The chaotic, chest-rattling bass of the club finally bottomed out, dissolving into the gentle, ambient chime of a late-night acoustic guitar. The flashing strobe lights settled into a deep, oceanic blue, drifting slowly over the crowded dance floor.
It was the final slow song of the evening.
Around us, dozens of exhausted couples melted into each other's spaces. Many left the dance floor to the bar or simply left.
I stepped into Sora's radius, my hands settling naturally onto her waist while she looped her arms around my neck. Being this close to her—the heavy scent of her vanilla perfume mingling with the cool mist of the dry ice machine—I could literally feel her steady heartbeat and the soft warmth of her breath against my collarbone.
'She has a nice perfume.'
But the intimacy of the dark floor didn't bring me peace. Instead, my traitorous, hyper-vigilant brain instantly dragged up an unwanted memory. The exact blueprint of the flashlights and the blue fog reminded me of the terrifying night I had first stumbled into this very same venue—back when an unknown, aggressive lady had cornered me in the darkness and launched a full-scale assault on my lips.
Luckily, back then, I had possessed instincts to vault off the stage and escape her clutches.
Her hand whatever she grabbed that time, San wanted to forget it.
But this time? Standing here with my actual girlfriend? I obviously didn't need to escape. Yet, for some entirely unknown, socially exhausted reason deep within my soul, a small, cowardly part of me still kind of wanted to.
"San-ah," Sora murmured, her voice a soft whisper against the low hum of the speakers.
"Yeah?" I asked, looking down at her perfectly symmetrical face.
"How are the preparations for the Winter Festival song going?" she asked quietly. "Jun-seo mentioned on his feed that the arrangement was getting dense."
'So suddenly?' I thought. "It's called 'Run into the New Year'."
The track floating through the speakers was winding down.
The sheer, dramatic cheesiness of the title made Sora let out a quiet chuckle against my chest. She smiled, looking up at me through her lashes.
"If you guys are writing a high-energy New Year anthem about survival, why don't you just name it 'Winter Run'? It sounds much cleaner."
I paused, the phrase spinning in my head. Winter Run. It had an edge to it.
"That's... actually a spectacular title," I admitted, a genuine smile breaking through my fatigue. "I'll pitch it to the guys during tomorrow's session. We'll discuss it."
'Oh, wait tomorrow, I'll be off to Cheju with my host family."
Sora squeezed my shoulder lightly, her expression shifting to something more tentative.
"Oh, by the way... are you going to join the official school trip before the holidays? Everyone says the winter destinations are incredible. It's supposed to be so much fun!"
She paused, her eyes widening slightly as she caught herself. "Ah... of course, if you don't go, it's because you'd want to visit... oh, right. Your parents and your grandmother are all back in Ukraine. Sorry. I forgot the distance."
I let out a soft, airy laugh, the heavy guilt of the previous weeks completely fading under her sweet concern.
"All good, Sora," I said, my voice gentle. "I honestly haven't thought about the holiday itinerary yet. I've been too busy with the Top 100 benchmark, you know. My calendar is a war zone."
She smiled warmly, her thumb lightly tracing the edge of my dark jacket.
"Yeah... it's been very busy recently indeed. You're working hard."
As she spoke, the hypnotic rhythm of the slow dance caused my gaze to instinctively drift away from her shoulder. My eyes scanned the dim, blue-lit perimeter of the dance floor, searching for our double-date partners.
I caught a sudden glimpse of them near the edge of the acoustic monitors. Han Min-gyu and Yoo Chae-rin weren't dancing anymore. They were completely locked in each other's space, the arrogant freshman kingpin and the frosty Ice Queen entirely stripped of their Kirin armor.
They were kissing—a deep, un-aristocratic embrace that looked completely real under the strobes.
"Where exactly are you looking at?"
Sora's sharp, competitive voice instantly cut through my thoughts like a knife.
I snapped my head back to her, my one good eye widening as I realized I had just been caught dead-to-rights scouting another girl during a slow dance.
"Ah," I stammered, my four years of K-drama vocabulary completely failing me. "It's just... I was looking at Min-gyu..."
She didn't give me enough time to manufacture a logical, brotherly excuse.
Sora stood up on her tiptoes, her fingers tightening around the back of my neck with the absolute, unyielding precision of a center-stage performer. She leaned in, her warm lips cutting off my explanation before the first Hangul syllable could clear my throat.
She kissed me.
Myung-dae's three-point prophecy... it actually came true.
'Crap.'