The Elevator of Destiny”

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the glass walls of the Crystal Mirage Hotel in Dubai.

The air smelled faintly of coffee and cologne as Jungkook, RM, and Jimin stepped into the golden elevator, heading down to the parking lot for their schedule.

Jungkook leaned against the glass mirror, half-lost in thought.

“Hyung,” he said quietly, “what if… she was here? What if Ana Kim was standing right in front of me, and I didn’t even know?”

RM smirked. “Then the universe would be playing tricks on you, Jungkook.”

The elevator beeped softly and stopped on the next floor.

The doors slid open.

And there she was.

Ana Kim.

She stepped in like a storm wrapped in silence — wearing a black crop top, joggers, and a dark green jacket. Her hair tied in a messy bun, glasses covering her eyes, phone in hand, scrolling through emails as if the world around her didn’t exist.

Behind her walked a tall, handsome Russian bodyguard, carrying her handbag and laptop bag, his sharp jawline and disciplined stride matching her power perfectly. Beside him, her assistant, clutching a tablet nervously.

The elevator air turned cold.

Jungkook’s heartbeat stopped.

Even without looking, he knew. It was her — the same phone, the same color, the same aura that froze every soul nearby.

Jungkook looked down at his own hand. He froze. He was holding the exact same model of phone, in the exact same limited-edition midnight-titanium color. A small, frantic hope sparked in his chest—a digital connection in a world of stone.

He couldn’t breathe.

Her voice, calm but commanding, broke the silence — in Korean.

“Mr. Han, I want this hotel decorated — and the pool too. I don’t know when or who will do it, but I want it done tonight.”

The assistant blinked in panic. “B-but ma’am, it’s impossible to—”

Ana slowly turned her head. Her hazel-green eyes peeked over her glasses, and one look was enough.

The assistant swallowed hard. “Y-yes ma’am. I’ll get it done immediately.”

Ana turned back to her phone, tapping swiftly. “Good. Make it elegant — with an Indian wedding vibe.”

The elevator stopped at the parking level.

The bodyguard stepped out first, scanning the area like a hawk, then opened the door to her black Lamborghini Huracán, polished like a mirror.

Ana walked out gracefully — no rush, no hesitation. The world seemed to bend around her.

As she passed Jungkook, her perfume — cool jasmine and smoke — lingered in the air.

She didn’t even glance at him.

But he couldn’t look away.

"She’s redecorating a whole hotel just because she felt like it," Jimin whispered, eyes wide. "And she speaks Korean like a native."

And when the bodyguard handed her bag into the car, Jungkook’s jaw tightened. His stomach twisted with an emotion he didn’t recognize — jealousy.

RM noticed his glare and smirked. “You’re jealous of her bodyguard now?”

Jungkook didn’t answer. He just kept watching as Ana sat in her car, the door closing softly.

The Lamborghini roared to life, the sound vibrating through the parking lot. She pulled out, her convoy following — the black fleet gliding away like a queen’s shadow.

Jungkook whispered under his breath,

> “Even her car listens to her voice… how am I supposed to compete with that?”

Jimin chuckled. “Maybe you don’t have to compete, Jungkook. Maybe destiny’s already driving you toward her.”

As the elevator doors closed again, Jungkook stared at the reflection of himself — and the faint ghost of her image behind him.

He didn’t know it yet…

But that was the moment their fates truly locked.

...----------------...

The Night of Lights and Laughter”

The night sky over Dubai shimmered like a sea of stars. The Crystal Mirage Hotel glowed with gold fairy-lights and cascades of red roses; soft Indian music drifted through the marble corridors.

BTS stepped out of their van, eyes widening at the transformation.

J-Hope whistled. “Whoa… was this the same hotel this morning? It looks like a movie set!”

Their manager chuckled, checking his phone. “Apparently, there’s a wedding here tonight. A billionaire family rented out the entire floor.”

The boys entered the underground parking, still in their suits, waiting for the elevator. The air smelled of jasmine, incense, and luxury perfume.

Then—

A burst of laughter echoed through the garage.

They turned.

Running through the line of luxury cars came Kim Saba, wearing a breathtaking gold-and-peach lehenga sparkling under the lights, barefoot, holding a pair of men’s shoes high above her head. Her bangles jingled, her hair loose, laughter echoing like music.

Behind her, several men in wedding sherwanis chased after her, shouting playfully.

“Yah, Saba! Give me my shoes back!” one yelled.

Saba giggled, spinning around. “First, give me money! Then you get your shoes!”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, heartbeat quickening. Taehyung forgot to breathe.

Saba’s laughter filled the whole parking lot — carefree, childlike. Then another figure appeared behind her — walking calmly, her black lehenga shimmering under the lights like midnight silk.

Ana Kim.

She wasn’t running — she didn’t need to. The world moved for her. Her hazel-green eyes glowed softly under the chandeliers as she watched her sister with faint amusement.

“Saba,” Ana called out, her voice smooth as velvet, “don’t run too fast.”

Saba laughed louder. “Come on, Ana! It’s fun!”

Eera caught the shoe mid-air as Saba tossed it toward her. “Eera, run! Don’t let them take it!”

Eera dashed the other way, giggling as the men groaned.

RM leaned toward Jin, whispering, “It’s an Indian wedding ritual — the sisters steal the groom’s shoes for money.”

Jin grinned. “I love this chaos.”

Then, suddenly, Saba tripped — her heel caught in her lehenga. She gasped and fell lightly onto the red carpet.

Ana instantly ran to her, gathering her skirt in one hand. Her calm mask cracked for a moment, eyes full of worry.

“I told you not to run,” Ana said, half-angry, half-relieved. “Gravity loves you too much.”

Saba pouted, laughing even as she winced. “You sound like Mom.”

Ana sighed, helping her up, brushing dust from her dress. “And you act like a five-year-old billionaire.”

The crowd burst into laughter. Even the men chasing her stopped, smiling.

From across the parking lot, BTS watched the scene — seven idols frozen, captivated.

Jungkook’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. She looked different tonight — softer, laughing slightly as she scolded her sister, her black lehenga swirling like smoke.

Taehyung, beside him, was completely still — eyes locked on Saba’s smile.

J-Hope whispered, “Hyung… destiny’s working overtime tonight.”

RM smiled faintly. “Maybe it’s not destiny, Hope. Maybe it’s the beginning.”

As laughter echoed around them — flowers, lights, and music blending into one — both Jungkook and Taehyung knew this night would be the one their hearts would never forget.

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