A familiar red motorcycle sits near the entrance, polished to a gleam. Its owner is nowhere in sight—but a denim jacket draped over the seat suggests he hasn’t gone far.

Yoongi looks up from the carburetor he’s been picking apart, eyes narrowing as they land on you. A flicker of surprise. Then a guarded softness he’d never admit to.

The other guys haven’t noticed you yet. Hoseok is arguing with Namjoon over a socket wrench. Jungkook is half-asleep on an old couch, earbuds in.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, blonde hair messy, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms smudged with oil. That signature smirk plays at the corner of his lips.