Dancing with stranger

Authors pov

In the midst of the lively Park family, there existed a duo notorious for their dynamic and unpredictable nature - the twins. Their reputation preceded them, earning them the nickname ‘The Pugnacious Twins’ among family and friends. Let’s start with Jimin the first half of this formidable pair. Jimin was a sparkplug, always chasing the next thrill and living life on his own terms.

His adventurous spirit and disdain for the mundane often led him down paths his parents would rather he avoid. And yet, it was this very essence that made him so captivating. His motto? ‘Why play it safe when you can live life on the edge?’ Yesterday was a prime example: despite his father’s stern warning to steer clear of clubs, deeming them a ‘danger zone’, Jimin simply shrugged it off.

For him, the thrill of the unknown is too great a temptation to resist. With a heart that craves excitement and a mind that scoffs at caution, Jimin is a force to be reckoned with. And yes, yes he went and it actually got him in big trouble because he got so terribly drunk that he doesn’t even remember how he got in his room and right now he is been questioned why he came back home so late and on top of that, in the midnight. Honestly, Jimin is really good at making excuses or things in his favor but everything took a wild turn when his “snitch of a sister” ratted him out.

“I told you, Mom, I didn’t go anywhere!′ Jimin protested, his voice laced with a hint of desperation as he attempted to sound convincing. ‘You didn’t even check my room - I was fast asleep!’ But his mother’s knowing gaze saw right through his feeble attempt at deception, and she shook her head, a mixture of disappointment and amusement dancing on her face.

“I know you’re denying it, Jimin, but Min-yun swore she checked your room but couldn’t find you, and I know you weren’t in your room like you claimed. Don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment and a hint of sadness, her eyes clouding over with a mix of frustration and hurt.

LAST NIGHT;

Jimin emerged from the bathroom, the towel wrapped around his waist clinging to his damp skin. As he stepped into the room, his phone suddenly sprang to life, the screen lighting up with an incoming message. He padded over to the nightstand, his bare feet making barely a sound on the floor. Picking up the phone, he swiped the screen to reveal the text.

“Are you coming for the party?” the message read.

Jimin’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed out a response. “Is it tonight?”

Jimin lay on the bed, his stomach pressed against the sheets, waiting for the next message. But instead of a text, his phone rang, the automated voice announcing the caller: “My lovely hyung”. A knowing smile spread across his face as he swiped to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Ye-” he began, but was cut off by Hobi’s disapproving tone.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about it?”

Jimins eyes glinted with mischief, “ok, I’m not gonna tell you”.

He could almost see Hobi’s eye roll and heard the mumbled “fucking brat” on the other end of the line.

Hobi sighed, his voice tinged with exasperation. “Just make sure you’re here, or I’ll come to your house and drag you to the club myself.”

Jimin giggled, standing up and walking towards his closet, phone still in hand. “So the party’s at a club?”

Jimin swung open the door to his dressing room, the soft creak of the hinge echoing through the spacious, purple-hued sanctuary. His free hand still cradled his phone, where Hobi’s disapproving tone seeped through the line. “Seriously, Jimin? Weren’t you the one who posted about it?”

As he stepped further into the room, the plush carpet muffled his footsteps. He strode towards the expansive closet, its doors adorned with ornate balustrades, and flung them open with a dramatic flourish. Rows of immaculately organized clothes and accessories gleamed in the soft, golden lighting. “Jesus. hyung, you don’t expect me to recall something I posted last month, do you?” Jimin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Hobi gasped dramatically at his words, “Hyung is right. I have been spoiling you too much uhn?”

Jimin smiled, “Well, even HE spoils me, so you’re not the only one having to bear my sassiness.” He said, bringing out a blue tank top from his closet.

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go now, so you can have time to dress up. Do you have the address?” Hobi asked.

Jimin put the tank top on his shoulder and held the phone with his head, scanning his closet for the perfect outfit. “No, can you please message it to me?” he asked, bringing out a black leather jacket.

Hobi groaned and replied, “I shouldn’t have even asked. I’ll send it to you, but I must see you within twenty minutes.”

Jimin grinned, knowing he had to hurry. “Got it, hyung. See you soon”. A beep sounded, indicating that Hobi had ended the call. Jimin sighed, removing the tank top from his shoulder and holding it up to examine it. He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with the combination of the top and the leather jacket. His face scrunched up in disapproval, he put the tank top back in his closet and searched for a better match.

His eyes landed on a sequined button-down shirt, and a slow smile spread across his face. He paired it with some dark-colored pants and held them up together, admiring the reflection in the mirror. The sparkly shirt added a touch of glamour, and the dark pants balanced it out perfectly.

