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[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]

chapter eight

get lucky or get lost

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At times like these, I really wish that I did have a boyfriend.

Thanks to none of my friends being free, I've decided to attend the function on my own. It was a struggle to leave home, but I'm here even if I was deliberately an hour late.

If Koushiro hadn't been a close friend of mine, I would have easily declined the invitation. However, tonight is a special night for him. I've always known him to be a profound genius, but tonight further emphasises how brilliant this guy truly is.

This party is to celebrate the launch of a medical fingerprint system that Koushiro has created. Starting from tomorrow, each hospital room in Tokyo will be installed with a bedside monitor, that will be utilised to automatically access the patient's latest medical records, pathology and imaging results. It's literally technology at your fingertips.

A lot of effort has been put in on Koushiro's part. The project has lasted for years, and to finally see it live in action is plausible.

"I'm so happy for you, Kou," I congratulate him, giving him a tight hug.

Even dressed in his suit, Koushiro looks cute. For one, he's tidily brushed his hair back. His usual wrinkled shirt, is crease free and his shoes are actually polished. This is commendable for him because he never is the type of person to spend time on his appearance. Work has always been Koushiro's priority and whenever he gets immersed in an assignment he's so focused, that I wonder if even has time to blink.

Koushiro proudly simpers back. "I couldn't have done it if it hadn't been for you encouraging me, Sor. Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me. People gave me hell about thinking up this crazy idea, but you never did."

Didn't I tell you that he's cute?

"Aw, you don't have to flatter me. I was just being a friend." I grin.

Koushiro replies, "I really mean it, Sora."

I jokingly nudge him on the shoulder. "Just pay me when you're rich."

He smirks. "Will take note."

"Izumi-san, the system is absolutely impeccable!" A woman gushes. Behind the woman, another man in a grey suit wanders towards us. "Like you said, you're right about it being prodigious. Well done!"

Koushiro shoots me an apologetic look, but I encourage him to continue talking to the couple. I smile, taking a step back to allow the other guests to converse with the host.

Upon seeing that my glass is empty, I carefully place it onto the nearest table. I hail for the caterer who is skilfully balancing two trays of champagne, but manages to pass me another glass. I raise my glass at the young man in gratitude before downing a few sips.

I'm alone again. Sighing, I retrace everybody's excuses in my head.

Takeru and Hikari had caught the flu from their daughter, rendering them implicitly helpless and bedridden. Not so surprisingly, Taichi's work trip in Fukuoka stretched out to be a week long because he had to migrate further down to Nagasaki. Mimi couldn't get out of her evening cooking class. Iori was studying for his college exam, Willis is on a date, while Daisuke and Ken have a mutual friend's bucks night.

I've intentionally left Miyako and Jyou out of the excuses because they are here. The only thing is that the couple are too preoccupied socialising with other medical practitioners, that they haven't realised that they had left me by myself. The two of them are comfortable here because they suit this medical environment, since Miyako's a nurse and Jyou's a surgeon. I, on the other hand, do not know anything medical which makes me instinctively the outcast.

All I want to do is be home in my pyjamas, eating from a tub of vanilla ice-cream and watching the latest Kimura Takuya drama. I'm a bit old fashioned like that, but damn Takuya looks good for his age and it doesn't help that I'm a sucker for romance.

I glance at my watch, frowning. I had committed to myself that I stick around for another half hour, but I don't know what else to do. I've already trialled the fingerprint system out more than once, eaten most of the finger food (after stuffing myself with half a dozen of quiches, the server has stopped offering me anything else), and I'm already up to my fourth glass of champagne.

"Finished harassing the caterer?"

I raise an eyebrow, studying the stranger. "Define harassing?"

"Forgive my intrusion, but I thought that you could use with some company asides from those many glasses you've drained."

"The caterers love me. I'm keeping them on their feet." I feign a light giggle, playing along with the shameless flirting. "Mr…"

"-Wataru. Sakamoto Wataru. I'm the CEO to Oikawa Medical. Yoroshiku," he bows, smirking. "And your name, sweetheart?"

"Takenouchi Sora." I curtsy back mockingly.

Stranger or not, there is something remotely familiar about this man. He's quite handsome. I'd describe him as tall, dark, but seemingly not so mysterious. From the corner of my eye, I've been noticing him sneak glimpses at my direction all evening. Yet, I've also seen him glancing lustfully at other women too. Therefore, his mistaken smoothness depicts nothing mysterious about him at all. In other words, he's a bit too smug for my liking. If he wants a root, he's not getting it from me.

