Falling for Mark Tuan | (Sequel) | Markson

Chapter 8 | Drunk

Alcohol/Mature conversations/Mentions of drugs/ College party
~
The party wasn't what I was expecting.

Then again, I don't have much experience with them... but that's irrelevant.

The music was loud (as all parties are) and the front of the house was reasonably quiet. Until, ofcourse, you got inside and hundreds of sweaty bodies were dancing (well, what looked like dancing), drinking and laughing because they were either intoxicated or flirting... maybe even a little bit of both.

Jackson should feel right at home.

"I haven't been to a party in so long," Jackson reminisced, smiling slightly at the scene "I've forgotten how hot it gets."
"What sort of hot?" I attempted at flirting, but he must have seen it as a joke and laughed.
"Honestly? Both."
"I thought so," I replied, slightly embarrassed but also relieved I didn't make a complete fool of myself.
"Do you want a drink?" Jackson asked as we walked through the house, into the backyard where the real party was...

I thought the inside was bad.

There was more noise, more bodies, and definitely more drinks.

I saw who I thought was Minho in the crowd, considering he had girls drooling all over him. He was walking around, doing what a host usually does, greets everyone and then goes to drink.

"No thanks, not yet. I don't want to get too tipsy an hour into the party," I replied as we made our way over to the drinks

It had a lot more variety than any highschool party I've been to.

Yeah, all three of them.

Even movies don't show this much alcohol.

This is insane.

"Fair enough, I better take it easy, considering I haven't drunk in so long."
"How long has it been?"
"Since I came over to America."
"That's a long time for you."
"I'm actually not that into drinking now, I guess I've grown up a bit."
"Who are you and what have you done to Jackson Wang?"
"I'm Mark Tuan and I'm a grown up who hates drinking. I left Jackson in the dust. I'm Mark now," he joked.

Was it suppose to hurt?
Because it did.
The fact he remembers I hate drinking. And I left him in the dust.

It just hurt.
More than it should have.

"Very funny, 'Mark'. But I'm Linda and I demand you bring the Jackson I know back," I retorted, watching him pick up an alcoholic beverage that I cannot name.
"You don't know a Jackson."
"You're right, I don't," I played along, walking away from the drinks and towards the fence, away from everyone else.
"You don't know me, Mark Tuan."
"Try me, Jackson Wang."
"I will, Mark Tuan."
"Good, Jackson Wang."
"I am good."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Gladly," he responded, and in a second his lips were inches away from mine. I could smell his apple shampoo and the scent of his shaving cream he had used not so long ago.

My instinct told me to kiss him, but I didn't.

Why?

I'll never know. Instead, I just sat there, staring into his beautiful dark orbs.

"That did the trick," He smirked, leaning away and sitting up straight.
"I only shut up because I didn't want to breathe in the same air as you," I defended as my blood rushed to my cheeks.
"Sure."
"Whatever," I scoffed, scanning the atmosphere around me for familiar faces.

There's one.

No, make that two.

Oh wait, that's five now. Now just another- yep, there they are.