hamin/hyomin;; wrecked
Hyomin downs shot after shot, determined to get smashed in the worst (best? It depends on one's mind frame, really, she thinks, and how one would view the entire situation) way possible. Fun, fun, fucking fun, has been her mantra for the entire night so far and that isn't going to change just because of... certain setbacks involving her ex.
Yes, that's right ex, she reminds herself as she downs another vodka shot. And it's going to stay that way forever, she tells herself, more decided than ever. No more Joon detours--it's unhealthy for her, and this time she's really going to make sure of it. I love you. It's kind of funny how those three words chased her away, instead of reeling her in but hearing them from his lips just somehow proved to her exactly how fucked up she was around him.
She holds a finger up, motioning at the bartender for more drinks; she takes a deep breath and one step back, cracking her neck from side to side. She stretches her arms, trying to snap herself into attention, only to accidentally hit someone.
"Ha! Min!" She exclaims when she sees who it is, clearly enunciating each syllable of his name. "Come on!" She says suddenly, grabbing his hand and leading him to the floor. "Let's dance!"