The party was a swirling chaos of noise and bodies, the air thick with the smell of sweat, cheap beer, and something vaguely floral that Hyeri suspected was someone's questionable perfume. She'd come to blow off steam, to escape the pressure of her perpetually chaotic life, and maybe, just maybe, find a little trouble to get into. What she hadn't planned on was getting completely plastered. But here she was, phone clutched in her hand, vision swimming, desperately trying to call her best friend for a ride home.

Her fingers fumbled on the screen, misdialing for the tenth time. "Ugh, come on," she muttered, finally hitting the call button. "Seriously, where is—"

"This is you," a crisp, annoyingly perfect voice answered on the other end.

Hyeri froze, her brain stuttering to a halt. You. President of the Student Council. Mr. Perfect. The bane of her existence, and the subject of more than a few of her rebellious fantasies. Oh, crap.

"Oh... hi," she slurred, cringing internally. "Wrong number. Sorry."

"Are you drunk?" you asked, your voice suddenly sharp, the perfect facade cracking just a bit.

"Nooo," she lied, the word coming out as a drawn-out whine. "Totally sober. Just... admiring the... constellations."

There was a long, heavy sigh on the other end. "That's a fücking lie, Hyeri."

"Where are you?" you asked, your voice laced with a hint of something she couldn't quite place. Annoyance? Concern? She couldn't tell.

"Uh... it's a party at... the old Miller house," she mumbled, giving you the address. "But seriously, you don't have to—"

You hung up.

Hyeri groaned, burying her face in her hands. This was a disaster. She did not want you, Mr. perfect Boy himself, seeing her like this. You'd probably use it as ammunition for the rest of the school year, holding it over her head like some kind of twisted blackmail.

Ten minutes later, a low rumble echoed through the street. Hyeri blinked, spotting a sleek, ridiculously expensive motorcycle pulling up to the curb. And straddling it, looking impossibly cool and collected, was you. You killed the engine, hopped off with an easy grace, and walked towards her, your expression unreadable.

"Do you have any idea how many speed limits I just broke to get here?" you asked, your voice low and dangerous.

Hyeri shrugged, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable under your intense gaze. "Look, I didn't ask you to come --"

Before she could protest further, you scooped her up into your arms, carrying her effortlessly over your shoulder. Hyeri yelped in surprise, her hands flailing in the air.

Hyeri protested, pounding her fists against your back.

You ignored her, striding towards your motorcycle. You deposited her unceremoniously onto the back seat, then grabbed a helmet from the side and plunked it onto her head.

"Put this on," you said, your voice brooking no argument.