Bea's lips twist into a smile before she winks at you like she knows something you don't.
She's Jungkook's girlfriend after all.
You press your lips together to stifle a laugh. If you're Jungkook's girlfriend, then Santa Claus is definitely a bald demon.
Hell, Jungkook won't even consider you a girl. To him, you're probably some violent nincompoop with trust issues.
"I'm either going deaf or you guys are lacking a pair of working eyeballs."
"Neither," confirms Jimin cooly, "You chose to be here so you might as well accept the consequences."
"Consequences?" You echo, face scrunching in confusion.
Hoseok sighs from behind you, "You weren't invited so you'll have to pretend to be Jungkook's girlfriend for a free pass."
Something jolts in your chest and you turn to Hoseok with widened eyes. "Oh great. Out of everyone you had to pick him?"
Hoseok presses his lips together. "Actually it wasn't our choice," he says. "Jungkook volunteered. He wants to keep an eye on you because he thinks you're going to escape or cause trouble."
You mentally groan, just as the orchestra reaches a crescendo, the volume muffling all your aimless protests. If you would have known earlier, then you wouldn't have been so stubborn about attending this stupid party.
"For the plan to work," you say, looking around, "Shouldn't Jungkook be with me?"
You wait for them to answer, but strangely enough, no one does. Frowning, you turn around quizzically, feeling a wave of hush spiral around.
"Guys?" You ask, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach when you find Bea and the others gone.
Before anything, your shoulder gets shoved to the side by a bustling crowd of men, each drunk in daze, sweat, and temporary gayness.
Swallowing hard, you clench the hem of your dress into fists.
Men and alcohol. The worst combination of all.
You curse under your breath. You can't lose Bea and the rest of them. You don't even know anyone here. Heck not even the host.
Without another thought, you search around the place like a kid lost at the grocery store. Then squeezing past a roaring group of teens, you sway towards the dance floor where you think you spotted Junghyun's ridiculous banana printed shirt.
It was then, that you bumped hard into a red leather jacket dude who looked like he came out of a gift box.
"You look lost, Señorita," the man swoons, his voice cracking into an imitation of a robotic GPS guide.
Turning to him, you pray he's someone you know—someone who probably recognized your face from a "missing" poster.
But no.
The man's eyes are a cunning hue of sage, a profound grayish-green that stare at you with a hazed charm. He takes a step close, wearing a romantic appeal to your appearance.
"I'm Sam," he smiles. "Samuel Rodriguez." I don't give a damn, you wanted to cut him off.
Nevertheless, "Hi," you greet him flatly, bowing at him slightly before turning away to look for Junghyun who you swore had just slipped into a crowd.
You grit your teeth in frustration. Mental note to kill him once you get hold of him.
Not a moment later your eyes catch Jimin's lovely woven khaki suit. He is seated at the bar with a drink balanced in his hand. As if this man didn't just ditch you moments ago.
But from time to time, he would glance at his watch as if expecting a bomb to explode any minute.
This... this is weird. Very weird.
Then there, next to a stout middle-aged man, Jin stands with a hand to the side of his head as if to check if he still has ears.
You twist your fingers as you wrack your brain for theories. Surely, they couldn't be playing hide and seek—Not right after ditching you!
But there's one thing you're absolutely positive of. Jin and Jimin aren't here to party—not at all. They are up to something—all six of them.
"You look stressed," Sam says, and you stare at him plainly. No shit.
"Here," the man says, offering you the drink in his hand. You politely refuse, making him tug the glass towards you teasingly. "It's just wine," he assures, shooting you a forced smile.
You send him a look. "I don't want the damn drink," you snap, losing your patience, "You heard me, Sam. I'm not interested. Sorry."
You turn to walk away, but his arm swings around your shoulder, turning your body towards him. You freeze.
"Drink," the man insists, forcing the glass in your hand, "you'll feel better."
Unable to move, you stare at your pale face reflected on the surface of the wine, wondering how much trouble you'll get in for splashing it onto his face.
But something odd catches your eye. Tiny white particles of god-knows-what floated at the bottom of the glass, together resembling a fragment of the starlit sky.
Then, suddenly, a hand snatches the glass of wine from your hands. You flinch, turning to watch Jungkook staring at Sam ice-coldly, making the temperature in this room plunge.
You wouldn't be surprised to know this guy has mini portable A.C's stuffed in both his pockets. Because darn, you're starting to freeze.
Jungkook's eyes don't dare to leave Sam's face as he gulps down the wine, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.
Holy crap.
After drinking the contents in one swift motion, he shoves the empty glass back to Sam before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. You gulp.
"That was awfully strong for Red wine," Jungkook says, his voice dangerously low.
Something flicks between the two men and you awkwardly stand beside them as they glare at each other like there's no tomorrow.
"Take my arm," Jungkook offers you, eyes not leaving Sam's face. You gape at him in disbelief. "T-take your what?"
Jungkook's jaw tightens in vexation. "Do as I say," he commands, and you suddenly remember that you're his pretend girlfriend.
