nct oneshots (Bxb)

⚠️Renmin💃

A/N- oh wow I forgot that I had a Wattpad account.

Also I was reading some past oneshots and damn, my writing has really improved ever since I began this. Hopefully you guys will be able to tell when you read this.

Important info!! Italicized portions are referring to the past and Jaemin has brown hair and Renjun has black in this oneshot. Also I suggest you listen to Beabadoobee's "A Night to Remember" while reading.
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The night is young, stars just beginning to paint the once pitch black darkness, the lamp posts aiding to light up the ballroom garden orchard with a golden glow.

Renjun trails his hand against the cold marble fountain, marveling at the smooth touch of the slab as he makes his way up the ball's white steps.

The taps of his dress shoes fill the quiet garden, the heels clacking against the marble with each step.

Golden glass doors greet him when he reaches the top, and Renjun doesn't need to lift a finger for the doors to open for him. Butlers on each side pulling the large glass open for him.

The sound of an orchestra immediately files out the soundproof ballroom as the doors open, and Renjun steps inside the crowded venue.

It's warmer inside; a mass of bodies twirling against each other, the taps of heels and boots, hands intertwined, assisting with the warmth.

Renjun's careful of his trailing coat tail, adjusting his hair, and pulling his white gloves taut against his slender fingers.

A chandelier of thousands—millions of crystals hang above the dance floor, glistening into shards of elegant colors as light hits the expensive decor. The reflections of light travel onto the floor, glistening to every slight movement of the crystals. It's a sight to marvel at, but it's nothing special.

The garden doors click to a shut behind him, and Renjun politely smiles as he walks forward, making his way towards the glasses of champagne laid out neatly against a velvety red table.

Surely, no one would bother a man drinking alone.

He makes it in no time, plucking a glass off the table and bringing the glass up to his lips as he looks around the marble dance floor.

Marble— expensive, extravagant, excessive, fitting for a place like this in the middle of Paris. Filled with spoiled heirs, presumptuous stockholders, and rash ambassadors.

The ball is in full swing, the room full of crowds of rich women and men Renjun couldn't name if there was a gun held up to his head.

The orchestra is pleasant, but not Renjun's taste— this environment never has been the most comfortable for him.

Preferring the cheaper, lesser parts of Paris, well that's if he were to describe it with words his parents were to use. To Renjun, it's where the fun is, where the drinks burn his throat on the way down and the flashing lights flare into Renjun's eyes and the blastic music drums against his ears.

It's his second time in the city, and unfortunately for him, this visit is just a business venture. One that his parents forced him on.

The first visit had been 10 years ago, when he just turned 21. Finally able to drink and decided on the city of Paris. It didn't take long for Renjun to find a place. Wandering into some small club in the crack of a building, neon signs drawing him in, and ever radiating lights keeping him there.

Renjun isn't able to recall that night, not when the ball becomes silent, the orchestra coming to a stop and footsteps halting as everyone's attention falls at the entrance of the ballroom.