Say ‘I Do’ to a Heist

Havana

Hoseok leaned against the wall outside the recording room, taking a moment to roll his shoulders and crack his knuckles. Namjoon and Yoongi were huddled over a pile of equipment, double-checking settings for the next broadcast. Hoseok gave them a little nod as he approached, hands shoved casually in his pockets.

“So, who am I bringing on for the next grand performance?” he asked, smirking as he tapped one foot impatiently.

Namjoon looked up with a half-smile that was equal parts mischievous and smug. “Oh this is a special one, Havana. We’re switching things up, just as Seonsaengnim ordered. You’re going to get the bride herself—Han Yejin.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up, unable to hold back a snicker. “Ah, we’re going for the big names now, huh? Alright, she better be ready for her close-up.” He clapped his hands together, letting out a sharp breath as he prepared himself for the task.

Inside the grand ballroom, the scene was chaotic. The once-glamorous crowd of Seoul’s high society were now huddled together, dressed in their finest attire but now looking as if they’d been plucked from a disaster movie. Guests clung to one another, casting fearful glances at the masked men patrolling the exits, and in the center of it all sat the unfortunate groom himself—Lee Sanghoon. The groom was still dressed to the nines in his tailored tux, but his usual unshakable composure was now distinctly frayed, his hair a little tousled, his shirt collar tugged out of place.

Hoseok strolled into the room with his usual mix of confidence and carefree mischief, cutting a direct line through the crowd. He could almost feel the guests holding their breath, watching him with terrified eyes as he stopped in front of Sanghoon and Yejin. Yejin, the quintessential fairy-tale bride, looked like she was on the brink of collapse, clutching Sanghoon’s arm tightly, her eyes wide with horror.

Sanghoon glared up at him, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. “Where are Yoo Harin and Woo Jungho? You better tell me they’re unharmed.”

Hoseok tilted his head, his expression unbothered as he gave Sanghoon a lazy smile. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about them, dongsaeng,” he said, leaning in close to make sure his words were dripping with patronizing charm. “They’re just in a private setting. Relaxing.”

Sanghoon’s hands clenched into fists, his face flushed with anger, but Hoseok saw the flash of fear in his eyes. He knew exactly the type—used to getting everything handed to him, to snapping his fingers and making people jump. This was a man who would crumble the second he wasn’t in control.

Before Sanghoon could respond, Jimin slipped into the scene with his trademark pout, looking the picture of innocence despite his gleaming mask. He gave a mock sigh, his voice practically dripping with false sympathy. “Is this the beautiful bride we’re taking to our little set?” he asked, casting a wink at Yejin, who shrank back in response.

“You’re not taking her anywhere without me,” Sanghoon snapped, attempting to stand, his voice bordering on a growl as he squared his shoulders.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he waved a finger. “Oh, no can do, groomzilla. You’re not part of the show. But don’t worry, we wouldn’t harm a hair on your precious bride’s head. Right, Havana?”

Hoseok barely contained his laugh as he grabbed Sanghoon’s shoulder, pushing him firmly back into his seat. “Now, now,” he said in a tone that was downright parental. “Throwing a tantrum won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Privilege. You know, I bet it’s hard for you—hearing ‘no’ for once in your over-privileged life. But, let me let you in on a little secret: sometimes life doesn’t work that way. And no, your wallet isn’t going to help you here.”

Sanghoon’s jaw clenched as he tried to lunge forward, only to find Hoseok’s hand already in place, shoving him firmly back down. Hoseok didn’t even have to put his full weight into it—the poor guy looked like he’d break if he tried to wrestle with anything heavier than a golf club.

Jimin’s smile turned sweetly sarcastic as he leaned down to whisper just loud enough for Sanghoon to hear. “Ah, it’s almost tragic, isn’t it?” he cooed. “Being robbed of your wedding night with your darling Yejin. I’m so sorry to inconvenience you. Truly, I am.”

Hoseok fought the urge to roll his eyes at Jimin’s exaggerated pity but gave a quick nod to two other masked men. They stepped forward, grabbing hold of Sanghoon, who was still struggling and spluttering threats, though his voice was starting to sound more desperate than commanding. Sanghoon looked back one last time as they Hoseok turned back to Jimin, who was already helping Yejin to her feet. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she stumbled forward.

