❄ Cold Relations ❄ [SEVENTEEN] ✓

Chapter 4: Three New Units (i.e. Hoshi, the Fortune Teller)

"We're back!" S.Coups announced. "I hope you didn't miss us too much because we sure didn't miss you." He skipped the last two steps and landed with a soft clap on the concrete floor.

Mingyu looked up from the bar where he was mixing cocktails. "Oh?" he asked snidely. "When'd you leave?"

DK wrinkled his nose in distaste and said, "Very funny. You should be comedian."

"Tried it once," Mingyu shot back, "but I quit when I realized I wasn't half the fool you turned out to be!"

The insult pricked at DK like a sewing needle, and if Hoshi hadn't held him back, they would have had a fight on their hands.

"Calm down, Ladies." Jun worked his way to the center of the commotion. Mingyu had left the counter and was staring fiercely in DK's direction. "Let's not make this any more dramatic than it already is."

"Too late," Vernon quipped, and he wasn't exactly wrong.

S.Coups dropped a bundle of clothes on the floor and began tossing items to whoever was nearest to him. Minghao proudly held up a t-shirt with the number eight stamped across the front in faded black ink. Seungkwan barely avoided a set of state-of-the-art running shows tossed his way.

"Wow," Wonwoo said breathlessly. "Where'd you get all this stuff?"

"Next door's thrift store," Dino answered. He stepped to the front, flashing his bling, wearing an oversized t-shirt, baggy jeans, and a pair of dark blinds. The8 couldn't help but laugh at the maknae as he tried on his new shirt. It was a little long about the waist, but other than that, it was very comfortable.

Clothes travelled in a cycle around the room—from person to person until they found the right fit—and Vernon couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He chewed his lip, debating whether he should speak up, and eventually he had no choice.

"Coups, this isn't right. You need to take this stuff back right now. It isn't ours."

"Neither are the drinks," Seungkwan countered, "but even you had a beer when it was offered to you."

"Yeah," Vernon affirmed, "and I expect to pay for it before I leave, too, just as you all should yourselves. Just because the city's unoccupied—"

"You're wrong," S.Coups interjected. "It's not just 'unoccupied,' it's abandoned. We're the only ones left, and we can do as we please."

"That's not how it works," Vernon argued. "We still have morals—"

"Just what is morality when it comes to life and death? Think about it—the lines are blurred. 'I say we do what we have to to survive.' You should know those words well. They came out of your own mouth, after all."

"I admit, I did say that. But I'm not about to twist those words to fulfill my every desire, like you have." Sometime during their dispute, someone had taken a step closer, the other matching each stride until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"You say another word," S.Coups warned, "and I just might strike you."

Vernon held his ground. "Oh, really? Well, I don't think you have it in you."

S.Coups laughed bitterly. "You sure you wanna take that risk? The only thing that's saved you this far is the fact that we've been friends for more years than I can count."

"Then I guess you can't count very well because I've only known you for two."

"You guys are making me sick." Mingyu said, shaking his head. "Look around you. We're already choosing sides."