One of the things Taehyung had learnt over the span of twenty three years of being alive was that you would never notice the perfume or cologne a person was wearing unless you found them attractive. And he would know all about it, wouldn't he? Because the day he had caught a whiff of apples and cinnamon on Jimin instead of sweat and dust was the day their relationship had changed from soulmates to soulmates.
So when he heard Jungkook mutter dazedly about cherry blossoms under his breath he could almost see the single red thread wrapped around his ankle weaving itself around the wrist of the girl, the bartender, behind him.
What that indicated, he wasn't sure. Lust - yes. Love - he had no idea. But he could see how she would appeal to Jungkook - everything about her screamed danger, and the youngest seemed to be the kind who was drawn towards danger. It looked like he would just have to wait and see what happened.
Taehyung pulled himself away from his thoughts just in time to be met with rejection and outright dismissal from the bartender while she gave them a cursory once over. It was something most people did while dealing with him. They barely spared him more than a glance. He could almost see them putting him under the label 'harmless' or 'airhead' in their heads. He supposed he seemed to them like those stereotypical blondes in movies who kept giggling all the time.
And Taehyung generally never minded because he liked staying invisible - it allowed him to be privy to secrets that were supposed to stay secrets. It made him powerful.
(Besides, Taehyung knew something about those blondes that nobody else did - they were the ones who knew everything.)
Just like right then when he caught the look of blatant distaste on the bartender's face as her eyes flicked between Jin and Hoseok. Something he was pretty sure she hadn't meant for anyone to see. In particular the two men in question, as evidenced by her schooling her features into a neutral expression the moment Jin turned towards her. Interesting. Because she looked like the kind of person who always spoke her mind.
"Seriously, Agusta? These boards?"
"You asked me for a daiquiri - I'm showing you what we have, Seokjin."
Polite. With a slight undercurrent of disgust, though? Oh, she definitely didn't like him. But why?
"Come on. These are boards that kids use to train. Or that people buy for fun. Using these to race is equal to suicide!"
The girl, Agusta - probably a pseudonym for her delicate Korean features did not fit it well, picked at her long painted nails. "I don't see any racers here."
Tae sensed the perfectly masked frustration rolling off Jin in waves at her dismissal. Oh, he was good. Very diplomatic. He had seen only one person before who could mask their emotions so perfectly - Jimin. And it had taken Jimin 18 years of hell for that to happen.
(It had taken Taehyung five long years to see through it.)
"They know how to hoverboard, Agusta, and you know we have the money - why are you stalling?"
Smoky eyes finally met Jin's hazel ones. She took a step forward, an irritated huff leaving her.
"Them - you call them racers?" She scoffed, turning to glance at the group, and in particular at him , in disgust.
