It only took five minutes for Daeun to realize that bringing the others with her to Minwoo's party was a bad idea. Changkyun had quickly disappeared upon seeing some friends of his on the other side of the room and Hyungwon, miraculously, already had a girl on each arm eating up his every word- how he had managed to charm them so easily or what they found that appealing about him in the first place, she hadn't the faintest clue. Minhyuk had also attempted to drag her along with him towards the drink table serving as a makeshift bar, chattering nonstop about all the fun they would have- she escaped though, Kihyun accompanying the hyperactive, soon to be wasted red headed male in her place.

It took her exactly two minutes after that to realize that coming wasn't just bad- it had been an immensely bad idea. Jooheon seemed it hit it off with Minwoo immediately, the pair walking off with twin smirks on their faces that spelled trouble and secretive whispers; Minwoo had a white bottle of alcohol in his hands and something told her that both he and Jooheon would be hammered before an hour had even passed. While she was upset that her best friend had been stolen by her new frenemy, she also was thankful that she was not going to be dragged into whatever they were going to get themselves into that night. Besides, a drunk Minwoo and a drunk Daeun were not a good combination- though she had the sneaking suspicion that switching her out with a drunk Jooheon wouldn't make the best pairing either. Wonho hadn't come- fortunately; she didn’t know how she was supposed to get through the night remaining mostly sober if he had.

"And then there were two," a deep voice whispered in her ear, startling her a little until she remembered that Shownu was still by her side and had yet to disappear into the crowd of moving bodies like the others.

“I’m going to need a drink,” Daeun muttered under her breath, heading in the direction Minhyuk had only a few moments before.

“Well then I guess you’re definitely stuck with me then,” Shownu appeared by her side once more, shouldering his way past the intoxicated guests in order to walk directly to the left of her. “You promised you wouldn’t get wasted and sweep some other guy off his feet, remember?” he joked with her. She returned his smile, but couldn’t hide her faint annoyance, eyes narrowing at him. Originally, the statement was made to get away from him and break off on her own, but it looks like the attempt had failed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Shownu or enjoy his company, she just wanted to be alone and party away to her heart’s content, relieving the stress that had built up from dealing with a certain blue banged boy the past few days and the after effects of seeing someone be shot. Oh well, perhaps Shownu would be a fun drunk- that was how they met after all, even if she couldn’t remember it, and he had acted as though they made perfect partners in crime at the time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Come on,” Shownu says once they both have longnecked bottles of some kind of alcohol in their hands, neither bothering to check exactly what brand or type. He jerks his head towards the staircase, leaning back to grab her wrist with his free hand to pull her along when she doesn’t take the hint fast enough. “I think I still remember the way,” he mumbles to himself, making her stare at him like he’s lost it- not that him or any of the others ever really had it or anything else to begin with.

He leads her up the old staircase and to a room that is very familiar in more ways than one: the guest bathroom. This time there are no plastic red cups, trash, or discarded shirts- not yet at least-, but aside from that, the room is the same as it has always been in all her previous visits, the same as it was when she woke up that fateful morning after Shownu had literally just dumped her in the tub and left without a trace aside from the calling card left drawn on her skin. To say she was unamused would be an understatement if the glare she shot the grinning black haired boy as he sat down on the closed toilet lid was any indication of what she was feeling at the moment. He paid no mind to it though, gesturing to the old-fashioned bathtub beside the toilet like an invitation to take a seat.

Screw Shownu; it was like he was mocking her! Remembering his words and how he acted upon their first meeting- the one she could remember- at the Safe House, she figured that was exactly what he was doing. It was all in good fun though, a jest that carried a hint of playful fondness underneath it, unlike Wonho’s sharp remarks. So she bites her tongue, closes the door gently behind them, and perches herself on the edge of porcelain tub as Shownu cracks open his drink.

“So,” he says, watching her closely as she also opens and takes a sip of her own alcoholic beverage, “tell me about yourself.”

She sputters at the awkward, painfully cliché icebreaker, nearly choking on the liquid she hasn’t yet swallowed. She isn’t entirely surprised though, only Shownu would ask something like that and mean it seriously.

“Like what?” she decides to humor him once the coughing stops.

He thinks for a moment and choses to go with another classic. “What’s your favorite color?”

Daeun’s torn between laughing and banging her head against a wall. While it’s true that Shownu is probably the one in the group that she has had the least amount of quality conversation and consistent contact with, aside from newbie Jooheon who mostly avoids talk with everyone, she thought that they interacted with each other well enough so far that they could skip the awkward get-to-know-you phase. Stuck in the situation now, she might as well answer him.

“Blue,” Daeun responds without much thought.

