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“Taehyung-ssi will say ‘I do’. And then, Yoongi-ssi, that’s your cue to walk out. So, we’ll have full coverage of the wedding. The audience will get to see the location, your styling, the rings, the whole package. So, it’s important that you call it off at the altar, not before.” 

At the outset of the pitch meeting, Taehyung had scooted his chair far back to situate himself directly next to the fan. Now, as Namjoon speaks, the roar of the fan drowns out all nuance from his speech. It’s further exacerbated by the fact that Namjoon is reading off his notes, pages held up before his face to conveniently hide his expressions. 

If Taehyung often feels like a puppet on set, expected to respond to every producer’s tug at his strings, this was his first time seeing the show-writer in the same position. Yoon Lenzo, one of Heartbeat’s two executive producers, is a looming presence in the seat directly next to Namjoon. It had been odd to watch them both squeeze in close together at the head of the table. Taehyung now thinks Lenzo chose the seating arrangement to better pull Namjoon’s strings.

He was probably the reason why it was always Taehyung and his assigned producer on the one side of the table, and Yoongi and his on the other. The setup is confrontational. These meetings always make Taehyung feel like they’re here to discuss division of assets in the midst of gruesome divorce proceedings. Not like they were all there to help the couple best capture their newly blossoming romance for their nationwide audience. 

Taehyung envies Jungkook, who can always flutter around the room. Who’s currently on Yoongi’s side, leaning against the wall next to Soo-Hyun. Their assigned full-time camera persons for Heartbeat. Not deemed important enough to be offered an actual seat at the table. 

Despite the ruckus of the fan and Namjoon’s meek voice, Taehyung gets the picture, the pitch. 

“Whatever happened to this being unscripted? It’s only mentioned on broadcast like ten times an episode.” 

Namjoon looks over, bespectacled eyes peering over the pages he’s holding up like a shield. 

“As always, we’re just here to discuss how we approach the next episode, how we can make this the best finale for our viewers. I’m not assigning you any written script, you’re free to express yourself as you always have.” 

Taehyung squeezes his mouth into a flat line. 

Watching previous seasons of the matchmaking show, he had never given much thought to the behind-the-scenes. He had been too swept up by all the action and drama that unfolded between all the young, beautiful, single people who were desperately trying to shape an eternal bond with one another in the limited time they had. 

In reality, Jimin’s coaxing words had been a constant throughout the past three months. 

Yoongi-ssi? Are you sure? There isn’t someone else you want to pursue? Those had been the typical lines at first, and Jimin hadn’t slowed down throughout the filming, persistently — though sweetly — trying to push Taehyung into certain directions. 

Interviews at the end of the day were long, often featured producers asking him the same question several different ways until Taehyung provided a different answer. Once home and able to catch up on the broadcast, he truly wonders if the way he expresses himself will be packaged in any recognizable manner.

“Taehyung has a point, no? Usually, you’ll ask me to consider approaching things differently for the sake of entertainment. Unless I misunderstood, sounds like you’ve told me to walk out of the wedding. You’re not asking.” 

Taehyung looks up. He loves seeing Yoongi during these meetings. He hadn’t at first, their episode-planning meetings had only merged once they’d both confirmed they had picked each other from amongst the cast. Before the merger, Taehyung had never seen Yoongi without makeup, without the show’s carefully selected wardrobe. Off camera, Yoongi’s style is cool, reserved, understated. These meetings are his only opportunity to be around Yoongi without the cameras rolling. 

Not that anyone ever gives them the chance to talk to each other. 

Yoongi’s intervention alone is unexpected. On set, both Seokjin and Soo-Hyun often encourage Yoongi to speak up, prompt him to share more when his words come to a hesitant stop. Taehyung has always understood that Yoongi is the quiet type. Seeing him off set, however, has shown how much Yoongi embraces it in his day-to-day life. 

Namjoon is quick in his reply, as if he’d prepared a canned answer for this specific question. 

“You’re totally at liberty when choosing your reason not to go through with it. You can leave in whatever way you want, you can tell Taehyung-ssi whatever you like. We just need the variety for the finale. We can’t have happy endings across the board.” 

At first, Taehyung doesn’t really understand it. Jimin has let it slip a few times that Taehyung may just be a fan favourite. The one the nation is watching avidly and attentively. He doesn’t know why he’d be selected for a bad ending. 

Then, he thinks of the whole premise of the show. 24 candidates selected, with the show pre-determining the most compatible couples, the likeliest to forge a quick and unbreakable connection. Leaving it up to the candidates who they want to date, and testing out whether only the pre-determined couples are willing to tie the knot in the space of three months. 

“Isn’t this just because… we weren’t one of the couples you calculated would be most compatible? That’s why you tried so hard to get me to date someone else?” 

Perhaps Jimin had pushed him away from Yoongi that much so that viewers could watch their favourite have his happy ending? And now Taehyung was the warning story that, no matter how likeable one may be, they should not fall for the wrong person? 

“Taehyung, that’s enough,” Lenzo cuts in, face passive but tone scolding. “Try as we might, you’ve done as you pleased since we’ve started filming. You’ve had it your way up to the very end. You can go back to having things your way after the show concludes. For some of our finale couples, these weddings actually mean something. For you two, the marriage would be void regardless of saying ‘I do’ or not. It’s a minuscule sacrifice to play along for one episode, one day.” 

Even though Lenzo’s eyes had never strayed from Taehyung, it’s Yoongi who bites back. 

“Because humiliating my boyfriend on national television is a small sacrifice?” 

It’s the first time Yoongi refers to him as such without cameras present. It cements that tiny hope he holds, that this can lead to something after filming. That Yoongi might just like him as much as Taehyung likes him, and it’s not a face he’s put on to secure a position on the show until the end of the season. 

Taehyung pretends not to notice Jimin’s fond, amused gaze. The same way he pretends not to know that somewhere during the second month of filming, Jimin had started to implicitly encourage Taehyung to go against his word. That Jimin is rooting for his relationship with Yoongi. 

“Like I said, you can cancel the wedding however you want. Even if it’s something like, you like Taehyung so much that you want your families to be there for your union, so you can’t go through with it for the show alone.” 

The mention of family has Taehyung sinking further into his seat. Everyone in the room knows the reason why Taehyung is here. Love had never been the main motivation. Giving himself no chance but to stumble out of the closet had been the entire reason for Taehyung to apply, then to convince himself to actually accept the offer. Once home, he’d have to deal with the reactions, including his family’s. 

He’s so caught up in that constant underlying fear that he almost misses Lenzo’s mumbled “As long as you give us the shot we need.” 

Taehyung doesn’t think it will matter how Yoongi chooses to walk off. Yoongi will be the villain of the story, will be known as the guy who broke Taehyung’s heart. 

“Jin-hyung and I need a smoke break.” 

Taehyung recognizes that as Yoongi’s code for needing a moment, maybe to discuss with Seokjin — Taehyung’s not entirely sure. He just knows that every sweet kiss he’s shared with Yoongi for the cameras has never led him to the conclusion that Yoongi smokes. The odour of tobacco always noticeably absent from Yoongi’s person. He wonders whether Lenzo and Namjoon are aware as well. 

Soo-Hyun sinks into Seokjin’s seat as soon as he stands up, pulling her phone out of her overalls’ front pocket. Taehyung both misses and doesn’t miss his phone at all. Enough time had passed now that when Heartbeat returns his phone, he’s sure to be overwhelmed with the cascade of notifications.

Jungkook, on the other hand, slinks after Taehyung and Jimin’s departing figures. Jimin doesn’t miss a beat, ushering Taehyung in the opposite direction from Yoongi when Taehyung excitedly claims that he needs fresh air. Even after the dozen of episodes planned together, Taehyung hasn’t lost the foolish hope that someone is going to let him join Yoongi during a break. 