"You work in the medical industry?"

"No," I admit. "I work in retail."

"Clothing?" His eyebrows furrow.

Great. Now he thinks I'm easy because my qualification isn't up to his high standards. He's pretty much saying that I should abandon my job and fling myself onto the next man available so that I can wed him, cook home meals and care for the children.

"Jewellery," I correct. I frown, imagining his brain ticking as he judges me.

Does he think I'm that desperate?

"That's a shame. Somebody like you shouldn't be selling jewellery, but wearing them. You're too gorgeous to do something silly like that." He folds his arms together and beams at me with his pearly whites.

I try not to cringe, flashing him a tight smile back. Something silly? Wataru's lucky that we're not outside, and not at this formal engagement, because I would have decked him already. Besides, it's kind of hard to inflict pain when I can hardly move in this dress. Anyway, I don't want to make a fool out of him, especially not on Koushiro's night.

The conversation ends up being very boring and predictable from there on. He tried to get me another drink, but I had refused. He then even had the balls to allude that we disappear into one of the empty rooms.

When he began to stroke my thigh, that was when I finally called it quits.

"I'm going to the toilet," I lie through my clenched teeth, pushing his hand off me.

Wataru gives a lazy suggestive smile, hand almost grabbing at the small of my back, "We can go together?"

Swatting him away, I seethe, "No."

I stomp onto his foot with my heel and twist in, ensuring to ram the heel in hope that the force will be enough force to impale him. Luckily, the ass is saved by his leather shoes.

He gawks at me as I storm off. "You bitch!"

I throw my shoulders back, striding forwards without looking back. However, I feel jittery and still vexed, and the liquor isn't doing me a favour either.

As I'm about to duck out the door, a voice follows me.

"Takenouchi, you sure handled that well. He looks pleasant. Why didn't you give him a chance?"

I want to kick myself.

Of all the people, it has to be Yamato Ishida who is leaning against the wall right next to the door. I don't know how long he's been there, but I know he's witnessed my encounter with Wataru from the amused expression on his face.

"Not interested in him," I grumble. "He's a sleaze. Are you a sadist? Yamato, you could have been a good friend and pulled me out of that one."

Yamato shrugs. He grabs two glasses from a server who walks past us, keeping one and handing me the other. "I've always had the impression that you don't need a knight in shining armour to rescue you."

"True," I sigh, looking into my glass of bubbling champagne. "Though, I could have used with extra help."

"Hey," Yamato says. "I thought I'd give you a chance with him. He's rich, after all. Did you see his customised cufflinks? He had his name engraved on them in kanji. Who spends their money on something senseless like that?"

"Now that's more than observing us, Yamato." I sardonically point out, "That's practically stalking."

Yamato chuckles. "So what happened? You were getting along well then you almost amputated his foot! One minute I thought you were going to leave the function together, the next I see you stabbing him with your heel! Why?"

"He's too conceited. Too into himself," I list him my reasons. "He's not bad on the eyes, but when he started talking about how I should leave my job, how traveling is a waste of money and how he's all this and all that, I couldn't wait to leave. And he even told me this lame geekish joke about HTML coding to get me to sleep with him."

Yamato's lips curve upwards in curiousity. "Is that possible? How…do I even want to know?"

I deadpan, "He proposed that we get all bracket 'b' closed bracket in one of the rooms and make my voice go all bracket 'i' closed bracket . Let's just say that minuscule interest I had for him rapidly diminished."

Yamato's openly guffawing now.

"I must have committed adultery in my past life or done something evil to endure that. I was thinking, God, what did I do to deserve this? "

"Now don't get all biblical on me," Yamato cuts in.

"Why would I? If I angled a bible at your direction, it will burn metres before it would reach you because you're shrouded head to foot in sin," I retort.

"I'd prefer shrouded in mystery, but I'll take shrouded in sin instead." He tells me and smirks. "Makes me feel like a bad boy."

"Your mother wouldn't like that."

"Ah, she already knows I'm the devil's incarnate. Never fails to remind me of how much of a sinner I am and how I should grow up already." He's joking around, but what he's saying about his mother seems cynical and real. "Too bad I was never the mother's boy."

"Takeru was?"

