#oneonone.

“I’d tell you to check the date on that soda but --- soda doesn’t expire does it?” 

daehyun wasn’t awake. the kind of awake where he could register his surroundings, much less people barging in his space. everything’s been a bit of a blur, a pleasurable blur and probably why sori thinks he’s just finished a party. he’s got the look on his face like he’s sated when he’s not. to be fair it does look like about ten people just made their out his dorm but he’s jut been - busy. he’s got a stack of papers on the desk by his bed that tell more of a tale than the clothes lying around. it's nearing one in the morning and he’s supposed to be gearing up for something something ----- early morning practice...

never mind it’s friday no practice. 

company! he doesn’t mind sori’s company as much as he thinks it worries her. daehyun adapts pretty quickly, like sliding a sweatshirt over his body and using his hand to throw his hair back and wake himself up. “aside from you barging in my dorm like this, what’re you scared for? I mean I’m a little upset you came here this late by yourself--- what were there guys outside or something?” he gathers himself, wits personality and all to respond.

I don’t think J.seph hyung approves of my word choices. But let’s say he did, and someone asks what the point of your dance is, the backwards gorilla and the wait for it - fly swatter.

House parties in concept seemed like a good idea. House parties in execution always failed. Always.

Daehyun’s first house party experience consisted of too much heat and too many egos. He was a freshman then, he didn’t have much of an ego but didn’t have much knowledge of what it could get him. Cramped spaces and suffocation. Tight throats and soft words. It’s not as pretty, only in the few moments when everyone is pressed up and all they see is strobes behind their eyelids. At that time it was fun, at that time he thought wow this must be what college is. Then things closed, cramped and squeezed everyone out. In a frenzy or a downpour, kids spilling out the door like ants. 

At that time it’d been because some loud mouth posted a picture of them drinking with friends. 

This time it’s not different, different sell out but same outcome.

House parties were nothing but ego ego ego and so much ego once the person hosting the party inflated enough, they got sloppy, sloppy like upstairs with a date or wasted on the floor. Then someone fucks up and everyone is either fucked or getting the fuck out. Daehyun was getting the fuck out. To begin with he’s not supposed to be here so he tries to ghost himself out with a hoodie and a simple outfit, simpler than his usual. But he’s noticed in seconds, hood off in minutes and having a good time in five. That’s when it happens and that’s how he ends up slipping out the back, thoughts of a practice probation and a long ass lecture in his mind.

Because one, no way he could swim tomorrow with a killer hangover and two, no way could he show up to his parents’ place high as hell and explain why he’s being escorted by police ( because wouldn’t the police love to plaster their so-called model son on every headline ).

He’s getting by pretty good, good on his feet and good on his appearance. Pretty good when he runs into the fence, pretty confused when he registers the girl before him. Familiar but everything’s a little blurry and a little too glaring for him to fully understand. Things like police sirens and a girl that should set off some kind of siren for titles or statuses.

      daehyun’s not picky. 

      it’s a fact that can be applied to several things. friends, majors, careers, food, lifestyles, drugs. he’d not picky. he’s got friends in all places high, low, mild and medium rare. he’s got interests in majors across the board, could study biochemistry if he wanted to and could study communication and film if he wanted to. food he’s probably a little pickier with, food he’s probably got more preferences though that won’t stop him from shoving whatever’s put in front of him in his mouth, with or without etiquette. 

      and honestly, weed is weed.

      that aside, back to the topic at hand. he’s not picky meaning he’s not too complicated. so when he gets a text message from nahyun who he hears from once every blue moon he’s not asking why and he’s not making a fuss. he’s ready to make a fuss when he arrives, in playful jabs that are just friends being friends, but nothing more. he’s not going to ask why he’s heading over when he has work to do or why he’s indulging in whatever task she has for him.

      even when it’s helping her with dorm stuff, in this hot-ass weather.

“what good is his advice if it’s not taken literally?” break into the industry. knock everyone off their feet. be a pinnacle, tire out on a pedestal. if daehyun didn’t take the advice literally he’d probably be a little too tame and fit right into his father’s mold. specially crafted and yet as mundane as the rest. what fun was that? 

it’s only when he’s a little tipsy that he ever speaks about his father, and it’s only around certain people that he dares to. 

it’s because, sometimes daehyun speaks his father’s name and people clam up. shape their responses for their favor. he doesn’t think it’s as serious as all that, nor is it necessary. he just speaks of normal father-son mind shit, he doesn’t need the titles attached to it. he prefers to deal with that sober.

he’s not too tipsy right now either having only downed enough shots to make his goofy grin permanent. 

it’s been about an hour into this session, this heavy heart and loose lip session where he’s felt his own buzz come and go and felt the need to chase it. where he can’t get that pleasant warmth just yet and settles for cheap body heat in a small space. shitty dorm light filters through his fingers that try to grab at that pretty haze it makes when the eyes are a little too tired to work. “let’s go then.” it prompts him to stand up, more stable than he’d thought, lighter when he’s got a can of beer in his hand and one hand in his hair. 

so daehyun promised, he promised to take her to this real swanky spot that everyone on campus was talking about. sissel was into indie scenes like that and the place had it’s fair share of buskers ( or so he’s been told ) and urban seoul aesthetics. he’s not one for places like that but it’s because he isn’t the type to take in too much of whatever’s around him. people like to tell daehyun how beautiful seoul is and he lives and breathes it’s nightlife but he’s never really taken it in. never let it sink deeper than his veins. all it is, is the adrenaline and nothing else. maybe he’s too selfish. maybe he’s too caught up.

he should talk. and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s laughing at himself. because isn’t it always the ones who think they should do something that don’t. the ones that think they should stop drinking while staring down a bottle. those people are afraid of baring what’s left of their soul to the world, dae’s more afraid of baring what’s trapped up top. the same top that she taps so fondly and he’s pushing forward a grin.

see control is a funny thing. doesn’t always know how to stay within his grasp but yet he functions on it, needs it. his mother says he gets it from his dad, he tells her she shouldn’t make insults like that.

ironically enough that’s the only thing that could make daehyun’s control over his emotions slip. he’s not sure if it happens before he sends the message or after but he’s sure the moment he sends it that he’s lost some of it. the mask, the skin. he’ll pick up a bottle and do tricks with his emotions. pretend he’s not drinking to get rid of thoughts and just drinking to drink. drinking to have fun. because people do that right? he’s not getting shit-faced to numb everything that’s irresponsible.

and what’s there to numb? the constant buzz in his head, not like needles but strings pulling apart at tissue - the echo of his parents words that have been on constant repeat. a reel meant for torture and a test of endurance. sometimes getting shit-faced numbs nothing, and sometimes it numbs everything. he’s been out all day and haru’s the first number he dials when he reaches.

“i’ve been talking all day,” words come out carefully, maybe they’re curt and maybe they’re just tired. “and I’m honestly real tired of it.” yeah tired.

try saying all this to bm, see what he says.