+ PLAGUE

So maybe Joonyoung didn’t belong here – more specifically, wasn’t invited here (because he most certainly did belong here, bar stools and bar tables were a home away from a non-existent home for him). Even if he has money saved from jobs, Joonyoung doesn’t have nearly enough to spare for the entrance fee the faction requests. But really, would he even pay the entrance fee if he could afford it? No. Joonyoung much prefers a free and rather nondescript form of entry. Well, nondescript for him.

Pressing a girl he met seconds ago against a wall near the entrance, Joonyoung bites hickies into her neck; grinning to himself as she squirms beneath him. It’s easy to manoeuvre her from their place against the wall, coaxing kisses into the club that out of the two of them, only she has access to. That was almost an hour ago, and now Joonyoung sits, waiting in between shots for either something (or someone) interesting to approach, or his eventual (and forceful) exit from the club.