Author’s Note

Hi, everyone! ♡

Thank you for giving After Midnight a chance.

This story is about unexpected feelings, late-night conversations, secrets, and two people who never planned to fall for each other.

I hope you enjoy watching Y/N and JK’s story unfold, chapter by chapter. There will be misunderstandings, jealousy, emotional moments, and plenty of tension along the way. 🤍

Thank you for reading, supporting, and staying with this story until the end.

Now… let’s see what happens After Midnight. 🌙

— Hidden Author

The fluorescent lights of the conference room hummed with a low, sterile buzz that grated against Y/N’s already frayed nerves. She smoothed the front of her blouse for the third time in as many minutes, the fabric cool under her fingertips, but the gesture did nothing to quell the tightness coiling in her stomach. This was it. The first day on the project that could make or break her career. She wasn’t just walking into a new office; she was stepping into the lion’s den, working directly with the most famous group in the industry. She adjusted her posture, lifting her chin. She wouldn’t be the starstruck intern. She wouldn’t be the trembling fangirl. She was a professional, and she would prove she deserved to be at that table by the sheer force of her competence.

The door clicked open, and the members of the group began to filter in, shedding the aura of global superstars for the casual, chaotic energy of a work team.

Namjoon entered first, his expression calm and authoritative. He extended a hand as he approached her, his grip firm and dry. "Welcome," he said, his voice steady, cutting through the ambient noise of the room. "We appreciate you jumping in on such short notice. We run things a bit loosely here, but the goal is always quality. Don't hesitate to speak up if you have a different perspective."

"Thank you," Y/N replied, her voice level, though she gripped the edge of her chair until her knuckles turned white. "I’m ready to get started."

Before she could exhale, a laugh bubbled from the corner of the room. Jin dropped into the seat opposite her, his eyes crinkling as he took in her rigid posture. "Whoa, relax," he teased, leaning back with a grin that was all teeth and mischief. "You look like you’re about to face a firing squad, not a brainstorming session. We don't bite. Usually."

Y/N felt a flush climb up her neck, but she forced her face to remain neutral. "Just want to make sure I start off on the right foot," she said, her tone clipped.

Jhope, sitting next to Jin, reached over to pat her arm lightly, his touch gentle. "Don't mind him. He’s an idiot," Jhope said softly, his eyes warm and reassuring. "We’re all glad to have the help. It’s been a crazy few months."

From the other side of the table, Jimin leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "I looked at your portfolio earlier," he said, his tone shifting to genuine curiosity. "Your layout work on the Seoul campaign was sharp. How did you manage the color grading on those night shots?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by the specific reference. She relaxed her shoulders by a fraction. "It was a nightmare with the lighting," she admitted, the technical details providing a safe harbor. "I used a gradient map to desaturate the shadows and then pumped the luminance in the blues to create that neon contrast without losing detail."

Jimin nodded appreciatively, opening his mouth to ask a follow-up, but a movement in the periphery drew Y/N’s eye. Tae hadn’t said a word. He sat slightly apart from the others, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t hostile either. He was observing, dissecting, perhaps looking for the cracks in her composure—the tell-tale signs that she was overwhelmed by their proximity. She met his gaze for a split second before looking away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

YN, who had been quietly organizing notes near the head of the table, glanced at Y/N. She noticed the slight tremor in Y/N’s hand as she reached for her pen. YN didn’t say anything, but her brow furrowed slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the pressure radiating off the new hire.

Then, the door swung open again, banging against the stopper.

Jungkook breezed in, a half-empty coffee cup in one hand and his jacket thrown over his shoulder. He looked disheveled, his hair messy and his shirt untucked at the hem. "Sorry I'm late," he mumbled, not sounding particularly sorry as he slumped into the empty chair next to Y/N. He dropped his jacket onto the table with a soft thud and turned his head, his eyes sweeping over her.

"So," he started, taking a loud sip of his drink. "You the new staff?"

Y/N stiffened. The smell of expensive cologne and stale coffee wafted off him. "Yes," she said, keeping her eyes on her notebook. "I’m Y/N."