“Now, Yejin-ah,” Jimin said softly, almost as if he were cooing to a scared child. “No need to be so tense, alright? Just a little chat with the big, bad heist crew, nothing you can’t handle.” He gave her a charming smile, patting her hand as though they were best friends catching up over tea. Yejin looked like she might faint at any moment, but with Jimin’s “guidance,” she managed to stumble along, eyes wide and mouth shut.

As they made their way back to the recording room, Hoseok leaned in toward Jimin, smirking. “You really know how to lay it on thick, huh?”

Jimin tossed his hair, grinning back with a sparkle in his eye. “Hey, charm is all I’ve got in situations like these. Besides, it’s too much fun watching Sanghoon squirm.” He paused, giving Yejin a once-over with that mischievous smile still in place. “And our lovely bride here is going to be the star of the show. Seonsaengnim’s orders.”

Hoseok shook his head, chuckling. “Poor thing,” he said, though his tone was anything but sympathetic. They all knew what kind of “star” Yejin was about to become—another pawn in Seonsaengnim’s elaborate game.

As they arrived at the recording room, Hoseok threw open the door, gesturing for Yejin to step inside. The gleam of the cameras, the setup of cables, and the entire sinister atmosphere seemed to engulf her, and he saw her visibly shrink back. Her polished, fairy-tale image cracked even more, and Hoseok felt the dark satisfaction that came with tearing down someone else’s perfect world.

Jimin stepped past her, his smile turning downright devilish as he adjusted the lighting on her. “Now, darling,” he said, voice soft and syrupy. “It’s time to smile for the cameras. The world’s watching.”

Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he looked on with amusement. “Welcome to the show, Mrs. Lee-to-be,” he said. “Better get comfortable.”

*******

Vienna

Namjoon adjusted the mic on his headset, surveying the room with a cool, calculating expression as the bride herself, Han Yejin, was led in by Jimin and Hoseok. The two moderators, Kim Hyejin and Park Jinwoo, sat rigid and pale, already pushed to their limits by the two explosive livestreams they’d hosted that day. They could barely keep up with each scandalous reveal. Now, seeing Seoul’s own Instagram darling, Han Yejin, dressed in a wedding gown and visibly rattled, was the icing on the cake of chaos.

Namjoon felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth as Hoseok escorted her to a metal chair set squarely in front of the camera. “Ah, Mrs. Han Yejin,” he said with mock warmth, “please, take a seat. You’ll be the star of our show tonight.”

Yejin looked around, her jaw tight as her eyes took in the lights, cameras, and anxious moderators. There was confusion and fear in her gaze as she met Namjoon’s eyes. She took the seat, looking ready to flee at any moment, though Jimin leaned over and gave her a gentle yet sinister pat on the shoulder.

“Confused, huh?” Namjoon chuckled, adjusting his headset as if he was introducing a live TV segment. “Relax, Mrs. Han. As the nation’s very own Instagram princess, I’d expect you to be used to this. Smile for the cameras,” he said with an amused grin, “we’ve even got your best angle.”

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, fingers flying across his laptop, his expression as relaxed as if he were sipping coffee at a quiet café. Namjoon turned to him, tapping his headset. “Cairo, are we back up again? Seokjin tried to shut us down earlier, but I trust you’ve handled it?”

Without looking up, Yoongi nodded. “We’re live, Vienna. Cops can try all they want, but they’re not keeping me out of this feed. Seokjin might’ve been cute with his little shutdown attempt, but he’s about to learn how stubborn I am.”

Namjoon grinned, pleased. “Good. Let’s make sure we don’t disappoint our audience.”

At the sound of Yoongi’s words, Yejin visibly shrank back, clutching her dress as she looked around the room with wide eyes, her voice trembling. “Wh-what are you planning to do with me?”

Namjoon smiled at her like a kindly professor, folding his hands in front of him. “Well, you’re here to help us deliver a message. Don’t worry; you don’t even have to do much, Mrs. Han.” He glanced at the moderators, who looked ready to collapse. “These two are exhausted anyway. Couldn’t have asked for a better understudy.”

Jinwoo, one of the moderators, let out a strangled laugh that turned into a cough. “This is insane… you’re going to broadcast her live?” He looked almost pleadingly at Namjoon, as if hoping the plan might somehow change.

