POUR UP, 00298Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpP02cNwd7B
❛ just take my hand my baby ❜
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THE PLUSH headphones sit atop the busy man's head as his angelic voice flies through the recording room. Dean has been recording vocals over the melodic tracks all morning and hadn't planned to stop. Alas, he didn't account for his troubling thoughts distracting him.
The separation still leans heavily upon his mind as he tries his best to give his all to the melody. A long sigh is released from his chest as he finally sets himself in his chair. He lifts his cell phone into view to check any silent notifications he may have received whilst he was focusing on his music.
Dean found a few missed calls from Won-Shik. A tired sigh flies from him as he guesses his intentions behind the call. Knowing the man, he's probably reaching out to get him away from his home for a few hours. Or perhaps the entire night, as Won-Shik has a hard time considering everyone's liquor and social limit.
However, a differing opinion crosses Dean's mind.
There is a difference between the night three days ago and his friend's failed attempts to make him forget the great heartbreak.
That woman.
At the sheer mention of her, Dean folds his lip as his heart thumps. The short moment between him and the anonymous woman was electrifying. It almost stings that he doesn't have a name to pin to the glamorous face. And those lips... so soft and sweet.
He quickly shakes his head hoping the thoughts will dissipate as he decides to return Won-Shik's missed calls.
"Hey," Dean monotonously answers the call before being cut off by an energetic tone.
"Ya! Where have you been, I called like three times!"
"Chill. I was recording, I had my phone on silent." He calmly explains as he leans his phone away from his ear to escape his ringing voice, "What's going on?"
"Alright, so, you know Hye-Jin, right?"
"The girl you broke up with two weeks ago?" Dean checks his facts.
"Yeah," Wonshik chuckles at the poor reason he had given her, "Anyways, she contacted me and said she's back in town. She said she wanted to hang out. I asked if we're bringing friends and she said we could make it a group thing. So, how about it? Same club as last week?"
Dean pauses as the obvious decision is no, yet his mind wanders back to the flirtatious woman.
"Hello? You still there?" Won-shik checks that his friend hasn't clicked off the call.
"Yeah, I'm here. You know what, I'll go," Dean agrees to the plans with a hidden motive.
"Oh shit! You serious?" Won-Shik jumps at the unexpected answer, "Ya, I thought I was going to have to drag you out again."
Dean gives an empty chuckle, "Yeah, not this time."
"Alright, be ready in about twenty. We bout to hop in the car, peace."
"Alright, hyung. Bye," Dean pushes the red button to end the call. He heavily sighs as determination fills his senses. He shuts his laptop and unplugs various cords before beginning to get ready for a hopefully lively night.
Fishing through his closet, Dean settles on a short-sleeved black shirt. Matching black slacks cover his legs as he searches for a stylish belt. Glancing at his appearance in the elongated mirror, Dean decides to unbutton a few white buttons on his top for a sexy flare. Dean reaches for a few silver rings and his flashy, diamond studs to accentuate the outfit. He turns to his bathroom to fix his black locks into place.
Coincidently, Dean's phone gives an alerting buzz to Won-Shik's arrival. He quickly hypes himself off before grabbing his necessities and slipping his feet into his suede shoes. He flees down the picturesque staircase to meet the party men outside.
"Wow," Won-Shik humorously drags before taking a hit of his dirty cigarette. "You like nice."
Dean rolls his eyes at the joking man before taking a seat in the back.
As the men enter the busy roads, Won-Shik shifts in his seat to face Dean with a goofy expression. "Who's the getup for?"
"Mind your business," Dean deflects Won-Shik's question, trying to remain playful.
"Oh my bad," Won-Shik holds his hands in the air and releases a haughty laugh. "This prick already found somebody!"
The rest of his friends pipe in with boisterous laughter, riding on Won-Shik's accusations.
"Ya, is that true?" The men bombard him with questions.
