Over and Out

Chapter Sixteen

"You wanna... party?" He fell into step with her, uncertain though not preventing her from doing so.

"I can appreciate a good party. Last time I spent half of it nervous and on guard, and the other half beating up men and jumping off balconies."

"Ah yes, I forgot that you got the immersive experience." Shaking his head, he tugged her elbow, turning her to face him. "Um listen. Not that I care or anything, but do you know what you're gonna do?"

"Yeah I told you, I'm gonna party. I'm gonna do loads of shots and get super drunk and dance with strangers an—well you get the idea. And then when I inevitably throw up, I'll start again."

"I don't think this is the expected response from someone who's just witnessed all of that."

"I've seen worse."

"Hey." He scrutinised her breezy façade. "That would be more convincing if you hadn't spent the last half-hour in a state of near-catatonic state."

"Sorry, but I fail to understand why you think I need to convince you of anything? I'm sure you have more interesting things to do than supervise the mental meltdown and subsequent pity party that I'm about to have."

"No, I actually can't think of anything I'd rather do now." They had arrived at the door—he gestured for her to go in.

"Well then. I'll see you on the other side." Flashing a smirk over her shoulder, Lisa launched herself into the crowd.

--

Head pounding, mouth gummy, Lisa groaned as the morning light hit her face. Throwing an arm over her eyes, she let the hazy thoughts of consciousness slowly fill her mind—she was never a morning person, but the countless drinks she vaguely remembered consuming last night hadn't helped her situation. Trying to take inventory of her parts, she slowly sat up, patting down her messy hair. A shock zapped up her spine as she looked around, registering the other people around her, in various states of consciousness. She was in some sort of living room, plush sofas everywhere, heavy drapes around tall widows, parted to let in the sun. A velvet loveseat seemed to have been her bed for the night; judging by the sleeping figures sprawled on the floor, she had at least been lucky enough to make it to some sort of furniture. A twinge around where her heart might be started up, but she pushed it away—there was no point in feeling hurt, not when she had much more productive things to be doing. Finding out how to leave Mr J's mansion before she got killed was pretty high up on her list of priorities, though judging by the state of her dress, a shower couldn't be far behind. If she didn't feel so awful, she would've been amused by the sheer carnage around her. She couldn't quite remember how she had got here, but the many bottles and glasses dotted around the room were explanation enough. Not letting herself indulge in so long had it's disadvantages, but she couldn't find herself regretting finally letting go. What she could remember of the party made her smile; dancing without waiting for a signal or watching a target was a lot more fun than what she was used to.

"I should've fucked off before I followed you in there last night." Came a husky voice behind her—she twisted to find the source, groaning as her the joints in her back cracked with the movement. The mystery was solved as she spotted Jimin, who was sat up on top a low desk, a girl laid across his lap and an empty champagne bottle under his arm. Scoffing, Lisa stood up, stretching to try and bring feeling back into her limbs, before walking over to him.

"I gave you fair warning. Do all of these parties end like this? I left too early last time."

"I guess so. Not that I would ever associate with this crowd. Usually I'm in my room before things get... messy." Wincing, he extricated himself from his position, standing unsteadily. "Though you sure seemed to thrive in that." She didn't like the way he was grinning at her; something told her she had buried something away from herself.