Wrong number? || BTS

50. Next Day

Third person POV's

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The dorm was unusually bright for a BTS morning.

“Yah! Wake up! Do you know what time it is—Hyung, open up before I cry right here,” Jungkook’s voice echoed dramatically through the hallway. He stood outside Jin’s door in pajama pants with tiny hearts on them and a loose tee that looked two sizes too big. His arms were crossed, lips in a pout, looking more like a sulking boyfriend than a global superstar.

The door creaked open to reveal Jin, hair fluffy and eyes half-shut. “She’s sleeping. Why are you being louder than the blender in the morning?”

“What I want,” Jungkook said, voice high-pitched from emotion, “is to know why you brought her back without telling me! I was refreshing the group chat every two minutes during rehearsal! Then suddenly—‘We brought Y/N home already.’ That’s it? No emoji? No warning? No chance to walk her back like a gentleman?”

From inside the room, a sleepy grumble interrupted his meltdown.

“Can someone turn off Jungkook’s drama mode... it’s too early...”

Y/N appeared at the door in a hoodie that could fit three Jungkooks, hair looking like it had survived a thunderstorm, and face squished with sleep. She blinked at them like she was still buffering. “Kook... you were being extra in the group chat. All that pouting and throwing shade at Hoseok just because he held my arm for, like, two seconds?”

Jungkook’s ears turned red. “It wasn’t shade… it was just… healthy concern…”

Jin snorted. “You sent a 12-second voice note titled ‘Why I Should’ve Been There.’”

Y/N sighed and brushed past them, mumbling, “I left with Jin ‘cause I needed silence. Not Jungkook’s love letter in 47 texts.”

Jungkook trailed after her like a scolded puppy. “You didn’t even like the GIF I sent of us hugging...”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked past them like a sleep-deprived queen. “I need coffee more than I need this drama-filled fanfiction.”

---

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the chaos had already begun.

Yoongi stood at the stove like a man trying to hold his sanity together. He flipped pancakes with sharp precision, spatula in one hand, judgment in his eyes.

“Namjoon, no—that’s sugar, not salt. And Taehyung—why are you peeling garlic like it’s a banana?!”

Namjoon paused mid-reach toward the seasoning rack, looking guilty. Taehyung blinked at the garlic in his hand, confused. “I thought it was a really small onion…”

Yoongi groaned. “If you two keep ‘helping,’ I’m going to file for a solo career.”

Across the room, Jimin and Hoseok were already seated at the table, quietly munching on strawberries. Hoseok looked calm, but his eyes flicked toward the hallway every time he heard a noise.

“She stayed with Jin?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Jimin nodded. “I think so.”

Hoseok didn’t say anything after that. But the way he started aggressively poking the fruit with his fork didn’t go unnoticed.

---

By the time everyone gathered around the table, breakfast looked more like a sitcom than a meal.

Namjoon knocked over a glass of orange juice trying to pass the butter. Taehyung nearly choked on toast because he was laughing too hard at his own joke. Jin was complaining to Yoongi about the eggs not being “fluffy enough,” and Yoongi threatened to whack him with the spatula.