Namjoon fixed him with a steely gaze. “Yes, this is the plan. Don’t tell me you wanted a different outcome?” He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you’d like to sit in her place instead, huh?”

Jinwoo paled, shaking his head vigorously. “N-no, I’ll just… be here.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Yejin, voice oozing with a mix of charm and menace. “Think of it this way, Yejin-ssi. You’re going to help us show Seoul something real, something all your fans are dying to see.” He leaned in, smiling just enough to make her shudder. “It’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

Yejin’s gaze darted to the blinking red camera light, her breathing turning shallow as she forced herself to speak. “I… I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

Jimin burst out laughing, shaking his head as he glanced over at Hoseok, who raised his eyebrows. “Oh, honey,” Jimin said, voice dripping with mock sympathy, “You think you get a choice here?”

Hoseok chuckled, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sweetheart. Think of it as the wedding day you’ll never forget. All the press coverage a girl could ask for,” he said, throwing in a wink.

Yoongi muttered from his laptop, “It’ll probably go viral. ‘Bride becomes hostage for national truth reveal.’ You’re welcome.”

Yejin’s shoulders slumped as she gave Yoongi a horrified look, her voice barely a whisper. “This is a nightmare…”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s not that bad,” Jimin chimed in, his tone almost cheerful as he leaned close to her. “Honestly, it’s way better than all those selfies you take. And hey, maybe you’ll pick up a few new followers.”

Yejin’s face twisted as she fought back tears, giving him a tiny, defiant shake of her head. “I… I won’t do it.”

Namjoon tilted his head, amused. “That so?” he replied smoothly, tone laced with sarcasm. “Funny, I didn’t realize we were asking.” He nodded to Yoongi, who started the feed with a tap of his fingers.

******

[Live Broadcast - Wedding Korea TV]

Screen fades in from black, revealing the familiar, dimly lit set. Kim Hyejin and Park Jinwoo are seated behind the desk, both looking noticeably more exhausted and rattled than in previous broadcasts. A masked figure stands behind them, arms crossed, exuding an air of amused menace. Kim Hyejin glances nervously at the camera before clearing her throat.

[Masked Man]: (drawling with a smirk in his voice)
“Good evening, everyone. You know, it’s been quite a day, hasn’t it? And I thought, what better way to wrap up the night than with a little… intrigue?” He chuckles softly, glancing around at the unnerved guests. “You’ve seen our little teasers, our warm-ups. But this? This, my dearest audience, is one of the main events.”

The camera shifts slightly, catching Han Yejin’s stunned face. Her eyes widen as the masked man turns toward her.

[Masked Man]: (mockingly sympathetic)
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Ms. Han. You knew we’d get here eventually, didn’t you?” He turns back to the camera. “Now, dear viewers, you’ve been with us all day. You know what our secrets have been worth, yeah? This one… this one is priceless.”

Hyejin and Jinwoo sit frozen, unsure of what’s coming next. The masked man’s voice drops to a smooth, low tone.

[Masked Man]:
“Tonight, we’re doing things a bit differently. Instead of serving it all up on a silver platter, we’ll be holding an auction. That’s right—Han Yejin’s deepest, darkest truth will go to the highest bidders. The three top offers get a front-row seat to the most exclusive story in town.”

Han Yejin’s face goes pale, her fingers clenching in her lap as her eyes dart around the room, panicked. The masked man chuckles, clearly reveling in her distress.

[Masked Man]: (grinning under the mask)
“Don’t worry, Ms. Han. You’ve got until 8 a.m. to enjoy your last hours of privacy.” He leans into the camera. “So, my dear audience, sleep well… or maybe stay up all night counting your money. We’ll announce the lucky winners bright and early. Sweet dreams.”

The masked man steps back, gesturing grandly to Hyejin and Jinwoo, who sit with papers clutched tightly in their hands. They exchange a helpless look before Jinwoo, swallowing visibly, faces the camera.

[Park Jinwoo]: (voice trembling)
“We… we’ve been asked to, um… address the police directly.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “To ensure the comfort of our guests, we need… sleeping bags for everyone in attendance. If you could please… arrange that promptly.”

The masked man chuckles, cutting in with sarcastic glee.

