Phantoms | jjk.

[35]: Sickly Sweet

Navigating the crowd was no easy feat.

Above everything else, it took finesse. Ducking and weaving, apologising and smiling, it took self-control and speed.

It seemed to have no end, the crowd.

Yoongi was not far behind you. He was struggling just as much as you were to push pass the onslaught of people.

Finally, after you get past the defending line of people on the outskirts of the mosh, you are able to breathe.

"Jeez," you muttered, and Yoongi seemed to agree the way he was catching his breath when he finally got out. He let out a huge sigh, ran, his fingers through his mint green hair, and then started scanning the bar for any familiar faces.

There were lots of different areas in this club—the one known as Starlight.

You of course have the huge dance floor, with a DJ leading the crowd, bright blinding strobes, massive speakers and endless stumbling bodies.

Stretched along the right side, there was a bar. A long, almost circular bar that was sort of secluded from the intensity of the dancers. That was where everyone went to cool off—to have a slow beer and catch their breaths. It was quieter.

But the peace from there was nothing in comparison to the booths. There were at least six of them. Small rooms with C-shaped couches, a circular coffee table in the centre, and of course, some curtains. The couches were red leather, a red light shining from above.

A lot goes on in those booths—you could tell.

"That's her."

Instinctively, you follow Yoongi's voice. It was really no surprise that the woman he was looking for was sitting at the bar. And it was even less of a surprise that it was the same woman you had seen enter the building, just before.

It was hard to hear in the busy venue, but your ears had been well-accustomed to loud noises.

The young woman spotted you two like she had an in-built snipe, calling you over with a smile.

"Hey, Hyuna, this is who I was telling you about," Yoongi approached, placing his hand onto her shoulder and offering his other one in your direction. "This is-"

"Echo." you interrupted.

"Well hello there, Echo."

Her rosy pink hair hung low perfectly between her sleek, exposed shoulder blades. Her makeup was slick, feminine, beautiful. She was beautiful.

The fragrance of her sugared cologne hit you like a bus, the moment you were within talking-range with her. It was hard not to skim over her bewitching outfit with your eyes, but you made sure to keep your head facing her.

The way she welcomed you back with a foxy smirk, checking out your outfit in the process—made your heart absolutely race.

If it weren't for your lack of energy, maybe you would have felt more self-conscious about the contrast in your outfits.