After Dark 》Minsung

2 》How Did You Get In My House?

Already spotting the blond waves of one and the spaced out gaze of the other.

"Okay, this is going to sound stupid," Minho started to them, both of their eyes shifting to him in silent greetings as Felix slid into the booth seats they miraculously picked to sit at. Him following after. Their usual spot, somewhere between the front and the back, somewhere between the edge of the world and the sea monster sitting at the other. He finished off, taking a napkin from the "But I just want water."

The one with the wavy blond hair, the few earrings including an industrial and a chain stapled deep into his ears, the lip ring plastered to the side of his lip occupying half of his speech. Some brightly colored apricot cocktail filled to the brim of it's short glass already by his hand, the proof it had been sitting for a while existing in the watered ring it left stained on the laminated wood table. The perfect grade student with a clean track record, now Minho's favorite rock drummer in the entire world. A few of his band's songs were even sitting on his playlist at the moment. Chan took a sip of his cocktail as he laughed the tease, "Designated driver Minho back at it again."

Minho joined him, his own laughter pure sarcasm, "Yeah, haha, almost as if he can't handle his fuckin' liquor."

"Not even one beer?" The other asked, the vacant gaze he kept before now focused and alert to the two sitting across from him. His usual order, a rum and coke, half consumed. Emptied out, the deep burgundy color as his hair, combed gently in cascading falls to perfectly frame his puffy features. His hands folded tightly over his chest, fingers tapping a rhythm on his biceps. Changbin. The man himself. The man who covered all the parking spot lines with black paint in their high school days, the man who tied a dildo into the branches of a tree set in front of the dean's office in an unsuccessful attempt to get out of taking his physics final that year, the man who used to drop tomatoes into the restrooms, for the pure entertainment of dropping tomatoes down the sewage pipes. Now working to become a lawyer. 

"If you want to be dragging me home as I vomit all over you, sure," Minho scowled back at him.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed lightly.

As the others fell into their own conversations, Minho ripped it out and checked the notification.

Client 10932

Client 10932:
Hello hello •̀.̫•́✧
Mr. Jackalope? 
You said you're free to talk terms today.
Can we call? (*^^)v
Can I call you?
8:02 pm

"I have to take a call really quickly," Minho murmured to them, ignoring the odd looks he was given as he quickly slid out of the booth benches. 

He scurried off, stepping fast around the other patrons and wanderers of the early night, swerving carefully around the few hooking up, the occasional group of over exhilarated students who had yet to be jaded to the bitter taste of bottom feeder alcohol nearly knocking their hands back into him. Worming his way around them as quietly as possible, as he chased off into the bar's restrooms. Once inside, checking no one would be listening in on the conversation.

Connecting the wireless headset to his phone, he then pulled the speakers over his ears and pressed the unknown contact into a voice call.

It rang a few times. 

Until a voice cut through his headphones, "Mr. Jackalope?"

Somewhere in his otherwise calm chest, his heart fluttered gently at the echo in his ears. A male. Barely audible, sung softly as if it was unsure of itself. Tone melodically whispered, fluid and steady in a cozy hum, like a steady stream of honey falling into a steaming cup of tea.