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When the heroes of our rather psychotic tale returned to their rooms, Taehyung sagged against the ornate armchairs, sighing out a lifetime worth of relief.

"I'm seeing her tonight, Jin," he breathed out. "She said she'll see me tonight."

The elder assessed himself in the mirror, pulling all the poses a woman would strike when she was in love with no one but herself.

"You do realise that we have a show this evening," he reminded, patting his bob. "How are you gonna pull this up, then? You can hide your cock, but can you hide your true identity?"

Taehyung glanced out the window. "I was thinking about it. But I've got a plan."

Jin whipped out a tube of blood red lipstick, inspecting the shade with a query eye. "Let's hear it then."

"So I start off as Taehui, arriving with my saxophone, play along for the first two or three songs, and after a little break I fuck up upstairs and come back as the millionaire," Taehyung explained. "Then, I watch her, applaud her because that's what she deserves, and approach her. The rest will be history."

"Jin looked back at his friend. "Unless you fuck up somehow and she realises you're just a sorry excuse of a musician who wants to get in her pants."

"I'm not going to screw up," The younger insisted, taking off his waistcoat. "So shut it."

"Alright, alright," Jin said, spreading the lipstick onto his mouth, sleek and smoother than the skin he possessed. "But I'm just saying this cause I'm your friend. Probably the only one you've got."

"Hey, I've got Miss Park!" Taehyung exclaimed. "She helped us out."

"Sorry, but she only wants to get in my pants," Jin drawled, stocking the lipstick back into his handbag.

Taehyung snorted. "Yeah, and I drink the strongest 'dumb fuck' tea every morning."

"Have you even seen the way she looks at me?" He scoffed. "Lady might as well start having spare panties whenever I enter her office, cause she's probably creamed her—"

"Jesus Christ, Jin, shut the fuck up," Taehyung seethed, shaking his head. "No wonder you've never had one girl who'd want you in bed."

"Oh, suck my tits, Tae," Jin jeered back.

"Can't suck on something that doesn't exist."

"Good God," the elder hissed, turning around to face his friend as he gestured towards his excessively padded chest. "At least it looks like it. That's what fucking matters."

"Jin, what's wrong?" Taehyung suddenly asked. "You're bullshitting more than physically possible today."

The boy sighed. "Well, you know-"

"Wait, I forgot," he cut Jin off. "I don't give a fuck."

He got back to staring out the window, as if the view outside was like the Garden of Eden glorying under the Busan sun, even though the reality was just a bad part of the beach and a woman screaming at her man for dropping her "favourite mint chocolate ice cream, you dumb prick!"

"Such an asshole," Jin muttered, coming over to join him where he sat. "If Inhui heard such atrocities she'd leave you in an instant."

"That's why she won't know," Taehyung declared.

But something in him didn't settle. Maybe it was the dodgy kimchi that Hoseok brought in, all smiles and googly-eyes, but there was a feeling inside him which stressed a point which he failed to recognise.

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