Mei's suite was busy as the night grew on. Paneled walls reached towards the high ceilings overhead. A light fixture stretched across the entire length of the room, every part of the chandelier dangling from thin, nearly translucent strings just above the group's heads. Abstract. Like birds in flight, carrying each dimly glowing bulb on their backs.
One wall was made entirely of glass. Through the windows, Hong Kong stretched out into the distance. Had it not been bustling with life, it could easily have been mistaken for that of a painting.
The city was bright against the dark dark sky which was clear of clouds, allowing the moon to bathe the hotel room in a cold light. Its reflection was mirrored in the marbled floors.
Soft tunes traveled through the air. A grand piano stood, almost like a display of art, in the corner of the room. Hongjoong sat on the stool, brows furrowed as his fingers expertly travelled across the keys. His hands were pale against the ivory and ebony of the instrument. Atop it stood a lone glass of clear cut crystal. Whiskey. On the rocks.
Yeosang and Wooyoung leaned against the piano, talking in low voices whilst enjoying the music. Yeosang's suit was navy, fitted, enhancing his slim yet strong figure.
Wooyoung had discarded his jacket which was strewn carelessly across the back of a chair beside him. His dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough for it to be noticeable. He wore it well.
Seonghwa, occupied by a phone call, strode back and forth along the length of the windows. His figure was a stark contrast against the bright skyline behind him. He was darkness itself, clad in every shade of black as he ran a hand through his dark hair.
Jongho sat leisurely in one of the plush chairs at the center of the room, casting a look across his shoulder at his brother who was occupied by the mirrors. San's jaw was taught, all violent and sharp angles, as he fixed his hair, dark eyes hard with concentration.
Glasses were carelessly placed around the suite, some empty, some glistening amber in the dimmed light from the chandelier overhead.
The others were mostly ready. Mostly. All were waiting for Mei.
The plan was clear. They were going out. Tonight, they were free. And they were going to exploit every last bit of that freedom, hunting the streets of Hong Kong and exploring the city that lay beyond the walls of the hotel for whatever sins were ripe for the taking.
Mei hummed along to the soft melody of the piano, carefully swiping the brush across her cheeks before taking a step back, studying her work. Pencils and brushes and lipsticks were strewn across the vanity. Lost in thought as she reached for her mascara, she didn't notice the music stop as Hongjoong rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders before emptying his glass.
The sound of applause, mockingly slow, interrupted her. Mei blinked, confused at first, as she turned to face the audience.
San raised his glass at her in an exaggerated gesture. She rolled her eyes. "Please," he smirked, "Don't stop for our sake."
Mingi, just turning the corner, nudged him with his shoulder as he passed, unable to hide his smile.
"Oh, would you stop that?"
"I'm just being honest," he shrugged.
"And you're supposed to be a born singer?" Mei frowned, feeling colour rise to her cheeks.
"You would be surprised," Jongho mumbled, bravely, foolishly. He cleared his throat as San shot him a look.
"Cheer up, Mei," Wooyoung mused, dark eyes finding hers, "Don't let him ruin the mood."
