Somewhere, in a Gangnam penthouse, psychedelic colors swam against a deceptively human crowd.
The people here spun in circles to disco and traded smiles with the clinking of champagne glasses. The woman of this house commanded immortal wealth. She’s a vampire but lived like she was due to die tomorrow. Supernatural parties were one of her favorite pastimes, and why he was stuck on a couch between a werewolf couple, acting as a mediator to drunken drama.
“You were gone on the full moon again!”
“You’re my wife - not my watcher!”
Minho sipped his beer as they bickered. Their knees pressed into his sides, dog-like breath hot on his face. People danced around them, laughing and kissing and, sometimes, disappearing. He sunk lower into the plush black velvet and wondered how to join the happy people. Everyone dressed in retro styles, the mismatch of 70s, 80s, and 90s made a sea of polka dots and bright, aggressive color. His acid wash jean jacket scratched his sensitive skin. Then, he saw her.
He squinted before he jumped up, pushed himself away from the couple, and called a name across the dance floor. “Xuilannie!” Minho shimmied past the dancers and made it to the other side disheveled, barely able to keep his beer from spilling. “Hey, it’s good to see you again!” He started, and realized, in a beat of stunned silence, the implication of her being here. Xuilan is human, right? Maybe not.
Minho smiled. pushing away assumptions. Sure, she might have been paid to show up as a human juice box, but what did that matter? Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What are you doing here? Do you know the madam?” Minho asked, referring to their bloodthirsty host.
if there’s any way easier to incorporate oneself into a new environment, it’s by the social scene. universally, it seemed all supernaturally hosted parties were the same, and how better to ease in comfortably then one of the places xuilan felt most comfortable? right in the middle of chaos.
there’s plenty of faces in attendance that she doesn’t know, and only a few she’s met less than a handful of times since relocating to the country, the near-overbearing neons and patterns only making it harder to pick out the acquaintances she had. without much effort, xuilan’s own daily attire fit the party’s theme rather well, even if it was a somewhat understated tribute to the 90s grunge era of fashion. and at parties, she’s very social, albeit with a drink in hand more than most of the time. helps dull the feelings, she says, though it’s more a personal habit of her own avoidance than any reason she tries to convince herself of otherwise, more old habits die hard than actual want of alcoholic company.
just as she manages to make her way into the heart of the party, the dance floor, she hears her name called, already whirling around to meet the voice, her brows raised in surprise at the sight of a disheveled minho in front of her, looking every bit comfortable and yet out of place at the same time. momentarily taken by surprise, she recovers, plastering a grin on quickly.
“minho!” xuilan half laughs, “it’s good to see you too! you look..” she pauses ever so slightly, taking in his state “great, actually.” as much as she tries to ignore it, she picks up on the moment of doubt, though minho’s really only mirrors her own. he wasn’t the type to just hang around parties like this if he were human, not that xuilan had thought, at least.
do you know the madam? rings in her head, and she shrugs, “well, i don’t know her specifically but i do know of her.” she responds, glancing in what she assumes is the hostess’s direction. “how about you though, huh? i never pegged you for a party-goer.” she teases.
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