A/N:

Hey guys! I've finally decided not to be lazy and get chapter two finished. I've noticed when people post stories on here, they tend to put up chapters like machines! So intimidating! >.< You guys are amazing. <3

But anyway, I hope you get a few laughs with this one. Definitely less angsty than the last chapter. I hope this story has been easy to follow so far; if not, send feedback (that's what we want!)

<3

-Raeven

chapter two;

The colorful paper attachments clipped on our stainless steel refrigerator (which is massive, might I add) led us to the location of these runaways. Mrs. Chano made sure to have the essential contact numbers plastered all over the fridge. The freezer door left no room for any further decorations because of it. One of the phone numbers was of a limo service she wanted me to use with the boys during events, but it would also be their transportation until their van was ready.

Calling the number led Neve and I to a nightclub called Levelz, in which Manuel—Mrs. Chano’s appointed designated driver—had dropped the boys off an hour ago.

Neve drives us in her car to Levelz after we throw on something more club-friendly. Personally, I’ve found that most of our wardrobes are dressy enough to fit a club-scene, but I don’t feel that way today since I had to rush out the door. I’m not used to being ready within 10 minute’s time. I’d rather have an hour to get ready.

But our decision to dress up proves successful when we arrive and that Jaebum guy makes eyes at us, even before we’re out of the car. The club’s along the shore of South Miami Beach, and as we idle past to find a parking space, he’s watching us from the patio right outside the building.

“Aw great, he already knows what we’re up to.” Neve hisses to me while we sit in the car. I fix my bangs and reach over to smooth down my sister’s cowlick.

“Nah, I think he was just checking us out.” I say, checking my eyeliner.

“Ew.” Neve adds, scrunching up her nose, then we both laugh.

“What was that?” I ask, surprised, and almost embarrassed to think I found him to be more than attractive just then. What was wrong with him? Was my taste off? “He’s definitely not ugly.” I defend quietly.

“Oh no, it’s not that he’s unattractive, it’s just that—guys are frikkin’ animals. Isn’t he supposed to not want us here?”

“Maybe he didn’t recognize us.” I suggest.

“Just thought we were two y women in an even ier black car?” Neve mused, trailing her fingers along her steering wheel.

“Sure.” I say, giggling and stepping out of the car. Neve adores her car. She was finally able to afford the new Elantra she’d been wanting since she’d graduated college, finally trading in the old and tiny Accent she’d had for like 7 years. I can’t deny it makes me feel cool when I ride in it.

We stand tall in heels, and the bouncer lets us in after a show of IDs. Ladies get in free tonight, thank God. A side glance toward Jaebum reveals he’s still looking at us.

“Ey, come ‘ere.” He says; his voice breaks gently through the heavy bass inside the club and it takes quite a bit of my will not to forget that this guy isn’t just a good-looking stranger, but someone I’m supposed to recognize as a completely irritating jerk.

But, man, it’s hard. The atmosphere of this club—or any club for this matter—can sure alter moods. My eyes continue to follow him and he briefly looks me up and down, a corner of his lips, and smirks before I lose him when I go inside. Neve touches my arm and tells me she’s going to scope out the others and I nod. I guess she’s gonna let me take on the beast, I think. I walk toward the patio feeling strangely confident of our strategy.

You didn’t think we came here without a game plan, did you? In order to rally these men back home, we needed to be the good guys, not that I ever didn’t want to be. But it took me a real session of cooling down to even consider Neve’s plan to begin with. And now that we’re here, it feels easier to make the best of it. Maybe it’s just because there’s some really good music blasting and everyone’s having a good time, I haven’t figured that out yet. I don’t get out much.  

I stand a good distance from Jaebum when I meet him outside. He looks pleased (and he looks good, but that’s beside the point) and he saunters over to me with a glass of who-knows-what in his hand. Immediately, I’m staring at his shirt; I’m staring at his whole ensemble actually, but his shirt’s the first thing I look at because it’s a dark grey button-down, and the buttons are down, showcasing an unreal pack of abs. And the sleeves of the grey leather jacket he’s wearing cuts off at his toned biceps. All of it comes together with nicely fitted khakis that are rolled up at the ankles and some broken-in black boots. I have a weakness for well-dressed men.

