“Yes, did I hear you right, Sir?” Sehun says as he has to double take at the man who was holding out a thick wad of papers to the next president in position. He had been called up to the faculty room earlier on and had to excuse himself from the very important lesson on Bimolecular adhesion.

            “Mr. Oh—you heard me correctly.” Mr. Cho says as he raises an eyebrow. “You are to pass these documents to Seoul High. Previous president Byun Baekhyun never got around to completing the deal with Seoul High on the joint festival—thus you being the predecessor. Take this to the student council on the other side to sign so that this coming February we can make the preparations.”

            Sehun’s eyes widen a bit—this was the very touchy topic that Baekhyun never really tried to push on. It was a known fact that everyone in Seoul High were not worth anyone’s time, thus Baekhyun rejecting the idea of them combining for the spring festival.

            “But—sir, I thought this idea was trashed long ago? Didn’t Byun Baekhyun have it rejected last August?” Sehun says as he nibbles his lower lip, as the combination of these two schools would be utter catastrophe.

            “Yes—yes, he did reject it. However, the school board has already confirmed their approval, and as you are the non-elected presidential candidate and—may I remind you—you are only in position in the mean time, at least until we hold another election.” Mr. Cho says as he turns his attention back to his very intense game of solitaire.

            “But—sir—“

            “—No buts.” Mr. Cho says as he lifts a finger towards Sehun. “You are to do as you are told—not hurry along before I retract any other statement.”

            Sehun sighs, clutching unto the folder that has the word Seoul U—High Spring Festival.

            “They approved of it?!” Luhan shouts into his phone, his other hand on his hip. On the other line of the phone call was Yixing, his very incompetent Vice President.

            “Yeah… The student council president is on his way now—ah, look out the window. He’s, uh, right there—ahh!!!”

            Luhan an eyebrow, pacing back and forth in the student council room. “What’s wrong?”

            “—I lost a game in NBA 2k16.” Yixing says with a sigh, far too immersed in his own world. “He’ll be up in a while Mr. President so please get ready—“

            Luhan sighs as he puts down his phone, seeing as Yixing will be of no help. The Seoul High students council was a lot of things—but a student council it wasn’t. Luhan took presidency due to the fact that he’s the only one with proper leadership in the whole school, and the rest of s are either just taking up the name.

            “I have to deal with this myself—everything by myself.” Luhan says with an irritated grin, his fingers digging into his waist. “EVERYTHING!!! BY!!! MYSELF!!!”

            He’s cackling now, laughing in the most unattractive and horrifying way possible.

            “Uh—I think I came at a bad time.”

            Luhan whips his head back from his little scene, clearing his throat when he sees a boy far taller than him. “Yeah—no, you didn’t. May I know who I owe the pleasure of—“

            “—Oh Sehun.” Says the boy with a smile, as if he was used to introducing himself. “I’m currently in position since Byun Baekhyun transferred here. Mr. Cho had tasked me to give these to you in the earliest possible time, and I had free period so I’m here—“

            “—Okay.” Luhan says as if he was proud of himself, managing to interrupt Sehun as payback for interrupting him. “May I discuss the details with you over a cup of tea?”

            Luhan was very experienced with Seoul U students. He’s been in position ever since he was a freshman, and never really got to negotiate with Byun Baekhyun as beyond his freshman year, Seoul U and Seoul High were doomed to be enemies.

            “I see that the board of each respective school has agreed to this matter, however us, the Seoul High populate, would rather not have a combination of both spring festivals.” Luhan says as he digs up in his vocabulary the most astonishing and articulate words he can muster up—he was still talking the smartest kid in the school. The Seoul U system works that way—sadly—as the smartest kid gets the position.

            “I’m sorry for any intrusion, however, the Seoul U populate would also not like to have a combination. However—this is the utter unabridged pronouncement of the both directors, and cannot be retracted in any way. Please sign here—“

            “—Hold up, I ain’t signing no god damn papers.” Luhan says in his unsightly accent, hissing as he has had enough of the posh talk. “You Seoul U students think you can waltz in here and use your heavy duty vocabulary on us to seem more dominant? Well, I’m so ing sorry but you guys can’t even be compared to a ing hair to us. You are all just bugs—nerd bugs that us, the Seoul High populate, will most probably be crushing since we’ll be your ing bosses—“

            Luhan stops talking as he sees Oh Sehun pull a smile, a smile way too far from comfort.

