freshman party

[SCENE: A packed freshman party. Music blares through the speakers, neon lights flash, and the air is thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. Mawang stands near the corner, drink in hand, scanning the crowd with a disinterested expression. She hadn't wanted to come, but her friends insisted.]

MAWANG'S POV:

This party is loud, suffocating. I don't even know why I agreed to come. Maybe because deep down, I knew he'd be here. And as much as I want to pretend I don't care, my eyes keep searching for him.

And then I see him.

Seonghwa.

Drunk. Completely and utterly wasted, his body swaying as he moves through the crowd. People laugh and pat his back, encouraging him to drink more, but he seems lost.

Then, his hazy eyes lock onto mine.

SEONGHWA:

"Mawang..."

MAWANG:

(Alarm bells ring in my head as he stumbles toward me.) "Seonghwa, you should sit down. You're drunk."

SEONGHWA:

(Slurring) "Mawang... is it my personality? Or the way I show love? Is that what you hate?"

MAWANG'S POV:

His words hit me harder than they should. My throat tightens as I stare at him, searching his face for a trace of the Seonghwa I know. The one who always seems in control, who never lets his emotions show so openly.

But this Seonghwa is different. Raw. Vulnerable. Broken.

MAWANG:

"Seonghwa... don't do this here."

SEONGHWA:

(Laughs bitterly, running a hand through his hair) "Why not? Because there are people watching? Because you don't want to deal with me?" (His voice drops, softer but filled with something dangerously close to pain.) "Or because you don't have an answer?"

MAWANG'S POV:

I swallow hard, my grip tightening around my drink. He's looking at me like I have the power to destroy him. And maybe I do. Maybe I already have.

MAWANG:

"You're drunk. You don't mean any of this."

SEONGHWA:

"I do." (He steps closer, his breath laced with alcohol, but his eyes... they're clear, desperate.) "You said you hated me. But tell me, Mawang... is it me? Or is it the way I love you?"

MAWANG'S POV:

The room spins—not from the alcohol, but from his words. Because I don't know what hurts more: the fact that he's asking, or the fact that I don't know how to answer.

A bright morning on campus. Seonghwa sits on a bench outside the lecture hall, rubbing his temples. His head pounds from last night's drinking, and flashes of his confrontation with Mawang play in his mind like a bad dream. He groans, frustrated with himself.

SEONGHWA'S POV:

I shouldn't have drunk that much. I shouldn't have said those things to her. But I did, and now I don't know how to face her. Did she even care? Or did she just think I was being pathetic?

"Seonghwa?"

A: who do you think called him? Comment below!

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