Kyungsoo considered parties a waste of time. The only ones he attended wasere Minseok’s birthday parties and that was when they were kids. And as time went by, those morphed into simple visits. Therefore, nothing had ever  prepared him for what he was experiencing right now.  A peculiar culture shock.

Squeezed into a corner of a worn out leather coach, he observed with a scornful frown the people around him. Their colorful, spiky hairdos and extravagant clothes. Some were dancing, or rather thrashing about, others were drinking. Those defeated by both of those activities were sprawled on the couches, chairs, or wherever there was some space, really. 

The place itself looked like an atelier of sorts. Paintings hung on from the walls, most of them painted in the modern pop-art style. Around them, various profanities were written in colorful paint ranging from ‘ off’ to ‘ my ’. Truly artistic.

However, the worst had to be the music. Loud. Rapid. Screechy. Incomprehensible.

‘For the love of Chopin! For what sins was he sent to that hell?!’

“Are you okay?” Minseok asked, plopping on the couch next to him.

It was a pointless question, and Kyungsoo only glowered in response. Minseok looked away awkwardly, gnawing on his bottom lip. Unlike Kyungsoo, he blended perfectly with the scenery thanks to his black, ripped pants and loose, red -checkered t-shirt.

“Here,” he handed Kyungsoo a red solo cup, “maybe this will help.”

Staring at the translucent liquid, Kyungsoo realized just how thirsty he was. He took a sip, and it set his throat ablaze.

“What… the… ?” Kyungsoo muttered in between sputters and chokes as tears pooled in his eyes.

Slightly panicked, Minseok patted his back and gave him a napkin. “Sorry, I thought a little bit of vodka could help you relax.”

Kyungsoo wiped his eyes and flung aside the cup, spilling its contents all over the filthy floor.

“So after all, you have a bit of a rocker side to you.”

Kai’s amused voice reached their ears. The cup crumpled under his heavy boot, as he approached them. Another one held in his hand.

“Minseok,” he addressed the boy, who immediately perked up at his sight, “Chen asked for you.”

“He did?” Minseok leapt to his feet, round cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.”  

Bubbling with excitement, Minseok was about to run off, but then he took a hesitant glance at Kyungsoo.

“Go,” Kyungsoo waved his palm nonchalantly, “I’ll be fine.”

Minseok beamed at him and left.

“You aren’t a party animal, huh?” Kai remarked as he slumped on the couch.

“How observant of you,” Kyungsoo shot back snidely.

Snorting a chuckle, Kai threw his head back and leaned against the couch. The alcohol sloshed in his cup, prompting Kyungsoo to scoot closer to the armrest. Now that he thought of it, wearing his favorite blazer to the punk rock concert wasn’t the brightest idea. 

“Then, tell me,” Kai drawled as he stretched his arm over the headrest, “what do you do in your free time?”

 Kyungsoo arched his eyebrow.

“Well, frankly, that’s none of your business.”

A lazy smirk spread over Kai’s lips, before he hid it behind the rim of his cup, taking a lingering sip. His eyes narrow and hazy as he gazed at Kyungsoo. It was intense – the look in his eyes – and decidedly unsettling.

Kyungsoo looked away, crossing his legs. He stared at Minseok who chatted idly with Chen behind the kitchen aisle. The boy never had any problems with making new friends.

“I play the piano,” Kyungsoo revealed out of the blue, “if you have to know.”

“Ah, so you’re a musician as well.” Kai grinned, hunching forward to catch his gaze again.

To Kyungsoo, the implication that they were somewhat similar to each other sounded utterly ridiculous. He summed it up with a derisive snort.

“Do you even possess any basic knowledge about the notes?”

“No,” Kai replied with an unfaltering smile, “but I don’t think that’s necessary to create good music.”

Unimpressed, Kyungsoo smacked his lips and dusted off his cuff. Amateurs.

“Right,” the vocalist chuckled, “forgot you don’t consider our music good. Then what do you listen to?”

“Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Liszt, Mozart and Beethoven,” Kyungsoo enumerated in one breath.

“Wait,” Kai cut in, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “you mean you only listen to classical music?”

“I listen to the best,” Kyungsoo corrected defiantly.

Kai brought his right palm to his lips and seemed to ponder on his next words. Kyungsoo’s eyes subtly followed his every move. Out of the sudden, the vocalist snatched a few peanuts from the bowl that stood on the table before them and spoke up.

“Can you imagine eating only peanuts for your entire life?” He asked as he held up one of the peanuts between his thumb and forefinger.

“Your point?” Kyungsoo countered.

“Listening to just one kind of music,” Kai popped one of the peanuts into his mouth, “is like eating constantly the same dish. Sounds pretty terrible to me.”

Kyungsoo’s head turned so fast a quiet snap could be heard. However, he didn’t let the slight pain affect him in any visible manner.

“Are you suggesting that Liszt is the same as Chopin?”

‘Outrageous. But could he really expect any less from someone who knew nothing about music yet dared to call himself a musician?’

“Fair enough,” Kai nodded thoughtfully,  “it’s like eating differently flavored peanuts. But still, peanuts.”

Jaw shifting in barely contained anger, Kyungsoo felt his tolerance for the cheeky vocalist melt away rapidly. Kai’s grin was infuriating and his metaphors completely unacceptable.

“Aren’t you sometimes curious,” Kai shifted on the couch to face Kyungsoo fully, “how other things taste like?” He asked and the remains of the salty peanut off his thumb.

Kyungsoo felt the tiniest shiver ran down his spine. Always desperate to stifle such reactions, he became even more agitated when he was unable to do so.

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Kyungsoo announced, standing up from the couch and buttoning up his blazer. “I have enough of listening to your nonsense.”  

Kai rose to his feet as well.

“Admit it,” he made one step closer toward Kyungsoo; enough for his lips to find themselves just inches above the other man’s ear, “you’re just afraid to find out that you may actually like those different tastes.”

Kyungsoo swallowed hard as the boy’s hot breath sparked a flutter somewhere deep within his gut. Kai read through him like he was an open book, though they’d barely just met. A new wave of irritation hit him.

“Like I said,” he muttered darkly as he splayed his fingers over Kai’s shoulders to push him away with gentle firmness, “nonsense.”

After that, he his heel and stormed off toward Minseok. And as he was walking further away from the vocalist, the most bizarre realization occurred to him.

There was no trace of alcohol on Kai’s warm breath…

♪ ♪ ♪

Minseok was living the dream of a Gary Stu. He was at the after party of his favorite band, and the bassist of the said band wanted to talk to him. Such scenarios were possible only in his wildest dreams, or fan fiction. At first, he struggled to believe it was all real. But Kyungsoo had pinched him upon his request. It hurt. A lot.

Therefore, Chen, standing by the kitchen aisle and frantically writing something on a napkin with one hand while tapping his fingers against the countertop with the other, had to be real. And Minseok had a rare occasion to witness the creation of another kickass song. Boy, oh boy was that exciting. His mouth almost burst at its seams from all the grinning.

Chen was the least ‘flashy’ guy in the band. No piercings, no spiky accessories and no colorful hairdo. He actually had that ‘boy next door’ charm about him, making him a lot less intimidating than the rest of the members. Still, Minseok’s palms covered in sweat when he approached him. His earlier fanboy’s bravado evaporated the moment the post-concert high ended, and now, he was reduced to his usual mushy timid-self.

“Hey,” he greeted, hands tucked into the pockets of his tight pants.

Chen raised his eyes from above the napkin, fingers stopping mid-air.

“Uhm…hey?”

 The boy with perfectly chiseled jawline looked at Minseok with an unguarded confusion.

“Kai told me you wanted to talk to me,” Minseok blurted in nervousness over the bassist’s reaction.

