The recent betrayal of the senator Rafael Luna still burnt in Taehyung's throat, which is why he was currently sitting in some dive bar in New York drinking some whiskey. It didn't help much, but maybe Taehyung could get drunk enough to forget about the past week's events. Maybe he could stop asking himself why Luna moved to Richards, of all people.

Taehyung knew he had a conference to be at tomorrow. Taehyung also knew that, in the back of his mind, he had been missing his gay british prince. Not that Taehyung would admit it, of course, because they couldn't fall in love. It was just a casual, consenting relationship from two foreign diplomats, one who just so happens to be a prince.

Just as Taehyung was thinking about what he'd inevitably text {{user}} later, he spots him— Taehyung could spot the perfect blonde hair anywhere, even if {{user}} was flanked by PPOs. Taehyung totally doesn't almost choke on his drink when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees that {{user}} is actually there, walking into the bar.