law of total madness | changlix

i'm not wasted, i'm in love

"Hyunjin's throwing a party tonight," Jisung says casually, not even bothering to look up from his phone at the two boys he's addressing.

Chan twists around from his spot in the driver's seat. "Hwang?"

"What other Hyunjin is there that throws parties, you dipshit?" Changbin replies, a puff of smoke curling out from his mouth. The windows are rolled down so Chan's dad won't find the car reeking of smoke, but it doesn't do much good. Besides, Changbin only smokes when he's feeling rebellious, and skipping third to go to Seoul's new underground rap club is a pretty good reason to do so.

"Fuck off, Binnie, I was just making sure," Chan snarls, but he's smiling and so is Changbin.

"Are we going?" Jisung asks, feet propped one on the back of Changbin's chair and one on the console, even though he's been told countless times not to.

"Don't we always? What's a party without us?" Changbin answers cockily, but he's not wrong. They're expected at parties; all the major ones anyways, like the ones resident rich kid and class president Hwang Hyunjin throws regularly.

Chan laughs and turns up the music and Changbin grins, taking another drag of his cigarette and listening to Jisung rap along with Kanye West in broken English.

It's late when they get back; the club was forty-five minutes out from their school and better than expected— the bouncer didn't even card them, even though Jisung's only in his second year (and looks it) and Changbin is a short as a seventh grader. The afternoon was fun, and maybe next Tuesday when Changbin has his chem lab, they'll go back out.

But now they're in Changbin's room (black walls and a shit ton of posters of rappers he looks up to) while Jisung reefs through Changbin's closet and Chan cradles a pre-party beer.

"Binnie-hyung, where did you get these jeans?" Jisung says in admiration, pulling out a pair of black skinny jeans ripped enough to expose too much thigh for his mother's liking. (They were his favourite for solely that reason).

"Not sure, somewhere in the mall?" Changbin says, tearing his gaze away from his laptop. He's been working on some of his own music lately, writing lyrics and piecing together bits of bass tones and melodies. It would be sick to be able to hear his music played in clubs like the one they went to today, but Changbin knows he has a long time before that's even a possibility.

"Wow, hyung, that really dulls it down, thanks," Jisung answers sarcastically and throws them at Changbin. "I would wear them, but they probably wouldn't fit, 'cause you're so short."

(Jisung is instead wearing an orange/yellow and white and blue plaid flannel, black long-sleeve with something philosophical written on it and black jeans, wire-rimmed glasses stylishly low on his nose.)

"Fuck off, brat," Changbin shoots back. His height is the only thing Changbin hates about himself and Jisung and Chan never fail to tease him about it.

"Are you gonna get ready or not, Binnie, we've been waiting for hours," Chan says, over dramatic as usual. He's lying on Changbin's bed eagle-spread, in blue jeans and an over-sized red crew-neck, beer half empty.

"Jesus Christ, calm down, it's not even ten o' clock yet," Changbin says, but grabs the jeans and a turtleneck and stark white sweater, "And stop fucking calling me that!"

It takes him less than a minute to change after he goes into the bathroom, and another to run his hands through his tousled black bowl cut, and brush his teeth. Upon entering his room again, he slides his feet into leather black converse, grabs his jacket and chugs the rest of Chan's beer, cringing at the taste it leaves in his mouth.