Celebrity

“Haaaaiii, beautiiies!!!”

The voice burst out of the phone speakers.. bright, bubbly, and entirely too alive for six in the morning.

“Sorry for being in such a rush today, I really am.. ahh, I still can’t believe it. You know… finally… I.. your Jungkookie.. is the face of L’Oreal Paris. Can you believe it?”

A soft gasp, followed by breathless laughter.

“Because I still can’t. But you have to believe it. Please believe it. I’m still pinching myself.”

Jin walked through the corridor at an unhurried pace, one hand holding the phone upright, the other swinging loosely by his side. The marble floor was cool beneath his bare feet, the house still wrapped in the gentle quiet of early morning. But Jungkook’s voice filled every corner, bouncing off the walls like sunlight.

“Anyway.. today’s a super short, quick get-ready-with-me. I have a shoot in the morning, so I’ll be heading out soon. But before I go, I thought.. why not show you guys what I’m wearing?”

Jin smiled fondly at the screen, nodding along as if Jungkook could see him.

“So proud,” he muttered under his breath.

“Today,” Jungkook continued, dragging the word playfully, “I’m wearing a beige..”

Jin reached the far end of the corridor and gently pushed open the bedroom door.

The voice poured into the room instantly, bright and unapologetic.

Morning light filtered in through half-drawn curtains, painting the walls in soft gold. The bed sat in the center of it all.. sheets tangled, pillows scattered like the aftermath of a restless night. And there, sprawled diagonally across the mattress, was the owner of the room. Hair tousled. One arm flung over his head. Face buried into the pillow as if the world simply did not exist yet.

Jin stepped inside, leaning against the doorframe, hand automatically settling on his hip. His eyes flicked briefly to the bed before returning to the phone, his smile widening as Jungkook spun in front of the mirror on-screen.

“Dad is calling you,” Jin said casually, not even lowering the volume.

A loud giggle burst from the phone.. sharp and sudden.

The person on the bed groaned immediately, shoulders tensing as the sound pierced through his sleep. He dragged the pillow over his ear with a huff.

“How many times,” he muttered, voice thick and rough, “do I have to tell you not to play that stupid thing in the morning?”

Jin clicked his tongue. “Stupid?” he repeated, offended. “What’s your problem? I’m learning something.”

He tilted the phone slightly, studying Jungkook’s outfit with exaggerated seriousness.

“Not like you.”

“Learning?” The man on the bed let out a dry scoff. He shifted, rolling onto his side, eyes still stubbornly shut. “Jin-hyung… don’t you have anything else to watch?” He paused, then added pointedly, “This time, you should watch things that actually affect the baby’s mental health.”

He yawned, wide and unrestrained.

“I recommend you read a good inspirational book. Maybe an autobiography.”

Jin gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest as if wounded.

“Excuse me?” he said. “This is very important.”

He placed his free hand over his stomach, rubbing it slowly, affectionately.

“Mom said if I watch beautiful people during this time,” he continued proudly, “my baby will be beautiful.”

There was a long pause.

Then a tired, incredulous laugh escaped the bed.

“Wow,” the man said, finally pushing himself up. He sat there for a moment, hair falling messily over his forehead, blinking against the light like he’d been dragged out of another universe. “Amazing theory. Truly revolutionary.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, dragging a deep sigh out of his chest.

“Well done, Jin-hyung. Nobel Prize-worthy logic.”

Jin only grinned wider, turning the volume up another notch as Jungkook excitedly waved at the camera.

“See?” Jin said smugly. “Even he agrees.”

The man cracked one eye open, finally looking at the phone, then at Jin.

“…You know,” he murmured, voice softer now, resignation settling in, “at least mute him when Dad calls.”

Jin shook his head immediately. “Too late.”

He moved closer to the bed, perching himself at the edge, still holding the phone up proudly.

“The baby likes him,” he added simply.

The man sighed again.. but this time, there was a faint smile tugging at his lips as he leaned back against the headboard.

The house continued to wake slowly around them.. sunlight climbing higher, voices filling the silence, laughter replacing sleep.

And just like that, the morning belonged to them.

“Anyway… why was Dad searching for me?” the person asked, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. The cold floor instantly woke him up a little more as he stretched, arms lifting over his head.

Jin barely glanced away from the phone. “How will I know, Tae? Ahhh.” He shrugged dramatically. “Mr. Lee was here last night before you reached home. Maybe it’s something related to him?”

