"Beneath Their Names"_TAEKOOK_ NAMJIN_ YOONMIN.... JackHope...
"A Soft Start for the Secret Prince"
A Beautiful Morning in the Jeon Estate
The sun had just begun to spill light over the private hills of Gangnam, casting a warm, amber glow over the Jeon family’s grand estate. From the outside, the mansion looked like something plucked out of a dream—tall arched windows, ivy curling over white stone walls, and a garden so precisely maintained that even the roses bloomed on schedule.
It was a beautiful morning.
But in the Jeon household, beauty had always been choreographed.
Down in the glass-walled garden room, the air was filled with the faint scent of blooming jasmine and fresh linen. The staff moved in silence, setting the breakfast table: imported fruits sliced to perfection, eggs from a private farm, and pastries no one really ate but always looked exquisite on fine china.
Jeon Iu, regal and poised, sat already at the head of the table, wrapped in a pale lavender robe with her long hair swept into a loose knot. She sipped her tea like a ballet—every gesture elegant, unhurried.
She didn’t need to speak to control a room. She was born with grace and had perfected silence as a weapon.
At exactly 7:00 a.m., her son appeared.
Jeon Jungkook, still in his post-workout hoodie, hair slightly damp from the shower, stepped into the sunlight like a shadow refusing to fade. His features were sharp, unreadable—an expression carved from years of discipline. Even in stillness, he held the kind of presence that made others shrink back or lean closer.
Jeon Jungkook
“Morning, Mama,” he said, bowing slightly, his voice deep but soft
Jeon Iu
Iu offered a gentle nod. “Your espresso’s ready. And your protein toast.”
She always remembered.
He sat across from her in silence.
The air shifted a moment later when the doors opened again.
Jeon Jong Suk, commanding in his three-piece suit, entered like a quiet storm. His presence filled the room with precision—no wasted words, no unnecessary movements. A self-made empire in the shape of a man.
Jeon Jong Suk
“Jungkook,” he greeted without looking. “We’ve confirmed the Milan offer. If you take the national title this year, the contract will be yours.”
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook didn't blink. “Noted.”
Jeon Jong Suk
“Don’t just note it. Achieve it.”
Jeon Iu
Jeon Iu placed her cup down, eyes flicking between the two. “Let him eat before we conquer the world, darling.”
Jong Suk allowed a faint chuckle—a rare show of amusement—and sat at the table, unfolding his napkin with the grace of someone who knew the weight of his every movement.
The sun warmed the breakfast room through the tall windows, casting golden light over the Jeon family's pristine dining table. Fresh flowers from the estate’s own greenhouse sat in a crystal vase at the center, and the scent of buttery croissants mingled with Iu’s rose tea.
Jeon Iu was the first to notice the rare softness in her husband's eyes as he scanned the table.
Jeon Jong Suk had just taken a sip of his black tea when he set it down and glanced between his wife and son, a quiet smirk forming on his usually stern lips.
Jeon Jong Suk
“You know,” he said suddenly, voice calm but playful, “I dreamed last night that Jungkook finally brought someone home.”
Both Jungkook and Iu paused.
Jeon Jong Suk
“A person, not another trophy,” Jong Suk added dryly.
Jeon Iu
Iu chuckled behind her teacup, one perfectly arched brow raised. “Did this person have a name, or was it just another dream of your control issues?”
Jeon Jong Suk
Jong Suk gave her a mock-offended look before continuing, “No, it was a serious dream. Jungkook brought someone in, said, ‘Dad, this is the love of my life.’ And I fainted. Right into the koi pond.”
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook blinked, caught completely off guard. “You fainted?”
Jeon Jong Suk
“Yes,” Jong Suk said solemnly, “because your mother was already floating there in shock. Clutching her pearls.”
Jeon Iu
Iu laughed—a real, warm laugh. “Please. I’d be the one dragging you out of the pond by your tie.”
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him. “You two are ridiculous.”
