The double doors whooshed open, a wave of cologne and nervous energy washing over the stuffy ballroom. Jimin, Prince Taehyung's ever-present shadow, wrinkled his nose at the sudden assault.
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Taehyung, though, just smirked, like a cat who knew exactly where the fanciest treats were hidden.
The ballroom glittered like a stage, a showcase of perfectly tailored suits and nervous smiles.
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A hundred pairs of eyes, all hopeful and hungry, swiveled towards the entrance.
The air crackled with a different kind of anticipation tonight, thicker than the cloud of hairspray usually hanging in the air.
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"Whoa," Jimin muttered, scanning the sea of hopeful faces. "Operation: Find-Tae-a-Husband is a go, huh?"
Taehyung chuckled, a low rumble that made a couple of guys blush, including a newcomer with strangely familiar, dark eyes peering out from under a mop of blonde hair. "This is Seokjin's idea of a 'mixer,' right?"
"More like Operation: Ship-Tae-Before-He-Gives-Jin-a-heartattack," Jimin deadpanned. "Jin hyung is gonna have a meltdown if you don't at least chat with some people."
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. Smile, small talk, pretend I haven't seen the same flirting techniques used on every royal bachelor ever."
