➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Dance Floor? No. Dance Battlefield.”
The snow had barely settled on the pine branches when the music inside the pre-wedding hall took a dramatic turn. Gone were the soft, romantic Bollywood ballads from earlier.
Instead— Dhol. Bass. The kind of Punjabi wedding beat that physically picks you up and throws you onto the dance floor whether you like it or not.
From the corner, Diljit’s sunglasses caught the fairy light glow. He spotted the Wooga Squad like a hawk spotting prey.
Diljit: “OYE! Enough standing like background extras! Aaja, dance floor te!” (Come to the dance floor!)
Before anyone could breathe, he had already grabbed Taehyung, Y/N, Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, and Sung-hwan, dragging them forward like a human bulldozer.
The DJ blasted Ainvayi Ainvayi, and that was it. No one was safe.
Taehyung gave Y/N a look—half “we’re doing this?” and half “God help me”. Y/N smirked and shrugged, already rolling her shoulders to the beat.
Wooshik came skidding over from the snack table. “What’s—” “NO QUESTIONS, ONLY DANCE!” Diljit barked, yanking him into the circle.
In seconds, the floor was alive:
• Diljit in the center, stomping the ground like he was summoning ancestors.
• Taehyung moving with dangerously smooth precision—half mafia swag, half shaadi ka thumka.
• Seo-joon and Hyung-sik—absolutely losing it, trying to match each other’s hip moves.
• Sung-hwan—somehow doing bhangra AND dad-dancing at the same time.
And then— Y/N joined in.
Oh, she didn’t just join in—she owned it. Hair bouncing, bangles jingling, eyes sparkling—she hit every beat like she was born in a Bollywood dance number. Even Taehyung stopped mid-step just to watch her, that proud little smile twitching at his lips.
The crowd noticed. Whistles erupted. A few aunties clapped. One uncle muttered, “Bas, bas, dulha bhag jayega…” (Stop, stop, the groom will run away…)
That’s when the bride-to-be, Yuri, stormed in like royalty, dragging her fiancé Amarjit (Diljit’s older brother) with her. They dove straight into a giddha–bhangra fusion, pulling Y/N and Taehyung into the center.
Now it was full chaos:
• Yuri twirling like her lehenga was made of fire.
• Amarjit and Diljit doing shoulder drops so aggressive, the DJ had to turn up the bass.
• Y/N laughing so hard she nearly missed a beat—only for Taehyung to catch her wrist and spin her back in, his hand warm and sure at her waist.
• Seo-joon attempting a Bollywood hip swirl while laughing and looking like he’d pulled a muscle.
• Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan creating a two-man bhangra wall that blocked Wooshik’s escape route.
Princess? Safely perched on a grandma’s lap at the edge of the hall, clapping wildly and kicking her little legs like the tiniest hype-woman alive.
The DJ transitioned into Morni Banke, and the crowd turned feral. Phones were out. Cheering was deafening.
Taehyung leaned in to Y/N mid-spin, slightly breathless.
“You didn’t tell me Punjabis have this much stamina.”
Y/N grinned, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting under the fairy lights.
“This is only the warm-up.”
And just as Taehyung looked both impressed and mildly terrified— Diljit slapped him on the back.
“Next song, veere…we’re lifting people.”
Taehyung blinked.
“…What?”
The music blasted. The crowd roared. And before he knew it—Taehyung was hoisted on the shoulders of Amarjit and Diljit, the CEO of Kim Conglomerates reduced to a giggling mess as Y/N cheered from below, recording him, hands cupped around her mouth like his personal cheerleader.
Manali’s snowy peaks had probably never heard this much laughter and dhol in their lives.
Scene Title: “Manali Express: Population — Chaos”
The next morning, after a night of dhol beats, food comas, and Taehyung questioning his life choices while being tossed in the air by Punjabis, the crew was supposed to leave early for their Manali trip.
Supposed to.
8:00 AM – Official plan: “We leave sharp.” 10:47 AM – Reality: Seo-joon was still brushing his teeth while Diljit sang Lamborghini at full volume in the hallway.
Taehyung was ready. Y/N was ready. Princess was ready.
Everyone else? Running around like pigeons in a storm.
The Van Ride
The moment they all piled into the rented mini-bus, it became less of a trip and more of a moving circus.
Diljit claimed the AUX cord. Bad idea.
First song? Balle Balle. Second song? A remix of Balle Balle. Third song? The SAME remix but louder.
Seo-joon: “Do you… own other songs?” Diljit: “Do you… own other vibes?”
Meanwhile, Hyung-sik was trying to narrate the scenic views like a National Geographic host, but Sung-hwan kept interrupting with, “Bro, look, that cow is staring at us.”