Jungkook leaned back, stretching his arms out over the back of his chair, his fingers brushing dangerously close to her shoulder. He looked her up and down, a lazy, assessing smirk playing on his lips. "Cool. Good to have some fresh blood around. Hopefully, you can keep up with the pace. It’s a lot harder than school projects, you know."

The words hung in the air, heavy and dripping with unspoken assumption.

Y/N’s pen stopped moving. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto his face. The hum of the lights seemed to grow louder. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook blinked, the smirk faltering slightly. "I just meant... the workload. It’s intense."

"You said 'school projects,'" Y/N corrected him, her voice dropping an octave, sharpening into a weapon. "I’ve been working in the industry for six years, Mr. JK. I didn't walk out of a classroom yesterday. I know what a deadline looks like."

A hush fell over the room. Jin stopped laughing. Jhope looked down at the table. Tae’s eyes darted between them, a flicker of interest sparking in his gaze.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his posture shifting from lazy to defensive. "Okay, easy. I was just making conversation. No need to get your panties in a twist."

"And I don't need to be patronized by someone who shows up twenty minutes late holding a cold latte," Y/N shot back, snapping her notebook shut. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. "I’m here to work, not to play games."

She stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. "I’ll review the brief and send my notes by morning. Excuse me."

She didn’t wait for a response. She turned on her heel and walked out, her spine rigid, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Behind her, she heard a low chuckle—Jin, maybe—but she didn't look back.

Jungkook watched her go, his eyes tracing the line of her back, the sway of her hips as she stormed out. He swirled the dregs of his coffee, a slow, thoughtful grin spreading across his face. "Feisty," he muttered to himself, taking one last sip before setting the cup down.

Hours later, the building was a skeleton of its daytime self. The cleaning crew had already passed through the main corridors, the scent of lemon polish hanging in the still, cool air. Y/N stood in the lobby, tapping her foot against the marble floor. She reached into her bag for her phone to check the time, but her fingers brushed against empty leather where her portfolio folder should have been.

She froze. "Shit."

The presentation deck. The hard copies. The annotated briefs. She’d left them on the conference table in her haste to escape that smug, arrogant prick’s face.

Cursing under her breath, she turned and marched back toward the elevators. She couldn't leave them there. If the cleaning crew tossed them, or if certain members decided to use them as coasters, she was screwed.

The hallways were dim, illuminated only by the safety lights glowing green along the floorboards. The silence was heavy, broken only by the click of her heels. When she reached the conference room door, she found it slightly ajar, a slice of yellow light cutting through the darkness of the hallway.

She pushed the door open.

The room was empty, save for one figure.

Jungkook was sitting at the head of the table, exactly where she had left her documents. He was alone, the glow of his laptop screen illuminating his sharp features. He looked up as she entered, his expression unreadable in the low light.

Y/N stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn't expected him to still be here.

Jungkook didn’t speak. He simply reached out to the stack of papers next to his laptop. He picked up the folder, holding it up by one corner. The light caught the sheen of the plastic cover.

"You forgot something," he said. His voice was lower now, stripped of the playful teasing from earlier. It was rough, vibrating in the quiet space.

Y/N stepped forward, her legs feeling heavy. She walked to the table, her eyes never leaving his. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his as she took the folder. His hand was warm, his skin rough against hers. A jolt of static electricity snapped between them, tiny and sharp.

"Thanks," she muttered, clutching the folder to her chest like a shield. She turned to leave, desperate to escape the sudden, suffocating tension that seemed to fill the room.

"Wait."

She paused, her hand on the doorknob. She didn't turn around.

Jungkook swiveled his chair, the leather squeaking softly. He looked at her silhouette, framed by the hallway lights. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself so tightly, ready to snap.

He smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips that didn't reach his eyes.

"You still hate me?" he asked.

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Y/N’s grip on the doorknob tightened until her knuckles turned white. She froze, the words catching in her throat, her body betraying her as a flush of heat—unwanted and undeniable—rushed through her veins.

Thank you for reading Chapter 1! 🤍

If you enjoyed it, stay tuned… things are only getting started. 🌙

See you in the next chapter!