They had grown.
Not just in fame or skill or shoulders so broad they couldn't fit in old clothes anymore.
But in silence. In healing. In the spaces between scandals, heartbreak, and their own stubborn egos.
Sayuri came and went.
Celine left a scar that softened.
The world pulled them in all directions—locked in shoots in Mexico, endless hours on set, solo deals, sleepless red-eye flights.
But somehow—they always found their way back to each other.
Now?
Now they were just three dorks again.
Sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of Jungkook's penthouse, with open beers in hand. A late summer night wraps Seoul in warm breezes and the faint hum of city life below.
It was their week-long military break.
And they chose to spend it like this.
With each other.
And with everyone who mattered.
Ivory, barefoot and glowing, was animatedly discussing philosophy with Jimin's old therapist, now a university professor with a nose piercing and a laugh that could disarm a navy general.
Yoongi's two-year-old, a bundle of giggles, was zig-zagging across the patio while his DJ girlfriend chased him with a juice box.
Taehyung?
Still single. Still smug.
Still, the walking Roman statue of chaos incarnate.
Jungkook laughed as Taehyung tried to fit through the balcony door sideways, failing miserably.
"You need to stop working out," Jimin snorted. "You look like you could punch a truck into orbit."
"I like being strong," Tae replied, flipping his hair like a shampoo model. "You never know when I'll need to carry your dramatic ass off a stage."
The three burst out laughing, nearly spilling their drinks.
There were no cameras here.
No fans.
No scripts.
Just them.
Battered, loved, grown—but still them.
Jungkook leaned back, sipping his beer. His tattoos had finally formed a full sleeve now, visible beneath his rolled-up shirt.
"I used to think we'd fall apart," he murmured. "That one day, it'd all just... stop."
Jimin glanced sideways. "We did fall apart. A few times."
Taehyung grinned. "But we stitched each other back together."
They clinked their bottles in the air. A silent toast.
To brotherhood.
To mistakes.
To rising again.
To the Trinity.
Always chaotic.
Always dorks.
But always, always—home.
Jungkook let out a chuckle, unprovoked.
Taehyung blinked. "What's so funny?"
Jungkook took a slow sip of beer, eyes twinkling. "You remember... the Dumpling War?"
There was a half-second of silence.
Then Jimin exploded. "OH MY GOD— I knew you'd bring that up!"
Taehyung dramatically rolled his eyes. "Hyung. I was literally dying. Starving. I needed dumplings to live."
Jimin, already animated from the beer, flailed one hand. "You weren't dying, you brat! We had a performance the next day, and you were lounging like a sea otter on the studio floor—stuffing your mouth while I was breaking my spine trying to nail that chorus step!"
"It was a choreography from hell!" Jimin added with wide eyes, as if re-living the trauma. "And there he was—mid-count—'one, two, three, four' CHOMP."
Jungkook burst into laughter, nearly choking on his drink.
"You don't understand," Taehyung cut in seriously. "If I didn't eat at that exact moment, my body would've collapsed. I was doing it for survival. For the team."
"Survival my ass!" Jimin barked. "You were eating pork and kimchi dumplings like it was a mukbang episode! I smelled them more than I heard the music!"
"Oh my god," Jungkook wheezed. "I remember trying not to laugh because Hobi hyung was yelling at us."
"RIGHT?!" Jimin pointed triumphantly at him. "And when Hobi hyung asked why I looked like I was about to commit murder—"
"—You screamed, 'HE'S EATING DUMPLINGS WHILE WE'RE DYING,'" Tae finished with a grin.
Taehyung still crossed his arms. "And I stand by it. I was hungry. I dance better with dumplings in my system. Science."
"You dance like a flipping coat rack on dumplings," Jimin shot back.
"Hey, coat racks are elegant."
They all burst into laughter again. The kind that hurt the stomach and fed the soul.
Jungkook wiped a tear. "We were idiots. But damn, we were happy."
