#start:

[moreferarum]

isaac sighed , glancing around as he brushed his fingers through his hair . " you need a ride or something ? " he almost asked reluctantly before motioning to where he parked his car . isaac wasn't too sure what the answer would be but he figured he might as well ask . he may have said it like it was an inconvenience but he didn't have anything better to do that night .

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @bxhyung

IN THE LAST HOUR OF his shift, Junseo learned he was gonna have to close the club that night. The biggest exhaling of the word ‘fuck’ left his lips when he heard about the scheduling, but there was nothing he could do about it. Three of the bartenders that night were higher than balls or had other obligations and the two that were coming in next shift were deemed ‘unfit to balance the till’, or whatever that meant. Either way, Junseo wanted to crack the beer bottle and shiv the club’s manager. The guy was incompetent or had it out for Junseo —- either or didn’t sit well with the blond. 

Junseo had to keep thinking about how he would be making extra cash as long as he could keep his eyes open, his hands mixing, and his charm oozing. Fortunately for him, it was well into the night that most customers were sloshed. He was grateful for Kendrick Lamar’s latest album as every track seemed to be the perfect ambiance to the wild vibes of the night. When he could, Junseo would watch the way they all clung together, and in his own little world, he called the collective of them ‘the sardines’. 

From the dance floor to the glass offices on the second floor, Junseo spotted a middle-aged man being escorted out by a younger woman, the latter probably being the club’s owner, if memory served Junseo correctly. He had only met her once before, but he rarely, if ever, saw her at the nightclub during the nights he worked. As the two walked down the steps and toward the back door, Junseo went back to focusing his attention on the customers.

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @spexialbexngs

THEY DOCKED AT PUERTO NÁYADE sometime after dusk. Commissioner Jung requested copious amounts of tequila and lime and the finest Spanish girls to his quarters, but managed three bottles of Caribbean rum and one (only one) openly excited Western woman to “try her hand with a Yellow man”. He shrugged at the outcome, willing to take what he could get as an Asian man somewhere in Europe. All he cared about was the salt in his lungs, the alcohol in his veins, and the water beneath his boots. 

In the depth of the night, he would routinely slide out from the covers of a woman to walk the deck of his ship and tonight was no different. The wood under the weight of him creaked delicately, the cool waves beat gently against it, all of it a peaceful sound for him to hear. Crossing the main deck, he reached the side of the ship, taking hold of the damp rail as he looked toward land. 

It was there that Commissioner Jung spotted a woman, a blonde, almond-eyed lady wrapped in what liquor goggles and the dimly lit night could call tarp. He could not help but call out to her. “Hello? Who are you?”

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @sooncerely

LATELY, JUNSEO HASN’T BEEN AWAKE before one in the afternoon, but today, he wakes up at the crack of eleven to the grumbling of his stomach. He rolls in bed with a groan, balling his fist and pressing it into his abdomen. The cramping of hunger clamps his muscles until he caves and slugs out of bed. Emotionally, and mentally, Junseo isn’t ready to take on the day in the slightest. Physically, however, his appetite begs to differ. Usually, he would light a cigarette and pour himself a cup of hot tea and he would be fine. Unfortunately, he is trying to quit. 

One hand threads dark hair, the other still clutching his side; he migrates from bedroom to bathroom in slow, quiet steps. And shortly, these steps cause an echo of smaller, added footsteps as both of his dogs hit the ground running in pursuit of their owner. They, too, are eager for a meal. He mumbles his greeting and shuts the door behind him before being pummeled by excited dogs. 

While reminding himself to feed the dogs after he uses the restroom, the thought of what he wanted to eat crosses his mind. Immediately, the juicy burger and frothy shake from that 50′s diner down the street has him watering at the mouth. But he doesn’t want to go alone. His phone on the sink from four in the morning tells him that he doesn’t have to. He opens the chat and types Kyungsoo’s name and waits for it to load before typing:

hey. wanna grab lunch? :) 

After he clicks ‘send’, he trades his phone for shaving cream and a blade.

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @tzuchu

WHEN JUNSEO CAME BACK TO the studio with lunch, Tzuyu was on the floor of the studio, relaxing with her phone in hand. The two of them met up at the dance studio so that the member of TWICE could practice her numbers. Even though Junseo would say he’s far from talented in the dancing category, he tended to fair decent as a back-up or a stand-in. However, after a long morning of strenuous movement, dancers — forefront or not — needed to eat.

The moment he sets the bag down to go to grab two bottles of water from the mini fridge, Tzuyu was the first to attack it, clearly eager to eat. He laughed as he could hear the sound of plastic being ripped apart and styrofoam lids tossed away. “Be careful,” he tells her. “One of them is spicy —- it’s mine.”

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @dxsiderivm

THERE WAS SOMETHING ODDLY FAMILIAR about her when she walked on set and Junseo couldn’t figure out just what it was. Sure, she looked like someone he used to know. She looked like one of the Big Three’s main idols. It could also be because he has been getting more gigs at the entertainment company this month and he was bound to run into familiar faces. And yet, none of it quite hit it as hard. He tried not to think about it too hard, just pack up his bag and leave the set for the next shoot. But he took his time because she intrigued him. 

If there was anything that Junseo was good at, it was leisurely gathering his things in order to be around to collect information. Moving at a glacial pace so that some semblance of a trigger to his memory was something he wouldn’t mind doing. It helped that one of the lighting directors needed an extra hand in carrying a fixture over to the backdrop. He passed the woman in question as she pulled her hair to the side, exposing her shoulder blades. There it was, sitting on her spine in red and black, a piece he did a while ago. That’s why.

[antiira-blog]

STARTER FOR: @xchaen

THE ELECTRIC BUZZING BLENDS WELL with the dope beats playing in the parlour that night, a real feat given how much effort Junseo makes in creating playlists for work. He uses the afternoons he has off work to compile songs of his favorite artists so that neither he nor client will be bored in or out of the chair. 

There were only two artists in the hub at that hour and Junseo was finishing up on a regular. They were waiting on a third artist, Dean, to come in and take the next client that was scheduled for 2am. It was already nearing half-past-one, but Junseo paid no mind but to his work and to the rhyme. He hummed along to the track, his tongue stumbling along to Dumbfoundead’s rap when the bell chimes to the opening of the parlour door. 

Dean walks in as predicted and the other artist greeted him with a familiarized handshake and a smile. Junseo barely looked up, really focused on his work until he shaded in that final line. It was only then that he cleaned his client and stood up from his chair to say hello to a friend. “What’s up, man? It’s been a while.”