Wooshik tried to nap. Keyword: tried. Because Princess decided his lap was her personal playground. She gave him a plastic ring, slapped his cheek gently, and announced in toddler gibberish that he was now her “uncle horsey.”
Y/N? Absolutely thriving. Leaning back, sipping chai from a travel mug, watching the chaos like a queen from her throne.
Taehyung, however, had a permanent hand on Princess’ tiny sock-covered foot to keep her from climbing onto the dashboard.
The Pit Stop
Somewhere halfway, they stopped for roadside Maggi. BIG mistake.
Diljit ordered five plates. Seo-joon tried to take one bite and accidentally inhaled chili powder, coughing like an amateur. Sung-hwan spilled chai on his pants and stood dramatically in the snow yelling, “I AM FREEZING FROM WITHIN.” Hyung-sik bought a woolen cap so big it looked like a teapot cozy.
Taehyung fed Y/N noodles with chopsticks because “you’re not touching this with your cold hands.” Y/N pretended to roll her eyes but secretly smiled.
Arrival in Manali
By the time they reached, the snow was falling in slow, aesthetic flakes. The mountains looked like they were posing for a postcard.
The group? Looked like survivors of a Bollywood zombie apocalypse.
Diljit immediately started making snowballs. At first, it was cute. Then he nailed Wooshik square in the back.
Suddenly— WAR.
Snowballs flew everywhere. Hyung-sik got tackled by Seo-joon. Sung-hwan used his height as an advantage, pelting everyone from above like a snow god. Princess squealed in delight, clapping as Y/N and Taehyung teamed up—him making the ammo, her doing the throwing.
Diljit ended up face-first in the snow, yelling something about “revenge will be served hot, like chai.”
By evening, they were all thawing out in a warm cabin, sipping hot cocoa. Taehyung sat by the fireplace, Princess curled against his chest. Y/N was by his side, he was playing with her hair strands.
Diljit, still slightly damp, pointed at them dramatically.
“These two… they look like a tourism ad. ‘Come to Manali, fall in love.’”
Y/N gave a poker face. Taehyung smirked. Hyung-sik gagged loudly.
And Manali? Probably regretted letting this group in.
♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Dance Floor? No. Dance Battlefield.”
The snow had barely settled on the pine branches when the music inside the pre-wedding hall took a dramatic turn.
Gone were the soft, romantic Bollywood ballads from earlier.
Instead—
Dhol.
Bass.
The kind of Punjabi wedding beat that physically picks you up and throws you onto the dance floor whether you like it or not.
From the corner, Diljit’s sunglasses caught the fairy light glow. He spotted the Wooga Squad like a hawk spotting prey.
Diljit: “OYE! Enough standing like background extras! Aaja, dance floor te!” (Come to the dance floor!)
Before anyone could breathe, he had already grabbed Taehyung, Y/N, Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, and Sung-hwan, dragging them forward like a human bulldozer.
The DJ blasted Ainvayi Ainvayi, and that was it.
No one was safe.
Taehyung gave Y/N a look—half “we’re doing this?” and half “God help me”.
Y/N smirked and shrugged, already rolling her shoulders to the beat.
Wooshik came skidding over from the snack table. “What’s—”
“NO QUESTIONS, ONLY DANCE!” Diljit barked, yanking him into the circle.
In seconds, the floor was alive:
• Diljit in the center, stomping the ground like he was summoning ancestors.
• Taehyung moving with dangerously smooth precision—half mafia swag, half shaadi ka thumka.
• Seo-joon and Hyung-sik—absolutely losing it, trying to match each other’s hip moves.
• Sung-hwan—somehow doing bhangra AND dad-dancing at the same time.
And then—
Y/N joined in.
Oh, she didn’t just join in—she owned it.
Hair bouncing, bangles jingling, eyes sparkling—she hit every beat like she was born in a Bollywood dance number. Even Taehyung stopped mid-step just to watch her, that proud little smile twitching at his lips.
The crowd noticed. Whistles erupted.
A few aunties clapped.
One uncle muttered, “Bas, bas, dulha bhag jayega…” (Stop, stop, the groom will run away…)
That’s when the bride-to-be, Yuri, stormed in like royalty, dragging her fiancé Amarjit (Diljit’s older brother) with her.
They dove straight into a giddha–bhangra fusion, pulling Y/N and Taehyung into the center.
Now it was full chaos:
• Yuri twirling like her lehenga was made of fire.
• Amarjit and Diljit doing shoulder drops so aggressive, the DJ had to turn up the bass.
