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Koko is dragging me out tonight to a club. I'm not much of a partier, though I don't mind drinking every once in a while. But since I'm in Korea I thought I'd check it out, see how different or similar it is to back home.

Or maybe I was just looking for another diversion from thoughts about my mother.

She told me it is a "low-key" place, whatever that means. Basically, she said I could just wear normal clothes, nice, but not too nice. Unfortunately for me, I didn't have much choice anyway. Koko had been keeping me really busy lately, so much so that I haven't seen Taeyoung in almost two weeks. I'm thankful though, it doesn't allow me time to think too much to myself. But this also meant that I forgot to do laundry last week.

"Shit," I mutter to myself.

I hold up the last clean pair of jeans I have. At least they are fashionable jeans, with huge cutouts on the shins and thighs. I hadn't been confident enough to wear them yet—they were almost too chic for me. While many Korean girls do dress fashionably around the city, I have been sticking to my North American habit of simple shorts and a t-shirt most days.

Well, today's the day then.

I'm looking for a shirt to pair it with, but can't find any clean shirt that actually matches. In fact, I can't find any clean shirts in general. I consider digging into my basket of dirty clothes when a piece of black fabric in the corner of my closet catches my eye. I pick it up.

Is this... Taeyoung's?

I had forgotten to return the shirt he lent me over a month ago. I washed it and then never got around to giving it back.

I shouldn't.

But I don't want to wear something gross.

But I shouldn't.

Screw it, he's not going to ever know.

I take the shirt, made of very soft, nice fabric, and throw it over my head. It's very long, oversized, but when I tuck it into the front of my jeans it actually looks... trendy? I grab a white baseball cap, straighten my wavy dark brown hair as much as I can, and put some real effort into my eye makeup. I actually look good. Kind of like one of those Korean female rappers I see advertisements of. Pretty, but also kinda deadly—or at least that's what I think

This will be interesting.

I meet up with Koko and she immediately hands me a bottle of soju.

"W-what?" I know you can drink on the streets in Korea but it just feels so wrong to me.

"Trust me. It's better to get drunk off of convenience store soju before the club. Much cheaper." She takes a smooth gulp of her own bottle and raises her eyebrows at me.

My face contorts after the first taste. It's so bitter and clean tasting—as if I just drank rubbing alcohol for cleaning wounds. It takes half the bottle before the harsh taste finally subsides.

We take the walk to the club while drinking the soju and I feel less guilty once I notice almost everyone else doing the same.

Once again, people are everywhere and my loss of coordination makes it harder to walk straight. Luckily I wore a new pair of white platform sneakers instead of heels. They look trendy, but they are comfortable. I love comfort. Despite it, I end up grabbing onto Koko's arm to help me keep balance.

***

As soon as we arrive I feel my body start to sweat from nerves. This particular street in Hongdae is all lined with clubs—mostly blasting hip-hop music. Intoxicated young people can be seen absolutely everywhere. It's like people are nocturnal in this country.

"Uh Koko, I don't know anymore. I'm kinda tired." I stare at the flashing lights by the entrance of the club we're waiting in line for in fear.

The security waits expectantly for my ARC, the foreign ID I had to acquire to go to school here. I grow even more nervous as he inspects it. We then pay to enter and our hands are stamped. Koko grabs my arm. "Come on, you'll be fine." And with that, I'm pulled inside.

It's absolutely crowded with people. The music is of the hip-hop, r&b variety, which I appreciate. The people are all dressed cool like they belong in a Jay Park music video.

Okay Summer, you can do this. Just drink some more first and you'll be fine.

So that's what we do. Koko leads me straight to the bar without problem. She's clearly been here many times. She orders something and we're handed two shots of something—I can't even hear what she says from beside me. After a while, I can feel this shot begin to take hold, starting with my body growing a bit numb. Eventually, every sentence I speak to Koko ends in giggles, and then my tongue is numb.

Now I'm dancing like an idiot with Koko. And quite admittedly, I'm having fun. Who would have thought?

Yes, there are a lot of creeps, and a lot of guys in general clearly only here to hit on girls, but Koko deals with them quite efficiently. She knows I'm not looking for any male interference. As soon as I feel hands on my waist she'll pull me away. She'll literally push against guys, holding out her arms around me like a shield if it gets particularly rough.

However, it doesn't stop guys from trying to talk to me, ask how old I am and why I'm in Korea. A few ask if I want to "play" and my intoxication makes me naive enough to think they're asking to go play video games. When one dude interprets my cocked head as a yes and starts to pull me away, Koko quickly yanks me back and punches him in the face. He seemed too embarrassed after to stick around.

But if they are cute, you can bet Koko will swoop in there and take over. She eventually collects a list of kakao IDs, girls included.