Still are, he thought quietly.
Somehow, after everything.
From across the rooftop, Ivory called out, "What are you guys yelling about?"
"DUMPLINGS!" all three chorused.
She blinked. "...You know what? I don't want to know."
The chaos, the banter, the warmth—it all echoed under the Seoul night sky, proof that even fame and time couldn't erase the rhythm of family built on sweat, tears, and a never-ending dumpling debate.
"Wait. I just remembered. Tae, do you still walk through cabinet mirrors?" Jimin barely asked as he laughed at the memory.
[FLASHBACK]
It was 3:17 a.m.
Jimin was on the hotel bed, phone in hand, face red from laughing. Jungkook, also swaying on his feet, was poking a motionless Taehyung on the floor with his toe.
"Taehyung," Jungkook slurred. "Yah. You can't sleep on the ground. Get up. Be a man."
Taehyung groaned, rolled over like a sea lion, and sat up with the grace of a broken puppet. "I need to go back to my room."
"This is your room," Jimin wheezed behind the camera.
But Taehyung stood, patted his pockets, nodded solemnly, then walked to the cabinet, confidently grabbed the mirrored door—and opened it like it was Narnia.
He stepped inside. Clunk. His shoulder hit wood. He squinted.
"Why... is the hallway so small?" he asked seriously.
Jungkook screamed. Jimin fell off the bed laughing. The sound of both hitting the floor echoed like a war crime.
Taehyung poked the inside of the cabinet, muttering, "Why are the walls closing in?"
Scene 2: Jungkook vs. Betrayal by Slippers
A week later. Seoul streets. 2 a.m. They were still high on club beats and way too many tequila shots.
Jungkook, holding his slides in one hand, declared like a soldier, "They're fine. Just need to fix the strap."
"You ripped them in half," Jimin pointed out, filming again.
"They're Gucci. They'll forgive me."
He put them on. Took a bold step.
SLIP. SMACK.
Jungkook went down like a sack of wet laundry. Face first. The sound was so loud.
Jimin and Taehyung screamed, falling beside him on the pavement from sheer laughter. Cars honked. A cat bolted.
"ARE YOU OKAY?" Jimin yelled between cackles.
Jungkook raised one arm from the ground, groaning. "It's... the slippers' fault."
The Next Morning
Makeup Noonas were livid.
"What. The hell. Happened to your face!?"
Jungkook blinked with a split eyebrow and a bruised cheek. "Gravity."
"No, seriously."
Jimin, from the corner, whispered, "It was the Gucci slides. They were vengeful."
"Next time, try adidas slides, they grip more."
The Goat Incident
It started with a few beers. Then tequila. Then someone shouted "Just one more round!" like it wasn't already 2:45 a.m.
Now it was past 4 a.m.
And somehow—somehow—Jimin had a goat.
A real, breathing, mildly confused baby goat cradled in his arms like it had come from his womb.
Jungkook's phone camera was shaking as he filmed, trying to walk straight while capturing the scene. "Bro. Bro. Where the hell did you get a goat?"
Jimin, sitting cross-legged on the penthouse floor, was wrapped in a blanket, his hair a mess, eyes dazed, whispering sweet nothings to the goat's floppy ears.
"I don't know," he slurred, "it just... appeared. Like magic. Look at its eyes. It chose me."
"You brought it inside!" Jungkook cried, laughing uncontrollably behind the lens. "You were crying about how it looked cold and you called it—what? What was its name?"
Jimin sniffed, rocking the goat. "I named him Latte. Because he's soft and warm and I love him."
Taehyung appeared from the hallway, shirtless, rubbing his eyes. "Why is there a goat in the kitchen?"
"Shhh, he's sleeping."
"He's literally chewing your collar, Jimin."
Cut to: present day.
[On the rooftop, present time.]
The three of them sat with beer cans, the city lights glittering below. Ivory and the others were laughing somewhere inside. But up here, the Trinity was in their element—talking trash, memories, and regrets soaked in alcohol and time.
