"Here you go," the bartender announced as he took away the empty glass and replaced it with a full one.

The man glanced down at the glass of alcohol displayed before him.  "Thanks but I can't."

The bartender frowned.  "I've already poured it, not taking it back," he said, pushing the glass closer towards the man.  "Can't let it go to waste now."

"I only came here to visit you like you asked," the man reminded him.  "Besides, I can't be late tomorrow."

The bartender's eyes lit up.  "Ah, that's right.  I almost forgot.  It's your first day tomorrow, even the more reason to celebrate."

The man gave the bartender a look and shook his head.

"Oh come on, I know you," said the bartender.  "A couple of drinks is not going to do anything to you."

Letting out a sigh, the man finally gave up.  He picked up the glass and drank it in one go.

The bartender smiled, pleased with himself.  "I'll get you another one."

"Hey wait," said the man, trying to stop the bartender.

"Oh look out," said the bartender when he noticed a figure approaching the man from behind.  "Here comes fun."

Wondering what the bartender meant, the man turned around only to find himself face to face with a stranger.  Their faces were so close that he could smell the strong alcohol from the stranger staring back at him.  The man had to lean back to create some distance between them.  It was only then that he recognised the face of the young man who had kissed him earlier.

The young man flashed him a smile.  "I love you."

The bartender's eyes widened with surprise when he heard those words.  He looked at the man to see his reaction but the man remained stoic.  "That's a first!" exclaimed the bartender.  "It must be your lucky night!"

The man glanced at the bartender who flashed him a huge grin.  It seemed the bartender was enjoying this.  The man glanced back at the young man standing in front of him.  His eyes shifted to the young man's friends who were all watching them from their table.  Still playing this game? he thought.

"Do you love me?" the young man asked with glazed eyes.

The man cast his eyes back at the young man in front of him.  Was he suppose to answer him?  Was that the dare?  What do you do in situations like this?  "I-"

Before the man had a chance to finish his sentence, the young man lunged forward towards him.  The man tried to move back, but his back hit the bar counter.  There was nowhere for him to escape.  The young man leaned against his chest while he remained standing still.  The next thing he knew, he felt something wet against his chest.  He immediately held the young man's shoulders and pushed him back to create a gap between them.  Upon seeing the young man passed out, the man gripped his shoulders to keep him from falling over.  The man then looked down at his chest and saw vomit covering the front of his shirt.

The bartender tried to hold back his laughter.  He found the whole situation hilarious.

"Wait!  Don't move.  Let me take a photo," said the bartender as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket and began snapping shots.

The man sighed in frustration.  "Can I get some help here please?"

After taking several more shots, the bartender finally put away his phone.  "Right.  Sorry, my bad."

After seeing the young man passed out, one of his friends at the table ran over to the bar.  He looked at his friend in the arms of the man then glanced at the man's vomit covered shirt.

"I'm sorry, he's had a bit too much to drink," said the friend.

"I can see that," replied the man, looking rather calm.

"I'll pay for your shirt," the friend stated as he took out his wallet.

"Better yet, why don't you give him your number?" the bartender chimed in, sheepishly.  "And while you're at it, your drunk friend's number too."

The man turned to look at the bartender and gave him a disapproving look.

The bartender shrugged.  "What if they run away?  How are you going to find them to pay for your shirt?"

The man let out a sigh before turning back to face the young man.  "It's fine," he said as he handed the drunken young man over to his friend.  "Look after him."

He watched as the friend helped the passed out young man back to the table.

"Well, aren't you Mr nice guy?" the bartender teased.  "If that was me spewing all over your shirt, I doubt you'd be that civil about it."

The man turned back to look at the bartender who handed him a towel.  "They look young," he said, choosing to ignore the bartender's comment.

"Everyone's young compared to you," joked the bartender.

The noisy classroom quietened down the moment the teacher stepped into the classroom.  The students looked surprised and confused when they saw the unfamiliar man with black rimmed glasses and neatly dressed in a shirt and tie standing at the front of the room in place of their teacher.

"Good morning everyone," said the man.  "Your teacher Mr Park had to take urgent leave.  My name is Mr Kim.  I will be be taking over his class until he returns."

All the students seemed happy to have a substitute teacher.  All, except for the group of boys sitting in the back row.  The look of horror on their faces when they recognised the man standing there.  One of the boys quickly nudged his friend who had his head on the table and seemed to be sleeping.

"What?" the annoyed boy groaned as he reluctantly sat up.

"Look who our substitute teacher is," said his friend.

"Who?" the boy asked as he focused his eyes to the figure standing at the front of the room.  "Who's that?"

His friend looked at him in disbelief.  "You don't remember?"

The boy shrugged nonchalantly.

His friend sighed.  "You kissed him, told him you loved him and then threw up all over him."

Mr Kim glanced at the students in his class, his eyes stopping on a group of boys in the back row.  So they were underage after all.