            “—What? Why are you smiling like that?” Luhan says with a hiss, eyeing Sehun as if he think he’s the winner. “I—If you don’t have any more questions, please leave the premises immediately—“

            “—You have a very cute accent, what is it, Chinese?”

            Luhan swallows the lump in his throat as he notices Sehun shift his position, his legs unfolding as he leans his elbows into his knees. “I can see it, Luhan—you’ve been in korea for around… 5 years? Must have been hard.” Sehun says with a smile that slightly reaches his eyes—Luhan really can’t tell.

            Luhan seemed entranced by the way Oh Sehun’s voice deepens the mentioning of his name. “You—don’t talk so informally—to me.” Luhan says as he coughs a bit. “You better get your sorry out of here, or else I’ll be calling our very buff and well paid security—“

            “—Your eyes are inexplicably beautiful.” Sehun says as he stares straight into Luhan’s eyes, as if it was the most normal thing to do. “Your skin compliments them very well—“

            “—G—Get out!” Luhan shouts, hiding his face as he turns it to the right. “You little er—if you don’t get out now—“

            “—Shame as how I wont be seeing more of you—if the combined project pushes through, I can have the pleasure of meeting with you on a daily expanse until the spring festival commences.” Sehun says as he gazes to his right, his mouth twitching into a pout. “What a shame.”

            “—ing—Fine.” Luhan says in irritation. “Give me the god damn papers.”

            Sehun turns his pout into a smirk, handing Luhan the folders in triumph. “If you would just sign here…”

            Luhan reluctantly and abruptly signs the papers, chucking them towards Sehun in distaste. “You haven’t won, Oh Sehun. I’ll make sure this spring festival is for Seoul High’s advantage.”

            Sehun only shrugs, taking the papers back into his backpack. “Very well, I’ll see to it that Seoul U has the utmost fun. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Luhan.” He says as he stands by the door, eyeing the frustrated president. “I’ll be looking forward to working with you all the time—very soon.”

            Luhan has to cup his cheeks with his palms in order to stop the heat from spreading. This Oh Sehun kid is brutal.

            It was dominance—alright.

            Baekhyun has every nerve to calm down once he sees the very poorly done prank to his new locker. The lockers here were luxurious, as always, and are clearly far from possible penetration. The small bucket hanging from the top of his locker is clearly peaking out, as Chanyeol has no idea how he could put it in his locker for further discretion.

            The string is elaborately strung to the handle of Baekhyun’s locker, a really big giveaway. Baekhyun cuts the string with a pair of scissors from his backpack, slightly tiptoeing so that he could reach out for the bucket.

            Once he manages to grab a hold of it, he sighs at the words scribbled unto the metal tin. This is for the first prank—welcome to Seoul High, nerd.

            Inside the bucket was a nasty looking mixture, Baekhyun slightly sniffing it to figure out his contents. “Curry powder, Brocolli, popcorn, tuna—tonkatsu…?”

            He swiftly unlocks his locker, placing his books into the top portion. He spots a loose piece of payer stuck in between one of them.

            “You, Mr. Byun Baekhyun, starting today, will have to answer to Park Chanyeol—“

            He crumples the paper before he could finish reading it, lugging it to the trashcan by his locker. He’s had enough of this certain Mr. Park Chanyeol.

            “You look tired.” Says a voice from behind him, making him swivel into it’s direction. “New kid blues?”

            Baekhyun squints a bit, trying to recognize the boy who was leaning against the locker next to his. “You’re… Kim Jongin.” Baekhyun says with a sigh as he honestly doesn’t have time for any of Park Chanyeol’s clique. “If its about Park Chanyeol’s very generous proposition for me to serve his sorry , then—“

            “—Hold up, it’s nothing like that.” Jongin says with a laugh. “I’m just asking you on how you’re doing, that’s all.” He says with a breathy chuckle, making Baekhyun smile in return. “Yeol may not look like it—but he has a good heart.”

            Baekhyun snorts, obviously not buying it. “If you’re here to play cupid, then—“

            “—No, not that either.” Jongin says with a smile. “I’m going to invite you over to this month’s school party.”

            “Huh?” Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow, giving Jongin a weird look. “This month’s?”

            “Yeah… We always have parties, it’s a Seoul High thing. Since it’s October, the theme is almost Halloween but not rly.”

            Baehyun has to roll his eyes. “So is November’s party almost Christmas but not rly?”

            “No, it’s just Halloween.”