Jeon Iu
“And you’re too serious,” Iu said, reaching across to fix a stray lock of his hair. “We don’t want a robot for a son, Jungkook. We want you. Just as you are.”
Jeon Jong Suk
Jong Suk smiled quietly, eyes softer now. “Your mother’s right. We may run half of Asia—but this home? It’s run on love.”
Jeon Jungkook
“And sarcasm,” Jungkook muttered, smiling into his espresso.
Jeon Iu
“Don’t forget good looks,” Iu added with a wink. “You got them from me.”
Jeon Jong Suk
“No,” Jong Suk said smoothly, “he got them from both of us. That’s why we’re the perfect family. Looks, brains, and world domination.”
The three of them shared a quiet laugh. And just for that morning—amidst the power, pressure, and plans for the future—there was no weight on Jungkook’s shoulders.
Just warmth. And the reminder that beneath the status and silence…
His family really was perfect.
Because they loved each other—openly, gently, and without question.
🌸 A Beautiful Morning in the Kim Estate
The soft chime of a crystal chandelier echoed faintly as sunlight poured into the rose-tinted bedroom of the youngest Kim.
Pale blush curtains fluttered gently with the morning breeze from the open balcony, the gold accents in the room catching the early glow of dawn. The walls were a delicate shade of pink velvet, adorned with subtle floral motifs, and everything—from the silk bedsheets to the fluffy designer slippers beside the bed—screamed quiet luxury.
Nestled under a plush mountain of pale pink duvets was Kim Taehyung, the secret son of the President of South Korea, snuggled into his blankets with only his caramel-brown curls peeking out.
His peace, however, was short-lived.
Ding.
Ding.
Dingdingdingdingding.
His phone, somewhere buried in the sea of silk, was vibrating like it had a personal mission to ruin his dreams.
With a dramatic groan, Taehyung reached blindly and finally fished out the culprit—his rose gold iPhone, its screen lighting up with the name:
Park Jimin
[JIMIN 🐣💛]🗨️
> “WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP”
“It’s our first day, Taetae!! You can’t be late!”
“I swear if you oversleep I’m dragging you out in your Gucci PJs.”
“I’m serious. I’ll do it. I’ve done worse.”
“ALSO WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?? 😳 SEND PIC.”
Taehyung blinked blearily at the texts before letting his head flop back on his pillow.
Kim Taehyung
“Park Jimin,” he mumbled into the silk. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Still, a small smile tugged at his lips.
This was Jimin. His best of the best friend. His safe place. The only person who knew who he really was—the hidden heir, the soft-spoken son of the nation’s leader, and someone who simply wanted to live freely, study art, and not be treated like a crown.
He finally sat up, sheets falling around him like petals.
Kim Taehyung
“First day,” he whispered to himself.
He got up, stretched, and walked barefoot across the heated floor to his closet—which looked more like a designer showroom. Rows of neatly arranged outfits in pastels, creams, and soft browns gleamed in order.
He chose a loose ivory sweater, slim beige trousers, and his signature gold-rimmed glasses. Simple. Soft. Unassuming.
The opposite of who the world expected him to be.
After one last look in the mirror, he grabbed his phone and sent a selfie to Jimin with a caption:
Kim Taehyung
> “Happy now, sunshine?”
Park Jimin
Jimin replied instantly.🗨️
> “ANGEL 😭😩 let’s SLAY day one!! 💅✨”
“Want a ride?”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung smiled.
> “I’ll walk. Need some air before reality starts.”
And with that, he slipped out quietly, guards and staff already in position to ensure his privacy. No one greeted him with formal bows. That had been the deal. His father had kept his promise: let Taehyung live as a normal student. No headlines. No flashing cameras. Just… life.
The morning was soft and beautiful.
And Taehyung didn’t know it yet…
But somewhere across the city, a certain cold-eyed basketball captain was starting his day too.
And their paths were about to cross.
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