bottoms up // jacob & kaoru
Kaoru isn't one to frequent bars.
Not because she didn't drink - she did, and rather well - but it wasn't like her generally to get out of the house. The rare times she did, it was often to geekier, quirky places that one wouldn't normally find someone of her occupation. But it felt like a night for a drink, especially after the sudden reappearance of a name on her cell phone. It felt necessary.
After exiting the hotel where she was staying for the duration of her very short shoot, she headed down a few blocks, and crept into the nearest bar that had a quieter vibe. Seoul wasn't a complete stranger to her. The few months spent here after her 18th birthday acquainted her decently with the city, and equipped her with enough language capability to stumble around without accidentally offending someone or getting lost with absolutely no sense of where she was.
Slipping onto a bar stool in the darkened interior, she ordered a negroni sbagliato and shed the blazer she had thrown on over her teal blouse and black pleather pants. There were a number of other patrons at the bar on the Thursday night, but she wasn't the social kind anyway. However, she did glance across the bar top out of curiosity, and a vaguely familiar face caught her eye.
