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“Take off your outfit.”
The fake sword in Seonghwa’s hands slipped a fraction of an inch before he caught it. He dropped his arm and let it dangle by his side while gaping at his friend. “Look, Wooyoung, I’m not sure who you think I am but San’s still in your room. It’s me, Seonghwa.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, the bangs in front of his face fluttering as he huffed. “Change. I’m not bringing you with us when you look like that.” He readjusted his hair and the gray rabbit ear headband on top of his head.
“No one’s bringing anyone anywhere—just so you know—I was invited to the party too,” said Seonghwa. He repositioned his sword so the point rested on the tile floor and propped his elbow on the hilt.
“Yet here you are in my apartment instead of your own, and for what reason?”
“Is it so wrong of me to want to get ready with my friends?” Seonghwa asked, pouting for exaggeration.
A few months ago, Hongjoong had the idea that the eight of them should do something “fun” for Halloween. To no one’s surprise, Yunho had taken the initiative to organize a little outing for them. They’d all wear their costumes and meet at his place tonight, then eat out and go shopping in one of the malls downtown.
Oh. Today was also two weeks before Halloween, meaning no one would be dressed up anywhere. The first to get embarrassed or forfeit would have to pay for everyone’s daily cafe runs for the next month. In the rare occurrence that no one did, they’d pick a loser by popular vote at the end of the night. Seonghwa thought it was stupid at first, but then he realized it was his moment to outdress everyone else and bask in a spotlight of attention, so how could he refuse?
Someone did not want that to happen.
“Wooyoung, have you seen the—” San’s figure passed across the hallway and into the kitchen. Silence. He reappeared in the hall to stare at Seonghwa over Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Who are you?”
“Seonghwa,” said Seonghwa. “What are you two?” San sported a baggy pair of khakis and an oversized green button-up. A striped blue tie hung from his neck. Wooyoung wore jeans and a police vest on top of a powder blue long-sleeve. He recognized the characters but couldn’t quite place them.
“You’re dressing up as yourself?” San slid on a headband similar to Wooyoung’s, except the ears were those of an orange cat or a fox. Meanwhile, his eyes raked over Seonghwa’s outfit two more times. “We’re Nick and Judy from Zootopia. Also, I don’t think I’ve seen you wear that before.”
“No, he’s never worn that so it’s not very accurate,” said Wooyoung.
That, meaning the most perfect outfit Park Seonghwa had put together in his twenty-something years of life. His all-black attire consisted of an airy, long-sleeve blouse tucked into pants that he wore beneath a belted, ankle-length skirt. The skirt had a slit on the side. On top of the shirt, he wore a wide belt around his torso and another leather harness with straps that hooked onto the choker on his neck. His platform boots waited by the door, but if all that wasn’t enough, he had a fake silver sword to wield too.
“I’m not actually dressed as myself,” Seonghwa said, straightening and clasping his sword again. He beamed and gestured to his outfit with the blade. “Guess what I am.”
“Death,” said San. “The Grim Reaper.”
“Toothless the dragon,” said Wooyoung.
“No,” Seonghwa frowned. “No. And no. Why would a dragon have a sword and wear all this?”
“You’re not a dragon. Are you deciding what a dragon can and can’t wear?” Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.
“What? No, but—”
“Then did a dragon go up to you and tell you that it hates skirts and harnesses?”
“No, but how would it be able to fly if it was wearing a—”
“Surely they’d have other styles for them. Which means you’re saying that if you’re shaped differently you can’t wear—”
“When did I say that?” Seonghwa asked, pointing the tip of his sword at Wooyoung.
“And now he’s threatening me with a weapon, San, look at this guy.”
“Please,” said San, batting Wooyoung away from his arm. “I only wanted to know what his costume was.”
Seonghwa blinked. “I’m a pirate.” He ran his fingers along the skirt's pleats and hooked his thumb around his harness.
His friends eyed each other.
“Well, you’re not being a pirate today because I’m making you change,” said Wooyoung. He detached himself from San and crossed his arms.
“Why? It looks good,” San said with a shrug.
“That’s the problem here, San. I can’t lose to him. So annoying.” Wooyoung let out an exasperated sigh and gestured at Seonghwa. “I’m joking—but seriously—find something else. With all those straps and fabric I can’t tell if you’re late to fashion week or if you’re on your way to a—”
“Okay!” San exclaimed, rushing forward and nudging Seonghwa back into the guest bedroom.
“I’m protecting his image,” said Wooyoung, leaning against the doorframe.
“From who?” San asked.
“Yunho. Mingi.” He shivered. “Hongjoong. All of them, if I’m being real. Yeosang can mutter some pretty foul things when you aren’t paying attention.”
“But when am I ever going to wear something like this again?” whined Seonghwa. He really did want to wear the outfit. If he wasn’t drowning in coursework or wasting time with his friends, he had been looking for these clothes. It had taken him months to gather all of the items since he preferred to try things on in person rather than risk buying the wrong size or style online.