Taehyung frowned slightly, mind already working through possibilities as he dragged a hand through his messy hair. Before he could respond, Jin tapped the screen, closing one video and opening another.

This time, Jungkook appeared again.. calmer, more instructional.

“Okay guys, today I’m going to show you how to get rid of dandruff naturally..”

Jin’s posture immediately straightened.

His eyes turned serious, focused, almost scholarly, as if he were attending an important lecture. He leaned closer to the screen, brows knitting in concentration, completely forgetting Taehyung’s presence.

Taehyung watched him for a second, unimpressed.

“How many of his videos do you watch in a day?” he asked, heading toward the wardrobe.

“None of your business,” Jin replied instantly, waving a dismissive hand without even looking up.

Taehyung scoffed, grabbing a fresh t-shirt. “It is my business.. especially when my room is filled with that irritating voice from morning till night.”

He rubbed his temple, already feeling a headache forming. “Does Mom not say anything to you? Seeing you watch these… stupid things all day?”

That finally made Jin pause.

He sighed, set the phone aside carefully on the bed, and looked up at Taehyung with a very done expression.

“Mom had cracked feet,” Jin said solemnly, as if delivering a life-altering revelation. “And you know what?” He leaned forward slightly. “Jungkook’s tip worked.”

Taehyung froze mid-step.

“Have you seen her feet nowadays?” Jin continued proudly. “Smoother than butter.”

Taehyung stared at him, then let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the bathroom.

“Oh my goodness,” he muttered. “I just hope she doesn’t slip somewhere because of that.”

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him.

Jin rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, reached for the phone again, and resumed the video, nodding along as Jungkook explained oils and massage techniques.

“See?” Jin murmured to himself. “Useful.”

The tutorial continued playing softly in the background, filling the room once more.. unbothered, uninterrupted, and very much a part of their everyday chaos.

As Taehyung closed the bathroom door behind him, the sudden quiet wrapped around him like a pause in time. He stood still for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Sleep still lingered in his eyes, faint shadows resting beneath them, but there was a sharpness there too.. habitual, thoughtful.

He lifted a hand, running his fingers through his hair, then down his beard, feeling the uneven growth beneath his fingertips. His lips curved faintly.

“A shave would do,” he murmured to himself.

He turned on the sink, the soft rush of water filling the space, and reached for the razor. Slow, practiced strokes followed, the mirror fogging slightly as he worked. With each pass, his face emerged cleaner, sharper.. more awake. When he was done, he rinsed his face and patted it dry, studying the reflection one last time before nodding in quiet approval.

Then he moved toward the shower.

He peeled off his clothes piece by piece, letting them fall carelessly onto the chair nearby, and stepped under the stream. Warm water cascaded over his shoulders, sliding down his back, easing the lingering stiffness from sleep. He let out a low breath, eyes fluttering shut as the heat seeped into his muscles.

For a few seconds, he allowed himself to simply stand there.. still, silent.

But his mind was already moving.

Meetings. Calls. Conversations he needed to have. Things he had been putting off. His father’s call lingered at the edge of his thoughts, unresolved and faintly unsettling.

The water continued to run, steady and soothing, as Taehyung mentally mapped out his day.. each task lining itself up neatly, even as a quiet heaviness settled in his chest.

Another morning. Another list.

And yet, for now, under the warmth of the shower, he let himself breathe.

As he stepped out of the shower, a faint cloud of steam followed him into the room. The space felt quieter now.. emptier. Jin was already gone, the bed neatly abandoned, the earlier chaos reduced to a lingering sense of warmth.

Taehyung walked toward the closet and opened it, his fingers moving without hesitation. His eyes skimmed past casual wear, settling instead on a neatly pressed three-piece suit. Today demanded formality. Authority.

He pulled it out, laying each piece carefully on the bed before dressing with practiced efficiency. Shirt first. Then the trousers. The waistcoat followed, buttons fastened one by one, precise and unhurried. He slipped on the blazer last, rolling his shoulders slightly as the familiar weight settled over him.

His phone lit up on the bedside table.

7:50 AM.

Taehyung exhaled softly.

He picked up the tie, draping it around his neck as he glanced at his reflection once more. Sharp. Collected. Every trace of morning grogginess replaced by composure.

With the tie still loose in his hands, he stepped out of the room and walked down the corridor toward the office.. where his father would be waiting.

