Celebrity Crush | Kim Taehyung Fan Fiction

Fragile Thread

(Yeon's POV)

The sun had barely crept over the cityscape as I resumed my duties, the hotel room's regret still lingering like a bitter aftertaste. I moved through the day as if nothing had transpired, my stoic facade masking the internal turmoil that threatened to consume me. Duty called, and I answered, all while drowning my regrets in the thin smoke of a cigarette during stolen moments.

Hyejin, blissfully unaware of the storm within me, carried on with her hectic schedule. The rehearsals, the interviews, the endless meetings—her life continued, an intricate dance of fame and pressure. 

Smoke curled upward as I leaned against a discreet corner, eyes watchful, senses alert. 

Envy gnawed at me when she interacted with other male idols, the stinging reminder that I was nothing more than a guardian. Taehyung's presence, especially, was a constant thorn in my side. The cold shoulder I gave him echoed my silent resentment, a clash of unspoken rivalry.

"Yeon, a smoke break?" Hyejin's voice broke through my thoughts, and I nodded, the nonchalant facade firmly in place. We stepped into the shadows, and as I lit my cigarette, I couldn't help but feel the weight of her gaze on me.

"Something bothering you?" she asked, concern knitting her brows. I chuckled, attempting nonchalance.

"Just the usual stress, you know. This job gets to you sometimes," I replied, the words carrying a weight of truth buried beneath the surface.

She nodded, her attention momentarily drawn to the distant city lights. The seconds ticked by, and I debated whether to let the unspoken linger or to take the plunge.

"You surprise me sometimes, Hyejin," I mused, my tone carrying a hint of something more, something that danced on the edge of vulnerability.

Her laughter, a melodic response, brushed aside my attempt at sincerity. "You've seen it all, Yeon. Not much left to surprise anyone, right?"

But there was more, an unsaid truth that lingered in the air between us. The gap widened as we returned to the bustling reality of her schedule, my heart weighed down by the distance I dared not bridge.

Days turned to weeks, and my internal struggle persisted. 

Taehyung's presence remained a constant reminder of the divide between duty and desire. Every encounter was a subtle battle, a war of glances and unspoken words. The rivalry I harbored became a silent dance, a performance for an audience of one.

Yet, Hyejin, blissfully unaware, continued to move through the intricacies of her life. In the quiet moments, when the world paused, I stole glances that spoke volumes. The vulnerability in her laughter, the subtle glimmer in her eyes—I sought solace in these stolen fragments of reality.

One evening, as the city lights painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, Hyejin surprised me with a request.

"Taehyung's performing tonight. Wanna come along? Just in case the media catches a glimpse of me at the venue."

The invitation hung in the air, a subtle acknowledgement of my role beyond the shadows. I agreed, masking the unease that nestled within me.

At the BTS concert, amidst the vibrant sea of fans, Hyejin's eyes sparkled with excitement. She dragged me into the backstage chaos, her laughter echoing through the corridors. In those moments, I glimpsed a side of her hidden from the world—a side that made the envy that clawed at me intensify.

"Yeon, you're part of this too. Don't act like an outsider," she teased, nudging me as if to break the invisible barrier I had constructed.

My response, a half-smile that barely concealed the unease, was lost in the cacophony of backstage energy. 

Taehyung appeared, and the air thickened with unspoken tension. My gaze, a silent challenge, met his, a subtle war waged without a single word.

As the concert unfolded, I felt the weight of the unspoken—my misplaced desires, the rivalry with Taehyung, and the looming truth that I was just a shadow in Hyejin's vibrant world. The boundaries blurred, and I struggled to maintain composure as the night unfolded.

In the aftermath, as we retreated from the clamor, Hyejin turned to me with a genuine smile. "Thanks for being here, Yeon."

Her words lingered, a bittersweet reminder of a connection that danced on the periphery of something more profound. The unspoken lingered, a silent echo of emotions too complex to unravel in the noisy aftermath of the concert.

The night air hung heavy with unspoken tension as I drove Hyejin home from the BTS concert. Taehyung's company dinner beckoned, but she declined, citing a desire not to intrude. 

I navigated the city streets in silence, the car filled with the weight of unspoken words.

As we approached her apartment, Hyejin's voice broke the quiet. "Yeon, can we make a quick stop?"

I nodded, curious but cautious. 

The Han River came into view, its tranquil waters shimmering under the dim glow of streetlights. Hyejin stepped out of the car, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse before her.

The silence between us was palpable, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. My eyes traced her silhouette, the subtle tension evident in the way she held herself. 

Hyejin was loyal to Taehyung, a fact I couldn't escape, and the invisible barrier between us grew more pronounced.

She turned to me, a mixture of vulnerability and determination in her eyes. "Yeon, about what you said the other day... about hiding my relationship with Taehyung."

Her words dangled in the air, a confession waiting to be unraveled. I leaned against the car, my gaze never leaving hers, my heart pounding with anticipation.

"I've been thinking," she continued, a hand gesturing vaguely in the night air. "I get that it's putting more pressure on you to keep the tabloids away. I really care about Taehyung, but I understand if it's becoming too much for you."

Her sincerity cut through the tension, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders lifted. I observed her features, from the furrow of her brows to the uncertainty in her eyes. The subtle nuances of her body language spoke volumes, a dance of emotions hidden beneath the surface.

"You have a demanding job, Yeon. I don't want to make it harder for you," she added, her voice a gentle reassurance that only deepened the conflict within me.

As the distant lights reflected in her eyes, I felt the pull of an invisible force—a magnetic connection that transcended the boundaries we had set. 

In the quiet exchange of glances, the tension that simmered within me went unreciprocated by Hyejin. Her loyalty to Taehyung remained steadfast, and though the desire gnawed at me, I respected the boundaries she had set.

Hyejin turned away, her gaze fixated on a billboard of her latest endorsement in the distance. The city lights painted her silhouette in soft hues, a juxtaposition of glamour against the complexities of her hidden life.

Life, she mused, was never meant to be simple. 

I stood there, the Han River bearing witness to the unspoken exchange, a silent understanding that life's complexities mirrored the intricate dance between duty and desire.

As we returned to the car, the night wrapped around us like a cocoon of secrets. 

The city lights blurred, and the Han River faded into the backdrop of the night, leaving behind a trail of unspoken moments that lingered in the air.