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Jungkook's POV
8th August, 6:12 pm
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"Are the two of you on a date?"

"What? No!" Jennie practically shouts, her response to the male barista's absurd question is overly loud. Her quick denial puts me at ease, even though I had anticipated this kind of misconception.

"Oppa, you don't want me to die with more dating scandals, do you?" She blinks when Taejoon hyung shakes his head with an awkward smile, as if he's remorseful for what he said. He moves a carrier filled with soda bottles from the counter to the back kitchen.

When he returns, an uncomfortable silence settles between us. Jennie is glaring at him, and he maintains that smile. My eyes shift back and forth between them, and I feel like I should say something. "Ugh, hyung, if you are going jump to conclusions so quickly, think about what those obsessive sasaeng fans will do." As soon as I say it, I realize it might not have been a good statement.

He shrugs as if that settles everything and hands me the change, saying, "That's the point. People will definitely question you two. I was just surprised to see you together, you know."

Jennie opens her mouth to say something, but Taejoon interrupts again, saying, "I've seen plenty of people dating here or just hanging out as friends...none of it is my concern anyway. Just grab your coffee when my girlfriend hands it to you." He takes out a damp paper towel and wipes the already spotless countertop.

Jennie firmly plants her hands on her hips and scoffs, "I'm letting it slide though."

I manage a forced smile, burying my hands deeper into my front pocket and hunching my shoulders. I cautiously study Jennie, noticing that she looks kind of triggered. It's the very thing I fear the most. No, it's the thing I used to fear the most. There was a time when I felt compelled not to disappoint people. For that reason, I used to push myself to do things I didn't want to do. I attended events I had no interest in, interacted with people I found painfully difficult to converse with, and wore fake smiles throughout.

And then my mind exploded.

If there is one thing I have learnt from it is that It's better to let other people down than to blow yourself up. However, even after all this time, there's still a part of me that doesn't want to cause harm or end up on anyone's bad side.

It's like the situation I find myself in right now. I've slipped into that highly self-conscious state that occurs when you're with someone new, and you genuinely don't want them to have a negative opinion of you.

Before long, the female barista, also known as Taejoon hyung's girlfriend, returns and hands us our cups of coffee. We receive them, appreciating the frosty chill they should have. I observe her exchanging a mutual smile with Jennie, even though their masks obscure their expressions, and it's as if some unspoken understanding passes between them. Jennie nudges me while directing her gaze and focus toward the female barista. They continue to wave to each other until we reach the door. I pull it open, allowing Jennie to slip through ahead of me.

"Back to the bridge, what do you say?" She inquires as soon as she steps onto the pavement and lowers her mask.

"Back to the bridge? Wouldn't it be a hassle to return all the way along this road?" I respond as I also lower my mask.

"It's a lengthy journey, but it's manageable if you've got time. I'm staying here for the night, so I've got plenty of time to spare, enough to hunt an elephant," she says, slowing her pace to allow me to catch up. To be honest, she walks much faster than most girls I know, at least the only female staff and female cousins I've encountered in my lifetime. I seem to have had bad luck with females.

"Alright, you win," I say, taking an audibly refreshing sip from the cup. I'm naturally a stubborn person, I won't deny that. However, ever since I joined BTS, it's become a habit for me to be the obedient type. The main reason is that all the other members are older than me, and that's the primary factor. It also extends to Jennie, even though she's just one year older than me.

Soon I realize that either she's trying to shake me loose or we are in a speed-walking competition that I'm unaware of. All I can see now is her back because she has managed to walk before me again.

She appears to be in a good mood as she takes lively, bouncing steps, making it seem like her shoes are comfortable. I don't attempt to walk alongside her; instead, I synchronize my steps with hers. It's enjoyable. Her bouncy strides and my brisk ones create an unusual melody accompanied by the sounds of the road.

She comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of nowhere, causing me to stop as if we have bumped into an invisible barrier. She pivots toward me like a robot, wearing an intensely questioning expression on her face.

"But before anything else, can you explain why you called me to meet?" Her inquisitive eyes lock onto mine.

"Oh," I pause, digging my hands into my pocket to retrieve the item in question. "I wanted to return this to you." I extend a pair of sunglasses. The moment her eyes land on it, she inhales sharply and quickly.

"Don't tell me-" She can't complete the sentence, her widened eyes displaying sheer disbelief. She has that most expected I-cant-believe-you-called-me-for-this expression written on her face. I approach her cautiously, handing her the sunglasses. Her face reveals annoyance once more, but at the least, she doesn't look angry.

