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Summary
“We’ve met, actually,” Minho informs Chan, mercifully tearing his gaze away from Jeongin. He takes a dainty sip of his drink – a cocktail of sorts, tequila sunrise maybe, gauging by its color palette, but Jeongin isn’t an expert on mixology.
“Oh!” Chan seems delighted by this piece of information. “Where?”
“Iyennie had a massive crush on me in high school.”
Jeongin splutters into his glass.