When he’s not even a foot away from me, he’s still looking at me like he’s ready to offer to buy me a drink. Do I really look that different with a cocktail dress on and some eyeliner?

But that’s when I notice the little sway in his step and his cunning eyes are glazed over. He downs the rest of whatever he has in his glass.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He offers in a slick voice.

“Ladies drink for free tonight.” I say, laughing a little. I decide to play along for a little while and raise my eyebrows at his drink. “What was in your glass?”

“Ah, just some Patrone. The good stuff.” He slurs, raising his glass. He’s blinking sleepily at me.

“You can’t handle that stuff.” I say teasingly, while I’m having a full-blown panic attack internally. I’m just hoping this boy is fully functional in the morning for the meeting.  

“What’chu mean? You can’t handle it. C’mon, lemme get you a drink.” He says, chuckling slowly. He leans unsteadily toward me and snakes his arm around my waist, trying to lead me toward the bar. I’m completely caught off guard. The same guy I encountered at my apartment not wanting anything to do with me wanted to get me a drink. This isn't right!

So I simply reasoned that Jaebum was a happy and a handsy drunk, as he gives the side of my waist a few taps with his fingers, and a few possessive squeezes, like he’s showing off his prize to the bystanders. We do make a good scene, except for the dramatic height difference made worse with my heels. A few steps in, I wriggle out of his grasp when his touch gives me thoughts I’m not allowed to have right now. But somehow, his hands come in contact with my skin no matter how many times I push them away. And all with those clever-looking cat-like eyes.

“Hey you, why are you—look at you, you’re so gone, you don’t even know who I am.” I tell him, crossing my arms so he doesn’t feel compelled to touch me again.

“Yeah, I do. You’re the housekeeper that works in my apartment.” He says, so casually I resist the urge to slap him. It’s a close enough answer though, as ist as it is. Why he’d want to hit on his housekeeper in the club makes no sense to me, considering our situation, but he’s drunk, so I don’t expect him to make sense.

I sit with him at the bar and let him satisfy himself with the duty of getting me a drink, even though it’s still free, and tell myself I’ll come out of this with some great blackmail.

___

Neve finds Junho easily. He’s practically standing in the middle of the dance floor, but he’s the only one who isn’t dancing. He’s taking generous sips of the glass in his hand and nods his head to the music. When he sees Neve suddenly standing in front of him, waving and smiling, his expression goes from a deer caught in the headlights to completely high on life in a matter of 2 seconds flat. He bows toward Neve a few times while she waves the gesture awkwardly away. Neve had met the boys before her sister earlier that day. They’d had a much more pleasant introduction to Neve than they had with Sancha, but Neve tended to always be the more personable one.

“Why are you here?” Junho yells past the noise in his thick accent, smiling from ear to ear. He seems generally amused with the fact that the first American he’s met has shown up at the same club he’s at.

“Oh my sister and I just wanted to go out.” Neve says, and she watches Junho’s smile drop at the mention of her sister, connecting the dots.

“We have to leave?” He asks, looking as disappointed as a child in the ball pit of a playhouse. Neve is glad she doesn’t have to say yes, just for the simple reason of taking away his happiness.

“I don’t see why we can’t stay for a while.” She says, smiling at him. He beams at her and downs the last of his drink effortlessly. Neve cringes, hoping she and Sancha hasn’t made the wrong decision.

Taecyeon appears next to Junho with two bottles of beer in his hand and he unceremoniously switches his empty glass with one of Taecyeon’s bottles. Taecyeon flashes a smile at Neve and Junho slings his arm around Neve’s neck, bringing the bottle of beer to her lips.

“You want some drink?” He offers, already tipping the bottle.

“I’m ok, thank you.” She says, smiling all the while and pushing the bottle away. Junho looks flabbergasted.

“What, no drink?”

“No drink.”

