Autumn Festival (3)
The public outrage that had seemed ready to burn down the student council room fizzled out in no time. The council hadn't even posted any official explanation.
We just got lucky...
Who could've predicted we'd sweep the remaining three events? And by such overwhelming margins, no less. The matches were supposed to be nail-biters, so the dopamine rush from those results hit twice as hard. Naturally, the basketball ticket scandal got buried under that flood of feel-good vibes.
If they'd foreseen this far and played their cards without explaining—holding out for this gamble—that was worthy of respect. In a situation where impeachment talks were floating around, they'd thrown down a winning bet.
The community, which had been overflowing with student council hate just yesterday, was now filled with praise for the game results. Sure, the occasional anti-council post still popped up here and there, but they only had two or three comments each. A far cry from the hundreds piling up the day before.
"Everyone's got some serious stamina."
People who were that into the festival weren't hanging out in this online world anyway—they were out there in the real one. The official afterparty spot changed every year, and this time, it was our school.
It was 11 p.m. now. Still too early to call it a night, so the streets were packed.
Dudung-dudung—the bass was thumping. I cracked the window for some air, only to slam it shut again at the wall of noise.
"Wuh... water..."
A zombie-like rasp, like nails on chalkboard. I turned to see Kang Min-jun crawling across the floor, lips cracked dry. His shaky target: a water bottle in the corner. He stretched out a trembling hand and barely grabbed it... but it was empty.
"Nooo... damn it..."
His face twisted like he'd been betrayed by his closest ally. It was hilarious.
Should I just let him suffer a bit longer? I toyed with the idea for a second before grabbing a bottle from the fridge and pouring him a glass.
"Thanks." He flashed a thumbs-up in return, then flopped back down like a dead fish.
"Maybe I should've left him."
No reaction from the status window. I'd gotten my hopes up seeing how pitiful he looked, desperate for water. Guess plain hydration didn't extend life. Or maybe his desperation wasn't desperate enough.
Next time, I'll watch a little longer before helping. Kang Min-jun would flip if he heard that plan, but whatever. I scanned the room.
A 10-pyeong one-and-a-half-room bachelor pad. Plenty of space for one guy, but with four full-grown adults sprawled out claiming their territories, it felt cramped as hell.
Why come inside instead of drinking amid the festival heat outside? Simple: we'd missed the subway a few times thanks to the massive crowds and arrived way too late.
- No seats left.
- We're too late.
We'd wandered around lost, hit campus late. Streets jammed, bars full. Time to hunt for a new spot. Street drinking was an option, but even decent patches of sidewalk were taken. We'd end up in some deserted alley.
- Anyone got a nearby place?
- Wait, doesn't Jun-woo have whiskey at his?
- And he cooks great. Snacks sorted.
Just like that, my dorm became the spot. Big mistake mentioning that whiskey I'd brought from my parents' place last time with Min-jun.
- Whoa, this bean sprout stir-fry? We could sell it.
- Graduation, no job? Let's open a joint.
- Cola chaser makes it taste like juice, not booze.
Bean sprouts stir-fried with thin-sliced pork belly as our side. We demolished nearly a full 700ml bottle of 40-proof whiskey in two hours flat. Just five of us: Kang Min-jun, me, Kim Seo-yeon, Lee Soo-min, and Han Ji-soo.
"Ugh... my head..."
This hangover apocalypse was inevitable. Especially since Kim Seo-yeon, the strongest drinker in the group, had gone off the rails and was groaning hard.
Last time I'd seen her this wrecked was after finals last semester. She hadn't touched booze for over two weeks after that. Probably the same this time—dry spell incoming.
She was the one who organized our group drinks, so yeah, booze break for a while.
Time for a rest anyway.
Daily drinking was starting to show on my gut. Healthy living called—time for a sober mode.
"Ack!"
I was dodging the corpse pile for cleanup when a yelp hit, followed by a thud.
"Hng..."
Source: Kim Seo-yeon clutching her forehead with both hands, on the verge of tears. I set down my cleaning stuff and went over.
"You okay?"
"Arms... no strength..."
"Then stay put."
She shook her head at my simple fix.
"What's wrong?"
"..."
Instead of answering, she pointed. Bathroom. And she was the farthest from it, with drunk obstacles blocking the path.
"Hop on."
I turned and crouched. No strength in her arms, big height gap—trying to just support her would've ended in a trip over the bodies.
"Ah... thanks."
She hesitated, then leaned in. Slim arms around my neck. Her half-rough breaths reeked of booze.
Feeling awkward just riding silently, she murmured, " ...Heavy?"
"Yeah. Super heavy."
"Jerk... bet you're light."
"Obviously heavier than you. Look at the height difference."
"..."
Conversation died there. But her huffy breaths got louder. Couldn't see her face piggyback-style, but the arms tightened. I could picture it: death glare. Height was one of her trigger buttons, especially at her slightly below-average stature.
"Alright, down easy."
"..."
Bam. Proof: she shot me a side-eye and slammed the bathroom door. Not super loud—probably couldn't put real force into it.
Better steer clear.
I threw on some clothes quick. Not dumb enough to stick around a ticking bomb. Room was mostly tidied anyway. They'd be out cold. Grab hangover fixes like milk or ice cream from the nearby convenience store.
"Bundled up nice and warm."
Last trains looming. Festival crowds thinning, heat gone, crisp autumn night air settling in.
To shake off the booze haze, I skipped the close store for the bigger one five minutes' walk away. Tucked in a quieter corner, opposite the main drag swarm.
Grabbing hangover meds, chocolate milk, a few ice creams to head out—something jumped me from behind.
Luckily kept my footing. Looked down: slim arms wrapped around my waist.
"Heehee."
Giggle from behind. Excluding the corpses back home, only one person would pull this.
"Kim Ye-eun. Let go while I'm nice."
"Not Kim Ye-eun~?"
"As if."
I grabbed her hands around my waist and pried them off.
"Eek—help!"
"Quit it!"
Instant damsel act. Before misunderstandings brewed, I clapped a hand over her mouth.
Mmph—squirming.
"Gonna be quiet?"
Nod.
"Pwah—thought I'd suffocate. Fine for me, but bad habit. Could get you in trouble later."
"Overreacting. Anyway, wipe this off."
"Eep— not on my clothes!"
Trying to smear the gross spit from my hand-muffle on her shirt—she freaked and tried to bolt. No chance. Pinned her easy and cleaned it all off.
"Your spit anyway."
"..."
She shot me a pouty glare.
"What're you doing here anyway? Your short-form vid was at your school, right?"
"Took a cab to film, duh. Just got here."
"Busy bee."
"Gotta be. It's work."
She crossed her arms. Over 100k followers—influencer big leagues. Never asked her earnings, but rumors said she outdid average office workers. Sponsorships and ads pouring in with that audience. Her Starsta feed had promos popping up regular. Pro as hell. I let out an impressed hum without thinking.
"Hm~? Why the different vibe?"
She caught it, tilting her head with a cocky glint.
Infuriating expression. Yeah, she looked different, but no way I'd feed her ego.
"Here. Gift."
"Huh?"
"Chocolate. Leftover from festival. Heard you're bouncing around—tired, right? Sugar up."
Perfect timing—pocket stash handy. Food effects long gone after a day, but good distraction.
"...Thanks."
One chocolate, but she seemed pretty pleased.
Time to bounce. Starting to worry about the bodies inside, I said bye.
"Heading out first. Good luck."
"Hey, Lee Jun-woo! Wait!"
She grabbed my arm rough, face flushed.