As usual, Taehyung finds himself staring out at the long yard behind the building, knowing that Yoongi is at the front instead, near the outdoor ashtrays. Lately, days had felt right on the precipice between late spring and early summer, the air charged with the promise of rainfalls. He wonders if the filming schedule will have “bad ends” filmed on rainy days and “good ends” on sunny ones. 

Jungkook steps into view, hiding the neat rows of flowers and trees. 

“What are you going to do?”

Jimin steps away, closer to the yard’s edge. He lacks in subtlety. Likes to pretend he isn’t listening in, when he always is. Taehyung has learned to take it as silent endorsement, especially given the fact that he’s never reported his little conspiracy with Jungkook.

“I’m going to get him to say ‘I do’ instead.”

Actually, Taehyung hadn’t known that that was his plan until he had vocalized the feeling just then.

Jungkook looks positively radiant with excitement. The same look he’d worn when he’d first found out that Taehyung seriously liked that one contestant; the one whose hometown is also Daegu, the one who listens so attentively and had spoken so quietly of how his passion was passion itself. 

Taehyung had liked Yoongi from their very first conversation. And while Jimin had tried to lure Taehyung towards a different contestant, Jungkook had been eager, would come in extremely close with the camera whenever Taehyung lost himself in staring at Yoongi from across the set. Had asked Taehyung to tell him about Yoongi after each night of shooting. 

“Do you need me to deliver a note to Soo-Hyun? I’ve got some scrap paper in my backpack you can use!”

Taehyung ponders that for a moment. He’d nearly forgotten that this would be the final meeting of this kind. The next time he would see Yoongi would be for their “wedding”.

He can’t imagine making a plea through hurried words on Jungkook’s scrap paper. Not when he’d spent so much time on his previous love notes, using the cute stationery he’d brought to the show to write back home. 

Show policy meant he never got an answer back from his family members and friends. It was comforting in one way. As long as he stayed here, he would be caught in limbo, wouldn’t know if his parents were throwing away his letters in disappointment or if they had readily accepted Taehyung as he truly was. 

Anyway, Yoongi always answered his notes; had even sent the very first one that had kickstarted their secret communications. And Yoongi’s letters always looked as carefully prepared as Taehyung’s. 

“No. No, I’ve got it! I’m going to write the shit out of my vows, and he’s going to be so moved that he’s going to say yes.”

That has even Jimin turning around to look at them. Taehyung’s voice had quickly climbed in both octaves and excitement. Jungkook, however, looks less convinced. 

“You don’t think you should talk to him about it beforehand? How’s he even going to know you want to get married?”

“Well, it’s like Yoon-sajangnim said. It’s not like our union would have any legal effect, anyway. Hyung can afford to act a little recklessly, it’s fine.”

“That was a shitty thing to say,” Jimin grumbles, before turning back towards the yard. 

Jungkook’s attention snaps to Jimin, eyes wide as if he hadn’t yet caught on that Jimin would never tattle on them. 

Taehyung isn’t so good yet at picking up on “shitty comments”, writing most things off as the standard, what he’s always been used to. Filming Heartbeat has opened his eyes a bit more to the micro-aggressions layering others’ language. The way Jimin bristled like an angry cat was usually a helpful clue.

He’d often heard about how progressive the show was, and he’d agreed. Since its inception, it had featured all kinds of couples, including people like Taehyung. Unfortunately, he’s learned that the inclusivity on set wasn’t all he’d thought it would be.

“And anyway,” Taehyung continues, “He’s going to understand through my vows that I want him to say yes. That’s why I said I’d write the shit out of them, I’m going to make them crystal clear.”

Jungkook nods a few times, tense but enthused. Taehyung doesn’t think he’s managed to convince him of the brilliance of his plan. He’s not sure he’s even convinced himself.

“Ok. But are you ok though…?”

That gives Taehyung pause. He sticks his tongue out, presses his lips against it to feel its texture. The grass of the yard had gone a little yellow in the last couple of weeks. Again, he tries to imagine their wedding. Would they be drowned out by the rain? Basked in sunlight? 

Did he feel ok? Had he been feeling ok? 

“This pitch meeting doesn’t change anything,” Taehyung supplies after a while, not yet answering the question. 

“How can it change nothing, Taehyung? They told Yoongi-ssi to turn you down. He’s gone against production before, but... you don’t know all the details. That was really different. This time... I don’t think he’s going to go against it just because you say pretty words. Especially since he’s been given carte blanche about how to drop you.”

Jimin’s sudden insistence is startling. It had been no secret that, during the first month of shooting, Yoongi and Jieun had been production’s darling couple. The relationship they’d wanted the most out of the entire cast. Yoongi throwing that away to date Taehyung couldn’t really be less significant than Yoongi deciding to keep Taehyung’s heart, right? 

“If he walks out, that doesn’t change anything either.” He hesitates to say more. But, then, Jimin actually joins Jungkook’s side. Jimin, who always comes to work formally dressed, always a different luxury watch from a seemingly never-ending parade adorning his left wrist. Who doesn’t get Taehyung in trouble, but always looks carefully detached. Always distantly polite with all other production members. Someone who looks like he has much more important parts to his life that have nothing to do with his work on Heartbeat. His eyes now look impressively expressive. “It’s stupid, let’s just head back inside,” Taehyung adds, slightly panicked. 

Jimin crosses his arms, his collarbones looking particularly sharp where they peek out from his cashmere top. 

“What, are you planning on dropping him once the show’s over?” Jimin’s eyebrows lower, his aura looks increasingly threatening. “Everyone loves you now, I guess you have the pick of the crop, huh? But you get that I picked you over the show, right? I prioritized your needs because I thought you genuinely liked him.”

“Hyung, come on. There’s no way he doesn’t like Yoongi?”

“Once the show’s over, I’ve got nothing,” Taehyung prefaces, voice more strangled than he’d meant it to be. “I applied straight out of university. I have no idea what kind of career I want. I don’t know if my family and friends will have all dropped me... Like I told you, I had never said it out loud, that I was gay. Not once.”

“So like, you’ve got bigger fish to fry than your relationship with Yoongi?” Jungkook clarifies, eyes as wide as before, but maybe a little more watery now. As if the picture Taehyung’s words had drawn was too sad to accept. 

“No, that’s not...” Taehyung cuts himself off, frustrated. This was something he often thought of, but didn’t share. Jimin’s demeanour was still fiercely angry though, so he slumped his posture, eyes fixed on his worn yellow sneakers, defeated. “However he acts for the finale, I still won’t really know if this all meant anything to him until after. It could have all been an act for the cameras.”

“But the... the love letters,” Jungkook says in an exaggerated whisper, as if this kept the matter confidential from Jimin. 

Taehyung shrugs, eyes still analyzing how much dirtier this pair of shoes had become in the last three months, even though he only ever wore them when they weren't on camera, travelling to a shoot destination or for the production meetings. 

“Jimin, you’ve been telling me I’m the crowd favourite. So, Seokjin-ssi knows it too, right? He might have told hyung... and then, I mean. Isn’t that a good way to secure his screen time? Agreeing to be my partner for the show?”

Jimin’s cool mask of anger has cracked into one of confusion. 

“Alright, slow down. That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“I know it doesn’t, but I only know him on camera.”

And Taehyung had been himself for the camera, through and through, but they were still stripped of all intimacy. No matter how his feelings grew for Yoongi, the question lingered. What if Yoongi hadn’t been himself the way Taehyung had been?

“You know him through his letters,” Jungkook insists. Even though he’d only ever been privy to the strategizing and execution of the exchange of letters, had never actually seen their contents. 

Jungkook spoke confidently this time, like he’d accepted that Jimin was looking out for Taehyung, too. 

Taehyung takes one deep breath, then straightens up completely. 

“It’s all good. That’s just background noise. The important thing for now is to get him to say yes!”

He didn’t let his smile waver, not even when Jimin and Jungkook shared a look of worry. 

The first time had been strange. 

