TWO

"The party!" Jungkook shot upright from his nap, startling Jimin so badly that he fumbled his teacup.

"What in the world, Jungkook?!" Jimin yelped, jumping back as hot tea spilled all over his lap. "Do you live to stress me out?"

"Is the emperor coming to the party?" Jungkook asked urgently, completely ignoring the mess.

Jimin froze, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Maybe? How would I know? I'm not his personal assistant!"

"If he's coming, I can meet him," Jungkook muttered, mostly to himself.

Jimin squinted, the suspicion in his eyes sharp enough to cut through steel. "You-you said you didn't want to go. You said you wanted to rest. And now you want to meet the emperor? Are you messing with me, or has your head injury finally scrambled your brain completely?"

"I've changed my mind," Jungkook replied, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up like he was ready to march to the emperor that second.

Jimin crossed his arms, blocking his path. "Kookie, this isn't like you. First, you act like you want to hide from the world, and now you're suddenly... this. What's going on? You can tell me, you know."

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze darting away. "It's... I just want to meet him. That's all."

"Hmm." Jimin didn't look convinced, but he let it go with a long sigh. "Well, if you're really going, we've got bigger problems to deal with. The party is tomorrow, and we need to sort out what you're wearing. God knows you're not showing up looking like a disaster."

"Okay, hyung," Jungkook said, nodding. "What do I wear?"

Jimin motioned for him to follow. "Let's start with your wardrobe. Pray there's something salvageable in there."

They reached Jungkook's wardrobe, and the moment Jimin threw open the doors, Jungkook's face fell. It was worse than he imagined.

The entire wardrobe was stuffed with obnoxiously garish clothes-deep greens and purples in fabrics that were far too shiny for their own good. Everything was embellished with way too many jewels, tassels, and embroidery. It was like the villain of a bad play had raided a costume shop and then gone blind halfway through picking.

"Ew." The word slipped out before Jungkook could stop himself.

Jimin turned, raising an eyebrow. "Ew? What?"

Jungkook gestured wildly at the offending wardrobe. "These clothes! What are these colors? What kind of person thought this was okay?"

Jimin's mouth fell open. "Wait a minute... Did the fall cure your bad taste in fashion?"

"Ha, ha," Jungkook said dryly. "Very funny. But seriously, I'm not wearing any of this. I hate them all."

"Well, someone's picky today." Jimin stepped closer to the wardrobe, squinting at the rows of gaudy outfits. After a moment, he sighed, muttering, "Okay, fine. These are... not great. But what did you expect? You've always had-how do I put this kindly-the worst fashion sense."

"Hyung!" Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. But hey, if you really want to impress the emperor, I guess we're going shopping. Again."

"Great," Jungkook muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Because spending hours trying on clothes is exactly how I wanted to spend my day."

"Oh, quit whining," Jimin said with a grin, already grabbing his coat. "You should be thanking me. Do you want the emperor to think you're colorblind? No, you do not."

Jungkook sighed, following Jimin out of the room. As much as he hated to admit it, Jimin was probably right. If he was going to face the emperor tomorrow, he'd need to look good-really good. And if anyone could make that happen, it was Jimin.

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"How much longer, hyung?" Jungkook groaned, shifting uncomfortably in the slow-moving carriage.

"Why are you so impatient today?" Jimin shot back, crossing his arms.

Jungkook had no idea transportation in this world could be this slow. Back home, half a mile in a car would've taken no time at all. But here? Carriages dragged on forever, rattling and bumping over uneven cobblestones. Worse, there was no phone to scroll through to kill time.

He leaned his head back with a sigh, staring at the wooden ceiling of the carriage. His thoughts wandered. What had happened in the Netflix shows he hadn't finished? What had happened to Love Quinn in 'You'? God, he'd give anything to binge-watch Netflix on his couch again.

Sure, there wasn't much waiting for him back home-just his lonely apartment and his equally lonely life-but even that was better than dying here because the emperor decided he didn't like him.

What if he could change the storyline? Maybe if he avoided his villainous fate, the universe would send him back. And if this world had magic, maybe some wizard or sorcerer could help him return to his own world. But who could he even talk to about something so insane?

They'd think he was mad-if they didn't already. After all, he had hit his head recently. Would they put him in an asylum? Did asylums even exist here? The thought made his stomach twist.

"Jungkookie, you're zoning out," Yoongi's calm voice pulled him from his spiral.

Jungkook blinked, realizing Jimin had been talking this entire time. The silence that followed was almost deafening as Jimin turned to him with a sharp glare.

"You weren't listening to me?" Jimin demanded, his tone somewhere between annoyed and offended.

"Sorry," Jungkook mumbled, rubbing his temple. "My head just hurts."

Jimin's expression softened immediately, concern replacing his irritation. "Jungkook, you don't have to go to the party if you're still recovering. No one's forcing you."

"I know, but-"

"But what?" Jimin pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Jungkook hesitated, biting his lip. But I don't want to die, he thought grimly. "Nothing, hyung. I just don't want to be stuck in that room anymore."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze cutting straight through Jungkook. "Why do you want to meet the emperor so suddenly?"

Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. "Because he's my fiancé. What else?" he said quickly, forcing his voice to stay even.

