FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU PARK JIMIN || JIKOOK

♡11.Our First Date♡

Yoongi collapsed on the couch lazily, still wearing his school uniform. He was exhausted and completely done with the day. He closed his eyes, wondering where Jungkook had disappeared to after their first class.

"I'm going crazy of you!" Yoongi huffed and pouted in annoyance.

"Don't you have to attend your math tuition?" Mrs. Min asked, furrowing her brows at her son. She stood behind him, wearing a mild yellow sweater tucked into a white shirt and a brown skirt.

"Uh, yes, Mom. I'm getting ready in a minute." Yoongi jumped up from the couch, startled by his mother's presence.

She nodded, her eyes following him as he climbed the staircase like his life depended on it. She sighed, turning on the TV as she waited for the press conference she had been eager to watch.

Yoongi quickly closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. Was he afraid of his mother? Yup, he definitely was.

"Calm down, Yoongs. It's nothing," he muttered to himself, patting his chest repeatedly before deciding to get ready for his math tuition. A smile crept onto his lips as he thought about possibly seeing Jungkook after class.

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A wide table was placed at the center of the press conference room, with the media and several men in black suits seated side by side in front of the table. There were five seats: two men on the left, two men on the right, and an empty seat in the middle. Cops surrounded the conference room, and a huge crowd gathered outside.

Everyone was patiently waiting for the man who was about to give his speech. Since the event was being broadcast live, the cops were making sure security was tight and up to standard.

"Everything is set to go, Mr. Park," a man in a black suit bowed to the man sitting in front of him. The man, Mr. Park, nodded and adjusted his white suit before heading to the press conference.

The media gasped as the man in his 30s appeared, wearing a white suit and black Chelsea boots, his head held high as he walked like he owned the place. His crescent moon-shaped blue eyes sparkled when he noticed a little girl in a pink gown, who handed him a bouquet to greet him. He gently accepted the bouquet from her and continued walking toward his allotted seat in the middle.

'PARK NAM-MIN' was boldly written on the nameplate on the wide table.

"Congratulations on winning the election, Mr. Park," a reporter began, seizing the opportunity as soon as he got the chance.

"How are you feeling after taking your father's place?" another reporter asked.

Park Nam-min raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk forming on his lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"Feeling? That's an interesting question," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "You see, I don't really 'feel' much about it. I was born for this, so it's less about emotions and more about doing what I do best."

He glanced around the room, his smirk growing. "It's like asking a fish how it feels about swimming. It's just... natural."

A few chuckles were heard from the crowd, and Nam-min continued, his tone dripping with confidence. "But if you're wondering if I feel pressure, no. I'm not here to fill anyone's shoes. I've brought my own, and trust me, they're a perfect fit."

The reporters scribbled furiously, clearly taken by his boldness, as Park Nam-min casually leaned back, exuding effortless control.

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