Yoongi, with perspiration lining his forehead, had complained again and again that his hands were freezing, until he had outright asked Taehyung, “Hey, could I use your pockets? Seriously feels like I’ve got frostbite.” 

Taehyung had nodded mutely, putting his arms outwards so that Yoongi could push his hands inside of the white denim jacket.

He’d also glanced over at Seokjin and Jimin, both standing side by side just outside the scope of the camera setup. They’d looked as clueless as Taehyung had felt. 

Yoongi had stepped in closer, had asked, “Maybe if you held my hands, inside the pockets? Still feel like they’re shaking.” The whisper, of course, would be caught by their microphones. 

“I don’t think that’ll fit,” Taehyung had answered, a little uncertainly. 

Yoongi’s eyes had looked particularly pleading, his expression hadn’t changed until Taehyung had finally given in, squeezing his hands inside. He’d already liked Yoongi then, and the sudden attention in the middle of the cocktail party had been enthralling. Even with how strange Yoongi’s behaviour had been. Taehyung hadn’t regretted giving in, because Yoongi had immediately melted into a wide grin. 

And had slipped a piece of paper into his left hand. 

“I think that’ll do, thanks, Tae. I’ll see you around later.” 

That had been the first time. When it had been time to return the show’s wardrobe at the end of the night, Taehyung had transferred the piece of paper — actually, an extremely neat and light blue origami letter fold — to his own jeans’ back pocket. 

He’d been a little underdressed for the cocktail party, though he knew his favourite stylist, Hoseok, was only following the instructions Taehyung had given him from day one: loose, comfy, casual, earthy tones. In any event, without the pockets, he wouldn’t have received Yoongi’s first letter. 

Taehyung, 

What you said on the first night of filming really touched me. I think you’re amazing and really courageous. Coming out is never easy and trusting the staff, and us contestants too, with that is really huge. I’ve found the cameras, the lighting, the long hours for the shoots, to be stressful and a bit terrifying. I can only imagine how it all feels for you, getting to be yourself for the first time but with all this added glam and oversight. 

Tell me if I’m wrong, but it feels like you may like me. If you’re interested, I’d like to get to know you more. And, even if you’re not, I’m including my phone number for after this is all over. I don’t know what your support system is like back home, but I think it’s always nice to have other friends who are out and who go through similar things. If you’re struggling, if you want someone to talk to, or if you just want to be around someone who gets it, I’m happily volunteering. 

I’m glad I applied for this, because at the very least I will have met you, 

-Min Yoongi 

Taehyung and his entourage were the last ones back in the boardroom. Lenzo already gone, Yoongi conversing in hushed tones with Namjoon, who essentially already had one foot out the door, and Seokjin looking at Soo-Hyun’s phone from over her shoulder as she chatted with the new arrival: Hoseok. 

“Hoseok-hyung!” Taehyung exclaims, hurrying to his side and sharing a quick embrace. 

“There you are, Taetae! Scared you ran off with cold feet!” 

“Very funny.” Taehyung’s return seems to have kickstarted others into motion, Namjoon leaving the scene, Seokjin and Soo-Hyun swapping places as both Yoongi and Jimin take back their former seats. “Hyung, why are you here?” 

“You really got away with never reading your schedules for the entire season, huh?” Jimin pulls him by his sleeve then, bringing him closer to his seat. “Location, design, time of day, all kind of out of your hands, sorry, Heartbeat policy. But, as you know, our stylists really are a great team. That’s pretty much in your hands. Hoseok-ssi is here to discuss what you’d like for the ceremony.” 

Taehyung all but jumps into his seat, suddenly much more interested. From across him, Yoongi chuckles. His eyes form happy crescents, his smile large enough to show the perfectly pink shade of his gums; Taehyung thinks no one has ever looked as perfect. He immediately feels inspired, thinks of dozens of looks Yoongi could have for the wedding. He drags Jimin’s notebook over, starts scribbling a few of his ideas down. 

Jimin rolls his eyes, but at least there are no remaining traces of his worry. 

Hoseok takes a seat at the head of the table, kicks one leg up onto the additional chair that had been pulled there for Lenzo. Taehyung finds himself smiling at the movement, quickly forgets his stream of ideas and drops the pen onto the open notebook. 

“It’s just as jimin said, here to make you look your best for your special day. I’ve worked a lot with both of you throughout the season, and you both have your unique takes on fashion. I’m confident I can create great looks for the two of you, even if you have no input you want to give. Just in case you have ideas, preferences, anything really, now’s the chance for us to discuss as a team.”

Despite his relaxed posture and the way he’d kicked his leg up onto the chair to stretch for the duration of the meeting, Hoseok’s face and voice both indicate that he’s entered his professional mode. 

“Do you know what the location and decor and stuff like that will be like? Because like, imagine if we decide to go goth, but then it’s a garden wedding?” 

“Go goth?” Yoongi questions, looking unsure whether or not that was actually a look Taehyung may pitch. 

“Or if we’re dressed as pirates and then it’s in the mountains? We definitely need a view of the river if we’re pirates.” 

“Please stop.” 

“Tae, I’ve got all the info, don’t worry. It’ll be cohesive.” 

Under the table, Yoongi takes a hold of his hands. Taehyung only realizes then how tense he’d been feeling. He slides further down in his seat, clings to Yoongi’s hands gratefully. He hopes Jungkook won’t see from where he’s standing, won’t tease him for it on the ride back to the living quarters. 

“Anything works for me. I’ll wear whatever I’m given, as usual. Maybe nothing too flashy though? Definitely no glitz.” 

Yoongi never pulls his hands back, so Taehyung starts playing with his fingers, tracing every curve of his knuckles. He loves Yoongi’s hands, would love it if one day he could paint their shape by memory alone. 

“No, I think the audience would be much too shocked if you arrived in a sequin suit, I agree. Taehyung?” 

“Uh, I like Marchesa gowns?” Taehyung blurts out, thinking of late nights as a teen spent daydreaming as he clicked page after page of haute couture fashion. Eyes always lingering on the tulle dresses, light and flowing, the floral appliqués at times glittering, and at other times delicate organza. Beautiful, like Yoongi was. “But you know, a suit version, menswear…” 

Taehyung fidgets with Yoongi’s fingers, shy and anxious to hear Hoseok’s response. 

“Marchesa, huh? That’s kind of genius… would be like watching two nymphs get married.” 

“Nymphs? Wait, can we go back to speaking Korean please, what do you mean we’re going to look like nymphs?” 

Jimin muffles a laugh behind his hand, and Soo-Hyun leans against the back of Yoongi’s chair, showing him her phone screen, presumably with an example pulled from Naver.

“I mean, maybe more like elves, you know?” Taehyung tries to reassure him, squeezing his hands warmly. 

“No, this is way too pretty for me. I could see it suiting Tae, but…” 

“But no one in the audience knows that you recycle the same five shirts and literally have no skin care routine,” Seokjin completes playfully. 

The latter didn’t sound likely to Taehyung. He would easily describe Yoongi’s skin as dewy, make-up or not. The shirt comment, however, may have rung truer. Taehyung wonders whether Yoongi had only packed the bare necessities. If he had thought his stay on the show would be short, wouldn’t last for the entirety of the season. After all, any fallout with their selected partner resulted in a candidate’s departure from the show. Last Taehyung’s heard, there were only five couples going into this last week of filming. 

“And if we did this, we could just hold hands the whole time, because, like, why would we need bouquets? It’s like, we are the bouquets,” Taehyung adds with a dreamy sigh. 

“So like bouquets threw up all over us, charming.” 

Yoongi’s hands in his hint that Yoongi’s words belie his feelings. His thumbs are soft over the backs of Taehyung’s hands, like he’d particularly liked the suggestion of holding hands throughout the ceremony. 

When they’d first picked one another, numerous crew members had referred to them as the “hand-holding couple”. There had been a number of attempts to jumpstart their physical romance, Jimin practically begging Taehyung to try to kiss Yoongi, reminding him night after night that all other couples had already kissed for the camera, most in a decidedly steamy fashion. Still, it had taken a while for them to move past the point of holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. 

