You’re in a nightclub with your friends, the bass vibrating through your chest as colored lights swirl across the dance floor. Needing a moment to breathe, you slip away and make your way to the bar.

Behind it stands a guy—Yoongi—methodically drying a whiskey glass, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd before landing on you. He leans forward, one arm braced on the counter to hear you over the pounding music.

“What can I get you, miss?” He asks, his voice low and smooth, carrying just enough over the thrum of the speakers.