***

I'm not sure how long it's been now; another shot and a shared drink later and I can't bother with dancing anymore. Instead, I leave Koko with some cute guy to sit on an empty bar chair, eyes half closed, a stupid grin on my face as I sway back and forth to the music. Keep in mind trap music is playing, and my swaying is incredibly off tempo.

My hand reaches into the small bag that is over my shoulder to pull out my phone.

"No, no Summer. No drunk texting." I giggle, talking to myself as I unlock my phone.

My fingers find Taeyoung's name in my contacts. "You never said anything about calling!"

The phone rings against my ear. He picks up after the second ring.

"Sohee?" His voice is groggy.

"Oppa! Were you sleeping?" The words pop out in an overly happy, cute way. Oh god, what am I doing? The sober me is deep down inside, probably facepalming.

When I get drunk, I'm still very much aware of everything I'm doing, and I always remember what I did the next day. It is as if the sober me was buried deep down, desperately trying to monitor drunk me. However, it is never really strong enough to stop what drunk me wants to do. And right now, drunk me wants to talk to Taeyoung.

I giggle to myself again, eyes closing and opening very slowly.

"What did you say?" He sounds more awake now.

"Oppa!" I shout, giggly again, feeling like a bottle of bubbly is growing from within my stomach.

"Where are you?"

"I'm not saying." More giggles.

"I'm serious Sohee. Where are you."

"Ooh, Tae Oppa is scary!" His sigh is easily heard amongst the noise surrounding me. "I'm at a club," I slur.

Suddenly a song I recognize starts playing and prompts my intoxication to start singing terribly. "I know this song! Kiki do—"

"Which one."

"It's—it's... I don't know. Here."

I get up and take a blurry picture of a sign with the name on it. I text it to him.

"I'm coming. Stay where you are."

"Oh—"

He hangs up on me.

I groan in annoyance. "Rude."

My fingers find another name.

"Minjun-ah."

"Sohee-yah, are we drunk?" Minjun's voice sounds just as sexy as ever.

"Maybe," I laugh into my phone.

"Well so am I." I hear music in the background. He must be out too. Is he at the same club? "So I can't help you." He drags out the last syllable before hanging up.

I yell in annoyance, stomping my feet. Why is everyone hanging up?

After a while, a guy comes up to me, speaking Korean. If I wasn't drunk I'd probably understand him at this point—I am doing really well in class. However, in my state, I can understand nothing but "pretty." This doesn't, however, stop me from speaking Korean back, or a mix of English and Korean together. I don't know what I'm saying, but he ends up grabbing my hand, pulling me to stand up. Then he leans into me, mouth by my ear, whispering. I squeal, squeezing my head and shoulder together.

"That tickles!"

All of a sudden the guy has pulled away from me, and I see Taeyoung punch him in the jaw. Before the guy has time to react, Taeyoung grabs my wrist and drags me out of the club.

"Aww, I want to know what he said," I pout.

"No you don't," Taeyoung says in a frustrated tone. Once we're outside Taeyoung abruptly stops, spinning me around to face him. His ears are red, face glistening with sweat, and he's panting furiously. I also notice he's wearing sweatpants and a white undershirt. His pyjamas.

I giggle as I stare at his shirt.

"Are you okay?" He asks, concern basically dripping in his tone.

"Mng!" I make the noise that I've picked up since living here. A kind of utterance without opening your mouth that means yes. He just stares at me, eyes moving from one of mine to the other. He pulls me into him, hand behind my head. His chin rests on top of my hat.

"Don't do this again, okay?"

"Why?" I muffle into his shirt.

"You're too naive." He pulls me back. We look at each other for a bit, my eyes surely cloudy and heavy-lidded.

He looks at my shirt. "Is that mine?"

"응 [yes]! I missed you, so I wore your shirt. But I had to wash it so it doesn't smell as good anymore." I pout after my final words.

He gives me an astonished expression. I lean in to sniff his pyjama shirt. "Smell goo—" I'm able to mutter out before my eyelids close over my eyes. I start to fall over, but Taeyoung holds me up.

"You need to eat."

"I want to eat you!" I laugh, eyes still closed. I hear him chuckle as a crooked smile adorns his face. Summer, stop, please.

"Come on." He turns around, crouching.

"Ooh! Like a k-drama!" I had seen this on a show Koko made me watch.

I climb on clumsily. He easily stands up and begins walking forward. I lean my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I speak nonsense, sometimes not even actual words, as he carries me.

I smell chicken, my stomach grumbles against Taeyoung's back. But my eyes stay closed. I think I hear Taeyoung talk to someone.

Is he ordering food? Man, Seoul's great, they sell food everywhere, even on the street in the middle of the night!

I laugh to myself.

Then everything goes black.

...

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Love,

Sooaura