attention | gyuricky

two.

"Yo, you here yet?"

Gyuvin shoulders his way past a group of girls dancing, both hands cupping his phone, the only way he can hear anything above the music blasting from speakers all around him and the buzz of people talking on all sides.

"Yeah, I just got in! Can you believe the cover fee here is thirty dollars?" he yells down the phone.

"It's a Saturday night, what'd you expect? Come find us, we're at the far corner by the pink disco ball."

It takes a good five minutes for Gyuvin to locate them, considering the relative lack of spatial awareness that seems to afflict people once they step into clubs. Gunwook's the first to catch sight of him, waving wildly to make sure the other boy can see him.

"Gyuvin-ah, you're here!" Junhyeon greets excitedly, sliding a shot glass of something blue over to where he's standing. "We got you a drink first so you wouldn't have to wait at the bar. Try it, it's good!"

Gyuvin laughs, thanking him offhandedly before downing it in one gulp. It's a mixture of, unexpectedly, citrus syrup and something burns on the way down, vodka? He's not a regular enough patron of clubs or bars to be familiar enough with hard liquors he can tell them apart by taste.

"I'm just surprised you guys managed to drag Taerae out here," he says, setting the empty glass back down on the sleek tabletop. "This is so not his scene."

"Come on, it's university orientation," Taerae answers, holding a bottle up towards him before taking a sip. "Live a little. Soon we'll be stuck doing piles of homework and going for morning lectures again."

"Don't remind me," Gunwook groans, putting his hand over his face. "Let me enjoy the last few days of freedom in peace."

They do rock-paper-scissors to decide who goes to the bar to get them their next round of drinks. It's a close match; Junhyeon and Gyuvin tie fifteen times in a row, each tie bringing more and more excited shouts from the others, before the latter finally throws out a paper and loses the game.

"It's only fair, since I was the last one to arrive," Gyuvin reasons. "But I'm getting us all whatever I want, and you're all gonna have to drink it."

The bar is, surprisingly, relatively empty when he gets there, a temporary reprieve from the crowds that usually surround it. There's only one bartender at the counter at the moment; a tall boy, about his age, with bright platinum hair and silver-rimmed glasses sitting low on his face. He's strikingly good looking, enough to make Gyuvin wonder how he isn't being swarmed with girls every minute of his shift.

"Hi," he says, resting his elbows on the glasstop counter. "I'm not really familiar with drinks. Can you get me four of anything grape flavored?"

"Grape, huh. Can I see some ID?"

Gyuvin flashes his ID for a second, and the bartender smiles, welcoming. "All right. I'll make you a grape crush sangria, okay? Just give me a minute."

He leans idly against one of the tall bar stools as he waits, watching the bartender at work, blending peeled grapes with ice, rimming the glasses with something clear, lemon juice maybe, before dipping it in something pink and vaguely sugar-like.

"You just...know how to do all this stuff?" Gyuvin asks, reluctant to disturb him but equally unable to contain his curiosity.

The bartender fills one of the glasses with the crushed ice in a smooth, practiced motion, looking up to wink at him. "All part of the job. It gets easier with practice."

"That sounds awesome. You look really young, though-"

"We're the same age," he replies, leaning over the counter to slide a tray in front of Gyuvin.

"How'd you know that?"

The bartender runs a wet hand through his spun-gold hair, soft eyes fixing on him. "I saw your ID, remember?"

Gyuvin nods, sheepish. "Right, I forgot."

He places four glasses of grape crush sangria topped with a single mint leaf each onto the tray, bowing as if he were a duke in a Victorian film, then breaking out into a smile. "Enjoy your drinks. Come back for another round soon, alright?"

Gyuvin pays for the drinks plus a ten dollar tip, and balances the tray carefully in both hands on his way back.

"Took you long enough," Junhyeon says, pretending to yawn. "Thanks for getting the drinks, Gyuvin-ah. We were just talking about moving into the dorms."

"Oh right, some of my stuff hasn't arrived yet." His clothing and belongings had been packed into a big suitcase that would be sent to the campus along with the others via the express delivery service, which meant it would arrive earliest tomorrow. They'd been advised to bring a carry-on with anything they would need on the first night, which Gyuvin had packed half an hour before he left the house, as usual. "I got my roommate and room assignment earlier, though."

"Who's yours?" Taerae asks, taking a sip of the grape drink.

Gyuvin squints at his phone to pull up the email. "Some guy named Ricky. He's a painting major, apparently. You think he's a foreigner?"

"Sounds like it," Gunwook answers. "You're lucky you got a room near the dining hall. Mine's like, a ten minute walk away."

Other than Gunwook who was a film major, most of the people Gyuvin knew coming to this college were music majors. It was the biggest art college in the country and he'd fought fiercely to get a place; especially for a major like architecture, competition had been stiff.

Gyuvin swirls the melting remains of the grape crush at the bottom of his cup, finishing the last bit in one go. There's a faint taste of cider in it, which explains why the bartender asked to see ID, but not enough to overwhelm the rest of the drink. It was really good, honestly one of the best drinks he's ever had at a bar; not too sweet, the perfect ratio of grape to ice, the flavor just subtle enough he wouldn't get tired of tasting it too quickly. 

"I'll go get us all shots," Gunwook offers, getting up from his seat. "We're gonna play a drinking game. Gyuvin, you in?"