fright night.
@lgcseho, party.
bae soho does not drink to excess at company functions.
truth be told she wouldn’t drink at all, out of sheer ambition adn paranoia of staining her image with the higher ups, if it didn’t make her look like a complete stick in the mud. korean drinking culture basically mandates her inclusion in some respect. and frankly, lets be honest, most company functions are only bearable if you take the edge off a bit.
she’d just as much prefer to get soju wasted with a few friends in a noraebang where she didn’t have to worry about fucking up the career of her dreams. it’s ridiculous, how careful she is lately, as if any misstep can send her rocketing into a life of obscurity and missed opportunities. but as social media swamps more and more celebrities in stupider and stupider scandals, soho gets worried. could her wings get clipped before she even has a chance to fly? she won’t chance it.
she will dress up for it, though.
so she’s got a rum and coke in her hand and a nearly almost criminally short blue skirt, the sailor-inspired top of her costume hugging against her curves. her hair is brown and lacking in ornamentation, but she’s pulled it into the required style and donned the circlet the senshi is known for, and she plucks at the ribbon on her chest. there’s a matching ribbon at the small of her back, satiny silk and a shining red. she looks good, boots a little too high and heels a little too tall, but she’ll be damned if she misses out on the chance to be sailor moon, second year in a row. maybe next year will make it three. whatever, she’s on a budget.
maybe next year she’l have debuted and paid off some debt and made a living for herself, and she can buy a new costume. it doesn’t hurt to have aspirations.
then again, maybe she’ll die before next year, because here comes seho with a look on his face like he’s going to devour her body and soul, his grin wide and wolfish despite the dapper sweetness of his features. how someone can look like the ultimate fuckboy alongside the ultimate boy next door escapes her.
it also prompts her heart to beating in double time, a pout on her lips that she disguises in a gulp from her drink, brows knitting into a furrowed expression. maybe she’ll have just two drinks this time, instead of one. she might need it.
“whatever you’re gonna say, save it.”
she’s a little sore over him ghosting her, she’ll admit it. it’s been a bit since they...enjoyed each other’s presence. it’s been a bit since the show started, too. it’s probably related. she’s still probably more than a little bit grumpy about it. “and if you say a single bad thing about my costume, i’ll sneak into your dorm and cut your balls right off.” she adds, for good measure, hissed half-playfully only for his ears.