Hi, cutie behind the screen. If you've read a book of mine before, welcome back. If this is your first time. Good luck. I hope my chaotic writing doesn't scare you away.

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N E W Y O R K

8 ᴘᴍ

"Park Jimin, are you serious?" Sora yelled out, frowning as she stomped into the kitchen of the apartment her and Jimin shared.

"Shit, what'd I do this time?" Jimin mumbled, as he was sprawled out on the couch, watching television.

"Can you explain to me why my makeup brushes are sitting in the toilet?" She frowned as she waited for his response.

"Aha." He chuckled as he sat up nervously. "You see babe, I needed the sink to wash my tools—

"My brushes were there first Jimin! You can't just throw them in the toilet and not tell me.." She crossed her arms.

"Oops." Jimin shrugged his shoulders, averting his eyes back to the tv screen.

"You're so stubborn." Sora groaned, marching back to the bathroom. She grabbed Jimin's tools and threw them into the toilet. She then took her brushes out, and placed them back into the sink.

"Two can play this game." She smirked.

"When's dinner ready?" Jimin asked, still focusing on the flashing screen directly in front of him.

"When are you gonna get a job?" Sora suddenly asked, gaining his attention.

"Baby, we talked about this." He sat up, turning the tv off. "I'm looking, okay?"

"Are you?" She crossed her arms. "Or are you too busy playing poker and going clubbing with your friends?"

"I— how'd you know about that?" He raised a brow, shocked that he'd been caught red handed.

"Jimin, when are you going to start being a responsible husband? You know my parents already hate me for marrying you, so why can't you just change already." She sighed, throwing the rag in her hand.

"Yeah, and my parents didn't exactly die for me to marry such a stubborn little bit—

He stopped as he gazed into Sora's sad eyes. Jimin knew words like that hurt her. She came from a clean and well off family, unlike Jimin, who only likes vacationing and having fun.

"I— Sora I didn't mean it." Jimin held his hand out, trying to reach for her. She pursed her lips together, holding in her tears, as she ran to her room.

C A L I F O R N I A

5 ᴘᴍ

"The vase can go behind the picture frame."

Jungkook squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on the gift he received from his partnering company in Thailand.

"Here sir?" One of the maids asked him, holding the vase above an empty spot.

"Yes that's fine for now." He nodded, before looking down at his watch. "Thank you for the help Anne, but they should be here any minute." He smiled.

Jungkook headed towards the kitchen to check on the food they'd be serving to their forthcoming guests this evening. It was definitely a grand space, to say the least. His eyes widened as he focused on the piles of slob his wife threw onto the plates. Flour covered the marble countertop, spilling onto the floor as well.

"Faye!" He called out from the bottom of the rounded stairs.

"What?" She responded. "I'm busy curling my hair!"

"Honey that doesn't matter right now! Your hair's fine, trust me." He licked his lips as he began to feel nervous about the time.

"I look like I belong in a trash bag." She whined, while walking down the steps.

Jungkook slowly shook his head as Faye stood close enough to him, grabbing onto the rails as she carefully walked down the last couple steps.

"What are you shaking your head for?" She questioned, crossing her arms.

"Y—your dress.." He stuttered, pointing at the skin tight leather dress she was wearing.

"Do you like it?" She giggled, twirling herself around.

"Your entire chest is out, Faye..." He narrowed his eyes.

"That's the point." She jokingly nudged him.

"N-no." He spun her around before she could walk away. "You can't wear that."

"Come on Jungkook." She shrugged her shoulders.

"We already discussed this." He tried to explain. "I told you, clothes that are too revealing aren't allowed."

"You want me to wear pajamas Jungkook? I have a onesie, if that makes it any better." Faye crossed her arms as she walked away, letting her heels hit the marble floor.

"And what's with the food?" Jungkook followed her into the kitchen. "You expect me to serve this to our guests?"

"I cooked my mom's recipe." She pointed to the boiling pot that sat on the stove.

Jungkook glanced down at the tomato basil sauce, sprinkled with parmesan. This is what she called a home made recipe? To people like Jungkook, this was something you'd serve to the homeless on a cold winter day.

"You made it seem like this was some gourmet soup that your mother passed down to you." Jungkook kept complaining. "How am I going to serve this?"

"Like this." She hissed, harshly placing a bowl on the counter. "Pour the damn soup, throw in a spoon, and bon appetite."

Jungkook glared at Faye, as she did the exact same. They stood like that for about five minutes, before the door bell rang.

"Your guests are here." She pointed her finger to his chest.

⇽ Ｔｏ ｂｅ ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ ⇾

Just so you all don't get surprised at the end. This book goes by kind of quickly. The ending is a tad bit rushed, so I apologize. But, either way, I hope you enjoy reading. Don't forget to read the prequel! 🤍