Satisfied with his choice, Jimin walked back to the bed and dropped the outfit onto the mattress, his phone beside it. He took a moment to glance at the phone, ensuring he had the address and details for the party.

————————————

With a final touch of lip gloss, Jimin smiled at his reflection in the mirror, admiring his handiwork. He turned to check his appearance from the side, making sure everything was perfect. Satisfied, he grabbed his phone and headed for the door.

He opened it slightly and peeked outside, hoping to avoid detection. His dad was away on a business trip, and Jimin was relieved. If he were home, Jimin knew he’d be wide awake, as always, making it impossible to sneak out unnoticed. His dad’s nocturnal habits would have surely caught him in the act.

Jimin emerged from his room and leaned against the ornate balustrades, gazing down into the foyer to see if anyone was still awake. But instead of the darkness he expected, the kitchen light caught his attention, illuminating the room like a beacon. He groaned in annoyance, realizing his mom might still be up.

He retreated back into his room, closing the door firmly behind him and locking it. He glanced at the clock, his heart sank. Only eight minutes left before Hobi expected him. Jimin rested against the door, his hand on his chin, thinking. Then, a spark of inspiration lit up his eyes.

He strode into his dressing room, the purple hues and plush carpet a stark contrast to his racing mind. He flung open the window, revealing the balcony outside. A quick glance down confirmed his room was on the second floor – not too far from the ground.

Jimin dashed to his closet, rummaging through the neatly organized clothes until he found a bed sheet. He tied one end to the balcony railing and dropped the other end down to the floor, creating a makeshift rope. With his phone secure in his pocket, he began to climb down, the bed sheet scraping against the wall as he made his way down.

With his feet firmly on the ground, Jimin swiftly gathered the remaining bed sheet and rolled it into a neat bundle. He hurled it upwards, watching as it landed with a soft thud on the porch above. Then, he strode towards his power bike, parked discreetly in the shadows. He couldn’t take his car because there was no way he could sneak out with that and the front gate was out of the question, with guards stationed outside, but the rarely used back gate offered a convenient escape route.

Just as he was about to swing his leg over the bike’s seat, a voice pierced the night air, making him jump. “Where do you think you’re going?” Jimin spun around, his heart racing, but his fear gave way to relief as he saw the familiar figure of one of the family’s bodyguards, ji-Chang wook. “Hyung! You scared me!” he whisper-shouted, his hand still on his chest.

Chang wook, dressed in a blue hoodie and black sweatpants, approached Jimin, his torch casting flickering shadows on the ground. A cigarette butt hooked between his fingers, and his eyes narrowed as he took in Jimin’s outfit and the bike. “Don’t tell me you’re sneaking out,” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and disapproval.

Jimin’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, retreating back his hand from his chest. “No, I...I was just...uh...getting some fresh air,” he stammered, trying to come up with a convincing excuse.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “At this time of the night, Dressed like that?” He nodded towards Jimin’s outfit, his gaze lingering on the bike. “You’re not fooling anyone, Jimin. Least of all me.”

Jimin sighed, knowing he was caught. “Fine, hyung. I was sneaking out. But please, don’t tell anyone . I won’t take long before I come back”.

He threw the cigarette butt on the floor and stepped on it, his eyes narrowing at Jimin. “What’s so important that you need to sneak out?” he asked, his tone firm.

Jimin pouted, knowing that his expression could get him whatever he wanted. “Please, just this once, Hyung. I’ll be back before you even know it,” he whined, his voice persuasive.

Chang wook sighed, his resolve weakening. “Okay, let me take you then.” He moved past Jimin to get on the bike, but Jimin quickly jumped in front of him, blocking his path.

“I can go myself, no need to stress yourself about it,” Jimin said, trying to convince him but he shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. I know you’re going to the club, and I don’t want what happened last time to happen again.” He used his hand to gently move Jimin away and climbed onto the bike.

Jimin stomped his feet like a child, throwing a tantrum. “That was because I was drunk! You can’t blame that on me! And besides, you also enjoyed it anyway,” he said with a whine, trying to justify his past behavior.

The bodyguard rolled his eyes at Jimin’s words. “If you don’t get on the bike, then I swear I will change my mind, and you know I always keep my word”. He put on the helmet and handed another one to Jimin, who looked at it reluctantly, still not wanting chang wook to follow him.