            Baekhyun laughs at the seriousness in Jongin’s tone. “Alright, alright, I’ll bite.” Baekhyun says as he shakes his fringe from his eyes. “I’ll go, only if you can assure my 100% safety.”

            Jongin lifts his arms up in surrender. “Your wish is my command.”

            Suddenly, Baekhyun doesn’t seem so indifferent anymore.

            “You—What?!” Chanyeol shouts at his friend, who obviously had a brain problem. “How—what?!”

            “Yeah, I invited Baekhyun as my date for the party.” Jongin says as he plays with the buttons of his expensive Dolce & Gabbana jacket. “No big deal—I didn’t want to keep going solo with you and the guys.”

            “Hey—ouch.” Luhan says with a pout. Luhan sighs as he sees his friends crowd around the student council couch, the leather touch being the most addicting attribute. “You didn’t want to go with us? Why not?”

            Jongin shrugs, losing interest in his jacket buttons. “Just felt like it. Besides—Byun Baekhyun is cute.”

            All of the boys—most especially Chanyeol—give Jongin the look.

            Jongin shrugs again, ignoring them all.

            “Are you—ing out of your mind?!” Chanyeol shouts, pointing at the boy on the sofa across him. “You—You! That little er put a stinky paint bomb in my locker, let me get chased by bees, stuck me to a bunch ing and hit me clean across the face—and you think he’s ing cute?!”

            Jongin looks up at Chanyeol, who was about to explode.

            “Yeah, you sort of explained why he was cute in the first place.

            “Mr. Oh Sehun—you’re late.”

            Sehun sighs as he takes a seat at his new regular spot as president, eyeing each of s to recognize them.

            “Okay, so since I’m the new president of the Erudites, and also the student council president, I would like to sincerely apologize for my recent incompetence. However—as first decree as president, I would like to do a few changes to out little club room.”

            No one could deny it—it was years of investment. The club room was as the lowest part of Seoul U, a normal unused classroom with the windows covered with black poster paper. The candles are lined against the shelves, each different shaped thus the painful incoherency.

            “But—Club President Oh Sehun—this set up has stayed this way for years.” Jongdae remarks, suddenly alert at the young president’s decision. “You cant just change it—“

            “—Ah. Who is the president?”

            Sehun fervently waits for their reply.

            “You—Sir.” Jumyeon says reluctantly as he realizes that Sehun was just a freshman.

            “And in the rule book, what does it say in article 17, section no. 3, paragraph 12, line 2?”

            “Whatever the president says—“

            “—Is law.” Sehun finishes with his smile, sending the senior members into a fuss. Just because this freshman has the perfect grade point average, doesn’t mean he can speak formally to his elders.

            “Then starting today, I want all the candles gone. We’re going to pull the tables from the storage room and place them here. We will no longer be sitting on the floor—the monoblocs in the room over there will be used. Also—we have to ask the repairman to fix our lights.”

            The older members sigh in exasperation, making Sehun smile even more.

            Baekhyun is standing by his full body mirror, straightening his very favorite orange blazer grazing his light skin. Baekhyun only ever takes out his orange blazer out when the event is special, and judging by the fact that Jongin had purposely stated wear your best clothes—he had to.

            “Today is the start of your career here—do well.” He sighs as he pats his straight hair into a better hairstyle, slightly pushing his bangs to the side with the gel his mom had packed along in his luggage. The orange blazer lightly covers the gray polo tee shirt inside, with his blue pants lightly brushing against his ankles.

            As a matter of fact—Baekhyun has never been to a college party. Seoul U never really held any, as they were a waste of time and would rather spend the money for that on improving the library, wherein Baekhyun never complained.

            He grabs his standard flip phone and slips it into his pocket, patting it as he opens the door.

            Much to his surprise, he sees Jongin leaning on the wall across the door. “You ready?”

            “You—You were waiting for me?” Baekhyun an eyebrow, eyeing Jongin from top to bottom. The boy is sporting a black baseball tee, and simple black pants. There’s a silver chain around his neck, and Baekhyun has to agree that the boy looked plainly amazing.

            “Yeah—god, what on earth are you wearing?”

            Baekhyun looks down at himself, trying to spot what Jongin was talking about. “What—is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

            “Yeah—you look like a walking orange popsicle.” Jongin covers his mouth in frustration, a bit alerted by the fact that this was Baekhyun’s best clothes.