The house seemed to hold its breath as he moved forward, footsteps echoing lightly, each step carrying him closer to a conversation he could already feel on his chest.

Taehyung lifted his hand and tapped gently on the wooden door, as he reached the office room.

“Dad,” he called.

A faint, muffled come in followed, and he pushed the door open.

His father sat behind the large desk, a newspaper spread neatly in his hands. He lowered it slightly as Taehyung entered, sharp eyes immediately taking in his appearance. Then he glanced at the wristwatch peeking out from beneath his sleeve.

“Early today?” Mr. Kim asked.

“I have a meeting at eight-thirty,” Taehyung replied evenly, stepping further into the room. “With a client. It’s on the way to the office.”

Mr. Kim hummed in acknowledgment, folding the newspaper and setting it aside.

“Mr. Lee came yesterday,” he said. “Don’t you think we should go through the files once again before canceling the deal?”

Taehyung straightened instinctively, shoulders squaring.

“Forty percent on logistics isn’t feasible,” he said without hesitation. “I studied the file in detail. It’s a bad deal for us.”

He paused only briefly before continuing, voice calm but firm.

“We already have M&M Logistics offering the same services at thirty percent. Choosing Mr. Lee would only add unnecessary cost to production. I’d prefer M&M. I can close the deal at twenty-five.”

Mr. Kim hummed again, thoughtful this time, fingers tapping lightly against the desk.

“You’re confident this will work?”

“Definitely,” Taehyung replied, certainty settling into every syllable.

Another hum followed.. longer, more contemplative.

Taehyung glanced at his watch.

8:00 AM.

“I need to leave now,” he said respectfully.

Mr. Kim nodded once, a silent approval passing between them.

Taehyung turned, straightened his jacket, and walked out of the room.. steps measured, mind already shifting toward the meeting ahead.

Meanwhile, in another part of the country…

Morning arrived quietly, sunlight slipping through the curtains and pooling lazily across the floor.. but it did nothing to disturb the figure sprawled across the bed, buried deep in slumber.

Jungkook lay diagonally, one arm flung over his pillow, hair a complete mess, lips slightly parted as he breathed evenly. The room around him looked like a storm had passed through. Clothes were scattered across the floor, yesterday’s outfit tangled with hoodies and socks. Near the wall, several unopened packages were piled up neatly.. still sealed, still waiting to be unboxed for content that hadn’t happened yet.

The door creaked open.

A woman in her fifties stood there, hands planted firmly on her hips, surveying the scene with narrowed eyes.

“Woah,” she muttered. “Still asleep?”

She stepped inside, unimpressed, and let out a scoff.

“Then what about your ‘wake up at five,’ yoga, fitness routine, skincare, and perfectly balanced breakfast, hmm?” she asked pointedly. “When are you planning to stop lying to people, Jungkook?”

She bent down, gathering the scattered clothes from the floor, muttering under her breath as she worked.

“One day,” she continued, glancing at the sleeping form, “I’m going to show your subscribers all this.” She held up a crumpled hoodie. “They should know how their Baby Koo really lives.”

She reached the bed and swatted his leg lightly.

“Ouch.. mommmm,” Jungkook whined immediately, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the pillow.

“It’s already eight twenty,” she said firmly.

Jungkook hummed something unintelligible and pulled the blanket over his head, cocooning himself deeper as if that would pause time.

Mrs. Jeon sighed, shaking her head.

“Whom am I even talking to?” she muttered.

Then, almost casually, she added, “Anyway, your dad is asking for you. Your professor called him this morning.”

That did it.

Jungkook shot upright instantly, blanket sliding down his shoulders.

“Why?” he demanded, eyes wide. “And who gave him his number? I only gave your number!”

He scratched his head in agitation, hair sticking out in every direction.

Mrs. Jeon paused, then answered honestly, “I… I gave it to him when he called. I thought it would be better if he spoke directly to your father.”

Jungkook stared at her, horrified.

“Ahhh.. why would you do that?” he groaned, kicking his foot against the mattress in frustration. “Mom!”

Mrs. Jeon simply smiled, arms crossing over her chest.

“Wake up,” she said sweetly. “Real life is calling.”

“I don’t want tooooo,” Jungkook cried out dramatically, dragging the word as he peeled himself off the bed like a reluctant child.

