Taehyung ignored him, gaze locked on Jisoo. "He's bothering you." "No," she snapped. "He's not." The lie was thin. Taehyung took a step closer. "Then why are you yelling at me instead of him?" Silence. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "He's my friend," she said tightly. The word felt wrong the moment it left her mouth. Taehyung's brows knit together. "Your... what?" "My friend," she repeated. "So just-leave it." He laughed once, sharp and incredulous. "Since when do you have a friend like this?" The guy's face darkened. "Watch your mouth." Taehyung finally turned to him, eyes cold. "Or what?" "Tae-!" Jisoo hissed. Taehyung looked back at her, stunned now-not angry, not yet, just genuinely shaken. "You never mentioned him. Not once." "I don't owe you explanations," she said, voice trembling with something dangerously close to panic. "That's not what this is," Taehyung said quietly. "This is about him." The guy scoffed. "You don't know anything about her." Taehyung's jaw tightened. "I know more than you, enough to see when she's uncomfortable."

dropping it on the table. Tonight already felt like a waste. She was about to rest her chin on her palm when- A shadow stopped in front of her. She looked up only halfway, just enough to see a jawline carved by God and lit by neon. The guy had messy dark hair and eyes that shimmered under the strobing lights-eyes that looked like they belonged to someone who laughed easily, but didn't tonight. He leaned slightly forward, trying to get her attention. "Want to dance?" he asked, voice low but clear even over the music. Jisoo blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened automatically. "Yeah," she said, waving dismissively, "I'll come in a moment." She didn't even look fully at him. She didn't think she needed to. Her phone buzzed again. She looked down.

Mrs. Kim cleared her throat softly, as if to remind them they weren't alone. "Taehyung," she said lightly, "why don't you sit down? I've just made a very interesting offer to Miss Jisoo." He turned slightly toward his mother, still visibly tense. "You didn't." "Oh, I did," Mrs. Kim said with a calm smile. "She's perfect for the role." Jisoo felt his eyes on her again, heavier now, colder. "Of course you agreed," he muttered. "I didn't," she shot back immediately. "But nice to know how low you think of me." He looked at her like he was trying to read every layer of her - and like he didn't like what he was finding. "Whatever this is," he said finally, voice clipped and sharp, "stay out of it." Jisoo tilted her head, that mischievous spark back in her eyes. "Make me."

Taehyung hesitated, staring toward the faint shadow behind Jisoo's curtain. >Taehyung: ...Got new neighbors. >Hoseok: Some girls? Tell me they're hot. Taehyung bit down a grin. >Taehyung: A family with one girl. The chat exploded. >Jimin: OH??? >Daehan: This man's on house arrest and still pulling girls. >Seojun: Respect. >Hoseok: Describe. Taehyung typed, then deleted. Typed again. Deleted. He wasn't about to write poetry about the girl he saw for literally ten seconds. >Taehyung: Black hair. Pretty. That's all. >Jimin: Bro that's the vaguest shit ever. >Daehan: Did you flirt? Taehyung's ears burned. >Taehyung: Tried. >Seojun: USED THE SMILE? Taehyung exhaled loudly through his nose. >Taehyung: Yes. >Hoseok: And?? Taehyung dropped his face into his palm. >Taehyung: My ankle monitor screamed like a dying robot. In front of her.

Taehyung blinked. "What are you-" "Your side," she said, pressing the tape down with surgical precision, "and my side." He blinked again. "Wait-" "You stay over there," she continued, gesturing like she was performing a ritual, "and I stay over here. You don't cross the line. No socks, no shoes, no coffee cups. No humming. No existing past the tape." Taehyung stared at her for a beat... then burst out laughing. "You've got to be kidding." "I've never been more serious in my life."

"You weren't supposed to see it yet," he says quietly. She crosses her arms, trying to shield herself from the sudden, stupid ache inside. "Why is she in it?" His answer is soft. Deadly soft. "Because you're not complete without her." Jisoo's nails bite into her palms. "She's weak," she says. "She left you." Taehyung steps closer, slow. "She's part of the story whether you like it or not." "I'm not her." "No," he agrees, voice dropping lower. "You're the one who stayed." The words land somewhere between a compliment and a curse. He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb grazing her cheek. "There's only room for one muse when it's finished," he whispers.

It started on Monday. He was late to their tutoring session. Not drastically, but Taehyung wasn't usually late anymore - not since they'd started... whatever it was they'd started. Their rhythm. Their uneasy, teasing, careful balance. He slid into the library seat with a quick, "Sorry," barely meeting her eyes. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and she noticed the faint tremble in his fingers as he reached for his pen. Jisoo narrowed her eyes. "Did you eat today?" "Hmm?" He didn't look up, already flipping through the textbook. "Taehyung." "I'm fine." That was the answer she kept getting.

"Not bad," he said, nudging her skate with the toe of his sneaker. "You almost looked like a real skater back there." "Wow. A compliment without a side of sarcasm. Are you feeling okay, Skater Boy?" He turned his head toward her, eyebrow raised. "Skater Boy?" "You know," she said, smirking as she sat up and tugged off her wrist guards, "black hoodie, late-night skating, annoying levels of confidence-if Avril Lavigne had a fever dream, it'd be you." He let out a low laugh. "Okay, Seoul, that's the worst nickname I've ever heard." "Good," she said sweetly. "It's supposed to sting."

It was happening. The first slow dance of the night. And Jisoo was... alone. Across the room, she spotted Taehyung. Nari was tugging at his wrist, clearly mouthing something-probably asking for the dance. She leaned close, lips grazing his ear, dress pressed to his side. It was obvious. Expected. She was his date. But Taehyung's eyes weren't on her. They found Jisoo. Again. And stayed there. He stepped back from Nari. Whatever he said, it made her blink in disbelief, her lips parting in a quiet protest. But Taehyung had already turned. He was walking toward Jisoo. With purpose.

Jisoo started packing up. "Leaving already?" Jihyun teased. "I have homework." "You have a shrine." Jisoo swatted her friend with her sketchbook and slid off the bench. "Come on." But just as she turned to go, something happened. The basketball bounced once, rolled, and landed near the base of the bleachers-close to her sketchbook bag. Taehyung jogged over to retrieve it. She froze. He looked up. Their eyes met. For the first time in years, they were just a few feet apart. His gaze dropped-only for a second-to the sketchbook she hadn't zipped all the way. The top page fluttered open. A pencil sketch. His face. Mid-smile. Too accurate. Time slowed. Then he blinked, smiled politely, and picked up the ball. "Hey. Sorry." He didn't say her name. Didn't act like he remembered. He turned back toward the court. The moment passed. Jisoo's heart sank. She zipped up her bag so fast the pencil snapped inside.