“You can’t possibly go out in public like that, you’ll lose immediately.” Wooyoung caught San’s attention and eyed him long enough to make Seonghwa have second thoughts. “It’s too extravagant and intimidating for a silly Halloween outing.”
“He’s right, Seonghwa. We’re all going to be in fun little outfits and you’re going to make people uncomfortable,” said San.
“And,” added Wooyoung, “what if there are kids? No, not if—there will be kids. What happens when they see you in your chunky platform stompers holding a big pointy sword like a monster out to get them?”
“Then I’ll leave the sword.”
“But you still have all those straps and chains,” said San, shaking his head. “And with the boots, you might be taller than Yunho. You do look scary.”
“You’re messing with me,” he scoffed. The two remained silent. Seonghwa laced his fingers together. “Right?”
“Why would we mess with you about something like this? Are you accusing us of hating children?” prodded Wooyoung. “We’re trying to protect them from seeing something scary.”
San bit back a smile at the “something scary” and Seonghwa glared.
He opened his mouth again but closed it after sighing in defeat. “I suppose you conveniently happen to have an extra costume lying around for me to borrow.”
“Of course,” grinned Wooyoung. He waved him away. “Go ahead and start taking off all those buckles, I’ll have San give you your outfit.”
“You’re saying that like you planned it all along.”
“I know you. We bought one just in case because you were either going to show up wearing a sweater and jeans because this is all ‘too embarrassing’ or… that.” Wooyoung gave him a pointed stare.
They closed him into the room and Seonghwa was left to figure out how to untangle all the straps. It took him a good ten minutes to remove them. He had begun to panic as his fingers scrambled to free himself from all of the restraints. What was he thinking, wearing all this? Sure, maybe he looked good, but he’d find another place to wear the outfit. The two must’ve been right after all.
After he changed out, San took his clothes to hang them. He exchanged his bundle for something shockingly pink folded in a plastic bag, then slammed the door shut as soon as he passed it to Seonghwa.
The outfit in question made him audibly gasp.
After contemplating for another long minute, he changed into it and examined himself in front of the mirror hanging from the door.
“Wooyoung,” said Seonghwa.
The tread of feet grew closer from the other side of the door. “Yes?”
“Forget it. Let me borrow some of your regular clothes.”
“If you do that, that’s a strike against participation which means you’re paying for all of our coffee,” said Wooyoung in a singsong voice.
Seonghwa opened the door and stepped out, expression blank. The two already stood in the hallway, ready to leave.
“Told you it’s the right size,” Wooyoung muttered to San. “You’re about the same height. The only reason it didn’t fit you is because your shoulders are the size of me and him standing side by side. He looks fine.”
“I still think Kuromi would’ve matched him better,” San frowned.
“This is your definition of fine?” Seonghwa extended his arms so they could see how much bubblegum pink he was wrapped in. They’d given him a fuzzy, all-pink, full-body onesie. The only parts of him free of the fluff were his face, feet, and hands. To make matters worse, he also had a matching My Melody beanie complete with a blue bow and floppy pink bunny ears. The ends of the ears brushed against his forehead as he stared at the newfound enemies responsible for his downfall.
“I look like I belong in a claw machine.”
“It suits you,” said Wooyoung.
Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you look like a cute little—well, you’re not that little. You look like a happy squishy bunny that won’t scare anyone while we’re out. If you hate it so much, why did you change in the first place?”
“Because San took all my clothes! This is worse than my pirate costume,” said Seonghwa, flicking the ears away from his face. “The rabbit ears are humiliating.”
“Oh? But Wooyoung and I are wearing animal ears too,” said San.
“That’s different. Everyone can tell who you are. I just look weird.”
“Pretend you’re an idol at a fan sign,” Wooyoung shrugged.
“Is that what you're telling yourself?” Seonghwa eyed them, San unphased while Wooyoung readjusted his hair around the fox ears. “It’s useless trying to argue with you. I changed my mind. I don’t care. Give me back my clothes.”
Neither of them moved.
“About that. Sannie accidentally spilled some cola on your shirt and it seeped through the fabric and onto the pants so I plopped everything into the washer,” said Wooyoung with a sly smile.
“You put my entire outfit in the washing machine.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I’m assuming you already dumped a cup of detergent in and started the load, then.”
“Yup.”
At that moment, a not-so-subtle swish came from down the hallway. Seonghwa pointed to his sword leaning against the wall. “If that thing was real, I would’ve had the two of you skewered on it like a pair of grape tanghulu by now.”
“Very intimidating,” said San with a straight face. “I’m afraid of the pink man threatening me in his bunny onesie.”
“Lucky for us, that thing is made out of sponge instead of metal, and we’re all going to be late if we don’t leave within the next minute,” said Wooyoung.
“What? No, I’m not leaving until I ch—” Seonghwa gasped as Wooyoung grabbed him by the ears of his beanie and pulled him towards the door.
San’s giggling was cut off by a slap to the neck courtesy of Seonghwa’s palm.
⚬⬫✷—⧗—✷⬫⚬
At least $500 of Seonghwa’s expenses were dedicated to cafes for the next month.