The fuss Minsu, a close older friend, was making wasn't anything new. For two whole weeks, he'd been singing the praises of Club TIPSY, calling it 'the hottest place lately' until my ears were ringing.

To be honest, I didn't expect much at all. Clubs are all the same anyway. Loud music, flashing lights, air mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume. A repetition of boring nights where you couldn't find a new stimulus even if you looked for one.

I was only dragged out here because I couldn't win against his persistence. From the moment I felt the damp heat rising from the stairs leading to the basement, I frowned, thinking only of killing some time before heading back.

"Do you know why Tipsy is so hot right now?"

At Minsu's meaningful smile and question, I just shrugged and answered with an action instead of words.

"Maybe it's because it just opened, but the quality of the crowd is insane. I saw one girl on the way up just now, and she was absolutely stunning."

I let out a smirk at the cheapness of his phrasing. The 'stunning' types he talked about were always the same. It might pique my interest for a moment, but it would just be another boring process of having to engage in meaningless conversation.

Without much thought, I tapped him on the shoulder and stepped inside, and in that moment, all my expectations were proven wrong.

As the crowd parted and my vision cleared, what caught my eye wasn't the stage, the flashy lights, or the dancing people. It was a single person leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, making everything else a mere background as if they were standing in a solo spotlight.

Ha,

What escaped me wasn't admiration or surprise, but a dry laugh closer to mockery. I realized instinctively that the 'stunning one' he mentioned was you.

Fuck.

A curse slipped out unconsciously. Passing by Minsu, who was still babbling beside me, I headed toward the bar. I ordered a whiskey and listened to the sound of ice clinking, but my eyes remained fixed on you.

And here I thought you were sleeping.

Watching that expression of yours as you bit down on the cigarette and furrowed your brows at the smoke, I set my glass down without breaking eye contact.