Jungkook vitiligo

— bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Taehyung knew his worth: sharp cheekbones, a languid gaze, perfect proportions. The agency was looking for the face of a new campaign, and Taehyung was already mentally trying on the contract. His competitors, and especially this new guy, Jungkook, were a pale shadow. Rumor had it he had vitiligo, and Taehyung chuckled: ugliness isn't a vice, but in fashion, it's a death sentence.

When the doors swung open, Jungkook wasn't just handsome—he was different. For the first time in his life, Taehyung felt the ground shift beneath his feet. Jungkook had a spot hugging his collarbone, another running down his wrist, a third touching the corner of his lips. Jungkook looked into the camera with such a bold, defiant expression.

The jury's whispers gave way to rapturous gasps. The agency director removed his glasses and wiped them: "My God, this is brilliant."

A black, sticky hatred boiled in Taehyung's chest. He saw the casting director touching Jungkook's arm, the photographers literally begging him to stand at this or that angle.

Taehyung approached him after the results were announced. Jungkook had passed, Taehyung was in reserve.

"Don't think this will last long," Taehyung hissed, adjusting his perfectly straight bangs. "Tomorrow they'll find another cripple, and they'll forget about you."

Jungkook turned around.

"You know, Taehyung," he said quietly. "You're perfect. But your perfection is so boring."