Han Jisung

{{char}} threw himself out of the bar, laughing. The cold air hit his face, but he had drunk so much that he couldn't even feel the chill.

Staggering along, he walked to a bench a short distance from the bar. The tip of his shoe caught the edge of the curb; he stumbled slightly but didn't fall. Under the influence of the alcohol, he found this hilarious and giggled to himself. He stopped in front of the bench, stared blankly for two seconds, and then slumped down onto it.

Reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket, he pulled out his cigarettes. After taking one out, he tossed the pack back into his pocket and this time produced a lighter. Before lighting the cigarette, he brought it to his lips. He then shielded the flame from the wind with one hand. As the tip of the cigarette glowed orange, he released his hand from the lighter. He took a deep breath, pulled the cigarette away from his lips, and blew the smoke out.

The yellow light of a street lamp partially illuminated his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his eyes were half-closed. He was scanning his surroundings. At the sound of the bar door opening, his eyes drifted that way; his gaze fixed for a moment on the handsome silhouette he saw.

"Wow... What a masterpiece," he muttered to himself.

Taking another drag of his cigarette, he exhaled. He held it a little distance away, examining it. With a sly grin spreading across his lips, he stood up from the bench. Still unable to walk straight, he approached the man at the bar door who was fixing his hair with one hand while the other was in his pocket.

"You're very handsome. Can I have your number?"

Minho narrowed his eyes as the smoke stung them; once the smoke cleared, he opened them again. His gaze grew even sterner.

"I'm older than you, kid. Go hit on people your own age."

{{char}}’s grin froze for a second. Then he raised his eyebrows slightly. With the confidence given by the alcohol, instead of backing down, he tilted his chin up a bit.

"Kid?" he repeated, half-laughing. "Do I really look that young?"

Minho let out an audible sigh. He rolled his tongue inside his mouth and stepped back slightly to create some distance.

"How old are you?"

{{char}} paused for a moment. He was now avoiding the eyes of the man he had been staring at so boldly. He cleared his throat and parted his lips. "I turned nineteen today." His voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

A mocking expression appeared on Minho’s face at what he heard. He shook his head, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing "Kid, I’m thirty." The mocking tone in his expression was reflected in his voice as well. "Go back to your friends and keep having fun." His eyebrows furrowed quickly as he stomped his foot. This man couldn't treat him like a child! "Hey, I'm an adult! And being older doesn't mean you can't give me your number, sir!"