He slid down until his feet hit the floor, blanket slipping away, and then.. without even sparing the bathroom a glance.. waddled straight out of the bedroom. His steps were slow and uneven, eyes half-closed, fingers scratching lazily at his head and then his forehead as if trying to wake his brain up manually.

He reached the dining room and dropped himself onto a chair with a heavy thud, pulling his legs up and resting them shamelessly on the table.

“Mom,” he called out, voice raspy with sleep.

A beat.

“Mom,” he repeated.

Then, louder, “Coffee.”

Mrs. Jeon emerged from Jungkook’s room, arms full of clothes that clearly needed laundering. She paused in the doorway, giving him a long look.

“Ah?” she said pointedly. “Didn’t you say you’re not drinking coffee anymore?” She lifted an eyebrow. “It’s water and honey in the morning now. Remember?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes dramatically, tipping his head back against the chair.

“Water and honey won’t give me the strength to face the cruel world ahead,” he declared.

Without waiting for permission, he reached for the jar sitting on the dining table, twisted it open, and fished out a cookie, biting into it with satisfaction.

“Aish,” Mrs. Jeon scolded immediately, rushing forward. “How many times have I told you not to eat before brushing your teeth?”

She snatched the jar away from his hands.

“I brushed last night,” Jungkook argued, unfazed. “So it’s fine.”

He reached out again, reclaiming the jar.

Just as he lifted his hand to grab another cookie..

“Good morning.”

Jungkook froze.

His father walked into the dining room, calm and composed as ever, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table.

In one swift motion, Jungkook dropped his legs from the table, stood up straight, and hurriedly ran his fingers through his messy long hair, fixing his posture like his life depended on it.

“You don’t have class today?” Mr. Jeon asked casually.

“Ah.. yeah… yes,” Jungkook replied, the confidence in his voice slipping almost immediately.

Mr. Jeon glanced at the wall clock.

“It’s already eight thirty.”

“First period…” Jungkook scratched the back of his neck. “The professor isn’t there. Some seminar or something. So…”

Mr. Jeon hummed softly.

“Hmm. About that professor,” he said. “I heard you’ve been skipping classes quite often.”

Jungkook’s heart dropped.

“What?” he blurted out. “Me? Never. I never skip classes. Especially when exams are near.”

Mrs. Jeon shot him an unimpressed look, arms crossed.

“Oh?” Mr. Jeon said calmly. “But your professor said the opposite.”

Jungkook cursed himself internally.

“Jungkook,” Mr. Jeon continued, tone firm but not unkind, “I’ve said this to you many times. You can choose whatever career you want.. modeling, music, anything.. but only after completing your graduation. Studies are important.”

Jungkook nodded obediently, though his eyes rolled mentally.

“Yes, Dad. I know,” he said quickly. “I’ll focus more on my studies.”

Mr. Jeon nodded, satisfied.. for now.

Mrs. Jeon shook her head, keeping the clothes aside and placed a plate of breakfast in front of Mr Jeon.

Jungkook remained standing there, hovering near the dining table like a patient.. or not-so-patient.. puppy, eyes flicking repeatedly toward the kitchen. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fingers drumming lightly against his sides as he waited for the one thing he truly needed to function.

His morning coffee.

Mrs. Jeon let him wait a little longer on purpose, moving around the kitchen at her own unhurried pace. When she finally placed the cup into his hands, he exhaled dramatically, shoulders relaxing as if life had been restored to him.

“Finally” he mumbled, already lifting it to his lips.

Cradling the warm mug, Jungkook turned and padded back to his room, taking slow, careful sips as he walked. The bitterness of the coffee woke his senses bit by bit, easing the grogginess clinging to him.

Back in his room, he nudged the door shut with his foot and dropped onto the edge of the bed, coffee in hand.. ready, at last, to face the day… or at least pretend to.

In another part of the country, time moved differently.

Everything ran fast.. meetings back-to-back, files reviewed and approved, decisions made with precision. Conversations were sharp, efficient. Nothing was out of place. Nothing delayed. Every detail was checked, double-checked, and executed perfectly.

By the time the morning rush settled, Taehyung finally leaned back in his chair.

Not from exhaustion.

But to breathe.

He let his head rest lightly against the back of the seat, eyes unfocused as he stared at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, the hum of productivity fading into a brief pause. He used the moment not to rest, but to gather his thoughts.. to line them up the way he did everything else.

Because even in stillness, his mind never stopped moving.

..to be continued..