“He did?” Chen mused as he cocked his head to the side to glance behind Minseok. A roguish grin lit up his features once he diverted his attention back to his fan. 

“Right,” Chen stated then neatly folded his napkin and put it in the back pocket of his denim pants. The pen went behind his ear. “How did you get that Adrenaline Rush EP? We issued only one thousand copies,” he inquired, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Oh, I spotted it on a garage sale,” Minseok admitted with a lazy shrug.

He made it sound like it was nothing while the truth was he almost got a heart attack when he spotted the CD with the scrawled C₉H₁₃NO₃  Rush on a white cover. Being short on money back then, it was actually Kyungsoo who bought it for him as an early birthday present.

“It’s cool that you used the chemical symbol in the title.”

“Chanyeol’s idea. I thought it was pretentious, to be honest.”

Upon hearing the confession, Minseok’s shoulders drooped in disappointment. “Really?” He puckered his lips.

Chen barked out a jovial chuckle. “You and your friend make an interesting match. Like fire and water.”

“Or like Sid Vicious and Chopin,” Minseok mumbled and when Chen gave him a questioning look, he stepped closer and mimicked his position, propping his elbows on the countertop, “Kyungsoo is a bit of a musical purist. He only listens to the classical music. Maybe it’s selfish of me that I’ve dragged him to your concert and then here, but I wish he would just loosen up for once in his life.” 

“He seems like he’s…” Chen paused ponderingly, “a man with strong opinions.”

“Oh, you bet,” Minseok shot him a dead serious look, “I had to nag him for weeks before he finally yielded and went to that concert with me, and then he left after hearing just a few notes.”

Chen’s eyebrows inched up and a mocking half-smile appeared on his face. Minseok had a feeling the man had just bit back some snarky comment, regarding his friend’s attitude. He couldn’t help but to feel saddened by such reaction. Everyone always were so quick to judge Kyungsoo. He would think that Chen was different, but apparently he would be wrong.

 “Hey man, don’t be like that,” Minseok said, shaking his head.

Kyungsoo hated when he did that - when he defended him. But at that time, it wasn’t only about Kyungsoo. More like, he just really needed to make sure that Chen wasn’t a complete, self-righteous douche.

“You don’t know him, so don’t give me that face,” he snapped, sounding harsher than intended. “He’s a good person and an insanely talented pianist. He’s just more on edge than usual because of the upcoming Chopin Competition.”  

Chen held up his hands defensively. “Fine, I believe you.”

“You do?” Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Minseok wasn’t sure whether the bassist was serious or he was just messing with him. Usually, people weren’t so quick to change their opinions about Kyungsoo.

“Yeah, I mean if he has such a loyal, devoted friend like you, he cannot be a bad person,” Chen said with a soft smile.

Minseok ducked his head, absentmindedly rubbing his nape with his palm. Was that a compliment just now? Or just a simple statement? He didn’t want to act like a delusional fan, overanalyzing things. Nonetheless, he hoped it was the former.

Anyhow, he was glad Chen didn’t turn out to be a jerk.  He grinned at the thought.

“It seems your friend is coming to snatch you.”

“What?” Minseok lifted his head, hearing Chen’s words and turned around.

He was met by the sight of Kyungsoo walking up to him in all his pissed-off glory.

“We’re leaving,” his friend announced and not waiting for him, left for the exit.

“Oh, b-but…” Minseok tried to protest, but he knew it was futile.

Kyungsoo had already left, and he couldn’t let him go back home alone. 

“Darn it,” he cursed under his breath then looked back at Chen. “It was nice meeting you and thanks for the invite.” Words rushed out of his mouth, and then he ran after his friend, before the bassist could reply.

♪ ♪ ♪

Leaning against the wall, Baekhyun squeezed a beer bottle in his palm as he observed how Kai shamelessly flirted with that arrogant -hat. He was ing out of his mind. What if the guy would go to the press? After all, he didn’t even like them. Nothing stopped him from shattering their band’s reputation. But apparently, Kai had zero regard for that, letting his take over his thinking processes. Pathetic.