Taehyung is so focused on Yoongi’s hands that he can only nod along as Seokjin gestures to Yoongi’s hair, probably pitching ideas for their hairstyling. He can’t really make out Seokjin’s words. He moves his right thumb to the centre of Yoongi’s palm. 

Taehyung thinks of the way the sunlight had felt on the back of his neck just moments ago, the way Jungkook had spoken the words: How’s he even going to know you want to get married?

His grip is a little shakier when he starts tracing the letters with the pad of his thumb into Yoongi’s skin. 

P-l-e-a-s-e s-a-y y-e-s

Over and over like a mantra, even as the conversation continues and Taehyung completely loses track of it. 

Then, suddenly: 

“Yes! Hoseok, let’s go with this concept. I want us… to look like… flower nymphs?” 

Yoongi starts off confident, but then, as he keeps glancing over at Taehyung, slowly loses steam, words growing less sure. 

It’s not lost on Taehyung that it’s as Yoongi takes note of his confused expression that Yoongi’s eyebrows start growing closer together and his inflection turns questioning. Yoongi had been able to read Taehyung’s words, but he’d misunderstood Taehyung’s request anyway. 

Carefully, Taehyung pulls his hands away from Yoongi’s. Yoongi’s grip doesn’t tighten, he doesn’t try to keep Taehyung’s hands in his. He doesn’t reach back. His expression never smooths back out, stays confused as Taehyung takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah, let’s do something with tulle, and pastel colours, and flowers. I actually think it’ll really suit hyung, too. You know, he has the Snow White complexion, that’s already a good starter for a fairytale look.” 

His worries are right at the surface now. He doesn’t know when their filming date will be scheduled. Would he have time to draft the perfect words? Even if he did, would Yoongi understand? What if he misunderstood just like this, would Taehyung find the courage to clarify? 

Did Yoongi really want anything to do with him, as a couple, after filming ended? 

Even Soo-Hyun gives him a worried look, from where she’s still leaning against the back of Yoongi’s chair, eyes serious and sharp. Yoongi, however, has softened considerably, even smiles gently as he agrees for a second time. 

“Yeah, ok. I’m willing to dress up like that if it means I get to see Taehyung in a style he likes.” 

Taehyung smiles back. 

If Yoongi walks out, like he’s been asked to, would it hurt Taehyung less if he’s in his dream outfit? If everything around Taehyung is beautiful, would it be less humiliating? 

One of Taehyung’s favourite letters had come on the night they’d filmed the segment where the show hosts reveal who had picked who to date for the remainder of the season. This segment often represented the biggest cut of the season, candidates putting their blind trust in the hope that the person they chose would choose them back, and failing that having to leave the production altogether. 

Taehyung hadn’t questioned the name he’d written on his ballot, not once. Not even with Jimin giving him insider tips, confirming sure bets, candidates that had made it clear to their assigned producer that they would ask to be matched with Taehyung. 

Jieun had picked Yoongi. 

Honestly, Taehyung had been a little spooked. Had kept reminding himself that, at the very least, he had that impressive stack of letters and Yoongi’s number from the very first one. Yoongi wouldn’t disappear from his life completely. At worst — and it really wasn’t so bad — the show had brought him Yoongi’s friendship. 

Yoongi had picked Taehyung. 

The relief he had felt had been like an ocean, much greater than he could have foreseen, without an end in sight. He’d clung onto Yoongi’s hand gratefully after they’d been paired up, completely distracted by those feelings and unable to absorb the news of any other matched couples after them. 

He’d ridden back to his quarters with Jungkook, who’d insisted that his car was parked nearby — though it hadn’t been. As the staff member had driven off, Jungkook had raced Taehyung to the building door, then had triumphantly pulled out a yellow piece of paper, folded in a method that had become so preciously familiar to Taehyung. 

“What!” Taehyung had exclaimed, shocked, but already excitedly putting his hands out towards Jungkook. “I didn’t even leave his side once tonight… How are you two so sneaky?” 

Jungkook had handed the letter over promptly, then had nearly skipped down the stairs, ready to start a long trek across the compound to get to his car. 

“He gave it to me before we started shooting today. Like, nearly twelve hours ago. He couldn’t have known you’d pick him, right? Did you tell him in your last letter?” 

Taehyung had looked around, flustered and worried they would be overheard. 

“No! Come on, I’m not shameless. And they’re not like strategic letters, they’re…” 

“Love letters!” Jungkook had shouted back, moving farther and farther away from where Taehyung stood. “I get it! Let me know if he predicted you’d be together by the end of the night.”

Taehyung had sat in the steps leading to the front door, heart racing as he’d unfolded the letter. Frightened, as always, that he’d be caught redhanded with the correspondence. But mostly excited to add to his collection. 

It had been an unusual letter. Not addressed to Taehyung, not signed by Yoongi, and with barely anything written at all. Yet, Taehyung had understood it right away. 

The night before, Taehyung had asked him why he’d joined the show in the first place. Under the layers of screen makeup, the hot glare of the cinematic lighting, the gaze of the uncountable camera lenses, and the actual gaze of producers that were barely a couple of metres away from what should have been their romantic bubble. Yoongi had utterly struggled to spit out an answer, almost as if he had never watched the show before and couldn’t even muster up a typical, cookie-cutter answer. 

In the end, Seokjin had fed him the line, “Why don’t you say you signed up to find love?” and Yoongi had parroted it back; though not without stuttering. Taehyung had regretted asking and hoped the moment wouldn’t make it to broadcast. He hadn’t expected that Yoongi would struggle quite so much to answer. 

The note on the bright yellow paper was Yoongi’s belated, but carefully worded, answer. 

I feel lonely. I didn’t need any special talents to apply and it seemed like a big production. I figured I’d always be surrounded with people on set and that people would care about my whereabouts and what I have to say. That didn’t end up mattering so much, but I nearly always forget to feel lonely when I’m with you. I’ve never had to convince myself that you care about what I have to say. 

Taehyung had read the letter multiple times before pressing it to his chest. Maybe the words hadn’t been the epitome of romance, but they had held such untold weight that Taehyung couldn’t help but to feel they were incomparably significant. 

Vulnerable and unwaveringly truthful — and perhaps adoring in a sense — the letter had immediately become Taehyung’s favourite. 

“And I… I…” 

Taehyung forces his mind’s eye onto the written script, folded in half over his lap. He runs through the first four lines again. The fifth line, however, continues to elude him. He knows the sixth line, not the fifth. 

The makeup artist tips his chin further up and her presence is enough for Taehyung to stifle the curses that had been taking shape over his tongue. Not without frustration, he unfolds his written notes, his vows. His eyes find the fifth line immediately. He folds the paper again, takes a harsh, deep breath in; prepared to start over. 

A hand lands on Taehyung’s shoulder and he jolts, feels it when the artist’s brush goes too far up and onto his brow bone.

“Jimin!” she all but screeches.

Jimin quickly removes his hand. In the mirror, he looks bashfully apologetic. 

“Sorry, noona. I can fix it for you…?” 

She doesn’t take him up on the offer, ignores him altogether as she switches the brush out for a cotton swab. 

“What did you want?” Taehyung asks as he steals another peek at his script, still doubting that he’d retained the right wording for the fifth line. 

Jimin pulls up a chair. Taehyung can’t turn to properly look at him, but the view of his profile in the mirror lets him know Jimin is feeling serious. 

“Just thought I would check in with you.”

“Well, I’m busy.” 

He unfolds the paper yet again. The creases have grown deep, even though he’d only come up with this final draft on the previous day. His mind has been entirely occupied with the need to memorize every word just right. It’s been a great source of stress, as he hasn’t been able to rehearse the delivery. With filming starting in less than two hours, he knows he won’t get the chance. Not when he’s made so little progress in memorizing. 

