ESCORT || JIKOOK ✅

8

Jimin pov

"Now, just stay calm," I warn him as the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant where we're meeting my Grandparents.

There are no paparazzi that I can see, but no shortage of people are out and about.

I'm sure to be recognized within seconds of exiting the car, and there will be no end to the exclamations and the pictures.

"Ignore anyone who calls out, don't stop for pictures, don't stop to answer questions, just walk toward the door and pretend you're above it all."

"You've told me this a dozen times already." he rolls his eyes and slides forward in the seat.

"Can we just go inside now? I'm starving."

I sigh and nod as I shove the door open then step out onto the curb with a single smooth motion.

People strolling by on the sidewalks immediately begin craning their necks to see who's coming.

Half whispers and murmurs of, "hey, do you see who that is?"

"Omigosh, it's him.

"Can you believe it?" echo through the crowds.

Most people keep walking, happy with their brief brush with a celebrity.

Others, however, begin pulling out their cellphones, just as I predicted.

"Ready?" I lean toward the interior of the car and offer Jungkook my hand.

At first, I think he's going to knock it away, but he decides to go with it.

After climbing out of the car with my help, he inhales deeply and plants a cheerful smile on his lips as he looks at his surroundings.

"I've never eaten here before," he comments as he looks up at the sign for the restaurant.

It's one of the nicest restaurants in the city and a favorite of my Grandparents.

"This is where my grandfather proposed to my Grandom fifty three years ago."

I slide my hand behind Jungkook's back. "A lot's changed since then, but this restaurant has more or less stayed the same."

"Grandom?" Jungkook asks with a slight frown.

"I've never heard that one before."

"Grand-omega," I explain as I shut the car door.

"They're old fashioned like that."

Jungkook chuckles and takes my arm without being prompted.

"I'm looking forward to meeting them," he says as we begin walking toward the front door.

He hasn't reacted to the cameras or the crowds in the slightest.

He's probably used to being stared at when he's working, and this is no different.

He's a professional, and he's not going to let something like a crowd of gawking passersby get under his skin.

As we enter the restaurant, the smell of amazing food tickles our noses.

It's warm, comfortable, and inviting inside.

I've always enjoyed coming here, but now there's a little bit of tension in the air.

I can see my grandparents sitting at their usual table near the back of the room.

They haven't spotted us yet, but when they do, the charade will officially begin.