The next time Tiffany ran into G-Dragon—it’s Jiyong, Tiffany—it was almost a month later.

“Ah, it’s crowded. Why would so many people want to go to a club at Christmas time, anyway?” she said, whining a little as she could already feel the sweat starting to bead on her hairline.

Yuri looked at her in bemusement while Hyoyeon scoffed amusedly.

“We’re one of them too, you know.”

That just made Tiffany sigh. “…Trust me, I know.”

Laughing slightly, Yuri grabbed her hand and pulled her with slight force into the club. “Yah, you need this more than we do, idiot. Unwind, relax, dance like you think you can—hey!”

“I can dance!” she asserted in English, open in a mock-offended way as Hyoyeon’s laughter played out in the background, but then it melted into a reluctant grin as she saw both of them looking at her in that puppy dog way she was sure they coined from Sunny—the Master of puke-worthy aegyo.

“Yeah, alright. Never said I wasn’t gonna enjoy it; I’m not that unwilling.”

At that, Hyo snorted. “Yeah. That’ll be the day. When you’re unwilling, that is.”

“Shut up. At least I’m not you, you club-maniac.” She retorted as they were permitted into the club without much fuss. After all, what she had told Hyoyeon wasn’t really exaggerating anything at all. She really was the club maniac of the group and as such, she was known as a celebrity regular in most clubs around.

 Tiffany knew it was the only way street girl Hyoyeon unwound herself from the stress and pressure of maintaining an image from being in Girl’s Generation—by being the ultimate opposite of said image. In the past few years, that pressure to maintain that -blushing-schoolgirl concept had dwindled down by a lot, so the burden had lessened greatly, but even though her trips to clubs had also lessened, it hadn’t by much. And recently, even the rest of the members allowed Hyoyeon to drag them to her hang out spots. However, the divide between people who actually enjoyed the experience and the ones who just wanted to die was established quickly enough. It was quite obvious on which side of the line Yuri and Tiffany belonged to.

Already she could feel the muted bass thrumming through her skin and the neon pink lights glared at her harshly from the ceiling. However, that was nothing compared to what was actually inside the club.

Tiffany could feel the music make her entire body vibrate as the bass made it seem like her blood was being stirred. This club was apparently called Noise Basement, and now she could see that it was aptly named. The neon and laser lights were almost blinding in its ferocity, blinking in and out according to the crazy beat of the music, leaving streaks of precise greens and blues and reds and whites on faces that blinked out of existence in the next millisecond but stayed imprinted behind eyelids. There were lots of people on the vast dancefloor, clothes glittering sin and hair shining in seduction.

Club scenes never failed to make her simply stare; stare at the way everyone just let go of everything and simply chose to be—you could be sober or you could be drunk, you could be exhausted or you could be energized; no differences could be seen on the dance floor. It was just a mosh pit of lights and movement and glitter and dazzle.

 “C’mon! Let’s get a drink first!” Yuri yelled over the noise, leaning towards Tiffany before grabbing hold of her hand again and pulling her towards where the bar was.

Drinks in hand, Tiffany glanced around for the third person of their group. “Yah, where’s Hyo? Don’t tell me she ditched us already.”

“No, she told me she was reserving us our seats at the VIP section. Celebrities usually get preference there, so I’m not too worried.” Yuri answered, sipping her own drink cautiously while moving her body to the beat of the son