“You know, I can hand you your notes before the vows. I know you don’t have any pockets, so…” 

“I said I’d hold his hands the whole time. Besides, I need to memorize this. Do you know how disingenuous I’ll look if I’m reading?” 

He blinks at his reflection, the makeup artist stepping away, seemingly pleased with his face for now, and leaving the spot for a hairstylist who proceeds to place Taehyung’s strands in just the right position. Taehyung doesn’t know why it’s necessary, especially when she steps in to pose the same action every ten minutes or so. Taehyung is tempted to ask her to just fix his hair at the very last moment, but decides against it. The last episode must be a stressful event for everyone in the crew. He’d even noticed that Jimin was a lot more soft-spoken than usual, more patient and gentle. Maybe he’s learned that tensions run high on set for the final shooting. 

“He’s used to you writing down your genuine feelings for him,” Jimin responds in a low whisper. It’s the first time Jimin has acknowledged the letters out loud and Taehyung glances back down at his paper in a fit of embarrassment. “I don’t think he’s going to think less of your words just because you took the time and care to write them down ahead of time.” 

“It looks messy. I shouldn’t have folded it this way.” Taehyung pauses. He needs to be careful. He can’t tear up with all the work they’ve put into his appearance for today. He wonders, suddenly, if the crew appeared stressed out because he was the one projecting his stress onto them. “It doesn’t matter anyway, right? Didn’t you say a few pretty words wouldn’t change his mind?” 

Jimin stands up. 

“Noona, Taehyung and I are going to go for a walk. If you want, you can all take a twenty-minute break.” 

The hairstylist looks around. Taehyung wonders if she’s looking for Hoseok, who had dressed Taehyung himself, clearly nervous about the fabric ripping. He’d made Taehyung thoroughly wash his hands beforehand, and had strictly forbidden him from eating before the shoot ended. Taehyung wishes he’d eaten this morning, despite his anxious stomach.

Taehyung is proven right when she hesitantly agrees, mentions, “He’s not allowed to sit anywhere but on this chair. If the skies darken, come back right away. And, please, stick to the beach? He shouldn’t be getting his feet dirty.” 

Jimin’s grabbed him by the elbow before he even gets the chance to agree. Nevertheless, he’s smiling, reminded that Hoseok had designed their looks to leave them barefooted — something he’d undoubtedly done with Taehyung in mind. He loves Hoseok’s creation, can’t imagine the number of hours he’d consecrated to it in such a small window of time. The top is entirely made of white tulle, sleeves loose, but tightened around his wrists with black ribbon. The detailing small black taffeta roses. The flowers are enough for him to feel like he’s dressed modestly, but his silhouette is still obvious behind the tulle. It’s the most of his body Yoongi will have seen though, and that does somewhat make him more nervous. 

The pants are more in line with what Taehyung has worn on the show previously, wide and loose white cotton and linen pants. He feels comfortable. He feels like the most beautiful version of himself. 

Yet, it’s only once outside that he feels as if he’s finally able to take a full breath in. 

“Come on, walk with me,” Jimin waves him over, already walking forward along the shore. 

Taehyung glances back, their tent setup right on the beach. He wonders where Yoongi’s is located. His own preparation tent is not far from the shoot’s location. He’d seen the aisle leading to the beach, already clustered with lighting equipment and camera crew alike. The tall grass surrounding the aisle is speckled with colourful flowers. If Yoongi is dressed in monochrome too, Taehyung thinks the effect will be as beautiful as he feels. 

Taehyung has to jog to catch up with Jimin. He’s still clutching the paper. 

“Are you going to help me rehearse the vows?” 

“Taehyung,” he starts off sternly, though he doesn’t glance over and doesn’t slow down his pace. “You have to shake this off, ok? You know the whole deal. It’s not going to be less stressful when it’s happening. You’ll have cameras up in your face, and people are going to cut you off and make you go again, or they’ll be retouching your clothes and makeup. Nothing about it is going to be intimate. Put a little more trust in your words, because that’s all you’ll have going for you.” 

Jimin’s words are so abrupt that Taehyung comes to a stop. Has to hurry his steps to catch up to Jimin a second time. 

“What are you saying then?” 

“To be honest, this is the last episode I’ll work on for Heartbeat. I’m leaving the show.” He finally comes to a stop, spins on his heel to face Taehyung. Perhaps he’d only been trying to get them away from anyone else related to the show to speak of this. “I’m sorry, Taehyung. It’s obvious you thought this was a safe space for you. I don’t blame you, it looks so accepting from the outside, right? But the truth is, they don’t treat people like us right. I mean, I knew from the previous seasons, but this one really pissed me off.” 

Taehyung’s not sure that he understands Jimin’s train of thought. He spreads his toes in the sand, looks out at the ocean. 

“I’m… ok? I mean, it sucks that hyung may walk out, but I met him. I have his number. It may work out. And, I don’t think they demonized me, right? You said people liked me…” 

“People love you,” Jimin offers with a sigh. There’s a moment of silence, but then Jimin clears his throat, waits for Taehyung to look at him again. “I spoke with Sunmi-ssi earlier on in the season.” 

“Sunmi?” 

“She was Jieun-ssi’s assigned producer.” Taehyung licks his lips nervously; that was a name he knew well, that he’d thought of often, especially earlier on in the show. “She was Yoongi-ssi’s most compatible match.” 

“Ah, well, yeah… I’m not surprised,” Taehyung offers, though he feels a little faint. Without meaning to, he starts imagining scenarios where Yoongi hadn’t only handed Taehyung letters, but had done the same for her. What if they were both still vying for Yoongi’s affections once this all came to an end? 

He puts his tongue back out, remembering that there were many more people that could be vying for Yoongi’s affections in a normal world setting, where they aren’t forced to interact in this kind of microcosm. 

“Yeah, well, did you know Yoon Lenzo was ecstatic that you liked each other? The pitch was that she would later find out that he was also interested in you. Then, they wanted her to reject Yoongi once he confesses he’s been with men, too.” Jimin rushes it all out with a sour expression, eyes not quite meeting Taehyung’s. “Apparently something similar happened on an American program. The media ate it up and there was a lot of buzz about it. So, that was the plan. To get a big dramatic scene over the fact that Yoongi is bi.” 

“What?” Taehyung manages, genuinely confused. 

“Yeah, so fuck Heartbeat. I thought there was no point going against production for this final episode, not like they can pull a bigoted storyline for Yoongi now, right? But, I don’t really know that for sure. And, honestly, you deserve better than that.” Without warning, Jimin grabs Taehyung’s hands and Taehyung nearly winces at the way the paper gets further crumpled by the movement. “Taehyung, you’re a great person. I want the audience to celebrate your happy ending. And I want you to leave here without fearing that your life will be empty. That you have my friendship from this point forward, and that you’ll have Yoongi’s companionship, too. So, fuck Heartbeat. Follow your heart, and give it your all with these vows.”  

“Friendship?” Taehyung repeats weakly, head spinning from the onslaught of information. 

The revelation of Yoongi’s planned storyline feels downright preposterous, but Jimin’s aura is undeniably serious. Jimin’s claim of friendship is something easier to cling to. It sounds similarly unlikely, Jimin’s whole demeanour unwaveringly professional throughout their relationship, and yet Taehyung finds himself believing that, too. 

“And Jungkook, too. He loves you. You’re not alone.”

Jimin lets go of his hands. Taehyung resists the urge to let go of the paper, to let it fly off in the gusts of winds that had suddenly picked up. 

“Ok,” Taehyung concedes. “Fuck Heartbeat.” 

Jimin laughs at that, it’s loud and free, very different from any laughter he’d heard from Jimin previously. He curls an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders, then redirects them towards the path back to the tent. 

“Come on, let’s give them a show they won’t forget.”

Their first date had been bungee jumping. Back at home, when following contestants’ storylines, Taehyung had always been curious about how dates were organized: how much input did contestants get? As it turns out, none. 

