Nicholas

I’m standing next to Maki, my eyes unsteady, wandering the room, when Euijoo brushes by me.

He turns back to look; his face lights up, a drunk sparkle in his eyes.

“Nichol!” he says.

Nichol?

He’s never called me that before. Never anything but Nicholas. I want to hate it, but I can’t. I want to hear him call me it every day.

Coming closer, he throws his arms around my neck. I stiffen, but only for a second, my body automatically calming again, at his weight on me.

“I’m having so much fun, Nichol?” His smile is so big. So happy.

Maki, next to me, is clearly holding in a laugh. I’d jab him in the ribs if Euijoo weren’t holding onto me right now.

His fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. It feels so foreign yet so natural at the same time. I’ve only ever allowed family to touch my hair.

“Joo, how much have you had to drink?” I ask worriedly. “Aren’t your friends keeping tabs on you?”

“Nic?” He asks, looking around the immediate area around me, tugging on my neck as he does, not letting go.

His face scowls when he looks back at me.

“Where’s your date?” He asks.

“We’re not dating Joo,” I explain. “My job as her date officially ended after the dance.”

“Yeah, but didn’t you ride here together?”

I’m internally smirking. Why is he so concerned about where Minju is? He wouldn’t be jealous, would he?

“I explained to her that I had no intentions of dating her,” I say, looking him in the eye. “And I’m not her keeper,” I add. "Besides, I rode here with Maki technically.”

“Euijoo,” Maki cuts in, "do you know where Harua is?”

His eyebrows scrunch together, looking over at Maki. He starts to sway, but before I can grab him, Sungho is there, grabbing him by the waist, pulling him off me.