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It took Eunbyeol what felt like hours to push her way through the crowd that had gathered in the room, even though she could have sworn she had only moved a short distance. Regret for having ignored the party planning weighed down each step, tempered only by the knowledge that she really didn’t have the time, considering her exams, and she had trusted Jaehee’s judgment.
She had, however, forgotten that Jaehee could do little when it came to containing everyone else’s enthusiasm for the event, and between the excitement of having their leader returned to them and the general Christmas spirit, the small holiday party she had originally envisioned had spun utterly out of control.
Finally, she sidestepped yet another unfamiliar woman before arriving in front of Jumin, who raised an eyebrow at her, no doubt questioning her somewhat disheveled appearance. He, of course, was as impeccably dressed as always and seemed utterly unaffected by the mass of individuals pressing in on them, even when more than a few of them seemed intent on capturing his attention in whatever way possible.
Damn him and his unflappable attitude.
“Jumin, what on Earth is this?”
He offered her a placid blink. “A Christmas celebration, as you requested, if I recall correctly.”
“If I recall correctly,” she said in as mocking of a mimicry as she could manage, “I requested a small celebration. And instead, you invited over how many people to the holiday party?!”
His expression didn’t change. “A few dozen, perhaps. It’s hardly worth getting worked up over.”
Staring at him for several seconds in disbelief, jaw practically hanging open at the hinges, would only amuse him and she knew it, but she still couldn’t stop herself. As expected, the hint of a smirk curled his lips, though thankfully, she was saved from further ridicule by Jaehee materializing beside her, clad in simple but elegantly festive gold attire and carrying her typical clipboard.
Unfortunately, the other woman’s expression did not bode well for the general state of the party and she heaved a sigh, somehow already exhausted despite it still being early evening.
Jumin, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious; he turned to her, expression frustratingly constant. “Ah, Assistant Kang, there you are. Have you seen Jihyun?”
Jaehee’s lips thinned. “No, but I believe we have bigger concerns, such as identifying who thought letting Seven go anywhere near the refreshments before the start of the party was a good idea.” Glasses glinting disapprovingly, she turned and nearabout plucked the hacker in question out of the crowd.
Eunbyeol watched as bright golden eyes darted from Jaehee to her before Seven grinned, angelic enough that suspicion crawled up her spine, even as Jaehee’s expression soured even further. “What’s the issue here?”
Before the other woman could begin to formulate a response, she cut in, holding out what she hoped was a placating hand. “Jaehee, why don’t you see if you can salvage whatever mess Seven left with the refreshments?”
The look she received in return could only be described as skeptical, but Jaehee left nonetheless, thankfully just before Seven’s smile turned into a mock look of outrage. “What? Little ol’ Seveny, leave a mess by the food? I would never!”
She heaved a sigh, barely resisting the urge to massage her forehead; the festivities had only just begun, after all. “Seven. What did you do?”
“Eunbyeol?” Before Seven could reply, Jihyun’s voice cut through the din and she turned to find him with a bottle of… Was that… rum in his hand?
Her heart sank. “Seven!”
Something about her tone must have caught his attention; he started, something resembling guilt working its way into his features… or maybe that was just concern for his own wellbeing. Still, he schooled his face into some semblance of innocence with terrifying alacrity. “Yes, our dearest party coordinator?”
“Would you care to explain to us why you were by the refresh—? Wait…” Her gaze darted from the bottle in her boyfriend’s hand to the faint look of worry in Seven’s eyes. “Saeyoung Choi, did you spike the eggnog?”
He didn’t answer, though since that was because he had dissolved into a fit of giggles that would put an infatuated schoolgirl to shame, he certainly didn’t need to. The urge to slam her head against the nearest hard surface intensified, especially as Jihyun snickered, an indulgent grin on his face.
“Seven!” Her exclamation cracked through the air, loud enough that several guests turned to look. Waving them off with the most reassuring smile she could muster, she lowered her voice with some difficulty. “How could you?”
He shrugged, mostly unrepentant. “It’s not like anybody here is underaged.”
“Irrelevant. Besides, that doesn’t mean everyone here necessarily wants spiked eggnog, or can handle… how much rum did you put in there anyway?”
She wasn’t sure whether it was foolishness or self-preservation that kept his mouth shut but at that point, she hardly cared. Instead, she—barely—restrained herself to a glare that vowed painful retribution post-party, which he blithely ignored as he turned away, given his parting inquiry of whether he could prepare a Honey Buddha Chip creme brûlée as the centerpiece for dessert.
“No, you’ll burn the house down.” Her snapped response was perhaps louder than required, especially given the number of guests who seemed already curious as to what had her in such a tizzy, but given the circumstances, she frankly couldn’t care less.
Especially since, beside her, Jihyun made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.
Thankfully, Jumin proved to be considerably more helpful than her significant other and offered both a pen to change the label and to pacify potentially discontent guests while she rectified the situation and pointedly ignored Jihyun’s hastily stifled laughter. Offering two final disdainful glances and one grateful one, she hurried to the refreshments table.
Much to her relief, the eggnog appeared to be mostly untouched, though whether that was from lack of interest or from experience, she couldn’t quite be sure. At any rate, it wouldn’t change the extra security which came from having a proper label, and ideally prevent the occurrence of any drunken mishaps.