            “Nevermind—it’s fine. Lets go.” Jongin says with a sigh as he offers his folded arm for Baekhyun to take, to which he reluctantly does.

            Baekhyun has to shut his eyes tight in attempt to not get seizure, as the strobe lights and neon signs spilled against the backlight coated room. He doesn’t really understand, but he’s trying to make sure that he’s not in a club.

            But alas—it seems like a club.

            “Jongin!” Luhan shouts from across the sea of teenagers, squeezing through them as he made his way to Jongin and Baekhyun at the entrance. “You’re late—we already started.”

            Jongin gives him a grin, turning his head to Baekhyun. “Alright, let’s go.”

            Baekhyun eyes Jongin as if he doesn’t really understand, but is clearly dragged through the crowd by Jongin pulling on his left and Luhan on his right. “Since this is your first party, we’ll make sure its as memorable as possible, yeah?”

            Baekhyun eyes Luhan in curiosity, as if he hadn’t threatened the boy earlier on this week. He doesn’t understand, and frankly, a very competent brain tends to short circuit when surrounded by too many people. Baekhyun tries to block out all the chatter and focuses solely on the light blue neon jacket Luhan was wearing, slightly reflecting in the backlight.

            When the manage to pass through the crowd, Jongin and Luhan lugs Baekhyun to a neon green couch that seemed a lot less occupied as the dance floor.

            Jongin sits him beside—what a surprise—Park Chanyeol, taking the seat to his right. “Sorry we’re late.”

            Chanyeol visibly rolls his eyes, sipping away at the neon colored shot glass. “—Whatever.”

            Baekhyun swallows hard, he’s starting to sweat. His blazer is sticking to his skin, but he wont give in. He doesn’t want to remove the very, very well prepared blazer, and refuses to strip at all in these conditions. He holds his breath when everyone starts talking.

            “Since it’s that time of the month again—we will start.” Yixing says in a slightly drunken state, sipping from the drink in his hand. “But first, let us welcome our guest—Mr. Byun Baekhyun!”

            A bunch of the people started clapping, except Chanyeol who was leaning as far as he could from Baekhyun. A bunch of girls were perched on the edges of the couch, giggling as Minseok slyly whispered stuff into their ears.

            Holy —this is too much. Baekhyun could feel the sweat and the steam and the smell of alcohol crowd his thoughts—and mind you, being smart meant observing the smallest things. The sounds of heels, the booming of the bass, the chatter, the drunken laughter—

            Baekhyun has to massage his temples when Yixing starts talking again, waving around his half full glass. It spills slightly on Luhan, to which his face twists into a frown. “I will be today’s judge—hic!—and would like for Mr. Jongin and Mr. Luhan to step up to the stage.”

            Baekhyun quickly turns his attention to Jongin, who was now smirking at Luhan. Luhan returns the friendly grin, seemingly putting his drink down on the table—Baekhyun doesn’t really know, it’s too dark.

            “The same rules apply—I’m too—hic!—to explain it to you Mr. Byun Baekhyun—but please pay good attention to the two before you.”

            Baekhyun nods as Yixing waits for confirmation, quickly returning back to whatever he was doing. “Now—Mr. Jongin—Mr. Luhan—please do the honors.”

            Baekhyun feels as if his breath no longer has home in his body, as the speakers start to blast loud and unsettling music. It’s a beat that echoes throughout his entire body, shaking his heart uncomfortably. Is this what the kids of today listen to? What ever happened to Symphony no. 5? No. 9? The Four Seasons? Ave Verum Corpus?

            Baekhyun sighs as Jongin gives him a wink, to which he feels even more unsettled with. He and Luhan disappear into the now dispersing crowd, leaving the dance floor completely empty. Baekhyun could now see that the dance floor was completely LED lit, adding even more pain to his eyes.

            Right now, Baekhyun is a lost puppy in a sea of wolves.

            As the music grows louder, the cheers drown in them. Baekhyun is calculating—unconsciously—at the decibels of the music. He comes up with a number that is far beyond human sound comprehension, feeling as if he’s going to faint.

            But he’s completely drawn away from thoughts when Jongin starts to dance.

            He can’t lie—no, he wont lie—the way Jongin’s body folds against each other, his ligaments bending as far he could reach—Baekhyun saw it all. At least, Baekhyun was entranced with the way his bones and muscles could flex far beyond their capacity, allowing for Baekhyun jaw to drop.

