Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The pulsating beat of the music vibrated through the walls of the club as multicolored lights flashed across the crowded dance floor. Dunk was in his element, surrounded by the thrum of people, the laughter, the energy, and, of course, the drinks. He had always been a party person—known for his ability to keep the night alive with his infectious energy and charm. For Dunk, the club was his escape, his playground where the world seemed brighter, and all worries faded away.
Joong, on the other hand, saw the club differently. It was a place to unwind once in a while, a rare indulgence when work and life became too overwhelming. He didn't mind the occasional drink or the loud music, but the constant chaos of it all wasn't his scene. Still, he had come that night because of Dunk.
They had met here, in this very club, just a few months ago. Dunk had been the life of the party, and Joong had been the quiet observer, drawn to him by his radiant energy. Despite their differences, they had connected in a way neither had expected. Dunk's carefree spirit balanced Joong's more grounded nature, and Joong's steady presence had given Dunk something he didn't even know he needed—a sense of stability.
But there was one thing that always lingered between them: Dunk's drinking habits.
Joong had tried to talk to him about it, gently suggesting that he might want to cut back, but Dunk would always laugh it off. "You're just too serious, Joong. You don't get how fun it is! Let me enjoy my youth," he'd say, dismissing Joong's concerns with a wave of his hand. Joong couldn't deny there was an age gap between them, and perhaps Dunk thought that made him boring or out of touch. But it wasn't about the fun—it was about Dunk's well-being.
Tonight, Joong was there again, watching Dunk from a distance as he danced and laughed with his friends. The usual worry gnawed at him as he saw Dunk down yet another shot. He knew where this night would end—Dunk, too drunk to stand, and Joong, carrying him home.
He sighed and leaned against the bar, nursing his drink, wondering if tonight would be any different.
As the night wore on, Dunk became more and more intoxicated. His movements on the dance floor grew sloppier, his laughter louder and more erratic. Joong could see the telltale signs—the glassy eyes, the unsteady steps. But Dunk was in his own world, oblivious to everything but the fleeting thrill of the night.
Joong decided it was time to intervene. He weaved through the crowd until he reached Dunk, who was leaning heavily on one of his friends, struggling to stay upright.
"Dunk, we need to go," Joong said, his voice firm but gentle.
Dunk looked at him, his expression one of confusion mixed with a stubborn refusal. "Come on, Joong, just one more round!" he slurred, reaching for another drink that a friend was offering.
Before Joong could respond, something much worse than a simple fall happened. Dunk, in his intoxicated state, tried to pull away from Joong, staggering backward. His foot caught on a loose cable, and he went crashing into a nearby table, sending drinks flying. He tried to stand up, but his legs gave out beneath him, and he tumbled down a short flight of stairs that led to a VIP area.