"I thought you didn't remember much about him," Yoongi said, leaning back in his seat, his tone deliberately casual but his eyes still piercing.

Was Yoongi catching on? Jungkook's palms grew sweaty. "I do... but it's hazy," he lied, hoping his voice sounded natural.

"Yoongi, don't patronize the child," Jimin cut in with a huff, giving Yoongi a pointed look. "He's already been through enough without you grilling him."

"I wasn't grilling him," Yoongi replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just curious."

"Well, stop being curious. Jungkookie's health comes first," Jimin snapped, before turning back to Jungkook with a soft smile. "Don't let him stress you out, okay? If you're not up for the party, I'll happily take you back."

"I'm fine, hyung," Jungkook assured, though his mind was still racing. He had to get through this party. This might be his only shot to meet the emperor and set his plan in motion.

The rest of the ride continued in tense silence, with Jungkook trying not to dwell on Yoongi's knowing gaze.

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"Madam Choi!" Jimin greeted warmly as they stepped into the luxurious clothing boutique, the air scented faintly of lavender and freshly pressed fabrics.

"Good morning to my favorite nobles," replied Choi Seoyun, her voice smooth and welcoming. She turned to Jungkook, her sharp eyes immediately softening with concern. "And how are you, Jungkook? I heard you've been bedridden."

Choi Seoyun was a woman in her early thirties, exuding elegance with her every movement. Her dark hair was pinned in an intricate style, and her outfit-a silk dress adorned with delicate embroidery-perfectly reflected her position as the boutique's owner and a connoisseur of fine taste.

"I'm better now, Madam Choi," Jungkook said, bowing slightly, though his mind was already racing.

"Good to hear." Her warm smile widened, though her sharp gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, as if she could sense the turmoil he was masking.

"Jungkook here is in desperate need of new outfits," Jimin said with an exaggerated sigh, gesturing toward him. "We have a party tomorrow, and, well, his wardrobe just isn't doing him any favors."

"Of course," Seoyun said, giving Jungkook a quick once-over. Her eyes gleamed with understanding. "I think I already know what you're looking for."

She led them up the polished wooden staircase to the boutique's top floor, reserved exclusively for nobles. The room itself was a work of art-golden accents on the ceiling, plush carpets underfoot, and racks of elaborately designed clothing.

"Wait here," Seoyun said with a nod, disappearing into the back to fetch her selections.

Jungkook took a deep breath, his eyes wandering over the racks of clothing. Please don't let it be green or purple, he thought.

Moments later, Seoyun returned, arms laden with robes in-you guessed it-ugly greens and purples. Jungkook's face instantly fell.

"Ah, no," Jimin said, laughing nervously. "Jungkook doesn't like those anymore. His tastes have... matured."

Seoyun raised an eyebrow but didn't seem surprised. "Good," she said briskly. "I always thought those colors were all wrong for you anyway."

Jungkook blinked. "You... did?"

"Of course," she replied with a knowing smile. "They made you look like you were trying too hard. But don't worry, darling-I know exactly what you need." She gestured for him to follow her into the fitting room.

Jungkook hesitated but complied, letting her guide him. He wasn't sure what to expect, but anything had to be better than that.

When he emerged, the room fell completely silent.

Jimin's teacup slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor. Yoongi, usually composed, stared with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Jungkook asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Is it too much?"

"Too much?" Jimin finally spluttered. "Jungkook, you-"

"You look stunning," Yoongi finished, his voice unusually soft, almost reverent.

Jungkook shifted awkwardly under their gazes, tugging at the hem of the intricate outfit. He glanced at his reflection in the nearby mirror and nearly did a double-take.

The transformation was undeniable. The white high-collared blouse he wore was adorned with delicate embroidery, the puffed sleeves and structured corset-like waist giving him an effortlessly regal silhouette. A black shoulder drape embroidered in gold rested elegantly over one side, adding an air of authority. His black fitted pants were paired with an asymmetrical sheer skirt that cascaded like a waterfall, tied at the waist with chain accents.

The chains and metallic embellishments shimmered subtly under the light, giving the ensemble a modern, almost militaristic edge. Even his knee-high boots, patterned with intricate golden designs, felt like something out of a royal fantasy novel.

"I-" Jungkook started, but his voice faltered. "It's... different."

"Different?" Jimin gasped. "Different? Jungkookie, you look like you stepped out of a painting. You're gorgeous."

"Fit for royalty," Yoongi murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

Seoyun beamed, clearly pleased with her work. "I knew this would suit you. You're meant to shine, Jungkook, not blend into the background with those garish colors. Now, you're impossible to ignore."

Jungkook shifted awkwardly again, his cheeks warming. "Thank you, Madam Choi. It's... perfect."

"It's more than perfect," Jimin said firmly, turning to Seoyun. "We'll take it. And a hundred more outfits in a similar style."

"Hundred?" Jungkook choked, his eyes widening.

"Don't be dramatic," Jimin said, waving him off. "You can never have too many good outfits, especially now that you've decided to stop dressing like a villain."

"Hyung," Jungkook groaned, but his lips twitched despite himself.

"Trust me, little spark," Jimin said, patting his shoulder. "You're going to turn heads tomorrow."

Let's hope one of those heads belongs to the emperor, Jungkook thought grimly, glancing back at his reflection.