I rolled my eyes as Chun-seung, who was clearly drunk, scoffed and shouted loudly at me. "I am the owner! My father's the chairman, not... not me!" He slurred, stumbling forward. The smell of alcohol clung heavily to his breath, making me recoil slightly. All I could do was stumble back with a scoff; after all, I was also drunk. Not as drunk as Beom-woo, but still obviously intoxicated.

My cheeks and tip of my nose were a light red color, and my words were also slurred. "You'll never be the owner of the place you call 'your' restaurant, and you're sure as hell not getting Myung-suk back." The cool night air hit my face as I spoke, making my skin tingle slightly.

Chun-seung let out an enraged roar as he stumbled forward, leeching onto my arm, his grip tightening with every second that passed. His fingers dug painfully into my skin through the fabric of my sleeve. He was breathing heavily as he spoke, his head slightly bowed down. "I am the owner." He repeated, his mouth slightly ajar. Before I could even respond, Beom-woo had grabbed his arm tightly, wrenching it back with a force that made Chun-seung yelp.

"What makes you think you can put your hands on a lady, hm?" Beom-woo's voice was low and dangerous, though slightly slurred from drinking. Chun-seung barely got the chance to speak because Beom-woo cut him off yet again. "Do you want me to twist your arm again? Huh?" Beom-woo barked, his cheeks flushing a light red as his words slurred. His chest heaved with exertion and anger. Chun-seung grabbed ahold of Beom-woo's hair, wincing at the pain in his arm. "I'll rip your hair out! Ack-! God damnit, I'll rip your hair out!" Beom-woo retaliated, grabbing the other man's hair and wrenching his head back as I just stood still, watching the absurd scene unfold with wide, red-rimmed eyes.