“You’re not even dressed properly. What if you draw attention with your clothes?” Jimin asked, taking the helmet and climbing onto the back of the bike. He put on the helmet and wrapped his arms around Chang wook’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry. Once I drop you, I’ll stay at a discreet place, but not too far away from you,” chang wook said, putting on his own helmet.

“Can’t I drive?” Jimin asked again, shifting slightly to get more comfortable on the bike.

“No,” He replied firmly, his tone ending the discussion. He turned on the engine and asked, “What’s the location?”

Jimin made an “oh” sound and fetched his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it with a swift swipe of his thumb. He navigated to the messages app, his eyes scanning the screen as he scrolled through the conversations. His fingers moved deftly, stopping at a particular chat before tapping on it to open the conversation.

The screen lit up with the exchange of messages between him and Hobi, and Jimin smiled to himself as he handed the phone to chang wook his phone, the screen displaying the address of their destination. Chang wook’s eyes scanned the screen, his expression unreadable behind his helmet’s visor. “Here?” he asked, his tone neutral.

Jimin nodded, his voice muffled by his helmet. “Yeah, you know the place right?”

Chang wook nodded curtly, his jawline set in determination. They moved towards the back gate, and Jimin swung his leg over the bike, landing softly on the ground. He walked to the gate, his boots making soft crunching sounds on the gravel, and carefully grasped the rusty handle. With a gentle push, he swung the gate open, wincing as the hinges creaked softly. He motioned for him to drive through, and the bike glided silently onto the deserted street.

Jimin followed, closing the gate behind them, making sure it clicked shut without a sound. He walked back to the bike, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, and climbed onto the seat behind chang wook, Wrapping his arms around the bodyguard’s waist, he settled in for the ride. “Hold tight,” chang wook said, his voice low and smooth, as he accelerated into the night.

As they rode, Jimin’s phone buzzed occasionally with messages from Hobi, and he glanced at the screen, sighing inwardly, knowing he’d hear a lot from Hobi later. The city lights blurred together, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that faded into the background as they sped towards their destination.

—————————-

They drove to the location, a club. The neon lights and pulsating music drawing them in like moths to a flame. Outside, people clustered, smoking and chatting, while others made out in the shadows. The club screamed “expensive” - from the sleek design to the VIP entrance. Two burly men stood guard, their eyes scanning the crowd as people occasionally approached, flashing a black card to gain entry with a nod.

Chang wook parked the bike at the side, yielding to Jimin’s persistent whining about not parking at the front. “Not there, Hyung, you’re going to draw attention in those clothes,” Jimin had said, his voice laced with concern. “What if someone sees you in these?“.

He had relented, parking the bike in a more discreet spot. Jimin hopped off as soon as it stopped, removing his helmet to reveal his messy hair. Chang wook followed suit, his expression stern as ever.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” Jimin said with a smile, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the blatant lie.

“I seriously can’t believe I agreed to this,” chang wook muttered, his voice laced with reluctance.

Jimin giggled and pecked him on the cheek, a familiar gesture that didn’t even make him flinch - it clearly wasn’t the first time Jimin had done it. “Of course! And that’s why you’re my favorite,” Jimin said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

He sighed and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Call me once you’re done, or maybe I should just follow you inside?” He reached for the ignition, but Jimin grasped his hand, his grip warm and insistent.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I promise to call you once I’m done or text if I feel uncomfortable with someone,” Jimin said, his eyes shining with persuasion. He released chang wooks hand, and the bodyguard nodded, his expression softening.

He stretched out his hand to help Jimin style his hair, which had become messy from the helmet. He smoothed out the tangles, his fingers gentle as he worked to make Jimin look more presentable for whatever he wanted to do in there. “You are due for a new look. How about I dye your hair before your trip to Spain next week,” he said, his smile wide and teasing.

Jimin smiled, his eyes grateful, and said “sounds good” before turning to walk towards the entrance. “Thanks, Hyung!” he shouted over his shoulder, as he walked towards the entrance.

Chang wook watched, his eyes never leaving Jimin’s back, as he approached the guards and showed them his phone. They nodded, and Jimin turned to wave before disappearing into the club. He sighed, his expression turning serious. He parked the bike properly, turned off the engine, and made his way to the entrance, knowing it would be hard to get into the club uninvited. But he was determined to keep Jimin safe, no matter what it took.

—————————

As jimin entered the club, he was immediately enveloped in a world of pulsating lights and thumping music. The air was alive with the new energy of the crowd, and the smell of expensive liquor and perfume hung heavy over the dance floor. Jimins eyes widened as he took in the lavish decor- plush velvet couches, glittering chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to stretch up to the sky.