            The crowd cheers as Jongin dances to the beat, Baekhyun’s heart seemingly exploding in its cage. He’s too entranced—it was crazy. Parties are—crazy.

            “What—are you crushing on him or something?!” Chanyeol shouts into his ear, making him jolt to the empty space Jongin left. He gives Chanyeol a narrow look, making the boy feel triumphant in scaring the elder.

            “No—and don’t talk to me—I don’t want to converse.” Baekhyun shouts in return, making Chanyeol twist his face into a scowl.

            “WELL I DON’T WANT TO CONVERSE EITHER!” He shouts even louder, annoying he hell out of Baekhyun with his low, raspy voice.

            “WELL THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE ING DOING RIGHT NOW YOU DIMWIT!” Baekhyun retorts, making sure his voice is even louder.

            Chanyeol is about to reply, but is immediately shaken when the screech of the crowds fill the room. Jongin had just finished his part of the duel, allowing Luhan to take the stage. Luhan curves his body beautifully to the beat, just as good as Jongin did prior.

            Suddenly, Baekhyun feels like he’s in a different world. Gone are the curfews—gone are the late study nights—gone are the days of slaving under Mr. Cho.

            “Would you like a drink, sir?”

            Baekhyun looks up to the waiter, eyeing the silver tray of alcoholic drinks. He’s never drunken anything alcoholic in his life—aside from accidentally swallowing the mouth wash—he immediately sticks his hand out and chugs the drink down.

            Tonight he’s Byun ing Baekhyun.

            Baekhyun enjoys and explores the new side—the alcoholic side—of him that night. He spends the rest of the night chugging down different colored drinks, allowing it to burn his throat, all the way down to his stomach.

            Chanyeol, Minseok and Yixing all eye Baekhyun in a mixture of fear, curiosity and disbelief.

            “Woah—Woah, hold on there tiger.” Minseok says reluctantly, reaching out his hand as if he could mentally stop Baekhyun from drinking any more. “You’ve had 10 shots in the past 15 minutes—I think you’ve had enough for the night.”

            Baekhyun shakes his head, drinking the latest shot glass he had up. “This alcohol thing—it’s weird.” Baekhyun shrugs, as if the liquid hadn’t phased him at all. Chanyeol lifts an eyebrow, obviously not believing it. “You’re not drunk?”

            Baekhyun shakes his head again, turning it towards the taller boy. “Not at all, if a painful feeling in my stomach is being drunk, then yeah, I’m hella drunk.”

            Chanyeol winces at the sound of Baekhyun’s slur on the word, obviously trying to use the cool words that his age should totally know. “I don’t believe it—you’re just putting up a front, aren’t you?”

            Jongin and Luhan had finally returned from the dance floor, allowing the crowd to once again stomp their feet on the LED screens attached to the ground. Both were drenched in sweat, Jongin slightly twisting the salt water out of his baseball tee.

            “What’s going on?” Jongin says with a unknowing smile, looking around to each occupant of the table.

            “What number was that—hic!—again?” Chanyeol says as he drunkenly holds unto the glass. He looks at Baekhyun who was sitting a lot closer to Chanyeol than he initially did, sipping unto the glass he had taken from the table.

            “23.” Baekhyun says as he places the glass back down, blinking as he looks at Chanyeol in simplicity. “You?”

            “Twenty—ing—four.” Chanyeol says with a loud laugh, causing Baekhyun to twitch. “I’m ing beating ur Byun Baekhyun—“

            Chanyeol swirls from side to side, ultimately falling unto Baekhyun’s lap.

            “Well, at least we all know that twenty ing four is Chanyeol’s limit.” Yixing says with an awkward laugh, far too amazed that Baekhyun was still sane. “You okay, Byun?”

            Baekhyun shrugs, placing the glass that lightly fitting through his fingers. “I always thought this alcohol thing would mess me up—I guess not.”

            Jongin stares at Baekhyun ins disbelief, immediately taking the seat beside him. “You—you drank twenty three shots? And you’re still okay?”

            “Well, yeah. Should I not be?”

            Everyone in the table is far from belief, breaking into laughter as the music starts again. “Amazing—Byun Baekhyun! You’re amazing!”           

            Baekhyun watches as each boy starts to pour champagne for each other, handing Baekhyun a glass as the bits drip unto the unconscious Chanyeol’s head.

            “What am I going to do with him?” Baekhyun asks Jongin, who was far too busy chugging down an entire bottle of wine. “You can just bring him to his room—he’s done for the night.” Luhan replies in his stead, not giving Baekhyun a glance. “Oh—hic!—would it be okay?”

