attraction.

Wedding Dress. 1/1

because there's nothing more romantic than a story with rosekook and wedding dresses and a wedding, right?

It had been a while.

Five years, to be exact.

She thinks that the first few months were the hardest because he simply was everywhere, but slowly, her mind was beginning to forget him too. It had been five years since Park Chaeyoung stepped down from the spotlight and vanished into thin air where even her closest group members had no word from her. There were rumours circulating the media for the first few months, that Park Chaeyoung had died.

Perhaps, a part of her did.

Five years has passed and she's made a name for herself. Not as an idol but as an independent wedding dress shop owner and designer in Jeju—one where her name was not as well known, and where her creativity and freedom could roam free without borders.

Rose Bridal Boutique (RBB).

She hopes to never see him again.

On a Wednesday morning, she closes the boutique at the request of a special vip guest who required privacy, but a was a big fan of her designs. It wasn't necessarily rare for her to get celebrities coming in, but surely was quite new to find one that required full anonymity and requested a custom made ballgown.

She is welcomed by two men in suits, followed by a young couple.

For a moment, she thinks her eyes are playing tricks on her.

Jeon Jungkook.

But the surprise in his face, eyes widening as their eyes make contact confirm her suspicions.

She admits, that his fiancé has some sort of a resemblance to her.

Ashy blonde hair. Tall. A bright and charismatic smile.

The woman beside him starts introducing herself, making small talk about how thankful she is at the opportunity and for accommodating to their needs, given that her fiancé was a global superstar and that their relationship was still a secret. But honestly, not a single word was hitting her, feeling her body almost frozen—paralyzed by the presence of a ghost she'd tried to forget for years. An awkward silence drenches the room, before he clears his throat, pulling her into reality.

"Ah yes, sorry, I guess I'm a little shock. The honour is mine," her voice is quite and slightly shaken, "... why don't we go into the private room and discuss more about your vision. I'll prepare some drinks, is champagne okay?"

"I don't drink champagne," his voice is deeper than she remembers, "... sparkling water for me will be great."

She knows.

Her mind goes back into a thousand memories of them dining out, and his refusal for champagne, wine and cocktails. He had always had a preference of beer over any other drink. Doing her best, she leads the couple to the room while excusing herself to prepare the drinks. As she heads to the kitchen area, she feels her hand shaking as she pours the glass.

"Careful," his voice is slow, sending shivers down her spine, knowing damn well that he was behind her by the warmth of his breath against her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" She snaps, not bothering to look up.

"I need to use the toilet," he informs her.

"This is the kitchen, turn left from the room that you were in," she speaks softly.

He ignores her, putting his hand over the bottle and pouring it for her.