• Y/N laughing so hard she nearly missed a beat—only for Taehyung to catch her wrist and spin her back in, his hand warm and sure at her waist.
• Seo-joon attempting a Bollywood hip swirl while laughing and looking like he’d pulled a muscle.
• Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan creating a two-man bhangra wall that blocked Wooshik’s escape route.
Princess?
Safely perched on a grandma’s lap at the edge of the hall, clapping wildly and kicking her little legs like the tiniest hype-woman alive.
The DJ transitioned into Morni Banke, and the crowd turned feral.
Phones were out. Cheering was deafening.
Taehyung leaned in to Y/N mid-spin, slightly breathless.
“You didn’t tell me Punjabis have this much stamina.”
Y/N grinned, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting under the fairy lights.
“This is only the warm-up.”
And just as Taehyung looked both impressed and mildly terrified—
Diljit slapped him on the back.
“Next song, veere…we’re lifting people.”
Taehyung blinked.
“…What?”
The music blasted. The crowd roared.
And before he knew it—Taehyung was hoisted on the shoulders of Amarjit and Diljit, the CEO of Kim Conglomerates reduced to a giggling mess as Y/N cheered from below, recording him, hands cupped around her mouth like his personal cheerleader.
Manali’s snowy peaks had probably never heard this much laughter and dhol in their lives.
Scene Title: “Manali Express: Population — Chaos”
The next morning, after a night of dhol beats, food comas, and Taehyung questioning his life choices while being tossed in the air by Punjabis, the crew was supposed to leave early for their Manali trip.
Supposed to.
8:00 AM – Official plan: “We leave sharp.”
10:47 AM – Reality: Seo-joon was still brushing his teeth while Diljit sang Lamborghini at full volume in the hallway.
Taehyung was ready.
Y/N was ready.
Princess was ready.
Everyone else?
Running around like pigeons in a storm.
The Van Ride
The moment they all piled into the rented mini-bus, it became less of a trip and more of a moving circus.
Diljit claimed the AUX cord. Bad idea.
First song? Balle Balle.
Second song? A remix of Balle Balle.
Third song? The SAME remix but louder.
Seo-joon: “Do you… own other songs?”
Diljit: “Do you… own other vibes?”
Meanwhile, Hyung-sik was trying to narrate the scenic views like a National Geographic host, but Sung-hwan kept interrupting with, “Bro, look, that cow is staring at us.”
Wooshik tried to nap. Keyword: tried. Because Princess decided his lap was her personal playground. She gave him a plastic ring, slapped his cheek gently, and announced in toddler gibberish that he was now her “uncle horsey.”
Y/N?
Absolutely thriving.
Leaning back, sipping chai from a travel mug, watching the chaos like a queen from her throne.
Taehyung, however, had a permanent hand on Princess’ tiny sock-covered foot to keep her from climbing onto the dashboard.
The Pit Stop
Somewhere halfway, they stopped for roadside Maggi.
BIG mistake.
Diljit ordered five plates.
Seo-joon tried to take one bite and accidentally inhaled chili powder, coughing like an amateur.
Sung-hwan spilled chai on his pants and stood dramatically in the snow yelling, “I AM FREEZING FROM WITHIN.”
Hyung-sik bought a woolen cap so big it looked like a teapot cozy.
Taehyung fed Y/N noodles with chopsticks because “you’re not touching this with your cold hands.”
Y/N pretended to roll her eyes but secretly smiled.
Arrival in Manali
By the time they reached, the snow was falling in slow, aesthetic flakes. The mountains looked like they were posing for a postcard.
The group?
Looked like survivors of a Bollywood zombie apocalypse.
Diljit immediately started making snowballs.
At first, it was cute.
Then he nailed Wooshik square in the back.
Suddenly—
WAR.
Snowballs flew everywhere.
Hyung-sik got tackled by Seo-joon.
Sung-hwan used his height as an advantage, pelting everyone from above like a snow god.
Princess squealed in delight, clapping as Y/N and Taehyung teamed up—him making the ammo, her doing the throwing.
Diljit ended up face-first in the snow, yelling something about “revenge will be served hot, like chai.”
By evening, they were all thawing out in a warm cabin, sipping hot cocoa.
Taehyung sat by the fireplace, Princess curled against his chest.
Y/N was by his side, he was playing with her hair strands.
Diljit, still slightly damp, pointed at them dramatically.
“These two… they look like a tourism ad. ‘Come to Manali, fall in love.’”
Y/N gave a poker face.
Taehyung smirked.
Hyung-sik gagged loudly.
And Manali?
Probably regretted letting this group in.
To be continued....
2 months ago | [YT] | 13