( a scrapped draft i'll never finish, sorry abt my disappearance lol )
It’s the second wedding Jeonghan ever recalls attending in his entire life. There was his Auntie’s wedding when he was much younger, and the only memories of the event were fed to him through old film, where he stands in a dainty suit — baggy and un-ironed, his stubby and mucky fingers try & grab the uncut cake and his mother still remembers the scolding she gave him. Jeonghan is much older now, and sits on a table at his best-friend’s wedding instead, and he doesn’t think he’ll grab at the cake this time around — if he stops glugging down the cheap wine being served, that is.
The table is empty, only Jeonghan sits, swirling the last of his drink in it’s glass. He considered socialising but he stops himself — the bitter feeling of loneliness may have him say something he shouldn’t, or doesn’t mean. It’s only normal, he thinks, having to watch happy couples sway and dance to the music he seems to drown out quite easily. There’s a few people Jeonghan thinks shouldn’t be on the dancefloor, they trip over their feet and have poor rhythm, but ultimately have a smile on their face, and it fuels his bitter mood even more. Jeonghan thinks that maybe, if he had someone to bring he could also dance like a buffoon in front of everyone’s watching eyes, and still smile and laugh.
But he doesn’t, and he sits alone, slightly tipsy with a growling stomach. He stands up with wavy legs and makes his way through the loud crowd of people happier than him. The buffet is somewhat empty now, and he knows people have taken the best bits, but his stomach has probably began to eat itself by this point. He grabs a paper plate, and a splash of someone else’s wine stains the rim, but he doesn’t care enough to grab another. In front of him chicken is displayed, but it’s grey and dry-looking, and it suppresses Jeonghan’s appetite almost completely.
Jeonghan sits at the empty table again, a few broken salted crackers with cheese lay sadly on his plate, next the chicken he regrets picking up. There is a shuffle, and the chair next to him scrapes against the floor.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asks. Jeonghan doesn’t even look at first, his eyes bore into his plate as he nods mindlessly. Then, the aroma of cake fills his senses, sweet vanilla cake with sickly amounts of buttercream. The cake that was cut hours ago. Jeonghan’s eyes draw up at this, his eyes land upon a girl, visually no younger no older than him. She shovels a forkful of the cake into her mouth, oblivious to Jeonghan’s concerned stare. Had she really been walking around with a plate of cake for hours? Was it not dry and disgusting yet? She seemed to enjoy it at least.
Perhaps Jeonghan wasn’t aware of how unsettling his stare was, maybe just for the girl at least. In the corner of her eye she watched him watch her and wondered what could possibly be so entertaining or alarming about eating cake. Her chewing slowed to a halt, and she turned to look at him.
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