Burnout ⊗ Jeongchan

④⓪ Throne

"Cheers!"

Their shots clinked together above the table while Jeongin angrily slurped on his apple juice next to Chan, a few of the crew members then taking the few seconds after to slug back what little was in the cheap dollar store glasses Chan, Minho, and him managed to find while waiting to check out at the corner store. Save for Chan and Changbin who placed his glass on the table and hesitated to even touch it, respectively. A few straws scattered around the table as well, though no one truly cared to use them and instead opted to live it up, party it up, as Hyunjin said with an entertainingly dry air about him.

Changbin glanced from the shot in his hands to the crew members standing around him, a sigh on his lips as he asked, "What are we celebrating again?"

"Pick something, anything, and celebrate it. Today you finished the last of that chicken, today you got your hand stuck in a jar and you didn't have to amputate it, today you uhhh," Jisung temporarily lowered his glass, eyes drifting around as he quickly thought of another reason to list off. Upon finding nothing, he raised his glass even higher and gave a thumbs up, "You're alive, that's sometimes pretty big. Celebrate it."

Minho shrugged as he downed another shot, "I'm using this as a way to get sloshed."

"'Sloshed', classy," Hyunjin quipped as he lazily balanced the rim of the shot glass on his lip, and took quiet sips from the glass, completely ignoring the entire purpose of the glass as he turned it to a delicate object akin to a teacup owned by a proper cavalier of wealthy status.

"Sloshed, plastered, inebriated, hammered, tanked, loaded, fried, pie-eyed, buzzed," Minho listed as he stared down the gentleman in training without mercy, each word rolling off his tongue as if he rehearses them to a finite perfection every morning before his excuse of a breakfast that was most likely reheated ramen from the night before. He then turned up his chin, a taunting tone to his voice as he courageously place his shot glass on the table and challenged, "Dare I keep going?"

With narrowed eyes, Hyunjin pressed, "I dare you."

"Don't encourage the beast, be smart," Changbin quipped into their conversation, a hard glare settling over his features as the two in their heated betting match backed down and returned to their seats with unhappy stares being shot back and forth. After a while of their quiet argument through, Changbin's face contorted into an expression Jeongin could only describe as a wistful scowl. The street racer said, "I keep getting this weird feeling like..."

"Like?"

"I don't know. But there's this silence in the air that wasn't there before," Changbin ran a finger over the rim of his shot glass, the other arm lazily folding over his chest as he did so. The glass under his scrutiny clicked on the wooden table. He stopped and placed his hand facedown on the table, "It's unsettling."

"You worry too much. Enjoy yourself," Jisung laughed easily.

But even as he forced down his shot, his expression never changed. Slowly, it became unnoticed by the rest of the crew as they carried on with their usual banter. Jeongin, too, had come to pass it off as nothing more than a suspicion and moved on.

"Can I try a little?" Jeongin leaned over to Chan, shifting slightly in his seat as he placed his nearly empty juice box on the table; half frustrated he was forced to drink a juice box and half compelled because of the strangely fascinating bendable straw that made weird noises whenever he moved it. He folded his hands carefully between his thighs in an attempt to make himself look as small as possible to convince the older.

Chan quirked an eyebrow, gaze flicking up and down his form as he reiterated, "A little."

In turn, the younger nodded, "A tiny bit."