"Jungkook," she pauses and repeats, "You didn't have to meet me just to return this. I mean, you could have kept it."

"Should I take it back then?" It might sound like a joke, but I'm not joking.

"No, don't even bother now," she scoffs, clearly annoyed. I offer a dry smile that she probably doesn't notice. I give her a moment to adjust before she continues, "Look, I could give this back to you and tell you to keep it again, but I'm not going to do that. Not because I dislike you or anything, but because it would ruin the whole purpose."

"What purpose?" I inquire, perplexed as to what she's referring to that could be compromised.

"The entire purpose of our meeting," she pauses briefly and continues before I can respond, "I'm a straightforward person. I don't enjoy getting into trouble. I already have my fair share of issues, and I assume you do too. I don't want to become entangled in any scandal with you. I have helped you before and now you called me here to give this back to me, so I came. That's it."

"Alright," I respond with a nonchalant shrug. It's not like I mind. "But we're still heading to the bridge, right?"

"Yeah, I don't want to miss the sunset. Pick up the pace," she urges and practically begins to run. She weaves through the slow pedestrians and manoeuvres around the sidewalk scaffolding to avoid slowing down. I didn't feel like running, but I found myself doing so. Look at me being obedient once more, damn.

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Standing on the bridge, I inhale the crisp air gently brushing against my face. I clutch the railings to steady myself, the surface feeling hard and chilled from the cold winds. My gaze is fixed on the water of the Han River, which laps rhythmically against the riverbank, its murky depths painted with yellow and orange hues from the setting sun.

"I'm loving this!" She exclaims, her voice toned down despite her excitement, as she gazes at the sun preparing to dip below the horizon. I find a comfortable position and, instead of focusing on the familiar sight of the Han River and the sunset that I can see from countless spots in Seoul, I silently observe her. She's smiling, and her eyes narrow slightly with each smile. When she catches me staring, I quickly divert my gaze to the river.

"What are you staring at?" She inquires, now intensely fixing her gaze on me. I avoid eye contact, and all I can see is the swiftly flowing river. It's amusing how this expansive river appears smaller from up here. I glance up to find her furrowing her brows, giving me a thoroughly puzzled expression.

"Just fascinated by seeing someone be so genuinely excited about a sunset," I reply with a forceful teasing tone and a wry smile to ensure she takes it just as a joke, so that she won't misinterpret my intent.

Her momentary confusion dissipates quickly, replaced by a radiant ear-to-ear smile as she gazes at the skyline. Her makeup is minimal, yet her skin gleams in the warm yellow-orange sunlight. I shift my focus to the skyline as well and notice how clear it is, except for the distant Hanpo Bridge. Normally, we wouldn't be able to see it, even though I've crossed that bridge a thousand times. Perhaps it's because I've never truly paid attention to the Western side.

"I love it here!" she remarks while shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun with her left hand. "The road can be noisy, but right here, it's tranquil. I come here from time to time whenever I need to think about something." I steal a glance at her, taking in her radiant complexion, petite shoulders, and relaxed smile. I never pictured Jennie as someone who'd seek out a spot to contemplate. I often confuse her with her celebrity persona, the persona she consistently portrays.

"What thoughts cross your mind when you come here?" I ask, giving my hand a little shake to scatter the water droplets that had accumulated from the condensation all around the cold coffee cup.

"Oh, you know, pondering the crisis of penguins' lives in the North Pole due to excessive global warming. It's truly heartbreaking, isn't it?" She replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm. I tilt my head, raising my eyebrows as if urging her to continue, but she only responds by meeting my gaze with a wide grin. I can't help but return the smile; it's practically impossible not to.

"What an admirable individual you are! I'm genuinely honoured to be here with you right now!" I exclaim, jokingly exaggerating my flattery.

"I'm not having it right now though," she shifts her cups from one hand to another, rolling up her sleeves and stretching her arms as if she's doing some light exercises.

"What about when you're not contemplating crises? What sort of ordinary things do you worry about?" I ask reluctantly, taking a long sip from the coffee. A shiver runs down the back of my neck, and it's not a pleasant feeling.

"Staying on top of everything," she replies immediately, "Fulfilling familial obligations, worrying about the other members and the fans, writing, and recording..." She presses her lips into a tight line, bringing the cup back to her lips and tapping her nails on it. I hold some coffee in my mouth, savouring the taste slowly.

I wait for her to continue, but she falls silent. So I inquire, "And?"

"And..." She appears to be struggling to recall and then she shrugs, "dying? I don't know." I nearly spit out the coffee I had been holding in my mouth.

