All she had wanted to do was dance. It wasn’t that she was unable to (she was at a club after all) but her friends had vaguely abandoned her as they found people to dance with, so she was alone, sober, and kind of uncomfortable.

About twenty minutes previously she had noticed that people were looking at her. She didn’t know who they were, didn’t really know where they were (she could just feel eyes on her). That last bit was kind of a lie. She had been looking around the club and had seen people up in the balcony areas, just looking down at everyone. It was a different feeling than just being seen casually, it was like people were actively trying to keep track of her.

‘Maybe it’s some of my friends, I think some of them went up…’  She really had no idea where they could be, or why she was even still there – because you can’t just leave them here without letting them know – ‘I hate my conscience.’

She wanders over to the large stairwell that leads up to a part of the balcony and looks up the stairs. In truth, she was rather afraid of going up there, especially alone. It hadn’t looked like there were a lot of people up there, and it gave off the feeling that you weren’t allowed up there unless asked.

She backs away slowly, deciding that she wasn’t at all certain that her friends were up there in the first place – you don’t know where they are, they very well could be – and turns to head back into the crush of people.

‘Who knows, maybe I’ll bump into one of them and let them know that I’m done being here’ as she makes her way back (not that she was really that far from all of the people) she is stopped by a man who had tried to ‘dance’ with her at least three times – oh good, maybe you should have just gone up the stairs – ‘you’re really unhelpful right now.’

She tries to just walk around him, but he puts his hand on her arm and pulls her closer, “Lost?” he asks. His voice doesn’t sound too menacing, though the loud music and accent make it difficult to really completely understand him.

She shakes her head, “no, just looking for someone” she says, trying to sound nonchalant – because everyone has normal conversations with strange men who are holding you by the arm – as she slowly pulls her arm away from him in the hopes that he will let it go.

He doesn’t, instead he his head to the side and says: “let’s go upstairs, I think that you will like the view.”

The girl shakes her head no, but the guy is no longer looking at her as he pulls her slowly toward the staircase – A rational person would shake their head no with much more force and conviction – and then up the wide steps. When they reach the top he moves her further down the balcony and then stops.

“Maybe you can see your friends from up here” he says, gesturing his hand out over the crowd from the edge of the balcony.

She looks briefly in the direction that he gestures toward and gives an almost imperceptible nod – wow, firing on all cylinders I see – she felt suddenly unable to function normally, there was something so uncomfortable about being up here that she was unable to react normally; ‘I feel like I’m being watched, again.’

“You can stay here and look-“ he says something more but she has a hard time understanding him; the music is not much quieter up here, and she still has trouble understanding him through his accent.

Before she can even fully process what he has said, he walks away, back toward the stairs and small seating area. She’s left standing in the middle of the balcony, her hand moves of its own accord to grip the banister, and she moves closer to it.

‘Maybe if I look out over the edge I can find my friends, and I won’t look awkward standing up here all alone’ –yeah, and pigs can fly – she rolls her eyes at the insanity of her current situation, and turns her body so that she is fully facing the railing and can look out at the people.

She definitely doesn’t see her friends, and she wonders briefly if it’s just her, or if it is really just difficult to see specific people from up there. She decides that it must just be her, mostly because otherwise what would be the point of leaning over and looking? She is shaken from her reverie when someone taps on her shoulder, and tries to school her features so that her absolute terror doesn’t show too obviously as she turns around.

The guy who had tapped on her shoulder was around her age, and – Oh God, you know that face – it was DaeSung from Big Bang. She again had to check herself so that her face didn’t betray anything, “yes?” she says quietly.

He smiles at her; a bright, big, beautiful (alliterative) smile, “I love watching the dance floor.”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she smiles back at him, and he motions for her to follow him further down the balcony – you have a following issue, do you know how to say ‘no’? – when they stop he focuses her attention out over the crowd, “I think I saw you down there, in front of the stage?” He was both asking and telling, and though it was difficult to understand him, she was able to pick up on that.

“Yes, I was there earlier” because, why lie to him?

He smiles at her, “I’m DaeSung! You should come over and sit with us!” His enthusiasm is contagious – but you know better than to go places with strangers who admit to having been watching you, right? – and she follows against her better judgment – It’s like you don’t even tryto listen to me.

“Um, I –“ she tries, but it’s like he knows she is going to refuse; instead of waiting for her to finish speaking, he just pulls her along behind him to a small table surrounded by couches. Sitting on these couches were exactly three other people; though it was dark, she could make out that the only missing member was T.O.P.

“Look! I made a friend!” DaeSung exclaims, dragging her forward so that she was standing directly next to him. She smiles and looks absolutely anywhere but at them, silently wishing that this torturous night would just end.

G-Dragon smiles slowly and stands up, pulling Seungri with him. He bows politely and moves closer, making sure to catch her eyes. After what feels like an eternity (to her) he breaks the eye contact and smiles a little brighter; “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry to run off, but Seungri and I need to get drinks.”

She nods mutely and watches with mild confusion as they walk away. DaeSung puts his hand on her back and starts to direct her, “Sit here, I will be right back!” Even more confused than previously, she allows herself to be pushed gently onto the couch, directly next to TaeYang.

As DaeSung walks away, she turns to TaeYang and tips her head to the side – I’m glad we agree about how odd this whole situation is, finally – hoping beyond hope that he will just understand her confusion, and maybe even let her leave.

He smiles a little bashfully, and leans in so that when he speaks she will be able to hear him; “I’m sorry about them.”

She shakes her head, “Why?”

“They got you dragged up here because I pointed you out earlier while we were looking out at the crowd” He looks down, his face turning red, “They thought that, maybe, if you got up here and met me you would…I dunno.”

The bright red that his face had become made him look ridiculously adorable, and she couldn’t help but feel simultaneously bad for him and rather excited for herself. She knew what it was like to have interfering friends, and he just seemed like such a sweet guy…- I’m not even going to try with you anymore – the fact that the voice inside her head had given up on her was momentarily disheartening, but then she realized that she would rather that than have it have a total change of heart and encourage her in this type of situation.

She smiles at him, and leans in so that she can see his face, “I would what?”

Without turning, and with a slight shrug, he says: “give me a chance?”

Oh yeah, he had her, and she couldn’t even be upset with the fact that it had been so easy. He didn’t turn until she had been silent for over ten seconds, but when he did, he wasn’t disappointed.

“Of course I’ll give you a chance” she says, shrugging her shoulders and smiling brightly.

Maybe tonight wasn’t such a waste after all. I mean, who needs to dance?