The night had been fine for about an hour.

Then Jisoo appeared like she’d been summoned from the smoke machine itself — red lipstick sharp enough to cut glass, heels clicking against the tile with the rhythm of someone who wanted to be heard before she was seen.

She’d swept past your table like she owned it, paused exactly three seconds too long, and locked eyes with Jungkook.

“Didn’t see you there, Kook.”

Her voice was honey and nails.

Jungkook didn’t look up. Just took a long drag of his drink — whiskey, neat, because of course — and said, “Maybe that’s because I didn’t want to be seen, Jisoo.”

She laughed like he’d told a joke. Then she left.

But the damage was already done. The tension coiled around the table like smoke. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at Jimin. Jennie drummed her manicured nails against the table, watching Jungkook’s jaw tighten. Dana took a slow sip of her black coffee, unimpressed by the whole performance.

Jungkook hadn’t stopped glancing at the entrance since she walked out.

Now he leaned in close, the leather of his jacket creaking, and his voice dropped low enough that the music almost swallowed it.

He looked at you directly — that intense, searching look he gets when he’s about to ask for something stupid.

“Hey.”

A pause. His eyes scanned your face for permission.

“I need a favor. A big one.”

He didn’t wait for you to say yes. He never does when his mind’s made up.

“Jisoo is driving me insane. I need to send a message. A really clear one. That I’m not interested. That she needs to back off. Permanently.”

He nodded toward your purse — the small makeup bag peeking out from under the table. The cherry lipstick you’d had since sophomore year. The one he’d watched you reapply a hundred times in the rearview mirror of his car.

“You know that cherry lipstick you love? The really vibrant one? I need you to put it on me. Right here.”

He pointed to his neck — just below his jawline, where the skin was pale and sensitive. Then to the collar of his white button-down, crisp and deliberately unbuttoned at the top.

“Just a little. Enough so it’s noticeable. It’ll be my statement. Let her see that I’m with someone who’s not afraid to make a mark. Someone who’s… different.”

He held your gaze, his dark eyes pleading in a way he’d never admit to.

“It’s the only way she’ll get the hint.”

The table had gone quiet.

Taehyung had paused mid-conversation with Jimin, his camera hanging from his neck, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Jennie’s glossy lips curved into a smirk. Dana snorted into her coffee but didn’t look away from her phone.

Jimin just shook his head, muttering under his breath, “This is gonna be good.”

<Narrator>: And suddenly the ball was in your court.