▲The Pulse

@Kai Honestly, Kyungsoo loved his job as a bartender. Maybe it was because he could meet so many new people and make new friends. He was a very social person and loved to talk, except for the times when he became recluse and shy. The pay at The Pulse was pretty good, too, which helped make the rent and utility bills on his nice but modest apartment. He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel, singing along with the song playing on his radio. Drives to work were calm and lonely, to say the least. He hated being by himself, hence the reason he always had his friend Daehyun over or was out with someone else. When he was alone, his memories bore down on him and started choking the little sanity he had left out of him. It was another reason why he worked at The Pulse. There, he was never alone. It was always loud and exciting, which is what he needed. He himself didn't drink, but was glad to provide the sad soul or two with a beverage to drink their pains away. If it was the least he could do, he would do it. Some people didn't take well to talking about their problems; he'd learned that early on.

He pulled into the club parking lot, smiling while looking up at the large building that made him happy. Whereas it made most other workers highly unhappy to go into work, it made Kyungsoo excited and hyper. He would much rather be at work, meeting new people everyday, then at home, curled into a ball in the middle of his bed. He shook the thoughts away, frowning slightly. "I'm not going to let anything ruin tonight," he grumbled. He reached over to the passenger seat and retrieved his bag, slinging the strap over his head. He cut the car off and pulled the keys out, getting out of the car and locking the doors. He looked at the long line in front of the building, smiling sympathetically at all the angry-looking people. The Pulse was extremely popular, hence the long lines every night. He was buzzing with excitement.

As he was weaving around the cars to get to the back of the building to enter through the back door, red and blue lights lit up the entire parking lot. His face blanched a pale white, his eyes widening as his heart rate sped up. Cops? Here? Now? But why? He whimpered softly in his throat, his steps quickening as he tried to hurry to the back door. He stopped in his tracks, finding the back way block by a police car. He whined pathetically in his throat, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. If he didn't get inside soon, he was going to have a full-on panic attack in the middle of the parking lot, which hundreds of strangers surrounding him. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his erratic heart rate before he calmly but shakily made his way to the front of the building, pasting on a smile for some of the customers who knew him. He waved at a few, his eyes locked on the officers that were asking some of the customers questions. He successfully maneuvered around them, only to have his elbow grabbed. He spun around, his eyes widening as a stern-looking officer stared down at him. He cleared his throat, clutching at his chest and smiling worriedly. "H-hello, officer, is there anything I can help you with? It's my shift in the club tonight and I really need to get to work." The cop frowned before letting him go, nodding towards the entrance. Kyungsoo bobbed his head quickly, turning around and running straight into a dark-haired male that was cutting through the line.

[Sorry it's so late. T^T ]

@Kai [You should have this reply by tonight. ^^ ]

@Jackson His lips turned into a light scowl, unable to form a deep look of the pure irritation he felt from the man next to him because he was too used to smiling cheerily at almost everyone who came in contact with him. “Shut up, jackass,” he mumbled, picking up the drink that the bartender sat in front of him. His sweet smile returned to his lips when the flirtatious bartender winked at him and told him that the drink was ‘on the house’. Mark was used to that phrase when he went to bars or night clubs, always looking good enough for the bartender to think they could fill him with free alcohol enough to take advantage of him. Mark wasn’t in the mood to be seduced by such a stranger though, and he’d come looking for someone familiar to have fun with. Taking a glance at Jackson, Mark couldn’t help but notice the muscles filling out the sleeves of his shirt and the abs pressing to the front of his shirt.

Hastily, he looked away, not wanting to be tempted into even thinking about doing such a thing with Jackson Wang. There was no way in hell. Mark wasn’t even completely sure why they didn’t like each other. Vague memories of being the only foreign guys in a bank during Mark’s second month in Seoul, of he and Jackson bumping into each other, of being annoyed by just the sound of the other’s voice, and of, unfortunately, seeing the man more often than he wanted. Wasn’t Seoul supposed to be a big city? How could he keep running into someone he couldn’t stand? He took the straw in his drink and moved it around the glass a bit before taking a sip. The sip turned into a one-shot, much to the amusement of the bartender, who placed another glass in front of Mark quickly. He sighed softly and tilted his head a bit at the new glass. “Thanks,” he told the bartender to get the man to move away from him.

When he did, going back to his work, Mark pushed the glass in Jackson’s direction. “Here, it’s on the house,” Mark said, mimicking the bartender playfully. He stood from his stool and looked around curiously for someone to dance with. There were girls and guys alike looking back at him, hoping he’d become available for a dance. He rolled his eyes and pulled on Jackson’s arm gently, wrapping his fingers around a muscular arm. “Hey, come with me upstairs.” He’d said it instead of asking, knowing that Jackson didn’t have a real like for the people around them either, having picked up on the other’s habits over the years of trying to avoid him. Yet Mark now wanted the other by his side so he could avoid all the other single people in the place.

@Do Kyungsoo There was something just nice about nightclubs, The Pulse to be exact. Maybe it was that he could drink away his loneliness, or maybe it was the expensive but somewhat cheap people that walked in that he could pick pocket off anytime, in the simplest ways of course. He hated going through trouble for nothing. His heart was moving with the beat, he was only outside and he could already feel the music shaking his body send the ground beneath him, the cheering and laughter of women and men adding onto the pressure he felt in his head, growing like a disease. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes casting over the crowd. Despite it's crowd-ness, Jongin was also the type to adapt to large areas and groups of people stuffed into one line, while the inside was packed with more. Jongin didn't want to drink, he didn't want to dance, he wanted money; He wanted the thrill of watching someone reach into their pocket to realize their wallet was gone, and then look around, only to curse because now they couldn't buy a drink for the girl they've been eyeing across the way for the entire night. Jongin was a trickster, he wasn't a fool, but he could also be considered an insolent child.