"Yes, the darn suck up," Yamato answers. "I have to say though, that guy was really trying to get up your skirt. The other day you were yapping on about getting laid, and here the best opportunity comes up, with him basically pleading you for sex, yet you reject. From how I see it, you could have given him a chance, Sora."

"Even I have standards," I snort.

If I was talking to another person about this vague and somewhat forbidden subject, I would be not be persevering in the conversation. However, speaking to Yamato is fine. Whereas, if it were Taichi, I knew the topic would turn into a headache. Yamato does whatever he likes and is still single and because he's the way he is, I feel like he isn't judging me.

"I may not be gay, but he was not bad looking."

"No, really," I laugh. "I think I wasn't attracted to him because, asides from the seediness, I finally realised that he kinda reminded me of a guy I used to go out with."

Yamato sniggers into his glass. "Do you have many of them, anyway?"

"What? Exes?" I question, stepping closer to the table where the caterer had placed a tray of fresh tomato bruschetta slices. I munch onto one of the pieces, and notice that Yamato's still expecting a reply from me. "Why should I tell you, Yamato? I thought this is unspoken between us since you're not telling me about your thing with that scarlet lady of yours."

"Jun?" Yamato assumes, despite him already knowing who I'm referring to. "I wouldn't really call it a thing. We're not really anything. The only real relationship I had was when I was in high school, before the band fame. It's hard to juggle a relationship when you're touring."

"You seem like you've been juggling Jun for some time."

He glares at me, but I shrug.

"I've answered my part. How about you? Have you dated much?"

"Dates, yes. But relationships, I guess I've had an average amount," I respond, thoughtfully.

"Two per year?" Yamato teases.

I give him a friendly shove. "I don't sift through the male population that easily, Ishida!"

It's a good thing Yamato's here. After the semi-traumatising encounter with Wataru, hanging out with him has lifted my mood. If he hadn't been here, I would have left the function.

I don't know why I hadn't thought that Yamato would be here. To this day I still forget that his friends are my friends and considering we have missed each other on numerous basises, it's only natural that I would have surmised that he wouldn't attend tonight. If I had known earlier, we could have gone to the event together.

"Call me out for stereotyping, but I didn't think a rockstar like yourself would be close to Koushiro," I comment.

I know Koushiro is friends with Yamato, but I hadn't thought he was that close to come to the function by himself.

"Well, he is my good friend." Yamato explains, "Taichi got close to him first at university, then he eventually had us meet up. Since Taichi's already insane, adding Koushiro to our group of guy friends was a nice touch because he's the mature one. How many times has he cared for us when we were off our faces, or made up a smart excuse to get us out from being taken in by the cops-"

"Sounds like you boys had wild nights. It's funny picturing him with you though. You would have corrupted him. I pity him for having to put up with you guys," I laugh. "It makes sense though."

"Yeah," Yamato chuckled. "On the other hand, Taichi and I are quite protective of him. One time, Taichi even threw a punch at a student for him. Koushiro had given a copy of his essay to help this student out, but he ended up plagiarising him. I was so furious when I heard, that I even went to the extent of egging that student's car."

"Real mature," I shake my head. "Though, it serves that ass right. Even though you and Taichi did the wrong thing, it was also the right thing to do. Who knows, if I had found out about that, I might have done worse."

"I believe you. I won't take you for granted after I had seen you drill your heel into that guy's foot," Yamato replies, still amused. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that Koushiro is too innocent and nice, that it's scary, yet rewarding, that he's made it this far. However, if any of these business folk take advantage of him, I might do something that is-"

"Is that why you're here?" My eyes widen.

I laugh and Yamato awkwardly glances away from me. Yamato isn't joking about being protective over Koushiro.

"Partly," Yamato agrees. "Like you, Takeru can look after himself. But Koushiro...he's a different story."

"He is a special one." I glance at Koushiro who is now taking a pretty blond to the bar. "Innocent as he seems, Yamato, it looks like Koushiro is scoring tonight. He might get married before us."

I take another piece of bruschetta, biting into it.

"You know?" Yamato says, "I always thought that you were like Koushiro. The girls made it sound out that you're the most mature one out of them."

"It might be because I'm technically the oldest?" I presume. I fold my arms, but find that I'm starting to lose my balance so I lean back against the table to support myself.

Yamato disagrees, "I think it's because you look out for them."

"Really?" I'm not sure where Yamato's coming up with this conclusion, so I question him back. "I do?"

"From what the rumours tell me...you do."