“Wow, you’re—crazy!” Junho says, after finding the right word in his limited English vocabulary. Taecyeon tries to laugh off the awkwardness when he sees the look on Neve’s face.

“Hi, Taecyeon.” She says, acknowledging him. His eyes widen a bit at the clarity of his name. Pearly whites flash toward her yet again.

“You remembered my name?” He asks, flattered. He was referring to the first time they had met earlier that day, when he and the boys had thought she was just a friendly neighbor helping them move in. When she mentioned her sister would be arriving later, they just thought she would be coming to help too. But now it all made sense.

“Of course! You’re names are kind of hard, so it made me work hard to remember them.” She says.

“You can just call me Taec, then.” Taecyeon says proudly, taking on a deeper voice. He always wanted someone to give him that nickname. The others—Jaebum especially—constantly made fun of him for suggesting that nickname to them.

“That’s clever, I like that! It’s funny.” Neve says, repeating the name to herself. Taecyeon always thought the name was pretty manly, but he takes what he can get.

“You know my name?” Junho asks Neve, raising his eyebrows up and down like it’s a game.

“It’s Junho, right?”

“Whoo, okay, let’s dance!” He says, suddenly linking arms with both Taecyeon and Neve to the center of the dance floor. The song merges into a popular club jam and everyone goes wild, including Neve, who doesn’t care to humiliate herself even though she can’t dance in order to move to the beat of the song.

She, Taecyeon, and Junho fist pump and mouth the words to the lyrics they know for a majority of the song before Neve begins to see the rest of the boys congregating around them. Nichkhun and Wooyoung move their bodies back in forth with empty shot glasses high in the air while Junsu and Chansung stand by, smiling and bobbing to the music, sipping from bottles of beer.

Neve catches Sancha somewhere in the crowd of people with Jaebum closely next to her. They’re both bobbing to music and then he’s coaxing her to dance with him, but when she obliges, they all realize it’s a big mistake.

____

Who said dancing with someone meant doing the dougie, the cat daddy, the shuffle, and all these other independent moves after practically begging me to dance? Now, Jaebum has just proved himself he can dance, and that he can dance very well, but the moment he got on the floor, it was like a record screeched somewhere.

Ironically enough, the scene he was trying to create with his previous moves has nothing on the attention he’s attracting now. I shield my eyes for a second, unable to bear another glance at Jaebum’s lame attempt at breakdancing. I take my phone out of my pocket book and snap a few pics of him.

A few people holler at him, but more of them are booing, and Jaebum’s too drunk to tell the difference. He just keeps trying to draw out letters with his body, or whatever breakdancers do. I see Neve and the others flocking toward him, but we all just stand there and pray he’ll stop soon.

“Someone get this fool off the dance floor!” Some genius calls from the crowd. But when he doesn’t stop, Nichkhun catches Jaebum by the arms when he finds a moment. Bless his heart.

“Come on, hyung, let’s get off the floor.” Nichkhun says, dusting Jaebum off when he’s standing.

“Aw, hey Nichkhun-ah—glad you decided to join us.” Jaebum slurs, awkwardly patting Nichkhun’s light brown hair.

“AOM!” He shouts, throwing up a weird hand sign toward the direction of the “hater”. Nichkhun hurries him away from the dance floor before a fight can happen. He and the rest of us leave the dance floor and stand at a clearing.

When Jaebum decides he doesn’t want to stand anymore, Taecyeon and Nichkhun lunge forward to catch their fallen leader before he embarrasses himself again. Man, I had him good tonight.

We all mutually decide we’ve had enough fun for the night to leave. Thanks to Jaebum’s low tolerance, we head toward the exit of the club. As we pass the bar, Jaebum’s hand reaches for an abandoned shot glass and puts it to his lips.

“No-no-no-no—,” Nichkhun says, taking the drink from Jaebum and knocking it back himself. He swallows without a hint of a wince and proceeds to lead Jaebum out of the club.

