A Secret Escape

The karaoke booth door rattled violently, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. The paparazzi were right outside. Jimin placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, his eyes sharp and focused.

Jimin (whispering): “Don’t panic. Just trust me.”

Before she could respond, he pulled her toward the back of the booth, where a narrow service door led to a staircase. He pushed it open, and the two of them slipped into the dimly lit passageway. The voices outside grew louder reporters calling, the sound of footsteps searching.

They hurried down the stairs, Y/n’s heels clicking against the concrete floor. Her mind was racing.

Y/n (thinking): How did I get dragged into this? Park Jimin, of all people! This is insane.

At the bottom of the staircase, Jimin pushed open another door, and suddenly they were outside again. A cool breeze hit her face as she looked around they were in a quiet alley, the city lights glowing in the distance.

Jimin finally stopped running, letting out a breathless laugh.

Jimin: “That was close.”

Y/n leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Her heart wasn’t just racing from the chase it was racing because of him.

Y/n (snapping): “Do you think this is funny?! We almost got caught! Do you know what would happen if your face shows up in tomorrow’s news next to mine?”

Jimin tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Jimin: “I know exactly what would happen. Which is why I’m being careful. But hey ” (he stepped closer, his voice lowering) “you held onto me the whole time. Not once did you let go.”

Her face burned. She quickly looked away, crossing her arms.

Y/n: “Tch… don’t flatter yourself. I just didn’t want to be left behind.”

Jimin chuckled, clearly amused.

They walked together down the alley, their pace slower now. Seoul’s night buzzed around them the glow of neon lights, the chatter of people at food stalls, the scent of roasted meat filling the air. It felt surreal, walking side by side with a global superstar, as if he were just… normal.

Jimin suddenly stopped in front of a small pojangmacha a street food tent.

Jimin (grinning): “Hungry?”

Y/n (confused): “Wait… you want to eat here? Aren’t you worried someone will notice you?”

Jimin: “That’s the fun part. Besides, I’m starving.”

Before she could argue, he pulled her inside. The tent was cozy, filled with the sound of sizzling food. They sat across from each other at a tiny table, and Jimin ordered tteokbokki and soju.

As the food arrived, Y/n stared at him in disbelief. He had pulled down his mask, laughing and chatting casually, like any other guy.

Y/n (thinking): How is he so calm? If anyone realizes who he is…

But as he dug into the food, grinning like a kid, she couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, she saw Park Jimin not the idol on stage, but the man who just wanted a normal night.

Y/n (softly): “You’re really something, you know that?”

He looked up, chopsticks in hand, eyes twinkling.

Jimin: “Is that your way of saying I’m charming?”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed.

They ate, laughed, and even clinked glasses of soju. For a brief moment, Y/n forgot about the chaos outside. It was simple, warm, almost… perfect.

But reality came crashing back when Jimin’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his smile fading slightly.

Y/n (curious): “Who is it?”

Jimin (hesitant): “…My manager.”

The tension returned instantly. He silenced the call, setting the phone face-down.

Jimin (serious): “Don’t worry. Tonight, I’m not Park Jimin of BTS. Tonight, I’m just… Jimin. With you.”

Y/n’s heart skipped, his words sinking deep into her chest.

But just as the warmth of the moment wrapped around them