The High Society || Taejin

Part 1

With an unlit cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his hand, Taehyung played with the spark wheel, creating a yellow flame with a blue tip and releasing the button to unlit and doing it repeatedly. A scoff left his mouth as his fingers traced the numbers engraved on his lighter: 1011.

Taehyung's eyes were focused on the empty street; the headlights of the two cars occupying the road were on, but still, not enough to light the dark route. With several spectators waiting on either side of the road, he wondered how many wasted their money to bet for him.

Bringing the flame to the tip of his cigarette, he inhaled to light the stick. Throwing the lighter on the passenger seat, he looked at the driver of the other car as he blew a thick white smoke out of his mouth. The other driver shook his head and smirked. Taehyung was known to be that type of person. He would want to annoy the shit out of a person he would go against. His confidence in winning was high.

Seeing a man standing on the sidewalk, holding a flag, Taehyung's foot held on to the accelerator to keep the revs up. He started to chuckle as the car revving gave him an unexplainable excitement. He raised his hand from his car window, and a man rushed to his side, getting the lighted cigarette from his mouth.

As soon as the man waved the flag, signaling that the race started, Taehyung sped off. He glanced at the side mirror occasionally, looking closer at the car behind him. His back slightly slouched, two hands gripping the steering wheel, tongue poking the insides of his cheek while sometimes swiping on his lower lip.

The speed gave him a feeling of delirium. It was his way to release the tension from his mind and body—an adrenaline rush. The sound of the motor thrilled him. It was more of music in his ears. Well, his favorite jazz music didn't go well with his chosen sport. He didn't like rock music at all. The difference clashed, but he was an old soul needing speed.

The spectators waiting at the finish line cheered as the obvious was coming. Some gave up their money right away, while most had a wide smile. As Taehyung's car passed by, signaling that he had won, it was evident that most viewers bet for him. Exchanges of money began. Some annoyingly punched the air because of defeat, and some pocket cash because of victory.

"When can I beat you?" Jungkook, the other car's driver, asked as he unloaded from his car and walked to where Taehyung was standing.

The man who took the cigarette from Taehyung moments earlier gave the stick back, lighting it with a lighter. Taehyung blew a thick smoke as he picked money from his pocket, giving it to the man who 'took good care' of his cigarette before patting the man's shoulder, telling him to go.

"You always bring your car to my shop; why would I recommend something that would make it faster than mine?" Taehyung leaned on his car, facing Jungkook, who just chuckled at Taehyung's answer.

"Plan? Is your penthouse suite available for some alcohol?" Jungkook asked with a mocking smile on his face.

"My penthouse suite is always available for alcohol and open-air parties," Taehyung rode on Jungkook's mockeries, fully aware that his best friend was only clowning his apartment unit.

•••

Jin brought the martini glass to his lips, sipping the clear liquid inside it and carefully bringing it back on the table as his fingertips played on the peel of lemon skin hanging on the mouth of the glass.

"Why don't you move out with Yoongi? I don't understand why he doesn't want to move out of that house," Jin suggested to his friend but suddenly remembered something and scoffed at his suggestion, "Sorry. How dare I suggest that when my husband doesn't want to move out with me."