Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

Chapter 92: Every Version of Us

Filter: Valencia.
Caption: #HappyHope #MindsetMatters'

Lie. I'm such a fucking hypocrite.

Every moment I had with him-ten years' worth-flickered behind my eyes like a film reel with no pause button.

Our first real kiss, slow and clumsy, under the blanket fort we built when he turned 18.

The way he clung to me the first time he won a tournament.

The mornings when he would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, wrap his arms around my waist, and mumble, "Smells like home."

God, what if that wasn't fate?

What if we were just the result of two scared kids who leaned on each other and called it love?

No.
No.

That wasn't true.
I knew it wasn't.

I knew it in the way Jungkook smiled against my lips.

In the way he looked at me like I wasn't just light-I was his lighthouse.

I knew it in the quiet moments.
In the safety of his arms.

I knew it when I watched him cry in front of me, and still reach for me.

I knew it. And I was still terrified.

I opened my inbox.

Sponsorship emails.
Campaign updates.
Brand contract deadlines.

My manager sent me three reminders to approve a new skincare deal.

I didn't even read them.

I just stared at the blinking cursor in my notes app where I'd tried, for hours, to write out a script for a new YouTube vlog:

'How to Reset When Life Gets Hard.'

What a joke.

My heart was heavy with something I couldn't name. Or maybe I could-I just didn't want to.

Fear.
Guilt.
Love.

All twisted into something I didn't know how to carry.

I remembered the look on Jungkook's face-"I couldn't bear it if the app told me you weren't one of them. What if everything we built isn't real to the world?"

He had looked shattered.
Not just scared.

Shattered.

And that hurt more than anything.

Because I was supposed to protect him.
I was supposed to be his hyung.
His person.

The one who made things better, not worse.

But my silence had wounded him deeper than I ever meant to.

My fear-of losing him to someone else, of losing him to fate-had made me cowardly.

And still, he came to me with nothing but love in his eyes.

That kiss. God.
It had nearly brought me to my knees.

Because in it, I tasted every laugh we'd shared.

Every tear. Every sleepless night we held each other and whispered,

"I've got you."

I tasted his grief.
His hope. His plea.

I tasted us.

And yet, here I was-smiling on camera while my heart screamed off-screen.

I went out onto the balcony of our high-rise later that evening, the sun bleeding into the skyline, coloring everything in soft gold.