"He wouldn't stop saying lame pickup lines. It was torture," Dara complains. 

"Gee, a hot guy flirting with you. Sounds horrible." 

Dara laughs, "Seriously. I had the worst headache and I just wanted to sleep but Seungri wouldn't shut up - I didn't sleep a wink!" she pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales a breath of frustration, "Anyway, enough about me. How are you feeling after the whole T.O.P situation?" 

"I sort of... I don't care, I guess. Like I'm not sad or numb or anything. Last night I felt horrible, but this morning I just feel normal."

"Well that's good. He isn't worth any of your sadness," her face contorts with anger and her fists clench, "God, he's such an ! I can't wait to punch his face on Monday-"

The glint in her eyes is worrying me. "Dara, no-"

"Oh, the joy I will feel when my fist collides with his face-" 

"No. You're not going to-"

"And then I'll scratch out his eyes-" she demonstrates how she'll scratch out his eyes and I look at her in alarm. 

"Dara. You are not doing any of that to Tabi on Monday," I tell her. As satisfying as it would be seeing TOP get what he deserves, I didn't want anymore drama in my life. 

"Yeah. You're right," she eventually huffs, her posture slouching. I exhale a breath of relief, "I should wait a week or two so I can grow out my nails and train so I can throw a good punch. Make it more painful for him." 

"You are crazy," I shake my head at her with a laugh.

"Nope. Just your best friend," she grins, leaning her head on my shoulder as we lay in my bed. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I ask after a moment of silence.

"Bad. I have the worst headache and can actually taste the vomit in my mouth."

I scrunch up my nose in distaste, "Poor baby. Need a bucket?"

"Mmm nah, I'll be alright," she replies. Her phone buzzes from the bedside table and she picks it up, "Its my mom. She wants to know when to pick me up." 

"Whenever you want." 

"Alright," she replies to the message with 'never' and I roll my eyes. "So can we have a movie marathon?" she asks, sitting up and placing her phone back down on the bedside table. "I feel like watching a bunch of sappy romances."

"Noooo," I whine. I'm not a fan of romance movies. Just romance novels. "Let’s watch a comedy." 

"What about both? I really wanna see Trainwrec-"

An abrupt knock on the door cuts Dara short of her talking, "Come in!" I call, and the door opens, revealing Jiyong’s mom. In her hands is a tray of all sorts of foods; salami, crackers, cheese, grapes and two glasses of orange juice.

"Hey girls, how are you feeling?" she asks with a sly smile.

A quality I've noticed in Jiyong's parents is that they're very lenient. They had no problem with Dara and I arriving late at night from a party. In fact, she was quite excited, asking me to dish her out all the 'goss'. She says Jiyong never likes talking about his life, so it