Mingling. Taecyeon quickly learned that he disliked it.

Guests of many ages filled a huge hallway. Fitted tuxedos and swirling gowns ranged in all colors, which brightened the elegant hall. Despite the large chandeliers with golden hues, wooden floors and curtains of velvet, surprisingly, it left a cold and distant impression. The only feeling of life were the event's attendees, who exchanged greetings and small talk. Occasionally, waiters stood out in the crowd in their white shirts, vests and ties. Carrying trays of champagne, they made sure that every glass was refilled or replaced with a new one.

Taecyeon had already emptied two. It was a great way to calm his nerves. When he and Miss Im, he thought that he would pass out. Because he was finally put to the challenge, which the lady had mentioned a few days earlier. It was difficult, to say the least. However, anxiety gave him the ambitious push he needed to deliver. If he failed, the woman next to him would as well, and he'd lose his job.

Once he had finished his second glass, the process went a lot smoother. He established a state that allowed him to open up and greet most guests without trouble. Many liked him and Taecyeon dared to make them laugh, even. It was great. Because, he made connections and contacts that might become invaluable for his career. Everybody who attended was an important figure in the world of media. He had received a golden opportunity. Plus, it helped his boss, of course.

Nobody, in fact, realized that Miss Im didn't know their name. Mostly because of her date, to the man's pride. By encouraging advice from his boss, Taecyeon found how to hide the trade of information. Simply, he pretended to share casual nothings with her.

However, typically enough, his manners had started to become dangerous. Because, every time Taecyeon had to tell the name of the next guest, he leaned closely and mumbled close to her ear. Oftentimes, she answered with a smile, as though she laughed at a joke. The man had noticed that he liked the sight, and it wasn't a good thing. Especially not if her expression affected his mood the times it was directed towards somebody else.

Could Taecyeon remember correctly, a particular man had made him irritated. When the stranger, a successful and international businessman, greeted Miss Im, he acted very friendly that it nearly boarded improper. To Taecyeon's surprise, his boss returned the feeling. After they had bid the man goodbye, his name wouldn't leave Taecyeon's mind. Seungri. He promised himself to never forget it.

In his defense, Taecyeon had been drinking on an empty stomach. Furthermore, the stranger had triggered a sense of protection. Given that Taecyeon had sensed flirtatious vibes, it made him react instinctively regarding Miss Im. Perhaps he stood slightly too close. Maybe his grin was slightly too exaggerated. Perchance, he answered the man's handshake too harshly. Nevertheless, he only did it with the best of intentions, and to ward off trouble.

When Seungri had vanished, Taecyeon relaxed and his mood improved. But, his hunger didn't. For the last hour, his stomach had begun to scream louder and louder for nutrition in the form of food. Grumbling sounds increased in power and left Taecyeon uneasy, in case anyone heard. It reached the point until it became embarrassing. Especially when Miss Im turned to frown at him when she heard a particular rumble. Trying to act normal, Taecyeon looked the other way, up and into a corner in the ceiling, casually scratching the back of his head. Moments later, a different sound reached his ears, which he suspected was a snort in laughter. Or, perhaps it had been his imagination.

The man dropped the mystery instantly, though, when the host asked guests to begin to move into the dining hall. Absoinglutely, he thought. But, Taecyeon didn't get far. The flow of attendees went slowly, and Miss Im even tightened her grip of his arm to hold him back. It seemed as if Taecyeon had tried to rush. Not that he noticed, though. Pictures of all dishes delicious filled his brain. Some part, however, managed to penetrate through and speak to his consciousness. It wasn't professional and he needed to think of his and Miss Im's image.

Soon enough, they were guided to their seats by a waiter. The decorations were gorgeous. Round tables filled the room, eight chairs by each. Large flower arrangements in red, orange and yellow filled the flaring castellation of tall vases with very narrow bodies. White canvases lay underneath plates and gold cutlery, covered in glittering confetti. Curtains had been draped above, from ceiling to walls, that shielded guests from glaring lights and spread a warm glow. Soft tones of ja