this massive cross-agency year-end collaboration.

Taehyung clenched his jaw but didn’t rise to it. Not today.

“Let’s just get through it,” he said under his breath, stretching his neck side to side.

Jungkook stepped into place beside him, flashing a cocky grin through the mirror. “Try to keep up, Kim.”

Taehyung met his eyes for the first time all day.

Cool. Icy. Unimpressed.

“Worried I’ll outshine you again?”

There was a beat—a flicker in Jungkook’s smirk that faltered just enough to make Taehyung’s pulse jump.

Then the music started.

⸻

The routine was a tangled blend of sharpness and control—Taehyung’s specialty. But Jungkook was all fire. He didn’t move like someone dancing; he moved like someone who couldn’t breathe unless he did.

They danced around each other like magnets—charged and just a little too close.

Spin. Lock eyes. Drop. Step away.

Taehyung caught the heat in Jungkook’s gaze when their shoulders brushed in the final turn, their breath caught in shared silence as the last beat hit.

And for the first time, the silence after the music didn’t feel like relief.

It felt like something had shifted.

The room broke into light claps, but Taehyung barely heard it. He was still looking at Jungkook.

And Jungkook—who usually celebrated with finger guns or smirks—was just looking back. Quiet. Studying.

Like maybe… he’d seen something he didn’t expect.

Part 2: Beneath the Mask

The rehearsal wrapped, but Taehyung didn’t leave immediately.

He lingered in the back corner of the studio, sipping water and scrolling through his messages without reading them. His mind was still on the way Jungkook’s stare lingered after the music ended. He couldn’t decide if it was admiration or mockery—or something else entirely.

“You always stay behind after practice?”

Taehyung looked up sharply.

Jungkook stood in the doorway, still in his sweat-drenched shirt, towel tossed over one shoulder. His hair was damp, the dark strands curling at the ends.

“I like quiet,” Taehyung replied, guarded.

“Didn’t think silence suited you,” Jungkook said. “You’re usually the loud one in interviews.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “You memorize my interviews?”

A smirk tugged at Jungkook’s lips. “Only the ones where you try too hard.”

Ouch.

Taehyung stood up, grabbing his hoodie. “You really think you know everything, don’t you?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I know enough to say I’ve seen the mask slip once or twice.”

That made Taehyung pause.

He turned, voice colder than he intended. “You don’t know me, Jeon. You only see what the cameras show you.”

Jungkook’s smile softened—just a little.

“I’m not talking about the cameras.”

Taehyung blinked. For a fraction of a second, Jungkook looked almost… human. Not the cocky golden boy. Not the idol adored by millions. Just a boy his age, worn out, hiding something in his eyes.

But the moment passed.

“See you at stage call,” Jungkook said, tossing a two-finger salute before disappearing down the hallway.

Taehyung sat back down slowly, his heart thudding a little too loud in his chest.

Part 3: Spotlight Shadows — the backstage tension before their first big stage together.

⸻

The night of the televised collaboration arrived.

Backstage was a mix of nerves and adrenaline—a kaleidoscope of lights, makeup artists fussing, and the muffled roar of the crowd beyond heavy curtains.

Taehyung sat in his chair, fingers tapping a restless rhythm. His phone buzzed repeatedly, but he ignored the messages—none of it mattered now.

The stage manager’s voice crackled in his earpiece:

“Five minutes to air. Get ready.”

Jungkook appeared beside him, already dressed in the sleek black and gold outfit they’d rehearsed endlessly.

His smile was easy, but his eyes flickered with something deeper—a question, or a challenge.

“You ready?” Jungkook asked, leaning closer so only Taehyung could hear.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They moved toward the stage entrance together, footsteps echoing in the cavernous hall.

Then, just as the music started, a camera crew caught a glimpse of their hands brushing.

A heartbeat later, Jungkook’s fingers entwined with Taehyung’s.

The flash went off.

The world outside would never be the same.

The applause thundered in the arena, a roaring tide that pushed and pulled at Taehyung’s chest. The stage lights were harsh and hot, sweat sliding down his spine, but all he could feel was the warmth of Jungkook’s hand in his.

Backstage, the flood of cameras and flashing phones made it impossible to hide. The brief touch, caught on live broadcast, sent the media into a frenzy almost instantly.

“Did you see that?” a reporter whispered urgently. “They’re holding hands! Is this a new couple?”

Taehyung swallowed the panic rising in his throat.

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “Let them talk.”

But when they stepped off the stage, the backstage area was suddenly colder, eyes sharper. Whispers spun like wildfire.

The collaboration was supposed to be about music, not headlines.

Yet Taehyung felt the undeniable spark—something real—between them.

And it was just the beginning.

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