What was other's pain was Jongin's gain. But sometimes their gain caused pain for Jongin, such as standing in a long line, sighing and waiting patiently for the line to move, so Jongin could get this night over with, and go home to a crappy apartment with much suspicious decorations which costs more than the his actual rent, and his every month bills. But he remained somewhat patient, watching the line painfully slow move up and then stop only a few inches north, only to Jongin's disappointment, that it wouldn't be too soon before they had the maximum amount of people allowed inside, and poor Jongin was stick half way in the middle to the end. It didn't seem like he'd get in. However, Jongin knew exactly how to get in anyway. He'd cheated in before, but he didn't feel motivated enough to try. He wanted to go the easy way instead.

And that's when things began to grow strange. The flashing of red and blue lights streamed through the crowd of people. People came confused, worried, as the cops in the car took their turns stepping out with their flashlights in the night as they moved towards the crowd, and one, or group, individually began to ask questions, and as they grew closer to Jongin, he inched back slowly, almost suspiciously with 'busted' written all over his forehead. He'd rather go to the end and not get caught than get in a few years after getting arrested. He moved towards the back, sneaking his way past innocent people as he moved to the front, avoiding the officers as much as he could. He could hear angry curses when some people noticed his cutting, but at the moment he didn't care about rules, he needed to get in. The police glanced around for any more people, continuing to ask questions. Jongin noticed as he glanced around and smirked, that he wasn't actually the only person nervous. It made it semi easier for Jongin to relax and come up with a lie. He honestly didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't give away that he too were guilty in a way, but he knew some coos were idiots anyway. He could easily get past them, however, it didn't make him too comfortable either. Would it work better if he pretended to care about what happened? He didn't though, but he hoped they wouldn't see through his little act. No one did, usually, so he didn't doubt his goal at all. But for now he stayed back, watching the other adults around him chatter on in wonder.

@Mark Unfiltered chatter clung to the air, all of which nearly drowned out the sound of the music that had caused the floor to slightly vibrate with its pulsating bass. In truth, Jackson ignored it all-- everything that happened around him. Nothing was ever interesting enough to keep his full attention, and no story was ever funny enough to even force feigned laughter to fall from his often pressed lips. However, this did not mean that he did not manage to charm a man out of here whenever he was looking to just to keep his bed warm for a few hours-- on the contrary; it was his standoffish attitude that usually caused them to feel special when he spoke to them in a kind tone. Though it wasn’t real, his words were always an exaggeration and they quickly learned that at the end of their sessions with him, for no man had ever kept his attention long enough for him to desire a second night with them.

As the next rush of people were allowed into the club, a heavy sigh of annoyance fell from Jackson's slightly parted tiers before he approached the bar, knowing he would need to get obliterated in order to tolerate charming half of the atrocities in here. In truth, each person was always a blur to him, just another distorted face in the crowd; as if Salvador Dali’s work had spilled into reality-- causing each face to be a melted mess in front of the male. It wasn’t until the end of the night, when the heavier crowds began to disappear, that Jackson even attempted to make sense of the messes before him; trying to pick one to take home that wouldn’t be such a ing disappointment when the lights came up. He was often lucky in that regard, for none of the men he bedded were ever two’s or three’s, but none of them had been a ten either.

Once he felt the presence of another beside him at the bar and heard them speak, he lifted his gaze to meet the other persons, his words catching in his throat before he could speak them. This man he always saw clearly, never as a mess-- not a distorted replacement, but an actual person. What irritated him the most, is that one of the few people he saw so clearly, was also one of the few that absolutely got under his skin. He made Jackson cringe whenever he opened his mouth and yet he never did anything to remove himself from a situation where he had to deal with the other male. Clearing his throat, Jackson gave a signature smirk before he canted his head to the side. "Awh, it's good to see you too, Mark. Still as charming as ever, I see."

@Jackson Dressed to impress, as he always was, Mark looked at himself in his bathroom mirror for several long minutes. Snapback or no snapback, he thought to himself, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth impatiently. When he wore his adored hats, girls came up to him, thinking he would even be interested in one of them when he clearly wasn't. When he didn't, many flirtious and touchy guys tried some inappropriate stuff with him. Huffing irritably, he slipped the snapback backwards onto his messy head of reddish-brown hair. He had called a driver to pick him up and take him home since he didn't know how ed up he'd be by the time he left the club, which could be the very wee hours of the morning.

Mark laid back in the backseat, his back soar from teaching numerous children, teenagers, and adults how to high kick and flip during his classes. He should have stayed home and gotten some rest, but he hadn't been to the club in a while, and he wanted to see what he'd been missing. Mark wasn't big on attending clubs and parties, but when he did, he usually had a good time. The driver announced their presence at the night club only moments later, and Mark stretched his limbs, hearing several bones crack in or out of place. It felt oddly good to his body as he slipped out of the taxi and handed the money to the driver. Looking at the long line, he scoffed and went up the bouncer, merely telling him his name. The bouncer grinned, recognizing him for the other times he'd been there, and let him inside, much to the displeasure of those waiting in line.

Stepping into the club, the blaring music hit his ears and the sweaty, drunken atmosphere of the club made him grin in satisfaction. He danced his way through grinding bodies, trying to get to the bar. When he finally made it, he took the only available seat and ordered himself a scotch and coke, wanting something strong first to rid him of his soreness so he could dance. He turned his head to the person next to him, ready to greet him in a friendly way. However, Mark's smile faded almost in an instant when he saw who it was. His eyes rolling up to the ceiling then back to look at Jackson, he exhaled in disgust. "Oh, you."