            Baekhyun notes the tone in Luhan’s voice, obviously not wanting to leave the room. It was nearing 12 am, and it seemed like the peak of the party as even heavier alcoholic beverages started to pour out from the preparation rooms. Baekhyun gives Luhan a smile, not really minding leaving the party.

            “It’s fine—I’ll make sure this log gets back to his room safely.”

            Luhan gives him a pat on the back, a bit drunk as he pulls Baekhyun into a hug. “Thank youuuuu you are like the sweetest lil’ thing on the planet—“ He says with a hiccup and a giggle. Baekhyun feels Luhan kiss his cheek, but he’s not entirely sure.

            He lugs Chanyeol’s arm around his neck, dragging him out of the room as the sound of the music dies down. He turns around one last time before he disappears into the dormitory area.

            “They actually have a hall specific to parties—yikes.”

            Baekhyun thought his first college party was going to rot him—inside out. But alcohol was just CH3-CH2-OH to Baekhyun, and he’s had enough of those fumes back in Chemistry class.

            He silently takes a step into the open air, breathing deeply as he feels the heaviness of the very unconscious giant on his shoulder.

            “I can’t believe I agreed to this—“ Baekhyun says with a grunt as he pulls Chanyeol, trying to keep his legs from toppling over. He faintly remembers Chanyeol’s room number—105, and makes his way down the hallways. He passes his room, sighing as all he wanted to do now was curl up in a ball and fall asleep against the fluffy bed covers the school had provided earlier on. But alas, he has a duty and a mission to fulfill. He sees Chanyeol’s room right beside his, wheezing as he tried to reach out for the door knob.

            “Of course—Of course it’s locked.” Baekhyun says with a sarcastic laugh, throwing Chanyeol down beside his door. He bends down in a squat as he tried to slap Chanyeol to wake up. “Oi—Oi! Wake the hell up!” He shouts as he feels completely fed up with the fact that Chanyeol only slurs in between five more minutes… and it’s Saturday… er…

            Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and opts to just leaving Chanyeol out here. Or probably leave his corpse in front of Luhan and Jongin’s room—maybe then they’ll notice him on the way back. He props Chanyeol on his back, pulling unto the boy by his legs as he was far too tired to carry him in any other way. He pads back to room 103, leaning Chanyeol once again on the wall beside the door.

            With a triumphant smile, he dusts off himself and waltzes back into his room. “They’ll surely be back by 2 am.” Baekhyun says as he looks at his watch, seeing as teenagers couldn’t party all the way until dawn. With a sleep yawn, he unlocks his own door and closes it from behind him.

            It’s not like Baekhyun was worried—especially since it had just been a few hours past 2 am. Baekhyun is peaking from his door from time to time. Some people had already drunkenly taken back to their rooms—a bunch of guys with girls disappearing into their rooms, in for what Baekhyun assumes a small gathering for the rest of the night. He rubs his temples as he opens the door each time someone comes around the hallway, hoping it would be Luhan or Jongin or Minseok or Yixing—or someone.

            He sighs when each time each person disappears into their respective room, Chanyeol groans at the sound of the doors slamming. He honestly doesn’t want to involve himself any further, and would plainly like for it for Chanyeol to rot in silence in the hallway. Unfortunately for Baekhyun, and fortunately for Chanyeol—Baekhyun’s heart was made of gold.

            “It must be years of rooming with Kyungsoo and hanging around with Junmyeon—“ Baekhuyn scowls as he exits his room, walking towards Chanyeol. He sighs as he sees the pathetic state his current enemy was, feeling kind of sorry for the boy. He was drunk as hell—his hair had gone from the appropriately messy waves to an all out messy bundle of waves, his polished suit was now hanging on all parts of his body, his jacket on his lap. But if Baekhyun didn’t claim for Chanyeol to be an enemy—he would have to agree that Chanyeol in this state was y as hell.

            “Get rid of those thoughts, Byun Baekhyun. It’s nothing like that.” He says to himself, slapping his cheeks to get back to himself. “You’ll let Park Chanyeol sleep in your room—actually—“ He says as he ponders for a little as he lets go of Chanyeol’s legs, allowing it to thump back down on the ground. Chanyeol groans, but Baekhyun ultimately ignores it.