"I still have that video," Jungkook grinned.
"No, you don't," Jimin said, already giggling.
Jungkook pulled out his phone. A few taps. A few scrolls. "There. The masterpiece."
They leaned in, watching the clip.
Drunk Jimin on screen: "He needs formula. We gotta go. Where's the 24-hour mart? My baby's hungry."
The rooftop howled in laughter. Jungkook rolled onto the floor. Taehyung spat his beer.
"You tried to put a baby diaper on it!" Jungkook wheezed.
"I HAVE NO MEMORY OF THIS!" Jimin cried, red in the face, clutching his stomach.
"I do," Taehyung deadpanned. "You asked me to check if goat milk is recyclable."
To this day, no one knows where the goat came from.
Latte was returned to a very confused farmer the next morning with an apology letter and a selfie.
And in Jungkook's phone, the video is titled:
"Jimin: Father of the Goat."
The laughter had settled into warm chuckles, the kind that fill the space between long-time friends who had truly been through it all—fights, fame, and goats.
Jungkook took a swig of beer, then suddenly froze mid-sip, a slow grin creeping onto his face.
"Wait—do you guys remember... the speaker?"
Taehyung's brows furrowed. "What speaker?"
Jimin sat up. "Oh my God—THE SPEAKER."
"YES!" Jungkook nearly choked on his drink. "The one Tae got at that night market! He said it was 'limited edition' and 'a steal' because it was 50% off!"
Taehyung blinked, realization hitting him like a truck. "It was a steal. I got robbed."
Jungkook was already halfway doubled over, mimicking the robotic voice.
"Ze Bluetooths zewise iz connected... uh... SUK-SESS-FULLEY."
He broke into snorts.
Jimin howled. "Bro. That thing sounded like it was dying."
"It kept glitching!" Jungkook gasped. "Every time he played music, it would randomly say 'DIS-CONNECT-ED' in the middle of the chorus."
"Or scream at full volume when no one touched it!" Jimin added. "I swear it said 'Charging complete' in the middle of the night once. Woke me up like a horror movie."
Taehyung groaned into his hands. "I was so proud too... I showed everyone. I even took a picture of it on my story with the caption 'My new baby.'"
"And it looked like a humidifier," Jungkook said, wiping tears from his eyes. "You got scammed so hard."
They were in stitches all over again—rolling, wheezing, holding their stomachs, beer forgotten on the floor.
Jungkook wasn't done though. He stood up, raised his imaginary speaker to the air, cleared his throat, and in his best broken, robotic accent said:
"Zee... Bluetooth... izz now... connected, oh sexy boi~"
Jimin fell flat on the bench. Taehyung threw his beer can across the rooftop.
The night went on. They laughed like kids again—unburdened, unapologetically unhinged.
The city lights watched them quietly.
The chaos never left them.
On Jimin's private Instagram — followed only by close friends, Taehyung, Jungkook, and a surprisingly fast handful of detective-level fans — there exists a highlight titled "📁: Crimes of Alcohol."
What began as a spontaneous rooftop night spiraled into chaos so profound, it became digital folklore. Reposted thousands of times by fan accounts, dissected frame-by-frame like FBI footage, and once nominated (as a joke) for "Best Short Form Reality Content" at a social media awards show — it cemented The Trinity as the most unhinged idol trio in K-pop history.
No one was safe. Not Dior slides. Not Jimin's liver. Not a random baby goat.
And it all lives forever, one blurry IG story at a time.
📁 IG Story Highlight: "Crimes of Alcohol 🍷"[Story 1: Jimin POV | Title Slide]
🖤 "The Trinity: Crimes of Alcohol – Vol. 1"
🎶 ['Do It Like That' by TXT & Jonas Brothers playing]
Text: "We regret everything. But also nothing."
[Story 2: Jeju Villa Night]
📸: Blurry selfie of the three, eyes half-open.