Manuel waits at the corner of the street outside of the club, and I suggest we eat at IHOP, my ploy to get something in their stomachs other than all that alcohol. No one turns down the mention of food, and I notice Chansung seems to be more excited about that than anyone else. I tell Neve I’ll ride in the limo with the boys while she follows us and I climb into the limo while the boys wrestle Jaebum into the vehicle.

He’s laughing sleepily like a maniac as he leans onto Wooyoung who can’t hold in his laughter either because he’s probably a little more than tipsy. He keeps saying “hyung” each time he catches a breath from laughing. They won’t keep their hands off each other once the limo’s moving. Wooyoung keeps opening Jaebum’s shirt, and I’m instantly reminded that Jaebum cannot enter a restaurant dressed like that.

“Jaebum, please button up your shirt.” I say. “You can’t go inside IHOP with an open shirt.”

His head pops up and I watch him as I sit in the front seat with Manuel through the rearview mirror. “Oh ho-ho, people at IHOP can’t handle my open shirt, huh?”

“Sure, whatever you want to believe.” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Alright, I’ll be good to them.” He says, then his hands fumble up and down his flat stomach before he actually finds the buttons of the shirt. After a few attempts, he frowns and then his hand sloppily reaches for Wooyoung. His hand ends up slapping Wooyoung’s poor face.

“Yah, Wooyoung, help your hyung here.”  

I just place my hand on my forehead for the rest of the way.

____

Eating at IHOP consisted of a mixture of events. I’d convinced at least half of the table to order waffles (thinking they’d be absorbent enough), which only meant Wooyoung, Chansung, Junsu, and Junho, who were all the native Koreans who knew nothing about eating waffles with forks and knives. They tried eating them with their hands after first mistaking them for European style waffles, but realized they weren’t as yummy, because ours have to be drowned in syrup to be good. All had been resolved though when our waitress offered to top them with fruit. Chansung was sold when he found out he could have bananas on his. Apparently, bananas were his favorite thing on the planet.

Slowly, Jaebum was coming back to his senses, but in place of it, he wouldn’t stay off of his phone, texting contacts on his phone as if they wanted to hear from him this late at night (or that early in the morning in Korea), and basically trying to give off the air that he was important.

Other than that, sitting down with them isn’t half bad. Nichkhun and Taecyeon relieved the cultural barriers whenever Junho, Chansung, Wooyoung, or Junsu said anything that seemed to random to understand, and we were able to score a few tangible conversations. But that didn’t mean everyone wasn’t at least tipsy.

When we’re finished eating and waiting for our check, an R. Kelly song begins to play on the radio. I’m exchanging looks with my sister, laughing, because places like IHOP don’t usually play slow jams. I notice some staff members are dancing and laughing with their co-workers, so I figure it’s their doing. I don’t expect Junsu to straighten up and say “Hey, I know this song!”

This boy stands up and wags his finger up and down as he hits notes I don’t expect him to hit, and then gets louder as he goes. “My mind’s tellin’ me nooo. . . but my body, my body—,”

“Sing it, baby!” A heavy-set black woman says from a table over. So Junsu feeds off the attention, looks at her, and sings more, adding extra notes to the song here and there that get a little out of hand, in my opinion, but the lady’s closing her eyes like she’s savoring something delicious.

“I don’t see nothin’ wrong—,” Junsu sings.

“I do.” Jaebum says under his breath and Taecyeon elbows Jaebum in the side. Jaebum chuckles and rubs at his side. “Agh, I’m just kidding!”

When Junsu’s done, his sits down, thank goodness, and just in time for the waitress to get back with the check. We leave IHOP after two long hours.

____

“Wooo! I’m in Miami, trick!” Jaebum sings as he and Junho flail half of their bodies out of the open sunroof. The boys had regained their hyperactivity and had demanded Manuel to turn on a radio station that played party jams.

With LMFAO now blasting in the limousine and at least 20 more minutes back home, Sancha doesn’t think she’ll be getting any sleep tonight. Not after she deals with her new assignment, these guys.

Reclining her seat in the front, she tries to snag some rest before they get home, trying not to think of how she is going to get seven boys presentable to CTW headquarters in the morning for such an important and groundbreaking meeting.