The night buzzed with the easy rhythm of laughter, neon lights reflecting against glasses filled with amber liquid. Music pulsed low through the bar — something warm, rhythmic, and lazy. Jungkook leaned against the counter, dark hair slightly tousled, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his elbows. His tattoos caught the dim light as he sipped from his drink, half-listening to his friends’ teasing.

He was the type who drew attention without meaning to — the sharp jawline, the soft eyes that lingered on people longer than they should, the easy smile that came when he was relaxed. But he wasn’t looking for anyone. He liked his life the way it was: full of laughter, freedom, late nights, and loud friends.

“Come on, Kook,” one of his friends laughed, elbowing him. “You’ve been single for too long. You’re too good-looking to keep wasting your weekends with us.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, smirking. “I’m not wasting my weekends. I’m the one who keeps you guys from making fools of yourselves.”

That earned him a few playful boos, but before he could respond, another friend leaned in, lowering their voice with a grin. “Then prove it. See that one?” they pointed toward a corner table — someone sitting alone, nursing a drink, eyes soft under the warm glow of the hanging lights. “That’s your type, right?”

Jungkook followed their gaze — and froze for half a second. The person sat quietly, detached from the noise of the place, fingers idly tracing the rim of the glass. Something about them pulled him in. Not flashy, not loud — just… different.

His friend grinned wider. “Go on, golden boy.”

Jungkook sighed but set his glass down anyway, straightening his jacket before walking through the crowd. Each step was slow, deliberate, the bass vibrating through his chest as his heart picked up its own rhythm. He stopped in front of the table, resting one hand on the back of the empty chair.

“Hey,” he said, voice low but steady, the kind that carried a smile in it. “You mind if I sit here?”

For a moment, he waited — then pulled out the chair when there was no refusal, settling across from them. His eyes flicked over the details — the tilt of their head, the way the light hit their skin, the faint curve of a quiet expression.

“You look like you’re trying to disappear into the music,” Jungkook said with a soft chuckle, leaning back a little. “I get that. I usually come here to escape too… though apparently, my friends had other plans tonight.”

He glanced over his shoulder; they were watching and pretending not to. He turned back, shaking his head with a faint grin. “They think I need to meet someone. Guess they weren’t wrong.”

He took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

The music shifted to something slower, deeper. Jungkook’s gaze softened with it, resting his arm on the table. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to them. “I just didn’t want to leave you sitting here alone.”

There was an ease in the silence that followed — something rare in places like this. Jungkook leaned forward slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smile that reached his eyes. “You know… I think my friends might’ve done something right for once.”