He hadn’t known that yet on their first date, production feeding him the lie that Yoongi had planned out the whole outing. Why wouldn’t Taehyung have bought it? Show protocol meant separate cars, interactions between them off-camera strictly forbidden. Yoongi had played the role well, explaining the date and the facilities without missing a beat once the cameras had rolled. The plan had been, jump into the abyss together, then enjoy a romantic picnic nearby. 

Taehyung had conceded that the scenery was fitting. The jump was located right where the Naerincheon and Hapgangcheon streams intersected. The meandering river and green mountain peaks were a lovely yet familiar sight. Diving right into that landscape, and then taking it all in during a romantic lunch, was of course a nice idea in concept. 

Production meeting for their second date had been their first combined meeting, with both Taehyung and Yoongi’s teams present. During that meeting, Namjoon had plainly told them what their next date would be. On camera, Taehyung had presented the date as if it had been his own thinking. 

The point stood that he hadn’t known for their first date. With a cold fear spreading through his chest, he’d thought of the innumerable dates he had watched at home on Heartbeat, where one half of the pair had faced their fears to do an extreme activity with the other. Without fail, the couple would claim they’d been brought closer by the experience, the fearless counterpart singing praises for their date’s courage and beautiful character. 

It had been with those memories that Taehyung had pushed through the safety lesson at the site, had adorned the gear, had marched all the way to the edge. They’d been supposed to jump together, hand in hand. 

Until Taehyung had pulled Yoongi back from the edge. 

“Hyung… do we have to jump? Couldn’t we just… walk along the river? Eat together? No jumping?” 

His stomach had felt like it was tearing itself apart, the expectation that he’d deeply disappointed Yoongi sinking his mood far down. 

Taehyung had felt like he’d put so much hope into Yoongi picking him back, and finally it had happened, but now he was throwing it away because of a silly fear. 

“Wait, no, forget it. Let’s jump,” he had added in a rush, trying to pull Yoongi back forward. He’d nearly bumped into Jungkook in that movement, who’d just shot him a wide-eyed stare from over his camera in response. 

Yoongi hadn’t moved forward, had even let go of his hand. Taehyung’s stomach, impossibly, had torn itself further apart. 

“Let’s not jump,” Yoongi had proposed, without emotion. 

“No, no! No, let’s jump. I’m so sorry, hyung. I’m not trying to ruin our date. I just got scared for a second, but I can do this. I can definitely do this for you.” 

Yoongi had looked unimpressed. A moment later, he’d broken into an easy smile.

“Actually, I hate this sort of stuff. It’s just an unnecessary risk.” 

Taehyung looked over the edge, felt his muscles seize in a panic, then stepped back. The fear felt more significant than the guilt from hearing Yoongi lie for his benefit. 

“You don’t have to say that…” 

“Well, thought I might mention it, since I thought you were the one who liked this extreme sport stuff. That’s what I assumed when production recommended this.” 

“Yoongi,” Seokjin let out in a scolding tone, not too far behind the pair. 

Taehyung had watched avidly as Yoongi’s teeth had sunken down into his bottom lip. He had the habit of bringing up what production said behind the scenes in front of the cameras, something Seokjin never failed to pick up on.

“I don’t like it,” Taehyung admitted, voice uselessly lowered. “I’m going to pull a muscle or something. It’s going to hurt, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode.” 

“And I’ve got a bad shoulder,” Yoongi added, voice just as low. “So, yeah. Let’s walk along the river.” 

Taehyung had glanced over at Jimin, who’d been wearing the expression of a man watching a terrible car crash happen in slow motion. 

“But I think they want us to jump…” Taehyung insisted, even though he already felt the warm rush of relief throughout his body.

“They can jump if they want. Pretty sure I’m not contractually obligated to go bungee jumping when my date is terrified.” 

He wanted to protest the description, but found he was much more interested in the way Yoongi smiled at him, comforting and warm. And so, they ended up walking along the river, dipping their toes in the water as they watched strangers leap off the structure. The crew had clearly been unhappy with the turn of events. 

Up until then, Taehyung had done as he wished, ignoring Jimin’s sage advice over and over again. This had been his first time going against producers’ wishes with someone else. Based on how unaffected Yoongi had looked, he’d known it would be the first of many. 

Yoongi is Taehyung’s perfect match. Dressed in black tulle, his sleeves billow out and hide away his hands. No ribbon around his wrists, not like Taehyung, instead there is a white ribbon forming a perfect bow around his neck, just before the high collar of the top. His floral appliqués are white to Taehyung’s black. His pants fitted much tighter than Taehyung’s. They’ve been styled like they’re each other’s perfect match, the most compatible pair casted. 

He’d nearly forgotten about the rings they’d chosen, up until they were sliding them on. That had been yet another moment where they’d received strange looks from crew members. Because they hadn’t selected anything close to expensive, had chosen something quite cheap, really. Simple bands. Yoongi wore the one made out of onyx, Taehyung the one made out of moonstone. He supposes it’s obvious when looking at the rings why Hoseok had opted for a monochrome palette.

“What I’m saying is — ”

“Taehyung, could you please speak up?” 

If he keeps breathing through his nose like this, he’s going to faint. He’s so worked up by now, absolutely irritated at being cut off at every sentence he tries to get out. Yoongi hasn’t said a word since he’s started the vows. It’s been nearly half an hour of Taehyung attempting to deliver them. Today, his number one enemy is the wind, growing increasingly in force to the sound team’s great dismay. 

The whole ordeal is humiliating. He’s counted at least nine cameras, ready to catch every angle of the drama Heartbeat’s already orchestrated for them. Yoongi’s features look beautiful under the professional lighting. But, his appearance also looks unnatural, like he’s a cutout that’s been stuck onto the grey mood of the beach as the wind picks up, the storm churns in the background. Like they’re stuck in this artificial bubble that Taehyung just wants to burst out from. He wants to lead Yoongi away from all these unfamiliar faces, wants to walk with him along the ocean’s shore until everything starts feeling real again.

He can’t. He needs to say all of this. Even though he can’t find a flow, not when he’s constantly being interrupted. Even though he’s not sure whether Yoongi can catch the words, what with the wind whipping against their faces. Even though he’s still struggling to remember the words in the perfectly right order. 

“What I’m saying is that I feel more like myself when I’m with you than when I’m not,” Taehyung tries again, injecting as much confidence as he can into his words despite the trembling of his hands. “And that the moment we met, I already felt like I knew you, too. Uh, not just you, but like, the core of you?” 

He licks his lips slowly, waits a beat in case there’s another interruption. He’s not disappointed. 

“That’s good, Taehyung,” Namjoon calls out. He’s dressed in a caramel-coloured rain jacket. Though Taehyung had felt the most beautiful he’d felt in life yet in his groom’s outfit just hours ago, he longs to swap styles with Namjoon now, to find refuge in a jacket just like that one. “The desperation is a nice touch, you can play that up.” 

Namjoon sounds patient, like he doesn’t mind if it takes two hours for Taehyung to spit the entirety of his vows out. Taehyung would wager that Namjoon already knows it’ll be cut down through editing to something like thirty to forty seconds. So, yes, he can appreciate that Namjoon is a gentle, encouraging presence on set. That the words would feel much worse from someone like Yoon Lenzo. Still, the words sting. A slap in Taehyung’s face. Because he’s not playing any part, and even if it is a desperate attempt, he doesn’t want Yoongi to perceive it as such. 

He continues with significantly less confidence left to infuse into his words. 

“I know there’s still a lot we haven’t learned about each other, or even experienced together. Even really simple, normal things. But I know none of that could change the way I feel. I know I can only keep loving you more.” 

He rushes through the last sentence and, sure enough, a crew member asks him to repeat it; slower this time. Another breath through his nose. His hands feel slippery in Yoongi’s hold. The lights are too bright, and he’s starting to feel lightheaded. He wants to ask Jimin for a drink of water, but he knows he can’t start interrupting his vows the way everyone else has been.

