Nascent

Chapter Eleven

Lily's POV

Lily sank into the plush leather seat of her car, frustration etched across her features. "That arrogant jerk," she murmured to herself, her gaze fixed on the steering wheel. The impending wait for her car to be fixed loomed like a storm on the horizon. Seeking solace, she reached for her phone, activating her playlist in a fervent attempt to drown out the vexation.

As the first chords of "Just the Two of Us" filled the car, the memory of Taehyung's rendition played vividly in her mind. His voice, like liquid velvet, resonated with each note. A sly smirk adorned his face as he locked eyes with her, and a flush crept onto her cheeks. Swiftly, she dismissed the song with a determined shake of her head. "No, not happening."

With a calculated swipe, she changed the tune, opting for the upbeat melody of "Saturday Love." The familiar lyrics served as a balm, the rhythmic hum accompanying her until she arrived at her appointment.

Once home, Lily navigated the opulence of her wardrobe, selecting a form-fitting ankle-length dark purple dress adorned with intricate red lacy floral patterns. The golden jewellery she chose sparkled delicately—earrings dangled, a necklace rested gracefully on her neck, and a ring adorned her finger. Her chestnut curls, meticulously curled, cascaded down her shoulders.

In black heels that accentuated the dress, she completed her ensemble with a matching purse, embodying an aura of elegance and sophistication. Lily, born into affluence, was forced to keep her identity as a jazz club singer clandestine, shielding her passion from the disapproving eyes of her family. And singing with the name of Celine, which translates to heavenly in French which is how many would describe her performing voice.

Arriving at the recently opened jazz club, Lily marvelled at the grandeur that greeted her. Round tables, draped in cream off-white tablecloths, held carefully placed drinks. The chandeliers cast a soft radiance over the room, illuminating a food buffet and a bar adorned with stools and attentive bartenders. The attendees, elegantly attired couples and groups of friends, added to the ambience of refined revelry.

Taking the stage, Lily found herself enveloped in the dimmed glow, her silhouette defined by the spotlight. The band, an assembly of musical virtuoso—a saxophonist, trumpeter, cellist, and drummer—welcomed her with a nod. As she began the opening notes of Close to You by Carpenters, the lights danced in synchrony with her melody, transforming the stage into a tableau of enchantment. Her voice, gentle and melodic, wrapped the timeless lyrics in a lullaby's embrace, earning fervent cheers and applause from the captivated audience.

Concluding her set, Lily gracefully descended from the stage, seeking respite at the bar. To her astonishment, standing amidst the swirl of conversation and clinking glasses was none other than the cause of her earlier vexation—Kim Taehyung.

Lily couldn't resist stealing a glance as she turned around, finding Taehyung's silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the jazz club. His off-white cream pants were complemented by a thick white belt, emphasising the casual yet refined style he effortlessly carried. The striped sweater, a palette of browns and beige, clung to him with a certain boyish charm, its V-cut giving a teasing glimpse of his collarbone. His Celine circular leopard printed glasses hung on his sweater. His caramel hair, now more curled than she recalled, framed his features, adding a touch of allure to his presence. It was evident he had been engrossed in conversation with the manager, showering them with commendations for the exceptional job done on the establishment.

Sensing her gaze, Taehyung turned around, his eyes locking with hers. In an attempt to hide her curiosity, Lily quickly averted her eyes, but it was futile. He acknowledged her presence with a knowing smile and, as if choreographed, made his way to the bar. There, he ordered a drink with a languid elegance that seemed to linger in the air. His movements, calculated and deliberate, brought him to a stool, strategically chosen just one away from hers.