it’s just a party, she said. ( j & h )
tusunns
The champagne, more or less. Was a peace offering for her, and a lay off temptation for him. Something in his jeans, and his genes alike, make him have an aversion to alcohol. His mom doesn’t like seeing it in his hands and she’ll only fake out her guests with one glass before switching to water. His stepfather is the same, they prefer to keep him and the rest of the family from alcohol. While Jaesun doesn’t think it could be a gene thing, they certainly do, and they want him to stay as far away from it as possible. However, his parents couldn’t really prevent what college brought on and though Jaesun fits nicely into their atmosphere and blends right, he always feels a little rough. Always feels like he’s got something peeking out when he doesn’t. And the drink loosens and helps. Even just a sip.
It’s bad but, it’s what he uses. Just how he uses his mother’s suggestion to get out of the crowd and fix his tie that’s a little too tight. He’s accustomed to the fit, accustomed to his mother’s smile that gets him to wear it more and fuss less. He’s older now, he can’t tug and complain like he wants. Maybe when they’re home and laughing about stuffy gets and stuffier rooms, with his trust letting his stepfather’s arm replace his own around his mother. Maybe then. But not now, now he tries his best for her. Swirls the glass for a few times and keeps his focus on his objective.
To talk to the Lee’s daughter and maybe try not to offend her too much. A step that’s probably been scratched through already.
Jaesun’s met a lot of people through these parties. Big people with brands so wild he knows them before he meets them. Smaller people with auras so scattered he can’t bear more than five minutes. He tries to stay away from people his age mainly because, his parents get weird ideas and he’s more tempted to be how he is normally. And he has a hard enough time being picturesque as it is. It’s been a while since he carried such a reputation and though - in the beginning it was a reputation for his mother’s sake, now it’s a company and a father and a legacy. That’s a lot. Too much. He can’t be a stoic and rash as usual, quick-tongued because he’s supposed to be silver-tongued, something neither him nor his mother are good at. Go figure.
That’s why for the first few minutes he’s just staring. Staring at the glass and then at the woman before him. The Lee’s daughter, too close in age for him to try and act as cool as possible. Too brash for him to consider his parent’s sake in all of this. So he shrugs his shoulders and downs the champagne. Classy right?
“Alcohol, is and will always be a perfect conversation starter. I don’t know what kind of people you’ve hung out with that use it to coerce things, but I needed it. Since I drank it, there’s no questioning my intentions right?” He rolls his shoulders, his neck and feels the tension seeping out for the first time in the entire night. “What’s low? Assuming something so low of something before they even introduce themselves. That’s fine though, I might deserve it since I did come over here because my mother sent me. But it’s a good break from the crowd, so I thank you miss Lee.” He smiles, a little crooked, a little more genuine than the bright ones the party-goers get. “If you’re leaving that party for the same reasons as me, it’s rude of me to interrupt your time huh? Hate to say it but, if I head back now, my mom will think I skipped out on talking to you and send me back.”
She squared herself. She hated that she had to do this, she was not that type of person. Haeri was social, she liked being introduced to people, she loved it even more when they figured they probably didn’t want to ever talk to her ever again after the first conversation. But she even loved it even more than more when they stuck around even with if they’d throw at her dubious gazes now and then.
She liked people who were curious and wanted to see if she was for real or not, she enjoyed that game of ‘she’s probably not like that all the time.’ it was a fun game to win. Because while she may be friendly, and social, her and her whole family knew that she had an oddity to her that of course, her mother wanted to rectify each and every time she could manage to. It worked. Sometimes. Other times, there were moments like these.
When she was tired of all the controlling, the pulling, the gears shifting in directions she did not wish for them to. She could be agreeable, she loved being agreeable, whenever she could. God knew, she could alright, she didn’t try to come off as bitter or detestable, it was just some tick she was born with. As if any human beings was born with a need to be hated.
But there were times and moments, when yes, it was a blatant choice. Whether there was guilt or not, it was there for her to get a hold of before it left her. In this situation, if it did end up leaving her--she could hear the bell rings and see the altar and her mother’s victorious expression and the white dress and the roses and the church--if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d squared herself right before that moment, she might have started having a panic attack.
“Alcohol first of, tastes foul. Second of, it alters your way of thinking and it is most definitely not a good way to get loose or perfect to start anything. Plus, if you’re not loose to begin with then there’s the idea that maybe you’re just not at ease with were you are which means that you should maybe go back to where you can be at ease, logical? Why stay in a situation where you’d need to loosen up for a simple conversation starter, that’s unneeded stress.” Honestly, unneeded, unwanted, unsolicited.
“Should I write a note that says that I was the one who agreed to send you back? Will that do the trick? So you mom doesn’t pull on your ears for leaving a lady behind when the mission was to warm her up to--” She pursed er mouth then, swallowed the words. She shouldn’t that brash or forthcoming with it. If anything that meant that at least he wasn’t ere willingly, there was hope. A big fat hope that he might take her attitude as it was and leave her be, a big fat hope that was making her move to where she’d been heading to begin with.
“Follow me to the study room then, I’ll give you a permission. I’ve got plenty of ink and plenty of paper.” So she turned her scowl to stride down the hall, gone was the grace she’d left the party with and those heels were now meeting the hell that was her usual stomping down the hall of this mansion.
