✧ bar

@✏ ⋮ na hani。 Minjae scoffs almost playfully at Hani’s light-hearted jab. He personally remembers a much more even record of their debates, but tonight doesn’t feel like the time to get into /that/ whole conversation again, otherwise they’d be here for hours as he tries to win the argument.

“Are you being serious?” he asks, sitting up straighter and placing his beer bottle fully on the table. Maybe Hani was joking, or maybe it was a veiled suggestion, but Minjae is nothing if not self-serving sometimes. He'll take this and run with it if he can. “Please be serious. I was ready to get out of here ages ago.” The timer goes off again - Minjae not realizing the time had passed so quickly - but he's already halfway out of his seat. The guy next to him moves to sit and Minjae turns to smile at him, though it’s really more a baring of teeth than anything polite, and the guy shrinks back into his previous chair. “Sorry, but you’ll have to wait a second," Minjae says with faux sweetness. He maneuvers himself around the table, an almost manic energy at the prospect of finally leaving replacing his earlier downtroddenness.

He stands next to Hani’s chair and makes a motion towards the entrance, a silent question asking if she wants to follow. Her comment about a drained social battery makes him laugh a little - a rare sight indeed - and Minjae says, “We don’t want your social battery dying soon, do we? I know the best spot to recharge; /and/ it’ll have better drinks than this bar’s ty bear and shots, promise.”

@✏ ⋮ lee minjae。 Upon the reciprocation of Minjae's tease, Hani can't help but to feign nonchalance, visage portraying that of indifference as she shakes her head to continue her coy act. Though, it isn't long before rosy tiers betray her facade with its ends softly lifting up into a much more comfortable simper, even allowing somewhat of an odd sounding snicker emit from her. "Our time meant a lot to me whenever I was winning the argument," mirroring his stance, she also leans the weight of her head onto the palm of her hand, elbow propping up on the table surface. "And that was like, most of the time."

There isn't much that Hani expected to come out of tonight's endeavors. She supposes that she was simply hoping to find comfort in someone else's babbling and borderline trauma dumping (she takes pride in being a good listener), but surprisingly, her relief is found in Minjae's obvious reluctance, feeling as if her unwillingness to truly participate in this show was now valid. But this begs the question of the night — why are they still here?

"Three is a little more than what I can handle, but maybe if a photo-taking loser helped me finish, then I'd actually be inclined to treat him out to that convenience store," she shrugs as if her offer isn't legitimate, but there's a sliver of hope in her that, perhaps, Minjae would accept. "No but you're right, the shot I took earlier isn't doing it for me, and who knows how much longer this will be. My social battery needs a serious recharge."

@✏ ⋮ na hani。 Although she's known as Na Hani to most, whenever they had their little debates during a past semester's shared class Minjae referred to her as Miss Painter. Their conversations on the merits of painting versus photography were silly banter to pass the time, though Minjae can remember a few times that he may have been a bit more passionate about his craft than necessary. The two didn't see each other much - or at all, really - after that class ended, but Minjae recalls their interactions fondly. It puts a quiet smile on his lips for the first time that evening.

"I'm wounded," he places his hand over his heart, eyes glittering with amusement now instead of looking like a dead fish. "Did our time together mean nothing to you?" Minjae sits up straighter, planting one elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand.

Hani looks like she doesn't want to be here just as much as he does. He's not exactly surprised. Minjae isn't the type to pay attention to the university rumor mill, but he's caught whispers including her name in them lately. (It's hard to avoid hearing anything when you have classmates who love to talk loudly and openly about such trivialities.) As for what the rumors are about, he couldn't say he knew all the details; it didn't interest him, though if it was generating enough buzz for him to have at least heard some of it then it's no wonder she looked uncomfortable. Minjae knows half of the people here are gossip-mongers and drama lovers, which clearly doesn't help either.

He rolls the edge of his beer bottle against the tabletop absentmindedly, brow furrowing almost as if he's in pain. "That obvious, huh? Honestly, I could find something less expensive and better tasting at the convenience store." He finishes off the last dregs and points the empty bottle at Hani. "You look like you need at least three."

@✏ ⋮ lee minjae。 As a chronic people pleaser, Hani was well aware that there was no way she could leave her friend high and dry on an invitation to a speed date. But the introvert in Hani was dreading to even leave the comfort of her room, desperate to conjure up any reason to stay in — got food poisoning... too hungover... a made-up holiday? Ugh, Hani was never too good at lying, and even then, these were overused excuses to skip classes.

In deep truth, Hani was still reeling in from the major embarrassment felt from her melodramatic breakup just last friday. Even if she attempted to live it down, she undoubtedly knew it'd still be fresh in the minds of those who were in attendance. And this proves to be true, for when the speed dating commences, she's met with a tone of surprise (not to mention, quite backhanded) from nearly all of her dates, most of which comment, 'I had no idea you bounced back so quick'.

It's after a handful of meaningless conversations and deliberations about a second shot, that Hani finally settles in front of Minjae, who has barely said a word, and yet, she finds him the most interesting already.

"Sorry, you'll have to run your name by me again," she muses in jest, lips barely curling into a faint smile. "Camera face, was it?" The nickname that rolls off her tongue brings forth brief memories of their first meet, the birth of their infamous debate of 'photography vs. painting', thus resulting in light quips from both parties for the rest of their shared elective. And though some time has passed for these two, it seems as if their mutual banter hasn't left, and that is what tethers together Hani's sanity for the night. With the soft tap of her fingertip upon the table surface, she subtly gestures to his beer, and lifts a brow. "You look like you need another."

@✏ ⋮ na hani。 Minjae will never understand the appeal of bars; overpriced drinks and crowded tables, and the /noise/ levels. He can't remember why he even let himself be dragged into this, but he's certainly cursing at his past self for "agreeing" when his classmates roped him into a speed dating night.

They've commandeered two large tables against the wall and pushed them together for everyone to sit down, half of the group on either side. Minjae is nursing a lukewarm beer and barely listening to the guy across from him talking about his hobbies and how he's struggling to find a significant other and blah, blah, blah. He takes a drink. It's not really helping.

He'd like to breathe a sigh of relief when the timer goes off to end their conversation - if you could even call it that - but it only signifies a change in rotation, meaning he'll be stuck with someone else he also doesn't want to talk to.

Minjae glances at the front entrance of the bar, which has started to look more and more like an escape route to him, before turning his attention to the next sorry soul that gets to deal with him. "Oh," he says, finally speaking in more than just an uninterested mumble for the first time this evening. "It's Miss Painter."