"What? What are you saying?" I ask, coughing vigorously. She couldn't possibly be serious! Her eyes shift between me and the setting sun, which is now only half visible. My coffee has run out, and so has hers, but she still has plenty of vanilla whipped cream left in her cup.

"Never mind. I just...get really down sometimes, that's all I wanted to say," her voice carries a hint of sadness, but the gloomy smile on her face is enough to make you feel the weight of it.

I struggle to find the right words to console her. I've never been in the role of comforting others because I've always been the youngest, the one who was taken care of and comforted. However, somehow these words manage to escape my lips, "Don't forget to make time for yourself as well. When you're tired, take a break and rest. This way, you'll be able to continue with renewed strength, both physically and mentally."

She responds with a soft smile, abandoning the earlier gloom, and a gentle chuckle escapes her lips. "I have to admit, that was quite comforting," she says, and I remain silent as she looks away, her gaze fixed on the setting sun. "Now, it's your turn. Tell me something that worries you. Maybe sharing it will help ease my stress," she adds with determination in her voice.

I let out a deep sigh, and she lifts her gaze to the sky. I follow her eyes, leading mine to a flock of crows circling high in the air. For some inexplicable reason, the vastness of the sky suddenly makes me feel small, and the crows give me a sense of confinement. I purse my lips and say, "It's similar to yours, don't you think? Maybe we're not in the same boat, but we're in the...same river I guess?"

"You mean here above Han River?" She unexpectedly makes a joke, and we both burst into laughter. My laughter momentarily pauses but then continues. It takes us a full minute to finally regain our composure.

She turns toward me, standing there and her eyes shift from mine to scan my face. Her expression becomes increasingly curious. "Are those real?" She asks with a perplexed look on her face.

"What?" I feel a sudden twinge of insecurity in my stomach. I'm not wearing any makeup right now. "I mean the, uh, brow piercing?" She says it as if she's struggling to find the right words.

My hand flies up to my left eyebrow immediately, and I offer an awkward smile. "This? Yeah, it's real," I respond. The curiosity in her eyes doesn't wane; it's as if she now wants the entire backstory behind these piercings. "And are the tattoos real too?" She asks, her gaze fixed intently on my right hand.

"They're real as well," I reply, letting out a chuckle. In response, she nods rapidly with her mouth slightly agape. My left hand is filled with lots of tattoos.

I sense some gentle taps on my body and head. It's the rainwater. I glance around and see everything turning grey, the dusty roads and surfaces darkening as they soak up the rain. It begins as a faint murmur in the air. The day had started beautifully, but the sky is almost clear. The sun still shines brilliantly, and the raindrops feel lighter than feathers.

Jennie tilts her head, using one hand to shield it from the rain, "Rain? at this hour?"

I also hold out my palm and say, "It's serein."

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Bambam's POV
8th August, 6:30 pm
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I'm cooking at home tonight and I don't know when was the last time I did it. I should've bought some jjajangmyeon or other Korean food on delivery instead, but unfortunately, I gave Lisa my word that I would treat her with homemade food. She had always said that I'm a bad cook, and she is too, but I want to show off my skills today.

Rice is done a long ago and I'm using it right now to make the gimbap. Seaweed sheet, then rice, kimchi, egg roll, carrot and basil on the side of the seaweed paper. Only fifty percent is done of this gimbap, now the rest fifty depends on rolling it with breaking it. God save me. Koreans are pro at this and I'm not. The only excuse I can give to myself is that I'm not Korean. However, I get to work. I slide my fingers under the heavy side of the seaweed sheet and gently push upwards and then bend a little front. It's rolling, It's rolling. The bell startles me and good that the gimbap is ruined. Rest in peace.

"This might be her," I mutter wrinkling my nose in the mourning for the gimbap. I remove the disposable gloves from my hands and toss them into the trash before making my way to the door. I activate the video intercom screen and confirm that it's indeed her. With a sigh, I slide my finger up to answer the call.

"Who is it?" I crouch down, placing my palms on my knees to get a better look at the intercom screen. She stands before me, her face devoid of makeup, dressed in a sky blue Tahiti tiered top with a cashmere sweater layered on top.

She responds with an 'oo' sound before identifying herself, saying, "It's me, Lisa." Her gaze momentarily drops to the bags she's holding, likely filled with something.

"Lisa? Lisa who? I don't recall anyone by that name," I quip jokingly, aiming to tease her. Her reaction is swift as she shoots me a deathly glare.

"Ya! Will you open the door, or should I just kick it down?" She hollers, and don't know about the door but my ears are already damaged.