[Masked Man]:
“You heard him, officers! We wouldn’t want these fine folks getting cold feet, now, would we?” He snickers, his gaze shifting back to the terrified wedding party. “They’ll be staying the night. A good host never lets his guests go without proper accommodations, isn’t that right?”

Hyejin’s hands are shaking as she lifts the next page of instructions, her voice barely above a whisper.

[Kim Hyejin]: (trying to sound professional)
“And… and please ensure you deliver the equipment quickly. The, um, comfort of our guests depends on it.”

[Masked Man]:
“Oh, indeed. We wouldn’t want anyone feeling neglected, would we?” He addresses the guests, his voice dripping with irony. “Everyone, settle in! This is going to be a night to remember. We’ll be back with our grand reveal tomorrow at 8 a.m., after a nice, restful slumber. Isn’t that thoughtful of us?”

The camera zooms in on Han Yejin, her wide eyes filled with dread, as the masked man chuckles again, his mocking laughter echoing in the room.

[Masked Man]:
“Sleep tight, everyone. We’ll see you in the morning… and don’t worry, Ms. Han, your secret is safe for just a little while longer.”

With a final mocking wave, he turns to the camera, making a dramatic gesture for the screen to fade out.

[End of Broadcast]

******

Jungkook 

The police tent was in a frenzy. Officers buzzed around, frantic, with an edge of desperation slicing through the air. Every screen had been taken over by a chilling new reality—the livestream was back up. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at the screen, taking in the polished, horrifyingly well-made page of HiddenTruths. Bids were already pouring in, with secrets dangling like trophies, and the gang had launched a twisted auction for information on the guests. His stomach churned with fury.

Captain Park stormed over, barking orders, veins visible on his neck as he slammed his fist on the table. “What the hell is going on, Seokjin?” he growled, glaring at the cybersecurity specialist who was still pounding furiously at his keyboard, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.

Seokjin barely looked up, his eyes fixed on the monitor, trying to wrestle control back. “They’ve pulled a fast one, Captain. I had the livestream offline—thought we’d locked it down. But these bastards… they’ve got layers to this thing. We cut one feed, they had another lined up, ready to go,” he spat, his jaw set tight in frustration.

“It’s absurd. An auction? They’re literally selling people’s damn lives,” Captain Park muttered, his voice strained with anger and disgust. His gaze flickered to the screen, where the highest bids were rolling in, flashing almost tauntingly. “Have they no shame? And people are actually buying into this?”

Jungkook watched the captain’s reaction, his own frustration boiling over. He didn’t just see taunting criminals; he saw the smug faces of these masked lunatics, laughing behind their screens, daring the police to catch up. His fists clenched as he glanced to the side, where Lee Jaesun, the older brother of the groom, stood, pale and visibly shaken. Jaesun’s eyes darted over the screen, recognition dawning in his expression as he read the names flashing by.

“Yejin…” Jaesun’s voice was barely a whisper. He looked horrified, like he’d been slapped. “Sanghoon’s wife… How—how could she be caught up in all this?” His voice trembled, a mix of betrayal and shock. Yejin wasn’t just a name on the screen for him; she was family, someone he’d trusted, someone now entangled in this nightmare.

Jungkook’s gaze softened for a split second as he watched Jaesun. He knew all too well what it was like to feel helpless, like the world was slipping through your fingers. He put a hand on Jaesun’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey,” he said softly, voice edged with steel. “These bastards might have the upper hand now, but it won’t last. They’re getting cocky, putting on a show for us, and that’s when they’ll slip. We’re going to bring them down. They won’t get away with this.”

Jaesun nodded, his face hardening with a resolve that matched Jungkook’s. But as Jungkook looked back at the screen, he felt like an animal backed into a corner. The thought that these criminals were playing them, broadcasting secrets to the world, made him feel sick. And now, to top it off, they were being forced into roles they never imagined—maids for these kidnappers, scrambling to organize over a hundred sleeping bags by hours. The humiliation was almost unbearable.

His hand tightened into a fist, eyes darkening with frustration. The kidnapper’s words replayed in his head, mocking, daring him to come and play their game. But he was done playing by their rules. They had to turn the tables, and fast. Restlessness pulsed through him like wildfire, every nerve screaming for action, for retribution. He couldn’t sit around any longer. He needed to do something. Anything.

