Downstairs, the living room had been cleared of central coffee tables, creating a wide, open arena surrounded by floor cushions. Around twenty students from Class 2-A and 2-B had gathered in a large, noisy circle, paper cups and cans in hand.
I scanned the room.
'No Min-ah and Chae-rin?' I thought, surprised. 'The Database and Ice Queens are actually sleeping through an official inter-class party?'
"Where's Myung-dae...?" I muttered, looking around.
Then my eyes caught sight of him standing by the kitchen counter, and my jaw dropped.
Myung-dae was holding a massive stainless-steel mixing bowl—the kind usually reserved for preparing holiday kimchi or salads—and a heavy metal ladle. With a deadpan expression, he cracked open three cans of Cass beer, poured them into the bowl, followed by two full bottles of green Soju, and topped it off with a plastic jug of cloudy Makgeolli. He began stirring the murky, bubbling liquid with terrifying precision.
'What on earth is he creating...?' I screamed internally, staring at the chemical hazard forming before my eyes. 'That's not a drink, that's a weapon of mass destruction!'
From his own experience...bitter experience, San knew that mixing alcohol was a bad idea.
A lump threatened to break free from his throat as he remembred how his friends did absolutely the same!
'It's like mixing REVO and horilka!' Not to mention, right after they had to clear the stairwell up.
Before I could process Myung-dae's dark alchemy any further, Ha-neul stepped into the center of the ring, holding a wireless microphone that boomed through the living room speakers.
"Alright, everyone! Pay attention!" Ha-neul announced, her voice filled with authoritative party command. "Our first official tournament game of the night is Cham Cham Cham! We need six volunteers! Players will face off in pairs, and whoever falls for their opponent's hand direction must drink!"
She pointed a dramatic finger toward the kitchen island.
"And the penalty for losing a round will be a fresh serving of the special house cocktail prepared by our very own Black Cat—Myung-dae!"
Where on earth did they even source a steel mixing bowl and a soup ladle at two in the morning?!
"So!" Ha-neul called out, scanning the circle. "Who's volunteering?!"
Myung-dae casually raised his hand first, stepping forward with his dark hoodie pulled up. Two brave guys from Class 2-A raised their hands next.
Before I could even take a step backward to blend into the shadows, Park Jin-hyun materialized behind us. In one swift, chaotic movement, the silver-haired drummer grabbed my right wrist and Jun-seo's left wrist, raising both our arms high into the air!
"We have two more right here!" Jin-hyun shouted delightfully.
"Wait, Jin-hyun-ah, I didn't—" I tried to explain, but Jin-hyun gave both of us a heavy, unforgiving shove straight into the open center of the living room.
I stumbled onto the carpet beside Jun-seo, turning my head to lock eyes with Jin-hyun. I laser-focused my gaze on his smiling face, silently questioning every single life choice that had ever led to me becoming friends with Park Jin-hyun.
"We need one more!" Ha-neul announced, holding the mic up. "One more volunteer! What's wrong with you guys? Are you seriously that scared of drinking?"
Silence fell over the room. The crowd took a collective half-step back, staring at Myung-dae's bubbling steel bowl with sheer, unadulterated terror. Nobody wanted to risk their mortal soul against that toxic brew.
'Everyone wanted to survive the night alive!'
Ha-neul clicked her tongue, letting out a loud, disappointed scoff.
"Aish... you are all complete weaklings! Fine! I'll be the sixth player!"
Jun-seo and I snapped our heads toward her, our eyes widening in absolute shock.
'She's going to drink THAT?!' I panicked internally.
Across the ring, Myung-dae let out a low, sinister chuckle, ladling the murky liquid into traditional shallow bronze cups usually reserved for pure Makgeolli.
The match-ups were decided instantly: I was paired against one of the guys from Class 2-A, Myung-dae faced the second guy from 2-A, and Ha-neul lined up directly across from Jun-seo.
"Round one! Ready... go!"
"CHAM-CHAM-CHAM!"
My opponent snapped his hand to the left, but my reflexes held line—I kept my face locked straight ahead. On the second turn, I flicked my palm right, and he instinctively turned his head straight into my finger.
"WOOOOO!" the crowd roared.
My opponent let out a mournful groan as Myung-dae handed him a brim-full bronze cup. He downed it in one go, his face instantly twisting into a grimace of pure agony. Over three quick rounds, I only lost once, forcing him to drink twice while I took a single penalty shot. The concoction burned like liquid fire sliding down my throat, but my thick Ukrainian constitution managed to absorb the shock.
Myung-dae's match was a hilarious disaster—our resident bassist played with complete, lazy apathy, losing two out of three rounds and casually chugging his own toxic brew without a single flicker of emotion, though his eyes began to glaze over slightly.
Then came the main event: Ha-neul versus Jun-seo.
The room went dead silent as the two academic rivals faced off.
"CHAM-CHAM-CHAM!"
Jun-seo flicked his hand to the right on the second call, and Ha-neul's head instinctively followed his finger.
"LOSER!" the crowd cheered wildy.
Myung-dae stepped forward, handing a brimming bronze cup of the dark cocktail straight to Ha-neul. She took the metal handle, set her jaw, and was just about to tip the foul liquid back—
SWIPE.
In one lightning-fast, heroic motion, Jun-seo reached across the gap, snatched the bronze cup straight out of Ha-neul's fingers, and brought it to his own lips!
"Y-Yah! Park Jun-seo!" Ha-neul gasped, practically diving forward to physically fight him for the cup. "What are you doing?! That's my penalty!"
Jun-seo ignored her completely, tilting his head back and chugging the entire lethal concoction in five long, unbroken gulps. He set the empty bronze cup back on the tray, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and offered her a calm, albeit slightly unsteadied, nod.
"As the Student Council President... I cannot allow our class top student to compromise her health before the break," Jun-seo announced, his voice carrying a heroic, chivalrous weight.
Ha-neul stood there, her jaw practically on the floor, her face flushing bright red with a mixture of anger, shock, and sheer disbelief.
She ended up drinking absolutely nothing.
The crowd erupted into absolute, unhinged roaring, emptying their own cans of beer and cups of Soju in celebration of Jun-seo's noble sacrifice and gentelmanship.
By the time the tournament concluded, the casualty list was clear.
Jun-seo was sitting on a floor cushion near the wall, his cheeks glowing a deep, unmistakable crimson, his posture still rigidly upright despite his eyes struggling to focus on the ceiling. Myung-dae was slouched against the sofa, swaying slightly side-to-side whenever he tried to stand up.
I took one look at the two of them and immediately made a tactical retreat toward the food table in the corner.
I grabbed a paper plate and loaded it with fried chicken wings, three a slice of pepperoni pizza, and a handful of salty chips.
'I am going to follow Jun-seo and Myung-dae straight into the abyss.'
I wiped my fingers on a napkin, swallowing the food as a pleasant, warm buzzed hummed through my entire body. To be completely honest, this was the most drunk I had felt since landing in Korea four months ago. The heavy pressure of the semester was entirely gone, the cold winter wind was howling outside the wooden villa, and the energy inside the room was undeniably infectious.
"Alright, everyone!" Ha-neul's voice boomed over the mic again, her eyes sparkling with competitive fire. "Next up is the 3-Second Song Guessing Game! Get into teams of four!"
I swallowed another piece of pizza, tossed my paper plate into the bin, and wiped my hands with a wide, eager grin breaking across my face.
It was turning out to be a brilliant night.