"So, eh, Lucy," one of Minho's friends begins. All I know is that one of them is named Thomas, and by the look of their faces, I can't really tell which one that is. "Minho says you like acting? Wait, do I call you, like, Lucy, or Luciana, or what?"

"Whatever you like," I assure. "And yes, I enjoy acting."

We're sitting at the table, eating breakfast. Lillian prepared a whole five-star meal for us to eat—Dariel, Minho, his friends, and I. They look like they barely caught an hour of sleep, with their hair tousled liked that, and thick eyes.

"You got the role in Grease, right?"

"Uh-huh." My face lights up with pride. "Sandy herself."

"Cool. Who plays Danny?"

"This guy named Gally Potts," I say. "He seems pretty nice."

"Gally?" Another friend of Minho's gasps. "I thought he was dead."

"Pf, in your dreams," says another.

"Speaking of dreams— holy fu...fu...furniture," peeps the brunette, squirming in pain from whoever just kicked him below the table.

I frown, but quickly gather myself again. "So which one of you is who?"

"Who's Thomas?" Dariel adds, his voice low.

They all point at someone else. One of them even points at Minho. I decide to follow Minho's gaze. He's least likely to lie about this: it would only make the text more suspicious.

"You?" I point at the brunette.

"No," he denies, but at the same time, all his friends nod.

"Ha! It was pretty funny, though. At first I was like, 'what the hell', but once everyone started fighting... oh my." I snicker. "Okay, and who are the others?"

"I'm Newt."

"I'm Alby."

"I'm Frypan."

"I'm Minho."

"I'm aware," I chuckle again.

The boys exchange glances before digging back into their food. Despite their obvious exhaustion, they eat like wild animals, shoveling food into their mouths. Minho, seated beside me, seems determined to ignore everyone, keeping his head down as he stabs at his eggs with unnecessary aggression. His hair is still a mess, sticking up in random places, and his hoodie looks like he grabbed it off the floor before stumbling downstairs.

I nudge him with my elbow. "You good, or are you still recovering from the trauma of last night?"

He shoots me a glare, cheeks slightly pink. "I'm fine."

Newt snorts. "He cried himself to sleep."

"I did not!" Minho snaps, which only makes the rest of them break into laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," Frypan says. "You definitely weren't lying there like, 'Oh no, Luciana thinks I'm a horny creep, my life is over!'"

"And then he somewhat choked me!" Thomas adds.

Minho throws a piece of toast at him. "Shut up."

I can't help but laugh. "Well, for the record, I don't think you're a horny creep. I just think you have really dumb friends."

"Hey, I take offense to that," Thomas complains loudly.

"You should," Dariel mutters under his breath.

"Whatever, man," Thomas grumbles. "Anyway, we should all go see Grease when it's out."

"Yeah, I'd be down for that," Newt agrees. "Haven't been to a musical in ages."

"Same," Frypan chimes in. "Do we get free tickets, or do we actually have to pay?"

I smile. "Depends. If you guys don't completely ruin Minho's life again, maybe I'll consider it."

Alby grins. "So you're saying there's a chance?"

"Maybe."

Newt grins. "So, Lucy—can I call you Lucy?"

"Sure," I say, taking a sip of my juice.

"You ever, uh, date a guy in theatre before?"

Minho chokes on his food.

I blink at Newt. "Uh. No?"

Thomas immediately jumps in. "What about guys who aren't in theatre?"

Minho recovers from his choking fit just in time to shoot them both a death glare. "What the hell is wrong with you guys?"

Frypan shrugs innocently. "We're just asking questions, man. It's called getting to know her."

"Minho's single, you know," Thomas says, as if I don't already know that.

"And honestly, he's got a lot of great qualities," Alby adds, smirking as he leans back in his chair. "Athletic. Funny. Some would even say charming—"

Minho groans. "Shut up."

Newt nods seriously. "Great smile, too."

Thomas claps his hands together. "And those dimples? Man, if I weren't me—"

Minho throws his fork at him. "I swear to God—"

I burst into laughter, covering my mouth with my hand as I watch him get progressively more flustered.

Dariel, however, looks entirely unimpressed."You do realize she's my girlfriend, right?"

The table goes silent for two seconds.

Then Thomas shrugs. "Yeah, and?"

Dariel narrows his eyes. "And you're trying to hook her up with my brother."

Newt waves a hand dismissively. "Not hook her up. Just... letting her know her options."

It's funny to watch Dariel realize he's not able to intimidate everyone.

Alby leans toward me. "Lucy, be honest—if Minho auditioned, would he get a part?"

Minho looks at me, wide-eyed, shaking his head like a silent please don't.

I tilt my head, pretending to consider it. "Well, if he has the right voice."

"He has the dimples," Thomas points out.

"Excellent dimples," Frypan agrees.

"Strong jawline," Newt adds.

"Amazing arms," Alby throws in.

At that, the entire table pauses.

Minho lifts his head slowly. "Dude."

Alby shrugs. "I said what I said."

"You checking out Minho, man?"

"Shut up, I was hyping him up!"

"Damn, Alby, if you wanted Minho, you should've just said so. We wouldn't have wasted all this effort trying to hook him up with Lucy."

Dariel slams his fist on the table, making everyone jump. "Enough." His sharp gaze sweeps over the group. "You," he says, pointing at Thomas, "stop talking."

Thomas opens his mouth.

Dariel glares harder.

Thomas closes his mouth.

Dariel turns to Newt. "You—stop encouraging them."

Newt raises his hands in surrender.

Then Dariel glares at Alby. "You—stop thirsting after my brother."

Alby coughs. "Noted."

"And you," Dariel says, finally rounding on me.

"What did I do?"

He narrows his eyes. "You are enjoying this too much."

I lean back with a big smile. "Obviously."

"I'm genuinely leaving," Minho decides. He gets up and vanishes into the hallway.

"Ah, now that he's gone, there's a video we have to show—"

Minho sprints back into the room and pushes Thomas off his chair with such force that the table nearly falls over. His mom shoots up front the couch, alarmed, and yells at him to stop, but Minho is too busy and attacking Thomas.

"I told you to delete that! It's not funny anymore!"

"I was just joking!" Thomas yelps. "I did delete it! You literally watched me delete it from not only my camera roll, but also the trash!"

"What kind of video?" Dariel casts a glare at Minho. "You're not engaging in anything sensual, are you?"

"What? No, ew." Minho looks disgusted enough for me to believe him. "It's just a stupid thing. Don't think about it." He pushes himself off Thomas. "This time, I'm gone for real." And he walks away again.

Our laughter dies down after a minute or two.

"Hey, don't tease him too much," I warn slowly. "It's funny until it reaches a certain point. He clearly didn't like the video thing."

They nod. None of them say a word for a while. Surprisingly enough, it's Dariel who speaks first.

"Has he ever just frozen around you guys? Like, not moving at all? Not responding to any sort of interaction around him?"

Newt's eyebrows furrow. "No. Why? Is something going on?"

I look at Dariel. It's comforting to see him show some kind of worry towards Minho after all.

"I don't know. He just acted like that a few days ago. Thought you would maybe know more about it."

"Nope, sorry," Frypan says. "But we'll make sure to take extra care if it does happen."

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

A/n: I hope you guys don't mind that the chapters are quite short and focus on one thing only. If you do, let me know and I'll make sure they contain more various scenes instead of just, for example, this breakfast scene that lowkey doesn't add to the plot, lol.

Have a good day/night!!
x Vera