“Guys,” Seulgi slurred, throwing her arms around Minhee and Bora’s necks. “I am so glad that I met you both.”

              Minhee and Bora, standing on either side of the shorter girl between them, exchanged looks of exasperation. They had not even begun to make their way towards the dance, and Seulgi was already trashed. The girl was swaying precariously on her incredibly high heels, her purse held high over her head with one hand and the other one was busy stuffing her phone into her bra.

              The other two girls, in contrast, were mildly tipsy, but completely functional. By all means, Minhee had every intention of getting drunk (the flask was at the bottom of her clutch), but Seulgi was hopeless. There was no way that the girl was going to make it.

              “Let’s go!” Seulgi exclaimed, throwing her arms in excitement and dropping her purse and phone. Cursing good-naturedly, she slowly got down on her knees and began to fumble around with picking her belongings back up.

              “I don’t think we can take her like this,” Bora whispered to Minhee. For once, Minhee agreed.

              “Should we call it a night in, then?” Minhee whispered back. “We can always hit up a club or something tomorrow.”

              “I have plenty of beer in the fridge,” Bora lifted Seulgi up by her underarms and began physically dragging the girl back to the couch. “Let’s get you lying on your side, girl.”

              “No need for beer,” Minhee dug her flask out of her bag. “I’ve got myself covered. The rest is in my overnight bag.”

              “But aren’t we going dancing?” Seulgi mumbled, her head too heavy to lift. “I wanna party.”

              “Minhee, you shady lady,” Bora raised her eyebrow. “You said you didn’t want to get drunk tonight.”

              “Yeah,” Seulgi drawled. “Party pooper!”

              “Eh,” Minhee took a swig, cringing as she felt the liquid run down . “I lied.”

              “I have juice and sodas in the fridge,” Bora had Seulgi halfway on the cushions, but the girl’s body kept sliding back down onto the floor. “Don’t be gross and drink that straight.”

              “You’re right,” Minhee was still puckering from her swig, and she made her way towards the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. “You’re so right.”

              “Make me one!”

              “I’m so drunk,” Minhee buried her head in her hands. “Don’t look at me, I know my makeup is smeared.”

              Bora looked up from where she was slumped across from her in a kitchen chair. The kitchen counter was littered with beer cans, orange juice cartons, and various bowls of half-eaten cereals. “I can’t believe you ate two boxes of cereal.”

              “Oh ,” Minhee moaned. “I’m going to hate myself tomorrow.”

              Both paused, but the silence was broken when both burst into raucous cackling.

              “I think I’m going to be sick,” Minhee mused when the laughter died down. “Yeah. I’m definitely going to be sick.”

              “Toilet. Now,” Bora may have been drunk, but even inebriated she loved her clean floors more than anything else. “Don’t you dare puke.”

              “Going now,” Minhee stumbled onto her feet, almost losing her balance. “The floor is moving so fast.”

              The girl stumbled her way to the toilet, and it wasn’t two minutes later when the vomit came. And again. , Minhee leaned her warm cheeks against the cold porcelain of the floor. The room seemed to be spinning around her, and she immediately regretted drinking so much.

              Cool fingers gently pulled her upright from under her arms and helped her lean her weight against the toilet bowl. The hands brushed her hair away from her face and neck and drew the strands into a loose ponytail in the fingers’ grip. Minhee moaned again, but was cut off by a bout of retching.

              “Minho, don’t look at me,” Minhee choked out in between heaves. “I look horrible.”

              The person Minhee assumed was Minho said nothing; he just held her hair silently. A familiar hand gently rubbed circles down her back, and Minhee closed her eyes, letting herself relax under his touch. She felt a little bit better with her eyes shut.

              “I am so sorry you had to see me like this,” Minhee mumbled. “I’m so drunk.”

              Her stomach convulsed again, and Minhee was over the toilet, again. Her stomach heaved and forced all of its contents out through . A glass of water was placed on the counter next to her, and Minhee gratefully drank.

              Letting herself relax, Minhee leaned back into the body of the boy behind and closed her eyes, again. Feeling completely empty but still very intoxicated, she let the warmth of the person behind her sink into her.

              “Thank you for coming, Minho,” Minhee knew she must look awful; her forehead was damp with perspiration, and her makeup was undoubtedly smudged down her cheeks.

              Their hands met somewhere by her side, and Minhee did not open her eyes as his fingers twined in and out from between hers. A perfect fit. She let him play with her fingers; it felt nice.

              “I’m only saying this because I’m drunk,” Minhee whispered. “But I really like you, Minho. You’re perfect.”

              The body behind hers tensed, and the hands around hers gripped tightly.

              Minhee pulled one hand free and hit her chest. “It hurts in here. I want to fix me. I want you to be the one in here. So wait a bit longer, okay?”

              The arms supporting her gently lifted her up, placing her up against the toilet, once more. Minhee let out a noise of protest, and grabbed on to what she assumed was Minho’s wrist.

              “Okay?”

              No response. Minhee gripped harder. “Please. Catch me when I fall for you, okay?”

              “Okay,” came a small whisper, and her arm was pried loose. “Okay.”

              Black out.

            The light of the bathroom floor was blinding, and Minhee blinked painfully as she sat up. Her reflection was the first thing she saw.

            “Oh my God.”

            Her hair was a stringy rat’s nest, and her mascara and eye shadow had smeared at some point. She bore much resemblance to a raccoon. Her loose top was pulled down her shoulders and revealed much of her bra that had a bit too much lace to be comfortable. She was missing an earring.

            “You look awful,” Bora was leaning against the bathroom door frame, not looking much better off. Her friend handed her a mug that Minhee identified to be coffee.

            “Bless you,” Minhee took a large swig.

            “You were more trashed than Seulgi last night,” Bora remarked, passing Minhee a pair of sunglasses. “I was worried that I would have to call Minho and get you to the hospital.”

           “Please,” Minhee scoffed. “You were passed out in the kitchen last night, too.”

           Shrugging, Bora pushed her way into the room and grabbed a tooth brush. “At least I didn’t puke my guts up last night.”

           Minhee shot her best friend a dirty look and decided to change the subject. “I am still super bummed that we missed the dance thing last night.”

           Snorting so hard that she nearly shot toothpaste through her nose, Bora spat out the contents in into the sink. “I’m not. It looked dumb.”

           Wounded, Minhee sat on the toilet in a huff. “If it hadn’t been for Seulgi, we would have had a great time.”

           Bora didn’t respond as she was busy rummaging for mouth wash and an extra tooth brush for Minhee, which she tossed to her over her shoulder.

           “Speaking of Seulgi,” Minhee looked around in confusion. “Where is she?”

          Bora looked like she swallowed a lemon. “She texted Chanyeol to come get her. He came in and picked her up in the wee hours sometime last night.”

           A sudden realization, and for the second time in ten minutes: "Oh my God."