The Clandestine Us

Eighteen

───── ❝ Jungkook's POV ❞ ─────

I wasn't sure how the three of them always managed to lift the mood, but somehow, they did. Their energy was contagious, lifting the weight off my thoughts and pulling me into the moment. Before I knew it, we were off, each of us in our own car, following each other to our next stop.

We ended up at a karaoke house, the kind where the rooms are soundproof, and the neon signs outside flash just bright enough to catch your eye. Once inside, it didn't take long for us to turn the space into our own mini-concert.

Eunwoo took the mic first, his smooth vocals filling the room as if we were at one of his fan meetings. Yugyeom followed, effortlessly hitting every riff and high note like he was born for it, while adding a touch of his signature flair.

"Okay, let me show you how it's done," Mingyu said, grabbing the mic and matching the song's energy with vocals that blended so well.

If someone see us, they'll think we were on a collaboration stage. He even threw in some playful choreography, which of course had me joining in without hesitation. I couldn't resist jumping in either.

"You guys aren't the only ones who can steal the show," I teased, stepping up for a duet with Mingyu.

Our rendition of Mic Drop turned into an all-out performance, complete with perfectly synchronized moves and ad-libs that had everyone hyped up. The four of us were so in sync, it almost felt like we were rehearsing for a real stage.

But the fun came to a halt when Eunwoo's voice suddenly cut through the laughter.

"Oh fuck," he muttered, staring at his phone.

The silence that followed made his words echo louder than expected.

"What's wrong?" Mingyu asked, pausing mid-dance with a playful look of concern.

"It's late," Eunwoo groaned. "I have filming tomorrow. I'm doomed." He started gathering his stuff in a hurry.

"Ah, crap. Same here," Yugyeom said, pulling out his phone. "Why didn't anyone warn me we were this deep into the night?"

I glanced at the clock. It's past midnight.

"I only have dance practice tomorrow, so I could go another round, but... yeah, let's call it a night."

Mingyu sighed dramatically, still holding the mic like it was his lifeline.

"You're all such killjoys! What am I supposed to do now, serenade myself?"

His exaggerated sulk had us cracking up.

"You can always record it and send it to us for review," I teased.

In the end, I paid for the drinks, Mingyu took care of the food, and Yugyeom and Eunwoo split the room and parking fee.

As we stepped out into the cool night air, we each headed to our own cars, where our drivers were waiting. None of us wanted to take any risks driving after even a small amount of alcohol—not when Jennie's voice was perpetually in my head. "Don't be reckless," she'd always nag, with her hands on her hips like a strict manager.

I slid into my car and watched the others do the same, their faces still glowing with the energy of the night. Tomorrow would bring packed schedules and relentless rehearsals, but for tonight, we had fun.

━━ •⩊• ━━

The sound of my doorbell jolted me awake. It wasn't just a simple ring—it was persistent, almost demanding, as if the person outside had no patience left. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and forced myself to sit up.