Jonghyun sipped the coffee hesitantly, eyes leaden from tiredness. As he watched Taemin stare at his own mug emptily, he felt a sense of guilt, a feeling he couldn’t quite place.
“So... That’s it,” Taemin muttered, “that’s all I know. And if this detective is right... If he is then...”
“Maybe the owner of the car dealership is something to do with the gambling,” Jonghyun finished. “Maybe he’s who Jinki owed money to.”
“Right,” Taemin nodded, sipping his drink. The liquid was a shock to his system, a warm comfort in the early morning. The caffeine was all that was sustaining him, his mind a frayed wire that sparked whenever he blinked, as if to knock him back to sleep.   "Your evidence is so... So light though,” Jonghyun argued. “And, you say there’s this charity ball, right? Well, how would you manage to get in, or even talk to him if he was there? How could you find out anything, Taemin?”
Taemin shrugged.
“His name?" Jonghyun wondered, mug warm between his palms.
“Jung Hoyeon,” Taemin muttered, as if he’d memorised every detail of the man’s very existence.
“When’s the ball?”
“Tomorrow night, starts at seven.”
Jonghyun nodded slowly.
“I’ve no way of getting in,” Taemin stated blankly, “and no way to talk to him even if I do. There’s no point even trying... Too many people would recognise me, and-“
“I understand,” Jonghyun interrupted, “but there’s always a way, isn’t there? There has to be. What type of ball