He smiled widely, feeling a thrill of excitement as he gazed around at his favourite kind of place to be. This was his element, and he knew he was going to have a great time.

Making his way to the bar, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he hopped onto a stool and nodded to one of the bartenders. The bartender stood tall, his lean physique evident even under his fitted black shirt. His dark hair was styled in a messy, piecey look, and his piercing brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he expertly mixed drinks. A silver earring glinted in his left ear, and his full lips curled into a perpetual smirk, as if he knew a secret no one else did. His sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones gave him a chiseled, angular look, and his smooth, golden skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the club. As he moved with fluid grace, his tattoos - a snake coiled around his right forearm and a sprinkle of stars on his left shoulder - caught the light, adding to his edgy, captivating allure. Despite his edgy look, there was something undeniably cute about him, and jimin felt a giggle rise up in his throat.

“What would you like to have, sir?“. The bartender asked, his voice smooth as he polished a glass with a white cloth.

Jimin grinned mischievously. “Give me your strongest one”.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “You sure about that?”

Jimin shrugged, and the bartender nodded, starting to mix his drink with flourish. Jimin rested his chin on his palm, watching with interest as the bartender worked his magic.

Jimin furrowed his brows as he gazed intently at the bartender, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. Anyone who saw him looking at the bartender with so much focus would think he was interested in the bartender, but that was far from the truth.

The bartender was undeniably hot, but not really Jimin’s type. What caught Jimin’s attention was the way the bartender moved with a quiet confidence, his hands moving with a precision that spoke of more than just mixing drinks. It was the subtle tells of a person who had been in fights, who had learned to rely on their instincts to survive.

Jimin recognized it because he had been part of a gang in high school, had met his fair share of gangsters and fighters. He had stopped when his dad made grave decisions, desperate to steer his son away from the shameful acts that had brought their family so much trouble. Jimin’s dance training had been a welcome distraction, and his dad’s persuasion had been the final push he needed to leave that life behind.

The bartender must have felt Jimin’s gaze on him, because he looked up from what he was doing, his eyes meeting Jimin’s with a hint of curiosity. Jimin smiled, not wanting to seem disrespectful, and the bartender smirked in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He went back to work, finishing Jimin’s drink with a flourish. A few seconds later, he handed it to Jimin, who muttered a “thanks” and took it .

With his drink in hand, Jimin hopped off the stool and plunged into the sea of dancers, his eyes scanning the crowd for Hobi. The bartender’s gaze followed him, and Jimin could feel the weight of his attention. He sipped his drink, the liquor burning down his throat, and let the music consume him.

The bartender watched him go, a smirk playing on his lips. “Interesting”, he muttered to himself, his eyes lingering on Jimin’s disappearing form.

——————

PRESENT TIME

The dining room was tense, the only sound the clinking of utensils against plates as the young girl with long blonde hair and bangs, sitting opposite Jimin, and the toddler in his school uniform, sitting beside Jimin, ate in silence. Jimin’s food sat untouched in front of him, his eyes locked on his mother’s stern face at the front chair of the dining table. His mother, a woman in her forties, looked unyielding, her arms crossed over her chest.

Jimin’s dark hair was messy, and his eyes were narrowed in frustration. “Why would you believe Min-yun’s lies, Mom?” he demanded, his voice rising in frustration. “I was in my room, and she couldn’t have known if I was there or not. My door was locked, so how could she possibly know?”

His mother’s expression remained unyielding, her eyes fixed on Jimin’s face. “Min-yun has no reason to lie, Jimin. And even if she did, I know her well enough to recognize the truth when I hear it”. And this is where the other half, Min-yun comes up. She never misses an opportunity to annoy or piss off her beloved twin brother. Not that she loves seeing him suffering but his reaction is always priceless.

Jimin’s gaze shifted to Min-yun, his eyes blazing with annoyance, but she simply poked her tongue out at him, making him roll his eyes in exasperation. He refocused on his mother, his voice rising. “She has every reason to lie, Mom. But that’s not even the point right now. I feel like I’m a fucking prisoner in my own home. Constantly questioned, constantly doubted. I’m not a child anymore, can’t you just trust me?”

Jimin stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and mouthed a silent “sorry” to the toddler, who pouted at him, disapproving of the bad words. His mother’s expression remained stern. “Where are you going, Jimin?”

“Away from this conversation,” Jimin replied, already walking towards the stairs. His mother sighed heavily and called out after him, “This discussion hasn’t finished yet, Jimin!”

But her words were met with the sound of a door slamming shut. She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. “He’s such a handful,” she muttered to herself, Min-yun’s giggles echoing in the background