The club was booming with activity, the high energy of the music making it seemingly impossible not to join the lively crowds on the dance floor. Just outside of this zone was a restaurant built into the far side, round tables lining the wall with a fair view of the activity. This was where Kim Jonghyun got seated, introducing Key to his friends, as well as the friends of his friends, and the girlfriend of that friend; a gathering of people who came out just to have a good time.

This was where Key’s charismatic ability to quickly grow on people clicked on, and he was accepted before the appetizer had even arrived to the table. “The concert was phenomenal. We have great, strong belief that music is universal, and Lady Gaga is a saint in the world of International Pop. I’d never seen such a lively crowd...”

Jonghyun was impressed, and admittedly, a tad jealous at how Key had captivated the table on his story. But he didn’t let this get to him, for Key had been apparently going insane with nothing to do at the dorm, and deserved a night to call his own. As he took a sip of his Coke, he looked out to the crowd... and then something, or rather, someone caught his eye at the bar. Someone who looked awfully familiar.

“Close your mouth, Jjong, you’ll catch flies.” Key suddenly brought him back to the table. Jonghyun shook his head, and leaned in.

“I think I see the girl Minho is watching.” he whispered. As they engaged in this conversation, the attention of the table shifted to Charlie, the girl from America, who was speaking about what she had seen on America’s views on Lady Gaga.

“What? No way! She is supposed to be recovering, right? Isn’t drinking completely bad for the brain?!” Key hissed back, eyes scanning the bar.

“I need to get a closer look.” Jonghyun said, rising.

“I need to see this.” Key rose with him. Then to the table, “Excuse us.”

The two stepped out of the restaurant’s limits, cutting through the crowds of people to get a better look at who Jonghyun suspected. In moments, they had creeped mere feet away from her, partially concealed by an indoor garden lit up with neon lights. Sure enough, it was her.

“That’s her! What the hell is she doing here?” Jonghyun gasped. Where was Minho? Was he here, too?

But she didn’t look like she came here to party, Key noted. She wasn’t dressed in a flashy dress or even a blouse.

She came in a sloppy t-shirt and shorts, and her posture further conveyed a depressed feeling. No, she wasn’t here to have a good time. “She’s here just to drink.”

Jonghyun pulled out his phone. “We have to tell Minho.”

Key moved to stop him, grabbing him by the wrist. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? If she came here behind his back, maybe we shouldn’t just tell on her...”

Jonghyun shook his head. “Key, she was hospitalized. She needs a chaperone for a reason. Regardless of why she’s here, she can’t be drinking. It can seriously have bad side-effects for a concussion patient.” Key frowned, but backed away for him to dial. It had been a good point.

“Minho, where are you?” Jonghyun asked. Pause. “Me and Key are at a club, and we see Lily here. She’s at the...” Suddenly he trailed off. Looking back to the bar, Lily was suddenly gone. “She was at the bar, but I don’t know where she disappeared to, just now... crap, where is she?” Pause. “Are you sure?” Pause. “Alright then. Bye.”

“Should we go after her?” Key asked. “She went towards the door to leave.”
Jonghyun shook his head. “Minho said to not worry more about it. He doesn’t want us to follow her around anymore.”

The rest of the night went far more smoothly, the two getting back into the party mood when they returned to their group. But even as they laughed and joked, there was a slight concern lying underneath it all for Lily. Neither of them knew her well, nor what kind of person she was...

She had just one reason to be here, yet a million reasons that she should not.

She’d taken careful measures to be here- she had ensured that she was alone, taken care to get the key from Minho, and had taken a taxi out of town to go to the one and only place she knew that would serve alcohol without an I.D., for Rose had confiscated it before leaving. She didn’t consider herself an alcoholic, but she drank. A lot. She was well aware about what Rose had read off to her on concussions, but in the moment, she didn’t give a damn. She needed a buzz to loosen up, she needed to stop stressing over every last thing.

But when she sat on the stool, hearing the deafening music and being blinded by the strobe lights behind her, she suddenly questioned this. She stared down into the drink she ordered, a deep feeling of guilt eating at her insides. She had promised Minho that she wouldn’t do something stupid, and here she was, about to drink.

Had this happened twenty-four hours before, she wouldn’t have hesitated. The only person that concerned her was Rose, and Rose was far too forgiving. Why was Minho suddenly on her unfortunately-miniscule list of people she gave a damn about?

But you took so many measures to get here... just drink...

She had made up her mind that she’d do it, but at the same time, her hands were not cooperating with her, as if she was physically unable to pick up the glass. She could feel another headache coming on.

No... she couldn’t do it.

Pushing the drink away and putting down the bill for the bartender, she rose from the stool, turning for the door. What a mess, she was, cowering from a glass of spirits. When she arrived back home, she would collapse on the couch with a depressed sigh. She wished she had never sent him away. It was as if she couldn’t even trust herself.

Minho knocked on the door loudly that next afternoon. She would answer, and he would step in, muttering in a dismissive way, “Good morning.”

He looked around the apartment, looking for any sure signs of someone who had gotten smashed. It looked just like it did before. She didn’t look hungover, either, but there was something about the way she turned her back to him and returned to the couch, far too interested in whatever program was on TV.

He wasn’t going to play games, today. He was going to get straight to the point, and hear whatever she had to say afterwards. “You promised.”

She widened her eyes. A confirmation.

“My friends saw you at a bar yesterday. What were you thinking? You are not supposed to drink. You promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid.” She looked down at the floor as he said this, looking sorrowful. She reached for the whiteboard, and wrote slowly. Then she held it up to him.

‘I didn’t drink yesterday.’ it read.

Minho’s lips parted in an unbelievable gasp. “They said they saw you...”

‘I went to the bar yesterday. I didn’t drink.’

Despite having every reason not to believe her, he suddenly lost every drop of anger and frustration he had before, replaced with a feeling of... wonder.

“I hope you know I’m not leaving you alone anymore, especially not with the key. You just lost your trust.” he said, trying to build up enough strength to not sound so forgiving. He didn’t know what to think, at the moment.

and then, the door to the apartment clicked. “Hey! I’m back!”