forsaken
with @antemortis
these days, it’s not an unusual idea for dooyoung to be spotted in the corner of a local bar isolating his life away. unless he’s with one of his good friends, he wouldn’t dare to be in the center of the crowd. he’s not that kind of guy anyway. bars? the very last place he’d be found. the hesitance soon faded after befriending some... not very good influences. that’s why it’s not very odd for dooyoung to enter a local bar or nightclub without much thought. he’s willing to poison himself with the most expensive liquor, melting into the lounge seats as the night remains young.
dooyoung is staying in the comfort of his own workplace tonight. after observing what seems like an endless variety of alcohol choices, he decides he can’t go wrong with a few glasses of scotch whiskey and perhaps a shot of vodka. of course, his area of work isn’t the bar, so why not try everything he can consume? there’s never a second thought before dooyoung mingles a bit with his coworker at the front bar, curious about the specials for tonight, all of that. fifteen minutes pass by and now he’s found stepping into a separate room just for lounging guests, a whiskey glass in hand.
the lights are quite dim (perhaps too dim, dooyoung’s exhausted enough to take the tiniest snooze here). all he can tell himself is “damn, why haven’t i ventured into this area more frequently?” it’s a slap to the face considering how exquisite dooyoung can be. once seated, he observes his surroundings. dim lights sparkling on the ceiling, the floor’s carpet remaining too clean, the lounging sofas crafted with the finest velvet, not to mention the music heard on a subtle level. it’s a gateway for anyone seeking a luxury, exotic surrounding with the intentions of relaxation. dooyoung still hates himself for not taking time out of his nights to drink here. he’ll definitely change that.
another ten minutes pass by before he’s halfway done with his drink. he’s been occupied with his phone, scrolling through social media like the next lonesome freak. he couldn’t be bothered though. despite that, within the next few moments, dooyoung’s attention is caught by someone. a female in a slim dress—not that he can see clearly from where he’s sitting. dooyoung sits up, leaving his whiskey at the table to grab another drink. or, that’s what he intends to do.
he now stands next to this woman at the bar front, refusing to steal a glance on purpose. “i’ll get some bacardi white rum, please.”