“Well that’s ironic,” Shownu comments with a wry smile. She had ranted on and on about Wonho enough, always making fun of the older boy for his hairstyle, that he would have thought she hated the color. Her brown eyes widen as if she has just realized this as well.

“I mean, uh, black!” she blurts out, hurriedly spouting excuses in a rush to cover up her mistake and recover from her careless blunder. For a second, she had forgotten who she now associated with the color. What a shame it was; blue really was her favorite color, and it had been since she was little- she would just have to give the a piece of her mind later for ruining it. Desperate to change the topic and distract her companion, anything to stop him from staring at her like that with those stupid raised eyebrows of his, implying absurd things, she asks him the same question back.

“Silver,” he answers softly. He’s staring at her again, that same look in his dark brown eyes that she can never place. It makes her uncomfortable.

“What’s your favorite animal?” she throws a stereotypical question of her own his way, intent on getting him to stop looking at her again, although this time the expression on his face is different and so are her reasons.

“Seagulls,” he responds almost immediately, a small smile forming on his face.

“Mine too,” she quickly looks away from him and downs a bit more of her drink than before. She’s surprised at the coincidence, and also a little suspicious. It’s not the most common animal to pick, and it’s hardly anyone’s favorite; it’s certainly no cat or dog or horse or bear, that’s for sure. She used to be made fun of for it back in high school- not anything serious, just some harmless teasing that would set off her sometimes-short temper because her few friends genuinely couldn’t understand her apparent fascination with the annoying flying bird. She recalls, vaguely, Shownu having mentioned that she expressed her fondness for them while drunk, and it makes her wonder if the bird truly is his favorite or if he’s just trying to get on her good side. Or maybe he’s making fun of her again, since subtly teasing her seems to be one of his favorite pastimes, just like Minhyuk’s is getting on Kihyun and Hyungwon’s nerves and Wonho’s is pissing her off. Now that she thinks about it, a lot of their hobbies may be borderline sadistic- in a close friendship way of course.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Shownu breaks the short silence that had befell. His voice is a little more serious this time, flatter in tone. She looks over at him again, recognizing this, but now it’s him who won’t meet her eyes. “I’ve been curious as to why you just accepted becoming a Runner so easily. I have an idea- and don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you did. But none of the others came along that willingly.” Besides Wonho, he finishes silently, but he doesn’t want her to know that. He’s surprisingly not all that worried about upsetting her by mentioning his name; instead, the desire to keep quiet about the comparison is more about his feelings than hers. He doesn’t like that there are similarities between the two, even in the most ambiguous of concepts, something that everyone in their group has picked up on, even if they don’t say it out loud. He doesn’t want her to end up like Wonho. More than that, a part of him is jealous, and he hates the feeling, hates that he cares this much- maybe Wonho was right, he has been going soft.

It takes a minute for Daeun to reply, thrown off by the abruptly somber question. She thinks about it, but can’t find any clear, concrete answer to give him. Instead, the only reason she can think of is the only reason behind any of her actions thus far in her life- a muddled mix of impulsivity, adrenaline, the longing for something more, the love of the thrill, hazy curiosity, and a nagging sensation in the back of her mind, an echoing of “Why the hell not?” And that is exactly what she tells him. He blinks at first, but then laughs it off, the sound loud and genuine and Daeun thinks that she was right in her earlier assessment of him up on that tower of scaffolding- his laugh is incredibly nice to listen to.

“What about you?” she asks curiously. “Why did you become a Runner?” It’s something she’s often thought about and speculated, how and why the others became Runners and their group came to be. She’s been wanting to ask, but hasn’t gotten around to yet with all the excitement of her new life. As the leader and founder of their little Flight, she’s sure Shownu’s story is interesting, though something tells her he doesn’t exactly want to share it.

“Ah,” Shownu seems surprised that the question is turned around on him. His voice becomes quieter as his laughter fades and his smile dims. She can read the hesitance and reluctance on his face as clear as day, but she’s not one to apologize easily or take back things she’s said just because somebody else doesn’t like it.

“That’s not really my story to tell,” Shownu shifts around on his seat uneasily. He throws his drink back to avoid any prodding for a further explanation and tries to give her some imprecise, cryptic details in order to appease her, though they both know that it isn’t going to work.

“Most of my motivation was similar to yours,” he tells her. “The thrill, the rush, a certain knack for trouble. Another part of it was money. Another part, survival.” She doesn’t ask any more about his reasons, but that doesn’t mean she stops asking questions completely.

“What about those people we faced in the Marathon? To bring weapons, they must really hate you guys.” Wonho must have done something really bad to piss them off that much, she thinks, but once again, his name isn’t actually spoken, even if they both know it’s there, hangin