She's an American songwriter living in South Korea. He's one of the biggest idols on Earth. When they meet, sparks fly - but can they overcome past traumas, and find a happy ending?
A Kim Taehyung fanfic.
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The festival broadcast is going to start in about 25 minutes, so Taehyung goes back into the kitchen to prepare the snacks. I follow him to mix some cocktails for everyone, and Yoongi tags along to supervise. Namjoon offers to help as well, but we all demur, so he stays in the living room to chat with the Wooga hyungs and the other idol guys whose names I've already forgotten.
Taehyung bustles around plating oysters on the half-shell, gamjajeon (mini potato pancakes) with gochujjang sauce for dipping, crostini with smoked salmon and brie, and tiny egg tarts.
I am slicing limes, but can't help watching what he's doing. "Goodness, when you said 'snacks' I thought you were going to open a bag of chips or something!" I remark to him. He gives me an appalled look. "Did you make all of those? I thought you said you couldn't cook!"
He laughs and blushes. "No, I had a caterer make them. I'm just doing a prettier presentation."
Yoongi pauses from cutting limes in half and squeezing the juice from them just long enough to mutter, "Squirrel Trapped in a Garden!" We all laugh.
"Where are the whiskey glasses, Taehyung-ah?" I ask, accidentally using a familiar form of his name. Yoongi shoots me a quick look from under his eyebrows before cleaving a few more limes.
I guess Taehyung noticed too, because he says, "On the shelf above the coffee mugs, 버디 (Birdie)." Yoongi's eyebrows jump toward his hairline, presumably at this new nickname, as well as the implication that I know where Taehyung keeps his coffee mugs.
'Shit,' I think. I open the wrong cupboard on purpose, then say, "Where?" sort of helplessly to Taehyung.
He shoots me a knowing look, and walks over to open the correct cupboard, brushing my forearm with his fingertips as I reach for the glasses. I gasp quietly as a shiver ripples through my whole body, then meet his eyes and give him a tiny headshake, but he just smolders at me. 'Thank goodness his back is to Yoongi!' I think.
I take the first round of lime rickeys out and hand them around to the other guests. Namjoon tells me that I am "the hostess with the mostest," and then we both blush.
"Oh, am I co-hosting now?" I ask him in English. "Nah, I'm just a guest mixologist."
Namjoon laughs awkwardly and takes a sip. "Mmm, delicious!" he says. "It's very fresh!"
Taehyung comes out of the kitchen with a stack of little plates in one hand and the platter of oysters in the other, a towel draped ceremoniously over his left forearm. Yoongi follows with a couple more dishes, and they set them all up on a side table, buffett style. I walk back into the kitchen to set down the cocktail tray, and Taehyung comes in to get the egg tarts. He 'accidentally' brushes up against me, then gives me a devilish smile.
"Yah!" I say in a stage whisper. "Stop flirting! You're embarrassing me."
He apologizes, but he's still grinning as he exits with the tarts.