Pacing the tent, his mind raced. His gaze fell on Seokjin, who had just finished barking updates to the captain. And then, an idea struck him, cold and sharp. He crossed over to Seokjin, his expression all business, voice low.

“Seokjin, do we have any bugging devices on hand?”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, thrown off by the sudden question. “Maybe a handful in our equipment stash… why?”

Jungkook’s mouth curled into a grim smile. “We’re going to bug a few of those sleeping bags. Slip them in discreetly so maybe, just maybe, we can pick up something useful. These masked freaks want to make this game complicated? Let’s make it a bit harder for them, yeah?”

Seokjin’s eyes lit up in realization. “Bugged sleeping bags… Smart. It’s subtle enough. It could work.”

Captain Park, overhearing the plan, gave a nod of approval. “Get on it, Seokjin. If we can’t shut them down, we’ll listen in and beat them at their own game.”

Seokjin grabbed his laptop, hastily making a checklist, while Jungkook’s jaw remained clenched, determination gleaming in his eyes. Finally, they had a sliver of hope—a way to pull one over on these criminals.

The plan set everything in motion. Officers scrambled around the tent, gathering equipment, making calls, and organizing the logistics for the sleeping bags. The flurry of activity gave Jungkook a renewed sense of purpose, a taste of control in this chaotic mess. He needed to catch these people, to be one step ahead for once.

As the team prepared to embed the bugs, Jungkook felt the fire of determination rising in him. He would listen, he would learn, and he would find their weaknesses. Because no matter how cunning they thought they were, he’d find them. And when he did, there’d be no mercy.

*******

Barcelona 

Jimin led Yejin down the dimly lit hallway, his gaze sharp, lips curling into a smirk as he watched the once-glamorous bride stumbling along in her extravagant gown. She looked nothing like the goddess plastered across Seoul’s billboards, her eyes hollow, makeup smudged. He leaned in, his voice low and dripping with sarcasm.

“Look at you, princess.” His smirk widened as he nudged her forward. “Should be grateful. You’re getting a nice, cozy room all to yourself. Meanwhile, your groom? Oh, he’ll be curled up on a ballroom floor with nothing but a flimsy sleeping bag.” He gave a mock shiver. “Such luxury, yeah?”

Yejin shot him a blank stare, utterly drained, as though the weight of her shattered image had finally caught up with her. Her silence only seemed to amuse Jimin more. He let out a soft, satisfied chuckle. “Guess your followers won’t be seeing this side of you anytime soon, huh?”

She glanced down, saying nothing, and Jimin rolled his eyes. No fun. “Come on, lighten up. Or would you prefer a cozy spot on the ballroom floor with the rest of them?”

With that, he opened the door to a small, dimly lit room. Inside, two masked men were stationed, one standing guard by the door, the other seated in the far corner, watching silently. Jimin waved his hand with a dramatic flourish, as if presenting a grand palace. “Welcome to your exclusive suite, Miss VIP. Only the best for Seoul’s top influencer.”

She drifted inside without a word, sinking onto the bed with the grace of a deflated balloon. Jimin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with a grin that was anything but comforting. “Try not to get any ideas, yeah? My friends here are reporting right back to me.” He winked, but Yejin barely blinked.

“Silent treatment, huh?” He gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Man, influencers in real life are just like regular people—boring.” He clucked his tongue, then pushed off from the door. “Enjoy your privacy while it lasts, sweetheart.” With a last, mocking salute, he closed the door, leaving her in the care of the masked men.

When he finally rejoined the team in the main hall, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok were already assembled, each carrying their unique aura. Namjoon looked dead serious, eyes scanning each of them like they were soldiers reporting for duty. Yoongi sat in his usual nonchalant sprawl, fingers idly scrolling through the latest auction updates, looking like he’d rather be napping. And Hoseok, ever the optimist, grinned at Jimin as if he’d just returned from a victorious battle.

Namjoon took a quick glance at Jimin and raised an eyebrow. “Everything secure with the bride?”

“Secure? Please, she’s practically catatonic,” Jimin replied, snickering. “You’d think someone snatched away her Instagram account or something.”

Hoseok chuckled, shaking his head. “Must be tough, huh? Going from luxury suites to a bare-bones room with two goons watching you.”

