The city looked prettier after midnight. Not because it changed—but because everyone else disappeared.

Streetlights bled amber across Taehyung’s windshield, empty intersections cycling through red and green with no cars to stop for. His seat was reclined farther than it should’ve been, windows cracked just enough to let the cool night air drift in, carrying the scent of wet pavement and cigarette smoke.

A burnt-out roach rested between his fingers.

He’d forgotten it was there.

Spotify shuffled quietly in the background as he mindlessly flicked through Instagram stories. Buyers had been blowing up his phone all night asking if he was active, but none of them interested him enough to reply.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Then—

@jimin • 4h ago

Taehyung pressed play.

Loud music. Flashing lights. Jimin laughing into the camera before taking a drag from a blunt and passing it off-screen. Some random guy accepted it.

Typical party. He almost skipped.

Then the camera panned left. Jeongguk.

For barely three seconds.

He sat perched on the arm of a couch, oversized black hoodie slipping off one shoulder, tattooed forearm resting on his knee. A blunt hung lazily between his fingers. His cheeks were pink, eyes heavy and unmistakably red. He looked up at Jimin with one slow blink before smiling—that small, sleepy smile Taehyung had only seen whenever Jeongguk was comfortably high.

The story ended.

Taehyung replayed it.

Then again.

His thumb paused on Jeongguk’s face.

His jaw tightened.

Weeks ago, when Taehyung texted Jeongguk if he was going to buy, the latter responded:

“but no i’m not buying 😿 i don’t have the funds right now”

Without thinking, Taehyung had offered him some for free.

Something he’d never done for anyone.

Jeongguk had still refused.

“i’ll hit u up when i have the mula okayyyyyy?”

“now go to sleep it’s late 😾”

Taehyung looked back at the paused story.

The blunt. The smoke.

Where’d you get that?

His phone was already in his hand.