There was a fog, clinging to the air. It wafted up in plumes throughout the room, leaving behind a haze of pink and orange. It smelled faintly like rose, a scent Sanghyuk was all too familiar with. It made him feel giddy, but not quite high. His mind was still with him, and he remembered what exactly he was here for. 

There was the opening, and the slamming of a door. In a drunken stupor, Sanghyuk knew he wasn’t thinking straight — but he also knew he couldn’t imagine what he saw. He knew he shouldn’t of gone to that party; he had far too much homework to do. But Jaehwan begged and begged, and who was the younger to say no?