"If by yelling out at everybody to get their act together means something, then yes, perhaps I am the mature one. I take credit for that," I murmur. I don't know whether I should be offended that the girls have titled me as the mature one. Isn't being the oldest more than enough?

I continue, "Especially if you're contrasting me to Mimi, then I can say I'm definitely more mature than she is. Despite it all, I think Takeru and Hikari are different though, since they got married first. They're a different form of maturity that I don't think I will ever achieve."

"True," Yamato chuckles. "My brother was always the lucky one."

"You are too," I point out. "I mean, you became a rockstar for goodness sake!"

He sighs, taking a sip of the bubble-less champagne. "But maybe I was wrong? Sometimes I think of the what ifs, like how would it be like if I hadn't made it with the band and tried something else…"

"But you don't regret it, do you?"

"No."

I hand him my unfinished piece of bruschetta, opting to finish off my champagne. "Then don't complain."

"Yes, mother." Yamato devours the piece, before grabbing another from the food tray. He changes the subject, "Have you been trying to convince Taichi to come back?"

I catch on, "Countless of times. He's being a pain. Have you tried?"

"No success either. He's being a stubborn idiot," Yamato mutters. "Any bet Mimi selectively chose to work on a Saturday night. I give up on them."

"Oh, you know how they both are," I say. "Impossible."

He nods and I let out another sigh. The caterer walks past and I steal another glass from the tray. Instead of drinking it, I place the cold beverage against my face and savour the sensation.

Yamato studies me, amused. "What are you doing?"

"Suppressing the Asian glow." I roll the glass to my other cheek. I probably look as red as those tomato squares on Yamato's bruschetta piece.

He smirks and motions at the glass in my hand. "How many?"

I reply, remorse apparent in my voice as I'm feeling that I'm gradually getting spacey. "After my eighth, I think I may have lost count…"

"Didn't expect you to go all hardcore, Takenouchi."

"I blame you." Rolling my eyes, I mumble, "Before you arrived I had nobody else but the champagne to keep me company. Anyway, how can you say 'no' to free booze?"

"When you've clearly had enough," Yamato answers. He takes the glass that I'm almost about to spill and finishes it himself.

I pout, trying to subtly take another glass from a caterer that's passing by, but Yamato lightly swipes my hand away from the tray. I slouch, defeated. "Ishida, what else is there to do here?"

Yamato shrugs. It's then that I take in what he's wearing and I can't help but giggle.

"What?"

"And I thought I was out of place," I motion at how he's attired in his signature leather jacket and dark jeans. It almost seems like it's uniform to him. Nevertheless, he still looks sharp and striking as ever. I'm sure that if somebody dressed him in a poncho or a rainbow scarf, Yamato would still look good. "Didn't you bother to check out the dress code?"

"Not really. Suits are straining to wear, and don't get me started on matching them with ties. It feels like you're putting a noose around your neck. They're suffocating," Yamato shudders at the thought. "One of the reasons why I didn't want to become an office man. If I surrendered my lifestyle to being an ordinary office man, I wouldn't have the freedom to wear whatever I like."

I snort. "Aren't you the rebel."

Yamato's about to take another piece of bruschetta, but the caterer sniffs at us and removes the tray from our reach. "Isn't that rude?"

"I think they found our master plan out," I laugh. "That know we're only here for the goods."

"So now that the goods are gone, how about we retreat?" Yamato eyes Koushiro from across the venue. "I'm sure he won't mind. We've made an appearance and have been here long enough. He's preoccupied anyway."

"Are you suggesting we ditch this place?" The idea sounds good. It's exhausting standing around in these heels. The venue has no seats so my feet and calves are aching like hell.

"Why not?" Yamato says, "You in?"

"Definitely," I sigh. "I want to go home."

We bid our farewells to Koushiro and once we're out of the function room, I'm clutching onto the railing as I take one step at a time down the flight of stairs. It's not that I'm a terrible walker when in heels, but what's triggering my anxiousness is falling down the stairs. It doesn't help that everything around me seems to be swirling. I've been doing well, but now I can feel the liquor catching up, and boy can I feel it taking effect on me. This is mainly my own fault for not having anything adequate to eat prior to getting here and smartly not drinking moderately at all.

Without uttering a word, Yamato steadily holds onto my right arm and helps me down. When we reach the ground level, I shoot him a grateful look and he nods.

"Please don't tell me you're thinking of taking the train home."

