The sound of a mad roaring motor stirred Dara’s sleep and she slowly opened her heavy lids. Sun rays pass through the glass of the window inside her room as she blinks her eyes to adjust her vision. 

Feeling a sudden throb on the side of her head, she closed her eyes once again and let out a loud groan. Clutching her head, she dragged her body off the mattress and blew a heavy sigh.

“Hangover,” she thought, hating the fact that she downed alcohol more than her body can take last night. She has a really low alcohol tolerance and she was proven right yet again.

Now, she can’t grasp of what happened last night. She cannot even remember a thing aside from Bom, trying to grab her drunk to the dance floor but she refused, and stayed at the VIP room with Minji instead for more drinks.

‘Let’s not put all these bucks to waste,’ she remembered uttering before downing everything her hands can hold. And to summarize last night’s events, she was the one who ended up wasted as proven by her sorry morning state.

Dara reached out for her phone lying screen down on the floor, and looked at the time; 11:02AM. That explains the heavy revving of the motor from the neighborhood on a Sunday morning, err, noon.

She scrolled through her phone and cannot help but to flinch at every messages she read from her friends. As if backing up her conclusion of last night’s events, there were her best friends, officially banning her from alcohol. 

“Good. I’ll be the appetizer monster on the next clubbing sessions, that’s better.”

With another sigh, she responded on their group chat with a picture of a cat captioned as ‘I’m sorry. Does the cute cat help?’

It was the best picture to describe her remorse, anyway.

Dragging her body off the bed while still wearing the dress from last night, she exited her room and went to the kitchen.

Chaerin: Oh, you drunktard. Do you remember what you did last night?
Dara: I can’t remember anything after you left for the dance floor. What happened after?
Bom: Oh, you just ed up. BIG TIME.
Dara: Fill me in with the details, please.
Minji: You better apologize to Jiyong.

Putting down the empty glass of water on top of the table, Dara swallowed and frowned reading Minji’s response. “Jiyong… Who?”

Dara: Jiyong? Who is Jiyong?
Bom: Oh, shoot. After you went on a full vomit bonanza last night, you can’t remember a certain poor soul, a.k.a Jiyong?
Minji: Take note, THE Kwon Jiyong.
Dara: Alright, I’m sorry. I know I messed up.
Bom: You surely did!
Dara: Right. And I know I have to apologize to this Jiyong you are talking about. But, why do you have to put emphasis on his name like he is some known personality?
Chaerin: Because he really is a known personality, you dimwit!

Still frowning, Dara decided to fix herself a brunch while waiting for anyone of her friends’ response, and give light to all her confusion. 

If he is some famous artist, she wouldn’t know. Aside from the fact that she was probably too drunk to remember, which was absolutely right, she doesn’t keep a tab on the entertainment business happenings. 

It was Minji who responded. She almost dropped the egg she was holding when she read her caption on the picture of a man who exudes a lot of charisma she couldn’t even believe she was able to encounter just the other night.

Minji: He is the famous composer, Kwon Jiyong. He had been to various known magazines as their cover model, guested on television shows to personally promote artists he worked with, tagged as a fashion icon and even worked with Bom, and the list goes on.

“Great!” She thought, mouth agape reading this information.

Chaerin: And you don’t know who he is?
Dara: Uhm. I was drunk?
Chaerin: You could have atleast know him with just the mention of his name. Have you been residing under the sea all this time, Ariel?
Dara: Apparently, I lived under bikini bottom under Patrick Starfish’s home.
Minji: Figures.
Dara: This is embarrassing. How do I apologize?
Chaerin: I don’t know? Start a vigil, maybe, and pray for the Heavens to give you a way to contact him.
Minji: If the Heavens would actually want you to be in contact with the poor soul.
Dara: I’m screwed.
Bom: Again, BIG TIME. But don’t worry, the Heavens wants your to get the D eventhough she hates you for making a history out of her birthday celebration.

A spark of hope shines through Dara after reading her best friend’s message.

Bom: Did I mention, Park Bom is the Heavens’ name?
Dara: Oh, thank God for Heavens!

Dara has been pacing back and forth on her small living room after Bom gave her Jiyong’s number. She’s been having an internal battle whether to send him a message and just get this over with, or completely forget everything. It was one incident, and surely, there would be no more next time, right?

But with the fact that he knows Bom personally, she doesn’t want to give him the idea that she’s actually friends with the biggest idiot alive also known as Park Sandara.

Halting on her steps, she swallowed the lump of saliva on . Or, was that her brunch?

Shaking her head, she sighed and opened her message home, created a new message and typed in his contact information. “Let’s just get this over with.”

To: THE Kwon Jiyong
Message: Good day, Mr. Kwon.
Message: This is Park Sandara, Park Bom’s friend from last night’s party at Club Octagon. The last person you probably want to talk with, and an existence you probably want to get rid off for good.
Message: But before you do that, let me apologize first for the misfortunes happened to you last night. First of all, my actions do not reflect my friend’s, Park Bom, behaviour at all. It was on me, and me alone. Second, I know I did the gravest mistake of vomiting at you and I’m really, really, really sorry for that. Third, you can erase my existence now. Thank you.
Message: And again, I’m r