To say that I almost passed out when I found out that I never left the Exo mansion would be an understatement.

            From what I had heard from Dara, who liked so much that she decided to major in biology with a focus in gynecology, bedding the Exo boys was apparently very difficult.

            I was even more surprised that Chanyeol was an Exo frat boy.  He had seemed so nice, from the parts of the night that I could remember, at least.  From my experiences in America and the past two and a half years of my own college life, Frat boys were not usually the kindest of gentlemen.

            Finding my way out of the Exo mansion was next to impossible.  Locating a door that did not have an alarm that went off when it was opened or closed was especially difficult when you were trying your hardest to make the least amount of noise as possible. 

            My stealth level had reached James Bond, however I was not even remotely skilled enough to be one Bond’s frilly sidekicks.  I probably resembled more closely an elephant trying to hide under human sized furniture.  I did everything in my will to remain hidden.  I even resorted to army crawling past the kitchen due to the sounds of someone whistling and the smells of frying sausage coming from within it.

            The garage ended up acting as my exit.  Between admiring cars that were worth more than three of my houses back in Miami, and trying not to trip over tools littering the ground, I made it out a side door of the garage that was hidden behind a six foot tool box.

            Getting back home from this point was easy and much less stealthy.  I’d estimate that probably 70% of the student population had attended last night’s party, so hardly anyone was out and about on campus, except for those joining in on the Sunday morning walk of shame.

            Nonetheless, the four faded letters at the top of my college home at that moment felt like the appearance of a puddle in the desert.

            Myself and my four housemates lived in an old clubhouse.  Our Freshman year, the school did not have enough room in the dorms, so the five of us were stuck in the recently vacated DBSK clubhouse.  The two years following, no one bothered to move out.  No one wanted to.  The five of us had managed to form your stereotypical rag-tag group of friends who did not share much in common, but loved each other.

            The only downside of living in the old clubhouse was that most people assumed that we were clubhouse girls, when we were most definitely not.

            I performed a Usain Bolt-esque sprint up to my room as to not deal with the teasing from my housemates.

            My shower had never felt better.

            “Well, somebody had fun,” Kim Hyoyeon whistled as I made my appearance in the kitchen.  She chuckled to herself as she continued her work at the stove.

            “Shut up, you’re the one that dragged me to the party,” I grumbled, and sat down at the table.

            “Actually, it was our lovely Alice who did that.  I got to clean up your vomit.”

            Hyoyeon was almost the… “mother” of the house.  She hated that word, but it was incredibly true.  She knew all of our schedules, cooked all of our meals whenever she could (she claimed this was for practice as she was a culinary major), impulsively cleaned the house, and in general, she was my Unnie that liked to ensure everyone’s happiness.

            Out of all of my housemates, she was also my best friend.  Correction, out of all of my friends, she was the best one I had ever had.  We understood each other really well, and though I was not even remotely a “wild child” like Dara or Alice, Hyoyeon brought out the crazy in me.

            “Thanks for that again,” I murmured as she sat down with me at the table, handing me a steaming bowl of haejangguk – Korean hangover soup.

            Hyoyeon, I freaking love you.

            “So, did you have any intimate fun last night?” Hyoyeon coyly smiled and raised her eyebrows.

            “Yes,” I let out a barely audible mumble.

            “Star underwear, I assume.”

            “This conversation is over.”  Hyoyeon released a hoot of laughter at my burning cheeks.

            Hyoyeon, I freaking hate you.

            “Why didn’t you look for me when you were coming home?” I asked her sometime later in between bites of vegetables and beef broth.

            “You wouldn’t have been whisked off anywhere dangerous, only students can get into clubhouse parties.”

            This was true.  Each house, dorm, and building at Seoul University had identification locks that required the swiping of a school-issued ID card.  No creeper who wanted to prey upon college students could get onto campus, even if they tried.  And if you lost your ID card, you were basically screwed until you could get another one.