            “—He’ll be sleeping in the bathroom, locked.” Baekhyun says, nodding to himself as if it was the most ingenious thing he’s ever come up with—even better than the from scratch computer he had made back in 6^th grade.

            He successfully chucks Chanyeol into the very spacious bathtub, dusting off his hands as he hears Chanyeol’s large build thump against the porcelain. “Good, now—goodnight.” He says with a smile as he turns off the lights. Before he’s about and out of the door, he hears Chanyeol groan.

            He lifts his head to see the boy slip his hands under his head, his brows knotted together. Baekhyun suddenly feels guilt, sensitivity and care for the boy, but immediately shakes it off. “He—He must just need a pillow.”

            Baekhyun jogs slightly to the pillow cabinet, his legs too small for a faster sprint. He grabs a pillow from the top part and jogs back to the bathroom, opening the door. He places the pillow right under Chanyeol’s head, to which the drunk boy clutches close to. His brows start to unknot, and is sent into peaceful slumber.

            Baekhyun nods, satisfied.

            He makes his way back to the door and turns off the lights again. “Goodnight, Park Chanyeol.”

            Chanyeol barely gets drunk at parties. The last time he ever attempted to get drunk was back in the November party in his 1^st year, as it was the first time he’d attend the monthly party. It was his birth month, and screamed why the hell not?! as he chugged an entire bottle of vodka. After that, Chanyeol never bothered with getting drunk, just sipping from a single glass from time to time.

            Now that he’s a third year, he can’t really believe that the sensation of a hangover headache would meet him again.

            “D—Damn it!” He shouts as he lets his hands find his temples, massaging them as he tried to tone down the pain. “What the hell did I do last night—how much did I—“

            He suddenly recalls the party, the 23 shots he had precariously downed in one gulp, and the very smug-innocent looking Byun Baekhyun who was drinking along with him. His face twists into a scowl as he recalls this scene, his eyelids still perfectly glued together. “I passed out—before that sonnofabit—“

            He finally feels the situation he was in. He cracks his eyes open slightly, and observes his surroundings. “A… bathroom? A dorm bathroom.” He remarks trying to determine if it was his own bathroom or someone else’s. He notices the careful placement of stuff against the drawers on each side, nodding as he agrees with his observation.

            “It’s clean—definitely not mine. Not Jongin and Luhan’s either—and definitely not Minseok and Yixing’s—“

            He tries to sit upright, but is sent back down when his headache starts throbbing. He’s about to attempt to get out when he chooses to freeze when the sound of the door opening echoes in the bathroom. He wants to open his eyes, but his body tells him to lie down and stay down as the obvious owner takes his place inside the bathroom.

            “You still not awake, Mr. Park Chanyeol?” Chanyeol peaks a bit, and is surprised to see Byun Baekhyun in pink and blue cloud printed pajamas. He feels something poke his stomach, and has to hold back a gag so that he doesn’t let Baekhyun know he’s awake.

            “I wonder if I keep poking you my very prized ruler, you’ll wake up. Poke. I have to take a shower.” He sighs, his cheek leaning against the bathtub. Poke. “I can’t carry you out of here—poke—since people are going to suspect we slept together—poke.”

            Chanyeol is trying not to stir around the bathroom too much, hoping that Baekhyun would leave. When Baekhyun feels like he’s poked Chanyeol enough, he goes up on his knees and stands straight. “Well, since you’re still passed out—I guess I’ll just shower. You can keep the bathtub.” Baekhyun says with a chuckle, turning around to face the mirror.

            Oh , Chanyeol thinks to himself. It was a bad idea—acting as if he’s still unconscious. He hears Baekhyun’s clothes fall to the ground, far too uncomfortable in his current position. He opens his eyes a bit, wondering Baekhyun had disappeared into the room for a while, only to have caught sight of Baekhyun’s . And . Bare .

            .

            Baekhyun disappears into the shower, and Chanyeol settles back into the bathroom as the sound of water pours into the bathroom.

            I—I have to get out of here, Chanyeol says in his mind, trying to see if Baekhyun had any easy access to the door. When he realizes that the door is just slightly across the shower, Chanyeol sighs.

            He spends the next 45 minutes—45 minutes!—in complete tension as Chanyeol wonders why such a small boy needs to shower that long.

[a/n] if you've been following this story you might have realized that the chaptering has lessened--I had purposely combined two chapters each together so that the chapters are heavier. Since I kind of want to attempt to make it longer per chapter. So yeah.. hehe happy reading!