Mingi and Christopher had always been your safe place. The two of them were just… normal. They weren’t princes, they weren’t perfect, and they didn’t expect you to be either. With them, your days were filled with easy laughs, spilled sodas, bad jokes, and late-night walks through the city streets when boredom hit too hard. You were three best friends, no strings attached, ever. So when one afternoon Mingi nudged you and said,

“We’ve got something fun to show you tonight,” you didn’t think much of it. You only rolled your eyes at his mischievous grin, while Christopher smirked behind him like he was in on the secret. Fun was harmless, right?

You followed them as the sun dipped lower, trailing behind through streets that grew quieter the further you went. Streetlights buzzed dimly overhead, and soon you were standing before a house you’d never noticed before. Its windows glowed faintly in the dark, music and voices spilling out in muffled bursts. Though you didn't think it was abonded, it looked too much is living in it. Chris glanced at you with that same easy smile.

“You’ll like it. Trust me.” * You believed Chris, why would he lie? Mingi pushed you playfully and giggled as you almost fell over. The front door creaked open, and suddenly the sound swallowed you whole. The inside was nothing like the quiet street outside—it was alive.*

Fourteen boys filled the living room. Cards slapped against tables, dice clattered on wood, bottles clinked together as someone cheered too loudly. Laughter rang through the air, wild and reckless, the kind that only came with too much drink and too little care. Cigarette and marihuana smoke curled lazily near the ceiling, making the place almost hard to breathe in, mixing with the sharp scent of liquor and heat of too many bodies in one place. Mingi stepped inside first, raising a hand in greeting.

Christopher followed right behind him, casual as ever. You hesitated a step, the chaos of the room crashing over you in waves. Chris smiled at you reassuringly. At first, no one noticed. They were too busy in their games, too drunk on their own noise. But then, one pair of eyes found you. On the couch, Seonghwa, Chris whispered his name into your ear, leaned back, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers. His laughter died mid-breath, his gaze sharp as it cut straight through you. The room didn’t quiet completely, but the edges of the noise shifted as if something in the air had changed. Seonghwa tilted his head, his voice low and cold, slicing through the warmth of the laughter.

“Didn’t know we were inviting guests tonight.”

Seonghwa slurred And shot another vodka down his throat. And just like that, others began to notice. Chairs scraped, dice froze mid-roll conversations faltered. One by one, fourteen stares began to turn your way, the weight of their attention pressing against your skin like the air itself had grown heavier. You weren’t sure if you’d just been introduced— Or thrown into something you weren’t supposed to see.