perhaps, you | woosan

Chapter Four

POV: San

Wooyoung couldn't help but lean in hearing this. "Where??"

"Hongjoong's party. Tomorrow," San answered.

"Hongjoong? You're friends with Kim Hongjoong?" Wooyoung repeated the name, backing away slightly from San.

"You know him?" San asked. Wooyoung nodded with a bewildered face, throwing a marshmallow in his mouth.

It wasn't too surprising that Wooyoung knew Hongjoong, San thought. The guy was quite the talk of the town, with his wealthy background and how he was a rather successful fledging musician. He had been producing songs, some which he'd post on soundcloud entertaining his listeners (quite a number for an ordinary person) of which San guessed a third of the university were, if not half—calling Hongjoong the respectful graduate of the academy.

There were several reasons why Hongjoong would host a party from time to time. One was that he wanted to provide entertainment for youngsters living in this middle-sized town, not carrying much to go frolic on. Another being an opportunity to blast the songs he made, and have a look at people actually enjoying them with his bare eyes. As much as art goes, it was quite a rarity to interact with people who appreciated them, and Hongjoong was the man who loved to grasp the feeling submerged in the atmosphere as a whole.

"Coming?" San prompted.

"Yup," Wooyoung answered, his faint awkwardness now completely dissipated while slight excitement coated the voice.

"You're welcome too," San flashed a smile at Yeosang who was giving a frown.

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It was only until an hour later after Wooyoung announced his departure that San finally decided to get dressed for the party. San registered in his sleepy head that Wooyoung told the man clinging on his bear plushie that he's leaving to Hongjoong's. San underwent a fierce battle with his will to keep on sleeping, skipping the party completely before he could finally stand in front of his closet, pulling out whatever seemed decent—purple silk shirt and ripped black skinny jeans.

A lot can happen in an hour of an unsurveilled party filled with high hormones of young folks. A step in, and San was brushed with an air infiltrated with all sorts of alcohol, smokes, perfumes and sweat. Hongjoong's music was bouncing such air up and down, while youths danced, chatted, made out, and whatever that fulfilled them as they unleashed their daily stress.

San, who was a regular in this house party, straight up walked to the kitchen (not forgetting to greet familiar faces passing by) to grab a drink. After chugging a glass in one go, he refilled it before he walked over to the living room with no particular aim.

He quickly scanned through the dim lit room, wondering if Wooyoung could find one or two appropriate girls to make out. Soon enough, he spotted the questioned man, standing very close to a girl with long hair, giggling. From where San was, and music blasting in the room, he couldn't hear what they were talking about, but he could clearly see how they both leaned in for a hot kiss. San pursed his lips impressed, and was also glad the boy was meeting his desire.

"Yo."

Someone tapped San's shoulder. San tilted his head and recognised the owner of the house—Hongjoong.

"I told you this song would be a bomb in your party," San grinned, raising his glass to cheer. The song currently playing was Hongjoong's recent production, which was no stranger to San. This upbeat song was his current favourite.

"Thanks. There was a guy looking for you," Hongjoong mentioned the name, which San recognised as one of his fuck buddies. The usual course of the party was for San to get drunk, make out with a couple of hot men, and decide to spend a night with one. The mentioned guy could pass, he thought, as he thanked his old friend walking off to look for the guy.

The night went on with San downing more alcohols, making out with the guy. Before he left to grab another drink, he left the guy promising him the night, so that San could explore further.

Successfully obtaining another intoxicating liquid, San walked off the kitchen not concentrating on where he was going—ending up bumping in someone, the content of the glass spilling over the other.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Are you oka-," he brushed the other's wet chest with his sleeves before he looked up to see his face that he was all too familiar with. "...Yunho."

"...San."

San wished he could take back his apology earlier on. There were too many things he regretted in his life, and Yunho was one of them, but one positive outcome through this man could've been how he learnt to suck it up, be mature and above all, to not crack his emotional side.

"What are you doing here?" he gave a foreign smile as he would a stranger, although his voice attained an unwelcoming tone. He literally wasn't welcome—Hongjoong had banned him from stepping in his house.

"I...I just came to collect Mingi," Yunho mumbled.

Mingi. Of course.

"I see," San said coldly as he walked off.

"San! I-"

San ignored the tall boy's calling. He also was aware how Yunho stared at his back intently as he walked off, but he wasn't going to turn back. Not once.

San walked in the living room in hopes to shake this vexed feeling off by some dancing, when he was met by another unexpected encounter. An unknown man pushed him with force, making him stagger back.

"You fucking whore!" he condemned. Slightly sane people around noticed what was going on and watched, taking a distance from the two.