            “Plus,” Hyoyeon continued, “after spending probably twenty parties looking for Dara over the past two years, and having her turn up the next morning perfectly okay, I figured it was kind of pointless.”

            As if having heard her name called, at that moment, Sandara Park stumbled in through the front door, shirtless and shoeless, glaring at the two of us.

            “Not.  A. Word.”

            Hyoyeon and I erupted in laughter.

            “Why is it so ing bright outside? And why did I choose to take classes so ing early in the day?” Dara grumbled, adjusting the sunglasses shielding her eyes.

            “Unnie, its two in the afternoon,”

            “Shut up, Alice Carré!  Nobody ing asked you!”

            I snorted at my unnie and dongsaeng as we continued our walk to the main campus buildings for classes.  I was only a part of the “Awesome Afternoon Class Crew” – as named by Alice – on Mondays and Thursdays.  I had always preferred morning classes.

            “I also do not understand how either of you are remotely alive, when I’m about to pass out.  We all went to the same party two days ago, and we all had two days ago,” Dara grumbled.

            “Unnie, you try to drink alcohol like its water.  Hana-Unnie and I know how to control ourselves,” Alice smartly stated with a smile and flick of her natural wavy blonde hair.  My French housemate turned her hazel-brown eyes to me.  She frowned in distaste.

            “Hana-Unnie, you looked so nice at the party on Saturday, what happened?” I raised my eyebrows at her accusation.

            I did not choose to dress as I did for the party, Dara had all bet tied me to my bed to get me into that mess of an outfit.  Normally, I dressed in a “lazy” fashion as what Alice had criticized in the past.  Baseball t-shirts, blue jeans, other t-shirts, and mid-thigh length shorts usually plagued my wardrobe, much to my brand-name loving housemates’ disdain.  Also, I detested contacts more than I did Coca Cola – I usually wore glasses.

            “This is comfortable, and my cheeks are actually contained within these shorts,” I retorted with an eye-roll and mocking flip of my shoulder length straight black hair.  I enjoyed the green baseball tee and white shorts that made up my outfit today.

            “I thought you looked hot as hell.  Everyone else thought so, especially considering you got la-” Dara cut herself off and slid her sunglasses down her nose, as if to get a better look at something.

            “Holy ,” Alice muttered in French, following Dara’s gaze.

            I moved my own eyes to where they were looking; it was just the Exo boys, fashionably dressed, many in their stupid matching black and blue leather jackets, walking up to the campus building.

            I did notice one thing different.

            Some of them looked mad.

            Really mad.

            And Chanyeol, who I now recognized walking among them, looked straight up furious.

            “It’s gone” Dara muttered.

            I creased my eyebrows in confusion.

            “What’s gone?” I asked.  My two friends looked at me with flabbergasted eyes.

            “You have got to be ting me,” Dara snorted.

            “The Exo shirt,” Alice began to explain.  “You know, The Exo shirt.  It’s supposed to be really lucky or special or something.  They all take turns wearing it – it’s a big deal to them.  I have no idea why none of them are wearing it now, but they all look pissed off about something.  And if there were ever something for them to be mad about, it would be if their shirt was sabotaged.”

            Flashbacks from yesterday morning were beginning to play through my head.

            A bad feeling churned in my stomach.

            I stood frozen as I watched Chanyeol angrily shove open the door at his side of the building.

            “And what does this shirt exactly look like?” my voice quivered as I asked my question.

            “It’s a black t-shirt with white English writing in the top middle of it.  Come on, let’s get to class, maybe we can catch some gossip on what happened to it then.” Dara declared and tugged on Alice, pulling her inside.

            Oops.

Hey Guys!

I'm happy you all liked the first chapter so much - I cheated on myself, and decided to post this a bit earlier than I had intended.

Well, I hope you liked the second chapter as well :)

Anticipate chapter three, it will be coming soon!

Continue to read, subscribe, upvote, comment, and enjoy!

Winnie