Said hope was swiftly dashed as soon as she spotted Yoosung across the room with what must have been a second or third cup of eggnog; he had been a lightweight when she first met him and the ensuing years had done nothing to change that, judging from his slight swaying. Meanwhile, Zen seemed to be too busy entertaining the rest of their guests—and being fawned over by the multitude of women whom Jumin had apparently decided to invite—to notice much of anything, much less the predicament of his pseudo-sibling.
Spectacular.
Sighing, she wove her way through the neverending crowd, wondering how Jaehee had ever managed to maintain order in the past. Whatever Jumin paid her could never be enough, not that she was going to complain at the moment. Making a mental note to request Jumin grant his assistant a long vacation, she arrived beside Yoosung just in time to stop him from downing his most recent glass.
“Eunbyeol!” His exuberant cry of her name was worryingly slurred, though admittedly not as much as she had feared.
Still, it was enough so that she cast her gaze about until she spotted Zen, still engrossed in enchanting the guests around him. There was no subtle way of attracting his attention, not against the fawning masses, and if she were to be entirely honest with herself, any such method wouldn’t have been enough to assuage her frustration after having to deal with Seven’s latest escapade.
Instead, she contented herself with snatching Yoosung’s wrist and bodily tugging him in Zen’s direction. She still had a polite smile affixed to her lips to assuage the concerns of the guests around them, but it was something, at least, to vent her exasperation.
Luckily for everyone involved, their resident musical celebrity was surprisingly willing to keep an eye on Yoosung, even in spite of the still ongoing party. It was enough so that, in any other situation, she would have dared to question whether Zen was still working on convincing Seven to create a babysitter license for him. In light of her frustration with Seven, however, she only thanked him again, the hint of desperation in her voice apparently audible enough that his brow furrowed with concern and he turned to her.
“What happened?”
She made a face. “Seven.”
“Ah.” Sympathy colored Zen’s tone. “What did he do this time?”
“Spike the eggnog and I’m not even sure what else but I’m sure there’s something.”
She received a wry chuckle in return. “No doubt. It’s Seven we’re talking about, after all.”
“I just hope he holds off until after this is over.”
Keen red eyes met hers. “Not the party you were hoping for?”
The sound that escaped her lips could only be a snort. “That obvious, huh? No, I was thinking something much smaller. I’m just glad Jumin decided to play host; I don’t even want to think about having to clean up my apartment after a soirée of this scale.”
“Would you look at that? The Trust Fund Kid is good for something after all.”
“Zen…”
He grinned back with an air of feigned innocence. “Old habits die hard?”
She rolled her eyes, though with a smile of her own, as she lightly swatted at his arm. “To be fair, he’s being much more helpful than Jihyun is. He at least helped with mitigating Seven’s mess while our glorious leader just egged him on.”
“Hey!”
At the loud cry in her ear, Eunbyeol jumped, nearly bowling Zen over. By the time she had regained her equilibrium, Yoosung was already trying to cut a stumbling path through the crowd, seemingly fixated on something in the distance. Or perhaps more accurately, the two women frozen underneath, both looking upward.
“Jaehee!”
At Yoosung’s second drunken bellow, she leapt forward, catching him before he could move any closer and manage to draw more attention to the scene than he already had, gesturing wildly at the woman in question. As it was, Jaehee was already turning a very interesting shade of pink, sneaking occasional glances at her companion, a tall, thankfully amused looking woman she vaguely recognized as the owner of a little cafe that opened just down the street from the C&R building.
Though, was that mistletoe hanging from the ceiling?
God, there was no way this could end well.
Before she could ruminate farther on the best punishment for Seven and likely Jihyun as well, Yoosung broke out of her grasp and pointed a finger at the duo. “Hey, Jaehee, you’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss already!”
She froze, torn between a horrible desire to laugh or to slam her head repeatedly into the nearest wall in the face of the mess that her innocent suggestion for a party had become. Luckily, Zen’s reaction time was not similarly impaired.
“Yoosung!” He darted forward, face torn between amusement and concern, and pulled the boy aside, covering his mouth with one hand. “That’s enough for you, kid.”
Ignoring the muffled protests coming from behind their makeshift gag as Yoosung was dragged away, she turned back to the pair still frozen under the mistletoe to find Jaehee slowly turning a truly impressive shade of vermillion. From behind the fake spectacles, frantic brown eyes darted from the plant hanging innocently over her head to the woman standing across from her in rapid and undisguisable panic.
Before Eunbyeol could attempt to calm the situation, however, the other woman quickly met her gaze with what could only be described as a reassuring glance before stepping closer to Jaehee. Warmth sparkled in her eyes, along with mischief and… interest?
Well, that certainly explained why she had run into Jaehee there every time she chose to visit the cafe, at least.
“May I?”
Cheers erupted from her other side even before Jaehee, eyes wider than she’d ever seen them, nodded and Eunbyeol turned to find that in the chaos, Seven and Jihyun had maneuvered closer and were both grinning at the spectacle, the former with an expression of pride. Said triumphant grin morphed into a smirk as soon as he noticed her gaze and she groaned at the inevitable gloating she’d no doubt soon be on the receiving end of before returning back to the dessert table and the spiked eggnog.
God, she needed a drink.