"No, I'm not stupid," I reply. "The taxi."

"You probably should sober up first. I'm certain the taxi driver wouldn't appreciate it if you vomited inside it."

"I should be fine," I give a false smile, resting my hand onto the wall.

He sniggers. "Right..."

Yamato takes hold of my arm again. Before I can process what's going on, we're walking out of the building and he's taking me the opposite way from the taxi rank. I don't think much of it because I'm struggling to keep of composure of trying to look 'not drunk'. Soon enough, I notice that the area we're in doesn't look familiar and that's when I finally question him.

"Where are we going?"

"My place," Yamato responds. He nudges me into an apartment complex and before I want to back out of the elevator he lightly forces me inside it. "Don't worry, Takenouchi, I'm not going to murder you."

I protest, "But-"

"Probably safer if you sober up first. Thought it would be ideal for you rest it out prior to you going home by yourself. You're just in luck that I live close by to the venue."

"You don't have to…"

"It's not safe to leave a drunk girl by herself." Yamato mutters, "Anyway, our friends wouldn't have liked it if I left you by yourself in this state."

"I'm not drunk," I bristle.

He repeats the same word he has used earlier, "Right…"

"Why don't you believe me?" I push him. Yamato looks at me amused. The elevator opens and as he assists me out of it, I see a couple walk past us. They girl looks way younger than the old man. Heck, the girl doesn't even look legal. I slur out, "YOU!"

The couple turns to me in shock. Yamato's eyes widen as I keep yelling.

"I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO THE AUTHORITIES!" I scream out.

Yamato clamps a hand over my mouth and attempts to get me to keep walking. "You're making a scene."

I lick his hand, which causes him to immediately retract his hand back. Yamato gives me a disgusted look, but I ignore him and crane my neck back at the couple, stuttering, "Get away from him, you little girl!"

She replies, "Mind your own business, old lady!"

I get away from Yamato's grasp, ready to march back to the pair. As I furiously stomp over, the elevator door closes and I almost fall on my ass. It's all thanks to Yamato's arm dipping down and holding my waist just before I almost crash onto the floor.

"And you're not drunk," Yamato says.

"I'm not." I breathe out. "You're being unjust."

"You stink, Takenouchi."

I give him a lazy smile. "And you smell good, Ishida."

Yamato's chuckling. He helps me back onto my feet and ushers me down the hallway of apartments and into his own.

Slipping off my heels, I run onto the cool, wooden surface and glance into every room along the way. Each room isn't what I'm hunting for. First was Yamato's bedroom, then a music room, then a spare room and then I let out a groan.

"Takenouchi," Yamato mutters. "I could always offer you a house tour, but since you're already peeping into every room-"

I barely croak out, "Toilet."

"Here," Yamato says. He opens a door and I run past him, slamming the door behind me.

In seconds I'm keeling over the toilet bowl, spewing into it like there's no tomorrow. My eyes are watery and I feel the acidic taste in the back of my throat. The sensation makes me regurgitate again.

"You alright in there, Sora?"

"Fine!" I squeak out, dabbing my mouth with a bunch of toilet paper before tossing it inside the bowl and giving the toilet a flush.

As I wash my hands, I catch my reflection and laugh at myself. I look like a train wreck. My hair is all over the place, mascara and wine-red lipstick smudged and one of the straps has fallen off my shoulder. I readjust the strap, wipe the smeared lipstick off and I fix my hair up. At least I look slightly presentable now. The throwing up has drained me and everything is spinning.

"God, you're an idiot," I say to myself, grasping onto the basin to steady myself. I take a couple deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling until I feel a bit better. "You really messed yourself up this time."

Gathering my courage and the little dignity I had left, I come out of the bathroom and immediately see the expression on Yamato's face that makes me want to hide back inside the bathroom.

Have I actually just vomited in Yamato's apartment?

The look on his face is evident that he's not going to forget this. I swear, he's going to use this against me some time in the future, even if it's in court or-

He offers, "Water?"

"Yeah, thanks," I murmur, taking the glass of water for me. My common sense is slowly coming back, and because of this the more humiliated I feel. I pessimistically lament, "Why didn't you stop me?"

"You were unstoppable."

I frown, diving onto his couch. Playing verbal gymnastic with Yamato isn't what I want to do right now. I'm too exhausted and feeling extra gross to care about anything. I close my eyes, resting back onto a pile of cushions and begin to firmly massage my temples in an attempt to get rid of my newfound migraine.