Well, everyone else, but not Yoongi. Not up until that very moment. He breaks their eye contact, speaks unusually loud, “Could we just cut the cameras? For like a minute? Literally just a one-minute break?” 

Taehyung tries to pull his hands back, but Yoongi’s only reaction is to squeeze them more firmly. 

“Sorry, boss. You know Heartbeat policy.” Soo-Hyun’s voice reveals who Yoongi had spoken to, because Taehyung refuses to look away from Yoongi’s profile. From this close, Taehyung easily notices the details of his makeup, his naturally ink black lashes curled to widen his eyes, the blush painted high on his cheeks. The expression he wears now though doesn’t match his delicate features. He’s clearly displeased by Soo-Hyun’s answer. “Not allowed to stop rolling until shooting’s over,” she further clarifies, as if hoping it would change Yoongi’s expression. 

Yoongi’s expression changes, but only to grow harsher. He all but rips his hands away. He’s so quick that Taehyung doesn’t have time to feel hurt. Yoongi’s already moved on from ripping his microphone off from where it was hidden amongst the white appliqués. In a move that spoke to months of practice, he lets the mic drop down the back of his blouse, then unhooks the mic pack from his pants. 

“Are you leaving?” Taehyung breathes out, feeling gutted. He joins his own hands together, seeking the comfort Yoongi had been providing up until that moment. 

He regrets the words immediately, can imagine the sound clip being played on every episode preview, warning fans of their relationship’s inevitable demise. 

Yoongi’s look doesn’t soften. 

“Do you need help taking yours off?” 

“What?” 

“So we can talk for one god damned minute in private.” Yoongi’s head turns again, once more Taehyung doesn’t bother to follow his line of vision. “I get it, if the point is catching every minute of a developing relationship. But this is ridiculous. Does it seem normal to you that two people can never speak just the two of them, not even once, before deciding to get married?”  

It’s not typical of Yoongi to get worked up, to have such an outburst, so Taehyung finds himself finally looking away from him to observe the scene. It’s a mixed bag of reactions, as if the crew were trying to figure out whether this was part of Yoongi’s planned act to walk off the set or if it was a genuine reaction to the circumstances. Taehyung is trying to work that out himself, too. 

Yoongi heaves out a dramatic, aggravated sigh when no one dares to respond, and starts working Taehyung’s microphone off, too. 

He’s much too focused on trying to figure out Yoongi’s behaviour to make a sound or to even lift a finger to help Yoongi remove the sound equipment. However, it’s hard not to notice the way Yoongi drops their mic packs into the sand, so carelessly. So unlike his usual self, who worked hard not to be difficult on set and to accommodate employees as much as possible. Now, he practically bulldozes someone from the camera crew over when he drags Taehyung by the wrist, away from their makeshift wedding alley and towards the sea. 

Taehyung looks back, then quickly looks forward and hurries his pace, practically starts dragging Yoongi instead. On television, it had been so easy to think of contestants as hysterical when they pushed cameras off and cried out for the cameras to leave them alone. Maybe for the first time, Taehyung is left speechless at how inescapable their filming crew feels. Their contractual promise to keep the tape rolling at all times on set now feeling more like the bars of a cage as they advance behind them. 

When Yoongi stops at the shore, the camera crew keeps moving. It’s slower going, manoeuvring wires and such, but Jungkook steadily heads the pack towards them. Taehyung fears that Yoongi’s one-minute request is too tall of an order. 

“You want to talk?” Taehyung quickly confirms, grabbing Yoongi’s hands once more. 

Yoongi’s “yes” rings a little tortured. 

“Ok.” 

Things had started feeling a little more like reality once they had stepped out of the production lighting, but when he spins them around so that his back is to the ocean and takes a further step back, reality becomes as biting as the cold waves licking at his calves. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Well, they’re not going to follow us into the water, right? With equipment like that?” 

Yoongi relinquishes, but is quite vocal about the water’s temperature as they move further and further away from the shore. Taehyung only stops when Yoongi lets out a particularly violent hiss when they’ve sunken down to their groin area. Taehyung is cold too, but the sensation of being in water makes him feel so much more alive. 

He does have a passing, apologetic thought for Hoseok and the labour of love he’d put into their outfits, now imbued with saltwater. 

Yoongi seems to understand that they’re not going farther and that they are safely away from the crew now, even with his back to them. Taehyung watches over Yoongi’s shoulder, Jungkook still has his camera pointed at them, but Taehyung can’t imagine the crew capturing any sound like this.

“You want us to get married?” 

“What do you think?”

A non-answer. 

He’s so disappointed by his own answer that he nearly lets go of Yoongi’s hands. Only, he’s afraid to find out whether the world would feel more or less real if he did. 

“Well,” Yoongi starts off softly, tone understanding. “I didn’t know if you wanted to get married today, anyway.”

“I know it’s quick, but sometimes love is like that. It happens, and it’s not because we’re on a reality TV show and — ”

Yoongi interrupts him, but it’s gentle.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just like... Look around us. Yeah, we look great and all. But, the only people here are just doing their jobs. Ok, I really like hyung and Soo-Hyun, I’d consider inviting them, but it’s not like it’s a joyous occasion right now. They’re in the middle of their work day.” Even as the cold chill of the water settles in his legs and crawls upwards towards his stomach, Yoongi’s hands feel so warm. Like Taehyung’s reaching his hands out, palms first, towards a fire-pit. “Is this how you’d want to get married?”

The words feel less lofty than before. A contrast to the reigning atmosphere. In these garments, Taehyung feels like he’s made out of chiffon. Even with the water imbuing the fabric of who he is, he still feels light and transparent, barely there at all. Yoongi’s words, however, are weighed. They land in Taehyung’s heart heavily, albeit clumsily. 

“Well, maybe it’s not really ideal.” He shuts his eyes, forgetting the staff, still in sight, forgetting the words he’d poured his soul into crafting and then remembering. “Maybe, everyone you love could be there. Your family, your friends. And... if people still love me, they could be there, too.”

“Tae,” Yoongi breathes out with the exact same tremble that had affected Taehyung’s voice just then. 

He pushes on. 

“And maybe we could get married abroad? Even if it wouldn’t change anything for us, I just think that it would be nice to actually have a marriage certificate, right? And there would actually be cake. And we would eat together, not in our separate production tents while we wait for things to be set up — not that I managed to eat anything today, but yeah... Yeah, maybe that would be more ideal.”

Taehyung opens his eyes and immediately meets Yoongi’s. He looks like there's a lot on his mind, but he only says, “Then let’s do that one day. We don’t need to do it this way.”

That brings things sharply back into focus. He resists the urge to just sink down into a crouching position, hide away in the water until he’s made peace with the fact that he’s failed. That Yoongi really won’t accept to marry him just based off of his vows. He doesn’t know why that’s his reaction, not when Yoongi’s more or less promised him the wedding that he wants instead. That doesn’t keep him from feeling utterly defeated. 

“Please marry me.”

He’s not above begging. The plea, however, only earns him a confused look from Yoongi.

“I will.”

Yoongi sounds like he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Taehyung can’t exactly put his finger on why it isn’t what he wants to hear, what he needs. 

“Why not today?”

“Because... of everything we said?”

“But I don’t know if you’ll marry me later.” The words surprise even Taehyung, though they don’t feel untrue. “I don’t know if you’ll be done with me when this is done. This might be my last chance to win you over. And if you walk away, then... I haven’t. Right? It will be so much easier for you to leave me behind if that’s what everyone thinks you already did.”

Because Taehyung doesn’t necessarily want Yoongi to marry him today. He wants them to have a future. And at some point, he’d subconsciously convinced himself that achieving the former would guarantee the latter. 

