sim.jaeyun → macarons & motorcycles

7

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I knocked on the door, expecting either, nobody to answer, or Heeseung to open the door.

Fortunately, the door did actually open, which was always better for me. But another thing was, that it actually wasn't Heeseung who opened the door.

But coincidentally, Jake showed himself up at the front. His face was clear to tell me that he had just woken up, eyes still adjusting to the light and his lips puffy, hair in a mess.

"Your brother likes to annoy you, huh?" Jake gave a smirk as he let me in, I just gave a light sigh.

"Nothing new." I told him, heading towards the kitchen where I heard a good few voices.

The entire place was pretty much a mess, red party cups everywhere, random stuff all over the floor, paintings off the wall. Jesus, the party could have not been this good.

I threw the packets of hangover remedies at Heeseung as I walked into the kitchen. He was sat on a chair, eyes closed and purely deeping life and what not.

He immediately opened his eyes as I threw them at him.

"Ji-eeeuuuun, you're the best sister ever." He seemed so happy over these small packets it almost made me forgive him for this time.

He shared them between his friends.

"I'm on the verge of blocking your number, count your days." I scoffed, about to head out of the kitchen until Heeseung spoke.

"Can we come over to yours for the soup?" Heeseung inquired, and I clenched my jaw, blinking rapidly at him in confusion.

Okay, hold on, why the hell did he say 'we' and not just 'I'? Am I making this shit for all of his friends or what?

"Heeseung am I even your sister anymore??" I was astonished at his audacity, his friends seemed to find this all amusing.

Jake was leant on the wall, somewhat behind me, the hangover drink packet in his mouth, I could genuinely feel his intimidating ass aura behind me.

"Last thing, I promise." He chuckled as I rolled my eyes, I guess it wouldn't hurt to make more than three portions.

"Fine, I'll call you when it's ready." I gave in, and he gave me a smile.

"Are the girls up yet?" One of his friends swiftly switched the topic, the room went silent for a moment.

"No clue, I don't even know which room they slept in." Heeseung scoffed, jesus, sometimes I can't even believe I grew up with this guy.

Just as I was about to leave the kitchen, four girls walked in, one of which I actually recognised. She seemed to recognise me too, her eyebrows furrowed.

It was the girl who tried to take the macarons without paying at the bakery, she glared at me, her lips fixed into a thin line.

"Oh, speaking of which." Another one of Heeseung's friends said, three of the girls grabbed a glass of water, sitting down either on a chair or on the kitchen counter.

The thief one though, she stood by Jake, talking to him with the occasional glare at me.

Damn girl, I just had to do my job, it's not my fault you tried to leave without paying.

I felt completely out of place here, so, took it as my sign to leave and start with the soup. As I was about to leave, Heeseung yelled.

"CALL ME JI-EUN!!!" Heeseung shouted, I just rolled my eyes, making my way back to my house with no further comment.

This guy really needed to do something with his life, cause no way will I be his personal little servant. Not in hell.

Regardless, being the nice sister I am, I began making the hangover soup. It was a relatively easy recipe and also quick to make lots of, so truthfully, I couldn't complain much.

I poured the soup into seven bowls, jesus, his friends better have lifetime respect for me now, because I don't usually do this for random people.

Whatever though, I dialed for Heeseung, and he didn't spare a single second, just said 'coming', and what do you know, a minute later, several knocks were heard on my door.

I opened the door, the seven of them all pushed inside, talking loudly and whatnot as they made their way into the kitchen, following behind Heeseung.

I wasn't going to bother even going in there, so instead, I took a safe option, heading upstairs and heading into the bathroom to do my skincare.

I could hear the laughs and the talking of them all downstairs, as well as the clinking of the utensils against the bowl. I guess it brought me a little comfort that my brother was happy and enjoying his life like this - but I still couldn't help but hope he'd change his ways someday.

Mid skincare, the door to the bathroom swung open, my eyes widened, about to rub the cream on my face into my skin, but at the sight of the person stood at the door, my hands sort of just, stopped.