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Taehyung's POV

I keep the saxophone on the table while fixing my glasses and staring back at the bunch of students in front of me.

My rolled-up sleeves, beige pink shirt with three buttons undone showing my toffee-coloured tanned skin, and black fitted trousers with the Gucci gold chain dangling on my neck and not to forget about the Gucci shoes that I grabbed the other day from their limited collection.

The girls were drooling at the sight and if I say that I'm disgusted by this would be a lie. I enjoy the attention, duh. As someone who is blessed with beauty and charm, it would be a waste to not show off. Some of the boys were mesmerized. Maybe by my performance, or by my appearance. But I dislike them all.

"Spanish Saxophonist, Pedro Iturralde's showpiece, Pequeña Czarda is a favorite in saxophone repertoire." I begin and continue, "Its fast passages, virtuosic cadenza, and overall accelerando build throughout the piece makes it very fun to play, and puts the saxophone right in center stage.

Iturralde wrote Pequeña Czarda when he was just 20 years old, back in 1949, and has arrangements for saxophone and piano, saxophone and orchestra, and saxophone and wind band."

They look at me with big eyes and I look at them with a straight face. I came here to give them a lecture about the famous musical pieces in the jazz music world.

After two long hours, I exit the classroom and walk towards the staff room as I see the annoying principal of this school approach me. I want to beat his bald head like a drum and spin him like a spinner.

"Mr. Kim, thank you so much for this day. I'm so glad that you came to share your knowledge with the students here. They are so blessed! We are so blessed!" He thanks me, bowing to me with a grin.

He stands up straight and I flash him a small smile, shaking my head. "It's alright, Mr. Shin. You should thank Jungkook for convincing me. Or else I would've never attended." I say, rolling my eyes at the mention of his name. 

"Oh, yes. He is an amazing professor here! The best faculty here. Since you just came here after his one request, you both must be really close friends." He says and I give him a tight-lipped smile. I nod my head and answer. "Yes, Jungkook and I have been really good friends for 8 years now. We are really close."

--------------------------------

"Tell him I said thanks," Jungkook says cocikly to Jimin without looking at me. Jimin gives me an awkward smile and I roll my eyes, not focused on Jungkook either. "Tell him I said you're welcome," I reply.

"Tell him I said okay."

"Tell him I said hmm."

"Okay, Okay. Let's drink." Jimin says, getting the glasses from the table in our private lounge and passing it to Jungkook and then one to me. I roll my eyes and take it from him. 

Jungkook and I have never been on good terms after Y/n left. He hates me and guess what? I hate him back. Jimin occasionally visits my club with Jungkook and we have a few drinks together. That's it.

"Are you still searching for Y/n?" Jimin asks. I look at him blankly. "Taehyung, you visited 13 countries already for three years after finally getting a clue after continuous searching for 5 years. Still not found. Just give up." He says and I drink more to that.

"Three years ago, I saw a painting by someone named SinCity and I am sure that is her. She is a really famous painter but no one knows her in person. She held various exhibitions and I made countless number of purchases of her artwork to trace her address. But all of them were just exhibition addresses. I tried to search for the address from where the paintings came from but still it was from different places everytime." I say and hear Jimin sigh.

"Are you sure it's her?" He asks and I stare at him. "I know it's her. SinCity is Y/n."

"What if she's just traveling the whole world, painting and holding exhibits? What if it's not even her—"

"Enough, Jimin! Let's go to the dance floor." Jungkook says, pulling Jimin up. He obeys and passes me a small smile. I roll my eyes back and whip my hand away to tell him to go. He walks away. I throw my head back on the couch and close my eyes.

Italy, USA, Russia, Turkey, Brazil, Malaysia, New Zealand, London, Ghana, and I even forgot the rest. I traveled so many countries for the last few years after I found a clue about her but she's still not with me.

I even asked my secretary to send her personal emails and messages to reach her but still no reply. I even hired hackers to trace her, still no use.

Just gone from my life.

It's all my fault. I can't even blame anyone when everything is because of me. I'm the root cause of it all.

My thoughts get interrupted when I feel something on my chest. I shoot my eyes open and bend my face straight to the girl who's touching my chest with a smirk on her face. "You look lonely—"

"Get the fuck outta here!" I bark and push her away. The girl slowly walks away from me with a scared face.

Thanks to Y/n and some other therapies I realised that I had haphephobia. Therapists said that it was because of my uncle's abuse on me. But because of Y/n, I felt the warmth of human touch.

My uncle died four years ago and I inherited all of his clubs, pubs, hotels and other trusts and foundations. I'm better now. Still, I hate touching others. If I touch someone, it's only to bring them pain.

My hands are only to bring pleasure to Y/n.

I watch my secretary approach me with a lazy face and a tablet in his hands. His black long hair, styled perfectly as he's in an expensive black Valentino suit. "I have something important to say," Yoongi says as I stand up and crack my stiff neck. "What is it? I'll take a rest in the VIP room upstairs." I say.

He makes a poker face and looks into the tablet. "It's important." I nod and he turns the tablet to me but my eyes widen as I saw the screen and hear Yoongi say,

"SinCity replied to your messages on Instagram. She said she'll meet you after two days and is ready to work on the project."

**************

I have an exam tomorrow and look at me updating on Wattpad thrice already today. Imma go and die.

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