Yoongi lets go and Taehyung doesn’t know if the scenery feels more or less fabricated after all. It doesn’t matter though, because soon that backdrop falls away. Yoongi grasps the back of his neck and pulls him in until their foreheads are pressed together. Taehyung wants to shut his eyes, but it feels like such a luxury to be in such close proximity to Yoongi. He drinks up the sight of his features, from this particular angle, shadowed by the way they’re leaning against one another.

“You said love can be quick sometimes?” Taehyung nods. “Ok, well. I don’t really know if I believe in that. But still, I love you already, this quickly. And I know you’re worried about who will be there for you after. But there’s at least me. If you’re worried about whether there’ll be anyone who loves you at our wedding, know that, there too, there’s at least me. And anyone who cares about me will care about you, too.”

There’s nowhere to hide in this position. He doesn’t know what his expression looks like from up this close. Will it transparently colour with Taehyung’s fears and aching? Will it show how much Taehyung longs to have Yoongi’s hand in his when he walks back into the world, finally as himself? 

“Ok. Let’s go back now. I’m right on the verge of tears, so I can bring out the waterworks as soon as you leave me at the altar.”

Yoongi looks at him like he’s not quite making sense. Yet, he pulls away, leads the way back to the shore without another word. Taehyung’s movements feel sluggish in the water. Despite Yoongi’s evidently strong feelings for him, Taehyung still tastes the bitter defeat on the back of his tongue. He concentrates on how good it’ll feel to really cry it out in a few minutes. Afterwards, he’ll get a blanket from the staff, he can change out of these wet pants and then wrap himself up in the blanket. Maybe Jimin and Jungkook will cheer him up. 

The cameras all flock to them as they step back onto the beach, as if they’re celebrities stepping out from hiding and into the light of day. Taehyung doesn’t expect a full scene then and there, expects Yoongi to lead them back to the designated alley where production had planned for Taehyung to be turned down. 

Instead, Yoongi announces, “We’re leaving.”

At first, nothing happens. The legs of Taehyung’s pants now stick to his thighs; the complete opposite effect of the loose style Hoseok always prepared for him. The wind blows hard, and Taehyung imagines that if this moment is ever aired the subtitles will be included. He looks around, finds his mic pack in Jimin’s hands. He wonders if he should ask Yoongi to help him put it back on, seek out that last touch of physical intimacy before Yoongi walks out for good. 

He takes the first step towards Jimin, but then Yoongi’s hand shoots out to wrap around his elbow. The hold would be easy to shrug off, barely there at all, but Taehyung pauses, waits. Yoongi says nothing, until the first sign of questioning, when he visibly reaches boiling point. 

It’s Seokjin who asks, “How do you mean?”

Yoongi launches into what could be the start of a monologue, eyes not really set on Seokjin, instead fluttering from face to face of the staff surrounding them.

“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time or get any of you in trouble. So, let’s just get to it. Taehyung? Will you take me as your husband?”

Yoongi doesn’t look his way, so it takes him a moment to understand that he’s been prompted for an answer. 

It’s almost instinct for Taehyung to blurt out a soft “I do.”

“And now,” Yoongi continues, words uncharacteristically dramatic. “I walk out. So technically, we’ve done exactly as Yoon Lenzo instructed.”

“You’re walking out with Taehyung,” Jimin clarifies, actually smiling with the words. 

Taehyung feels his lips part in surprise. He hadn’t understood it that way, but Yoongi doesn’t react similarly. His shoulders rise, maybe a little defensively, but his face doesn’t show a trace of surprise or denial. 

“I get it, you know? You’re trying to make an entertaining show. We’re not actors though. You’re asking us to play ourselves. And that’s... that’s more than us being puppets. Taehyung’s come here specifically to be himself, no other agenda, no claim to fame, no desire for the limelight, just wanting everyone to see him as himself. So what? Your plan’s to knock him down?

“It’s obvious that he actually likes me, no? Loves me? Is it that much of a challenge to let people who give away months of their life for your project to be happy? So, yeah. We’re walking out together. We don’t want this stupid reality TV wedding. We’ll get married on our own terms. So, yes. Thank you for your hard work, but... but that’s all from us.”

Yoongi’s speech doesn’t end with the roar Taehyung might have expected, maybe with more of a whimper, his good manners forcing him to utter quick thanks to the staff. His hand had never left Taehyung’s elbow, and Taehyung had felt the way his fingers twitched and trembled throughout his impassioned response. 

Even though it’s Yoongi who pulls him along, Taehyung keeps step with Yoongi as they walk away. He lets his eyes linger over the most familiar faces out of the crew. Jimin looks genuinely happy. Seokjin doesn’t give anything away, his stance and expression both firm and closed-off, though not cold or hostile. And though Soo-Hyun was still following protocol and ghosted after them with her camera, Jungkook has pulled back from his camera. Taehyung doesn’t look long enough to fully comprehend the expression he’s wearing. 

They’re still bare-footed, pants still soaked through, full screen makeup still on, when they climb into Yoongi’s planned getaway car. When the car door shuts, leaving Soo-Hyun behind, who doesn’t manage to keep an excited giggle from bubbling out, Taehyung still doesn’t feel like he’s escaped the scene. 

As always, the cars that led contestants away from the show were well equipped with cameras fixed here and there, ready to capture a contestant's every mood as they walked away from the show, ready to accept any confession the departing contestant was ready to share. 

Their designated driver gives no reaction to the fact that it’s not just Yoongi in the backseat, but Taehyung guesses he must be used to production's twists and turns. 

Even with this new set of cameras staring straight at them, Taehyung takes the seat in the middle, so that he can wrap his arms around Yoongi as they drive off. He doesn’t know what the rest of the day will look like. They were staying in different parts of the compound. By the time they’d gathered their belongings, would they be forbidden from leaving together? Would picking up their things give enough time for a barrage of lawyers to come down upon them and force them back to the filming location, shoot the right, expected take this time? 

Yoongi turns his head, and with the way Taehyung’s chin had been resting on his shoulder, all that’s needed is a slight tilt of Taehyung’s head for Yoongi to brush his lips against his ear. The whisper is tender, and without their mic packs on, Taehyung even dreams that these words can be theirs to keep alone. 

“Thank you for choosing me out of the crowd.” The words are slightly tinged with an insecurity Taehyung had never heard before. “I’m not the best at standing out, but thank you for seeing me. I feel really lucky.”

Taehyung squeezes Yoongi’s waist a little harder, he’s ready to whisper back, even though when he turns his head, Yoongi doesn’t offer him his ear, just stares at him intensely, refusing to tilt his head away. 

Taehyung doesn’t notice it right away, but when he does he can’t stop focusing on it. He can’t help but to smile. That weight on his chest, the voice that followed after him, the anxiety at the back of his mind of what is coming next, is gone. In its place, only the warm comfort Yoongi’s so effortlessly good at providing. 

He mulls Yoongi’s words over, until his heart is racing with them. He juxtaposes them with every letter he’s read from Yoongi, over and over. That lonesomeness Yoongi had sometimes only hinted at, that desire to come to the show if only to be around other people who would have to care about his presence. Then, acknowledges that Yoongi had felt like someone who’d stood out, who deserved to be picked out of the crowd, only because Taehyung had seen him, noticed him for who he was. The same way Taehyung wanted to be seen and had been seen in return.

“I’m here,” he finally answers, with simplicity. “The wedding may be postponed, but I’ll be by your side. And, well... You don’t have to be different from who you are to get me to stay, ok?”

Taehyung had forgotten to continue whispering by the end of it. But, maybe that didn’t really matter, not with the way Yoongi kissed him soundly, with a soft kind of desperation Taehyung had never tasted before. 

“Together, no matter what’s next,” Yoongi whispers after several moments and several kisses. 

For the very first time, Taehyung thinks of the after, and thinks he may very well survive the worst case scenario. He’s been ready this whole time for this: to come back to his life as himself. But with Yoongi on his side, just as fearlessly himself as he is, his breathing remains steady. He’s ready, but he’s also ready for any consequences that may follow.