Taehyung learns a secret about South Korea's golden boy and uses it to his advantage.
AUDEAMUS (lat.) - let us dare
Brand new to the world of celebrities, Kim Taehyung, an ambitious fashion designer, wants it all. He is ready to do anything to have...
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♡ ˎˊ˗ CLUTCHING ONTO THE room key for dear life, Taehyung stares at the situation unfolding in front of him, unable to utter a word or move away.
Jeongguk's black shirt is halfway unbuttoned, purple marks decorating his pretty collarbones. The seams of his suit sleeve are torn and the collar is all crumpled up from being grabbed and held tightly. His hair is out of its usual ponytail, wild sweaty curls falling over his face, reaching his angry red lips. His belt is still unbuckled, but he doesn't seem to care because his hands are all over the other person, the other man,whose condition isn't much better.
It's so bizarre Taehyung isn't sure he sees clearly. Yet, it's right in front of him. Proof that Jeon Jeongguk isn't who he claims to be. Who everyone believes he is. Who Taehyung could swear he was.
The key slips from between Taehyung's fingers, clattering to the floor with a sharp sound, and he immediately flinches. Jeongguk freezes, the man in his arms locking eyes with Taehyung, pure fear evident in his beautiful features.
Jeongguk, on the other hand, remains completely nonchalant. At least, on the outside.
He has that laid-back attitude about him, moving leisurely and smoothly, with that same classiness and confidence of a celebrity with no guilt, no regrets. Letting the stranger disappear back into the room, he steps closer, slightly out of breath. "Taehyung, hi."
He's fucking smiling. This is entertaining to him.
And Taehyung doesn't know what possesses him to choose to speak instead of looking the other way. Instead of turning a blind eye like everyone in their fucked up industry does when someone makes a mistake. Instead of pressing his back to the door of Jeongguk's closet, helping it shut, hiding the rotting skeleton already inside.
"You," he whispers, "you're not— you're engaged and Victoire's—"
"Right." Jeongguk's smile falters around the edges, a hint of that same irritation he'd displayed back in the hall with Jimin, present in the way his jaw ticks in disappointment that Taehyung isn't supportive of his infidelity. "You should go to sleep. It's late."
"Jeongguk—"
"I'm serious, Kim." He nods firmly. "Just fuck off."
Taehyung swallows. His eyes begin to prickle and oh, how much he hates how he cries when someone snaps at him. And it's not just anyone.
It shouldn't bother him as much, really. Cheating is second nature to some, as disappointing and disturbing as it is. Catching someone in the act shouldn't make him all emotional, all weird, yet it's someone he thought to be perfect. Kind.
It was all fake. A façade, just like everything else around him. The one person he thought would be different. The one person he idolised to the point where he couldn't see what was in plain sight.