"Aish. You're such a buzzkill, Priya," I jest, intentionally emphasizing her real name to rile her up even further. However, she doesn't seem phased; instead, she appears worn out. I swing the door open, granting her entry. She hands me a plastic bag containing something mysterious. As she slips out of her navy Mary-Jane shoes, I peer inside the bag.

"You really didn't have to. I could've bought this," I comment, my gaze shifting from the contents of the bag she handed me. Taking the lead, we make our way to the open living-dining area. She casually tosses her handbag onto the couch before settling on the carpet by the low coffee table. It's become quite a habit for us since arriving in Korea.

"I was in the middle of rolling the gimbap, and thanks to your sudden arrival, it was ruined," I comment, breaking the silence that had settled between us. I return to the kitchen island, placing the drinks one by one. She had bought two bottles of soju and two cans of beer, the exact amount we needed. Out of nowhere, Marshmallow −one of my cats− starts licking my feet, and I scoop it up onto my lap.

"Wait, you were cooking?" She finally speaks, dispelling the awkwardness that had lingered, as it felt like I was talking to myself. The dull atmosphere from a moment ago dissipates into thin air, and her voice becomes livelier than ever.

I intensely nod, gently placing Marshmallow back on the ground, and then heading to the sink to wash my hands. Lisa springs up from her spot and heads in my direction. I motion towards the chaotic gimbap situation on the cutting board after washing my hands. She walks over and contemplates the mess for a moment. "Are you planning to recreate it or something?" I ask, letting out a humourless laugh.

"This won't do. Instead, we can make gimbap balls. Minnie taught me how," Lisa suggests with enthusiasm, her eyes lighting up. I lower my head, gazing at the culinary disaster before us.

"Gimbap balls? Is that even an actual recipe or did you just make it up?" I inquire, thoroughly bewildered.

"It is an actual recipe. Just grab some gloves and a large bowl," she responds, scanning the kitchen area in search of these items. I slide the box of gloves within her reach and then I head over to the sink area to fetch a spacious bowl. Most of my dishes are plain white, but the only large bowl I can find has some blue art adorning its sides. I rinse it with water before handing it to Lisa, who has already donned the gloves in the meantime.

She tilts the cutting board, allowing all the gimbap to tumble into the bowl. Using the knife, she deftly transfers the remaining pieces into the same container. I remain silent, observing as she begins to crush everything with her fist.

"Are you certain about this?" I inquire, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Absolutely," she responds with confidence, "You can join in if want."

With a sense of intrigue, I don the gloves, still unconvinced. Despite my lingering doubts about whether this will actually work, there's a sense of fun in the air. Together, we begin to enthusiastically crush the gimbap, using both of our hands. The true joy arises from those serendipitous moments when our hands accidentally meet. There's no pain, only laughter and mirth filling the room. She gives herself entirely to the task, determined to outdo me, while I choose a more delicate approach.

Our harmonious symphony of playful laughter and gentle touches creates a mesmerizing atmosphere. Maybe for a moment. Maybe A little amount of time. I blush.

She's putting all her strength into hitting me, while I'm being gentler with her. Amid this enchanting dance of hands and laughter, a fleeting pang of regret washes over me when I accidentally strike her with a bit too much force, a momentary discord in our beautiful composition.

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Jungkook's POV
8th August, 6:31 pm
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"It's serein," I remark, withdrawing my free hand from my pocket and raising it, "The light rain mostly around this time of day, afternoon. It's incredibly gentle, you know."

"It certainly is. But, I'm starting to get a bit damp," she comments, using one hand to brush off her clothes, even though the raindrops are so minuscule that there's no real need for it. "The weather forecast didn't predict this," she pauses in her brushing and shoots a disgruntled look in the direction where the sun has disappeared behind the clouds as if blaming it for the unexpected rain.

"In life, unexpected situations are bound to arise. Sometimes you'll have an umbrella and sometimes you won't. Even if you carry an umbrella, there will be times when you still end up drenched. So, just embrace these unforeseen moments and discover happiness within them," I convey, turning towards her. Her gaze holds mine for a few moments.

"You're right," she responds with a smile. Her unexpected smile warms my heart. She leans against the railing as the rain gradually intensifies. "I haven't got drenched in the rain for a long time. They won't allow it thinking I might get sick," she adds with a tone as gloomy as the sky. The sky is now a blend of deep blue and purple, considerably darker than earlier because the sun has already set; the evening has arrived. The evening has arrived in her as well.

"Do you want to run?" I suggest.

"What?" She asks, confused.

I wordlessly grasp her hand and we start running together.