“Hey pretty boy, why look so sad?” Chanyeol’s tall, lean frame entered his line of vision.

His body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his red hair was matted, sticking to his forehead. He spent the last hour trashing about in a pogo dance to the tune of Misfits’ biggest hits. And he was still bobbing to the rhythm as he stood before his boyfriend.

Baekhyun looked into his half-lidded eyes with blown out pupils. “The you took? I told you to cut that crap.” He shoved Chanyeol’s shoulder but the drummer didn’t budge.

“Chill, it’s just Molly,” Chanyeol drawled with a grin plastered on his face. “I could get you one, you know? Would help you relax.” He grabbed Baekhyun’s hips and swayed seductively in front of him. “Or we could just make out.”

Baekhyun pushed him away, this time using enough force to send him tripping backwards.

“ you.”

Chanyeol scrambled back to his feet and faced his boyfriend again.

“I would gladly, but you prefer to glare at Kai from the inside of your tight- closet,” Chanyeol yelled into his face. “Stop acting like we’re idols. We're punks. No one ing cares if we’re fags.”  

Always so ing out and proud. Baekhyun was sick of it. Sick of being the only one who actually cared about their band and their relationship.

“Shut the up!” Baekhyun lunged at his boyfriend, ready to punch the out of him.

“Hey, hey! Stop!” Sehun appeared just in time, separating them from each other and ending their scuffle. “What the is wrong with you two?” He asked as he stood between them, keeping them at arm’s length.

Breathing heavily, Baekhyun glowered at Chanyeol whose lips formed a thin line. A small jerk of his head from side to side told him he wanted him to keep quiet. But he was too angry to cover for him.

“He’s on ecstasy, again,” he revealed.

Immediately, Sehun’s attention focused solely on Chanyeol. “ing great. Who sold it to you?”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Chen approached them, a troubled expression on his face.

“Chanyeol took ecstasy,” Sehun told the bassist while keeping his stern eyes on Chanyeol.

The red haired boy stood restless and agitated but didn’t say a word.

“,” Chen muttered under his breath, running fingers through his short hair. “Okay, let’s wrap up the party then.”

He ran up to the loudspeakers and unplugged them cutting off Pistols in the middle of their Anarchy in the UK. Then he leapt onto the couch and shouted: “Everybody out! The party is over!”

The crowd began booing and grumbling words of protest, but eventually, they began leaving.

“Why are we wrapping up?” Kai asked his friends, but no one felt like answering him.

Everyone avoided his gaze and that was enough of a clue for him. He grabbed Chanyeol’s shirt forcing him to face him. One look into the drummer’s eyes confirmed his suspicions.

Kai’s usual soft features twisted with scorn. “Who gave it to you, huh? Who was it?!” He yelled, but Chanyeol remained impassive.  

“Calm down, Kai. He’s not gonna tell you anyway.” Sehun pried his hands away and moved him aside to put considerable distance between him and the drummer.

However, Kai was far from calm. Tugging at his hair, he kicked a chair, sending it flying across the room.

“Why are you so ing stupid?!” Once again he yelled at Chanyeol, before leaving upstairs to his room.

After Kai left, the drummer finally regained his ability to speak:

“Well, you all.” He ed his middle fingers at his bandmates and left their apartment.

Sehun and Chen looked at Baekhyun expecting him to run after his boyfriend, but the guitarist didn’t move an inch. Not for the first time Chanyeol had broken the number one rule of their band – no drugs, even the weaksoft ones. And Baekhyun was simply tired of his boyfriend’s stunts, fed up with running after him and saving him from trouble. Maybe if he let Chanyeol for once face the consequences of his actions fully, he would realize what wa’s at stake; that he could actually lose them in exchange for those fleeting moments of high...