“Can’t imagine,” Jimin said, feigning sympathy as he clasped a hand over his heart. “Almost makes me want to cry. Almost.”

Namjoon let out a sigh, his expression all business. “Alright, enough joking around. We’re heading into the next phase. Barcelona, Havana—you’re on crowd control. Sleeping bags are coming soon, and I want you to make sure each guest gets one.”

Hoseok groaned but kept a grin on his face. “Ah, yes, crowd control. Nothing like managing a room full of miserable elites.”

Jimin perked up, eyes gleaming. “Oh, come on, Havana, don’t sound so thrilled. Think of it as a ‘sleepover experience’ for Seoul’s finest.” He nudged Hoseok, his grin widening. “We’re making memories here.”

“Yeah, sure, like memories of how much they hate us.” Hoseok shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Guess I should’ve brought marshmallows and a campfire.”

Yoongi, meanwhile, was glued to his laptop, completely unfazed. He scrolled through the auction comments, his expression unreadable. “People are really pouring their money into this auction,” he muttered. “I just saw a bid claiming he’d sell his own mother for some dirt on Han Yejin”

Jimin leaned over to take a peek, his eyes widening. “Sell his mother? See, this is why I love humanity. Pure desperation.” He chuckled, patting Yoongi’s back. “Keep that auction running smoothly, Cairo. We’re practically doing charity work here—giving people what they really want.”

Yoongi sighed, deadpan. “If only this charity paid in naps.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, his brow furrowing as he stared at each of them. “Alright, everyone knows their role. Just stay sharp. Police should be delivering the sleeping bags soon, so keep your eyes peeled.”

“Right, because it’s not like they’d ever play dirty,” Jimin snorted, rolling his eyes. “They’re totally the good guys, after all.”

Just then, the steady jazz melody playing in their earpieces subtly shifted, morphing into a slow, rhythmic rock tune. All of them froze, the faint chords vibrating in their ears. The casual beat felt ominous, like a warning light suddenly blinking on. Jimin’s eyes lit up, a spark of excitement flickering to life as he looked around.

“Well, well,” he whispered, voice barely concealing his thrill. “Looks like Seonsaengnim’s throwing a twist into our little party. Wonder what’s coming?”

Hoseok groaned, tilting his head back. “Please, no. Are the police actually trying something? Haven’t they had enough humiliation for one night?”

Namjoon’s face was a mask of resolve, though a slight twitch in his jaw betrayed his unease. “We don’t know what it is, but everyone stay alert. Could be the police plotting something, could be something else. Either way, eyes open and be ready for anything.”

Jimin’s grin only grew, his hands itching with anticipation. “Oh, don’t look so grim, Vienna. This is what we live for, right? A little unexpected thrill to keep things exciting.”

“Exciting for you, maybe,” Hoseok muttered, glancing back toward the ballroom. “I’ll be over there, trying to keep these guys in line without losing my mind.”

Jimin clapped a hand on his shoulder, winking. “Come on, buddy, we’re making memories here. Imagine all the heartwarming stories we’ll tell after this.”

“Yeah, I’ll start with the one where we didn’t sleep for two days,” Hoseok replied dryly, but a grin tugged at his lips.

Namjoon raised his hand, signaling for silence. “Enough chit-chat. We’ve got guests to take care of, sleeping bags to distribute, and an auction to monitor. Just remember—this isn’t just some ‘heist,’ alright? Seonsaengnim planned this down to every last detail. Let’s make sure we don’t screw it up because we got too comfortable.”

“Aw, Vienna,” Jimin sighed, eyes twinkling with mock adoration. “Always the motivational speaker, huh?”

Namjoon just gave him a look, completely unamused. “Save the flirting for later, Barcelona. Right now, we’re on the clock.”

Jimin gave him a playful salute, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Whatever you say, Captain.” He exchanged a look with Hoseok, their expressions laced with a mix of excitement and tension.

As they parted to get into their positions, the rock melody hummed steadily in their ears, a constant reminder of the unexpected twist looming on the horizon. For Jimin, this was the thrill he’d been waiting for—a challenge wrapped in suspense, topped with just the right amount of danger. Bring it on, he thought, his heart pounding with anticipation.