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

Chapter 103: Where Gravity Turns to Poetry

I step out onto the balcony.

The air is cool and crisp, the skyline glittering like a crown.

The noise fades behind me, and for the first time all evening, I let my shoulders drop.

I lean against the railing, exhale slowly, and-God, I miss them.

I miss home.

Yoongi's quiet steadiness. Tae's affectionate chaos. Y/N's warmth wrapped around me like a blanket. Joon's endless, anchoring presence.

I miss Hobi and Jungkook bickering over who gets the sunlight room at the end of the second floor. I really can't wait for them to move in with us, it's their home too.

I hope they haven't gone back to their apartment yet-I hope they stayed the night.

I miss how the house had been smelling like honey, vanilla, and coconuts from Yoongi and Kook's kitchen experiments.

Wacha chasing Yeontan through the halls.

Tae's probably deep in his zone right now, headphones on, scribbling concepts across his tablet in a whirlwind of digital brushstrokes.

He's possessed lately, buzzing with creative energy ever since-
Since him.

Park Jimin.
Our eighth.

I can still see that dancer from the video. The crimson flash. The whisper,

"Are you entranced?"

I laughed at first. Of course it was someone like him who would be our last.

Seductive, stunning, sinfully talented.

Ever since I watched that VR performance, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.

The way his voice coiled like silk around those words.

The way his eyes pierced even through pixels.

The way he moved, like every limb knew the rhythm of seduction before the music even started.

Like a dare.
A promise.

Our final soulmate, I'd thought then.

Even if the app hadn't confirmed it yet-he hadn't activated his profile-I knew.

We all knew.

And now, standing on this balcony, with the city glittering below and Jia's music still echoing faintly in my chest, I find myself thinking about him again.

Wondering what he's like off-camera.
Off-stage.

Wondering how he looks up close.

Wondering what that voice sounds like when he's not whispering lines into a VR mic.

The ballroom behind me hums with laughter, clinking glasses, and post-performance buzz.

I should still be in there, networking.

Pretending I'm not secretly here just to intimidate any man who so much as glances sideways at my sister.

But I needed air. I needed quiet.
I needed them-my soulmates.

I miss the grounding of our house.
The way it breathes with us.

Instead, I'm here, champagne glass in hand, bathed in soft evening wind and moonlight.

And then-
A voice.

Smooth.
Familiar.
Deadly.

"I didn't know Jia had such a protective older brother."