"No, no it's not," Dean tries to shut their questions down, but Won-Shik continues to pester the quiet man. Dean's secrecy isn't a secret among the group, as he prefers to keep his business to himself. They all respected him to a degree, yet it seems that Won-Shik can't bring himself to lighten up.
"Ya, it took you months to let us know about the last one. How can we believe you now," Won-Shik chuckles as the radio blasts loudly with the carrying air from the open windows.
"I only did that because I wanted to make sure it was perfect, but that doesn't matter anymore. I don't have someone new. And besides it's too early," he reasons as he fidgets with his hands. The reason speaks to the truth, so why does his brain constantly run the image of the woman without a name? "Anyways, look we're here," Dean tries to shift Won-Shik's focus, which he easily succeeds in.
Won-Shik quickly turns his attention to the blasting club and hurries everyone toward the busy entrance. Yet again with the sheer mention of a famous name, they're let in ahead of the lengthy line.
The group moves through the crowd of bodies and upward to their section, where the women lie waiting for their arrival. Won-Shik greets the girls with high spirits waiting for someone to pass him a glass full of alcohol. The rest of the men follow his lead, each of them taking a girl's side as Dean sticks to the railing with his own agenda.
As the lasers beam loudly, Dean has begun to lose his sense of time. His eyes raid the crowd searching for a glimpse of familiarity.
However, it never arrives.
He turns back to his friends trying to secure a woman to accompany them for the unplanned night. His sigh goes unheard by the booming music, as he wanders if they ever grow tired of the routine. Dean decides he has had enough for the night and turns to flee downward toward the exit. He plans to text the others later about his early departure because if he turns to notify them, he'll be stuck for the rest of the night.
The doors squeak open as he stumbles from the entrance into the contrasting nippy midnight air. Leaning off towards the side of the building, Dean reaches into his pockets fetching for a cigarette. He knows he shouldn't be lighting the substance, still he continues to light a fire.
Another group of partygoers passes him, although his ears land on a single, distinctive voice. Dean's head snaps in the woman's direction, hoping he's correct.
Fortunately, there she is.
A deep, purple dress clings to her figure as she struts happily. The dress slit landing on her lower body hypnotizes Dean. Her face is beautifully painted with colors to match her outfit for the night.
As Dean continues to let the woman pass as he relentlessly gazes, it seems she notices his stare.
Her tongue swipes her lips as she tilts her head recognizing the man from one of her previous visits to the club. She slowly smiles as she closes the distance that lies between them.
"Well, well, well," she greets the stunned man as she gently takes the cigarette and places it on her lips. "Looking for me?"
He quickly gulps down his nerves, "Maybe." She giggles handing him back the cigarette covered in mocha lipgloss.
"Well, then a maybe for me too," She admits as he doesn't catch on.
"What do you mean?" Dean calms himself as he almost trips on his words.
"Maybe, I've been looking for you as well," she spells it out for him. "My friends can't leave this place alone, and they've been dragging me along. You would think my recent breakup would tell them to leave me in my pajamas with a tub of ice cream. But they never seem to catch the hint."
Dean's head tilts as her story is relatable, "It seems we've been living the same lives. Another party and another invitation, but I'd rather be at home."
She surprisingly meets his eyes as she didn't expect an answer from him. Yet, her head quickly turns at her impatient friends. "It seems our time is cut short once again," she kindly smiles as she begins to step away.
Dean grits his teeth as his hand reaches for her waist. He roughly pulls her back in as he gazes at her with sudden confidence, "If you're going to go, I might as well get your number this time. You know, so we can continue this conversation."
She giggles at the request, nonetheless, she proceeds to type her number into the eager man's phone. "Call me whenever," she moves to speak his name, but realizes they had never exchanged them.
"It's Dean," he chuckles.
"Nari."
Dean gives a small grin as her friends grow louder. "Well, Dean, I do have to go but use my number," Nari leaves a touch of her lipstick shade on his cheek.
Dean bites his cheek as he watches Nari fade away into the nightclub, yet his heart glows at the promise of something more.
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