You stare at him with anticipation, and he looks at you annoyed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm happily waiting for you to pass out or something. He spiked that drink, you dumbass."
"I've built a tolerance," he says, and you gawk at him. "For drugs!?"
"I take medication. I've built a tolerance over the years." You don't ask him medication for what.
Sloppily, you link your arm with his, making him immediately steer you away from Sam.
"Are we leaving already?" You ask, but Jungkook ignores you, dragging you with him mercilessly despite your struggles in high heels.
You're surprised this man isn't showing any signs of intoxication. Just seconds ago, he gulped down a full, overdosed glass of alcohol.
What the hell is this guy made of? Steel? Brick? Thor's hammer?
"Sorry. I got lost," you manage to confess, "I was with Bea and the others for a while and then boom—they were gone. And you know what's weird? They didn't even try to find me again. I-"
"Do you ever stop talking?"
You make a face at him. "What the heck is your problem?" You reach for his buttoned shirt, patting your hand against his chest and Jungkook grabs your wrist in a vice grip. "What. Are. You. Doing," he snarls.
"Trying to find a button to switch your emotions on."
His jaw remains tight as he leads you toward a dining table with two seats. "I have no interest in giving you what you want," he says. Swiftly, he pulls the chair out for you, and you roll your eyes before hesitantly sitting, feeling the eyes of people snap towards you.
"You want me to be your pretend girlfriend, but with the way you're acting, people might think we're here to file a divorce."
Jungkook ignores you, pulling out his phone.
A peek of champagne pink smudges across your cheeks as whispers start to float around. You nervously fiddle with the ruffles on your dress, gulping at the voice of a woman,
She's Jungkook's girlfriend? More like a mistress!
No way. She looks like a minor. Someone drop her off to school.
What's her name? Never mind, it doesn't matter.
You press your lips together, looking up at Jungkook who scrolls through his phone, not giving two shits about you.
How you wish you could just stand up and scream that you aren't this jerk's girlfriend! You shake your head. It's not worth it.
At least, some tension is shooed away once a waiter stops by to serve a piping plate of spaghetti and garlic bread. You lick your lips at the aroma.
Welcome or not, this is exactly why you're here.
Ignoring everyone around, you dig in your plate, savoring the flavors that melt in your mouth. "Mmmm," you moan, taking another bite.
Jungkook throws you a look. "Stop that," he demands, "It's infuriating."
You frown at him. "Info-fu-what?"
He looks at you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. "Whatever," you grumble. "Why can't you just talk normally?"
"I am talking normally," he grunts, "You're just dumb."
You glare at him. "I want to pie this pasta in your pretty face."
His lips hint a very small smirk. "So you think I've got a pretty face, Red?"
A smudge of pink hints across your cheeks. "I think you need more social interaction because you're responses are drier than my left elbow on cold winter mornings."
Jungkook sighs, taking a decent bite from his plate. The next few minutes slip by with the two of you just bickering endlessly.
A moment later, you choke on water when you find Sam staring at you from afar, a creepy smile on his face. Out of nowhere, he throws you a wink.
You stop chewing, snapping your gaze towards Jungkook.
"Did you see that?" You ask him, eyes wide in disbelief.
Jungkook looks up from his phone, gives you a bored look, then goes back to scrolling through his phone.
"He just winked at me!" You hiss, and he doesn't budge.
Was he serious? You kick his leg under the table, and he shoots you a glare.
"Do something!" You demand, "Throw him a punch or kick him in the balls!"
Placing his phone down, Jungkook folds his hands to his chest. "And why would I do that?" He asks, "It's not like he winked at me."
You stare at him in disbelief, opening your mouth but he beats you to it. "I don't fight," he says firmly, "Certainly not for you."
Rolling your eyes for the second time today, you stand up, feeling the table shift before you. "Whatever," you say, turning to leave.
Jungkook grabs your wrist, tugging you towards him slightly. "Where are you going?"
You slap his hand off. "Bathroom."
He brings it back instantly, grip tighter this time. "Be back quick. Don't hover. Don't talk to anyone."
You scoff at that. "I'm not at school," you say, turning to leave.
Ever since you arrived at the party, things just did not sit right with you. First, you get ditched by everyone. Second, a dude offers you an overdosed drink. Third, Jin, Jimin, and Junnghyun look like they're filming a freaking Mission Impossible movie.
Your head starts to pound before you finally find the doors to the bathroom. After finishing your business, you walk out of the stalls to wash your hands. As you do, you could have sworn something shifted in the massive mirror before you.
Snapping your gaze up, your heart jumps in your throat. A man with the creepiest smile to his lips stood near one of the stalls—Sam.
You're pretty sure this is a women's-only bathroom. If it wasn't, then you wouldn't be here.
Shutting the tap off, you turn around with your heart booming in your chest. Sam's eyes scan the bathroom with agonizing slowness, seemingly satisfied that it is vacant.
And this time, when his lips tug up, it's not a smile.
It's a smirk.
~~~~~
A/N: Unedited. Thanks for 2k!!
Q: Who's ur bias?
Ot7