Jungkook is wearing goggles inside. Taehyung has a banana taped to his shirt. Jimin is holding a bottle of rosé and crying.
Caption:
"He said the rosé tasted like heartbreak. Bro it's ₩9,000."
[Story 3: Karaoke Chaos]
📹: Video of Taehyung SCREAMING the bridge of "Creep" by Radiohead.
Jungkook stands on the table slow dancing with a chair. Jimin is in the corner beatboxing.
Caption:
"We are NOT okay."
[Story 4: Morning After Texts]
📷: Screenshot of their group chat.
Jungkook:
who tf put a baguette in the rice cooker
Taehyung:
bro it's called innovation stay mad
Jimin:
someone tell me why i have a pigeon feather in my pocket
[Story 5: Dramatic Black Screen]
🖤 Background music: "Love In The Dark" by Adele
Text overlay:
"Jungkook got banned from 7-Eleven for hugging the fridge and whispering 'you're the only one who's cool to me.'"
[Story 6: CCTV Screenshot]
📸: Low-res image from a store camera.
Taehyung is dancing in front of the ramen aisle. Jungkook is on the floor. Jimin is trying to bribe the cashier with gummy worms.
Caption:
"They should've arrested us for fashion crimes too tbh."
[Story 7: Emotional Closure Slide]
📸: The three of them passed out in a pile on a hotel bed.
Overlay text:
"If we die, bury us in matching fits."
💬 Location tag: "Somewhere in Busan, probably"
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The night had melted into that quiet, sacred stillness only known to cities at 3 a.m.—when even the chaos starts to yawn. The rooftop was quiet now. Beer cans half-drunk, the remnants of laughter still clinging to the air like perfume. One by one, they'd peeled off—Jungkook with Ivory inside, Jimin heading toward his parked car with a final wink and a "Call me if you see a goat again."
Taehyung stood alone for a moment longer, the cold nipping at his skin through his oversized hoodie. His vape was missing, probably flung over the ledge during Jungkook's Bluetooth monologue. He huffed a laugh.
With long, slow strides, he walked toward the nearest convenience store, just a corner away from Jungkook's building. Neon lights hummed low above the entrance, casting an artificial glow that made everything look a little dreamlike.
He stepped out minutes later, pack of cigarettes in hand, when—
"BOO!"
A scream. Not just any scream. A full-on, high-pitched shriek from Taehyung—the 6ft tall, doorframe-breaking, baritone-voiced Taehyung—who jumped back a full step.
"What the—" he gasped.
A girl. Slight. Mischievous eyes. Laughing so hard she nearly folded in half.
"Oh my God—I'm so sorry! I thought you were my friend! You're even wearing the same hoodie!"
Taehyung blinked. "What kind of friend screams at 3 a.m.?"
Two more girls appeared behind her, blinking in confusion.
"She did it again?" one of them groaned.
"Classic Lily," the other muttered. Then her eyes widened. "Wait. Isn't that—?"
"Holy sh—" the first girl whispered. "That's Taehyung. One of The Trinity."
Lily stood up, brushing off her pants. "Sorry. I don't get the hype."
She snatched the cigarette pack off the pavement and handed it to him. "Here. Peace offering." She pulled one out, handed it to him casually. "No hard feelings, Gorgeous."
Taehyung blinked again. Then laughed.
One of the friends leaned in, apologetic. "She has an issue with handsome men. It's like... a thing."
"Lily, stop being a menace," the other scolded.
But Lily just shrugged. "You scared easy for a guy built like a tank."
Taehyung laughed harder now, tucking the cigarette behind his ear. "You scared me. At 3 a.m. In a hoodie. I'm allowed to scream."
She smirked. "Fair."
They posed for a photo—Lily still looking smug, Taehyung wide-grinned, eyes twinkling from the surprise encounter.
What he didn't know was that this wasn't going to be a one-time chaos moment.
It was the first of many.
THE END.