The TV switches on and all I hear is a series of loud, aggravating gunshots. It must be some war or action movie, and it's something my not yet sober mind can tolerate at the moment.

Yamato soon crashes next to me. Despite feeling sick in the stomach, I can smell the scent of butter.

Not even bothering to open my eyes, I weakly speak up, "You have an unhealthy obsession with popcorn."

"At least it's not bears," he retorts.

I pull out one cushion behind me, opening one eye as I aim it at him. The cushion luckily hits the top of his head. If it hadn't hit Yamato's head, it would have plummeted into the bowl of popcorn and I know that Yamato would forgive me for that.

"Popcorn is always good when you're witnessing chaos."

"The movie's boring," I say, even though I don't know what it is about.

He chuckles. "You're the chaos."

I laugh with him.

"So what are we doing?" I finally open my eyes, raising my legs onto the couch for comfort measures. "Are we Netflixing and Chilling?"

"Wow, I feel honoured." Yamato remarks, sarcastically, "To think that somebody, like you, would consider me to be a worthy candidate. I meet your standards, huh?"

"Tall, blond and blue eyes?" I drawl back. "I'd say that ticks all the boxes. You'll do."

He shuffles closer to me, turning his body to face me completely. "Now you're just wanting me for my looks. Isn't that insulting?"

"A compliment on the looks is a good thing." I continue, "Especially if it's just for a one night thing."

Me and my big mouth. I try to pretend that I didn't say anything, putting an act on like nothing dumb has slipped out of my mouth, but Yamato's knees are already hitting up against my thigh.

He's inches away from my face and it's then that I realise, that Yamato's on the same boat as I am, only he surpasses me at concealing his drunken stupor. The giveaway is his breath. Asides from the champagne, he also smells like a mix of Vodka and rum. He might have even had more than me!

My heart is beating faster as I look at his lips. I wonder how they'd taste like against mine…

He's leaning in closer and whispers roughly into me, "I'm single and you're single…"

Yamato's stating the obvious. And, I'm not denying it either. The same train of thoughts is running through my mind and as much as it feels dangerous, it's invigorating. Lust is mirrored in his deep, blue eyes and I feel my body tingling as I challenge him by placing my arms around his neck.

I dare to ask, "What's stopping us then?"

Yamato is danger and things can get very sticky if we keep going at this rate and-

Damn it.

I groan, feeling him plant kisses on my neck. I push him back onto the couch, but he battles me and we soon swap positions. His body compresses over me and I'm unbuttoning his shirt when we hear somebody cough.

"Asides from Jun," Yamato groans. He gives a small grin at the newcomer. "Hey babe."

In an instant, he rolls off me and I let out a groan. I sit up, straightening my posture as I reach downwards to grab my bag. My face feels hot again and I'm beyond embarrassed with myself. I follow Yamato's gaze and study the woman.

Jun's pretty. She doesn't have the traditional beauty, but there's some aura she possesses that makes you want to take a second glance at her. Her dark hair is styled with a pixie-cut and she's in a ACDC shirt and tight, leather pants. She looks great even though her dress code is quite simple.

While I've been studying her, she has too. However, her gaze isn't livid, angry or repulsed after having witnessed Yamato and my little heated session. In fact, there's a glint of amusement in her eyes. I glimpse Yamato. He doesn't seem all that bothered by what's happened.

She gives a wry smirk, "You guys can keep going at it if you want. Perhaps I should join in?"

Did Jun just actually allude to a threesome? What. The. Hell. Yamato really knows how to pick his women-

"She's only joking, Sora," Yamato seems to have read my mind, scratching the back of his head. "You don't have to go."

"I was just leaving," I reply, frazzled. I don't know her well enough to joke around with her. And, even then, the fact that she's walked in on us in a compromising position is darn right horrifying.

With my head throbbing, I stagger out of the apartment by myself. As I wait by the elevators, I try to make sense of what's happened tonight. I retrace everything in my mind and my face scrunches up in mortification as I realise what I've done...oh hell.

I'm definitely sober now. Remind me to never drink again.


(a/n) Uh, yeah. This chapter turned out longer. To be honest, I've been quite surprised with the reviews. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for reading this (odd) story!

p.s. pied piper (if you're reading this and because i can't pm back) thanks for the review! our writing styles are different. i personally prefer your style of writing because it's fun to read and I like the depth to your characters. thanks for popping by :)