j3nn13

[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

10. CHI CELLA

The sky was painted in sherbet shades of orange and pink as the massive party bus pulled up in front of the Theta Chi fraternity house. The deep bass of an early 2010s party anthem reverberated from the inside, lights already pulsing in time. A thick scent of cologne, perfume, and anticipation clung to the air. Students in glitter, mesh, fringe, and barely-there outfits clambered on board with coolers, hydration packs, and cameras slung over shoulders.

"Let's goooo!" Megan squealed as she ran up the steps of the bus, pulling Dani by the hand behind her.

Dani, rocking bedazzled cowboy boots and space buns, laughed, “This is about to be insane.”

Jake and Sunghoon were already at the front, claiming a pair of seats and popping open the first of many drinks. “First one to lose their voice buys brunch tomorrow,” Jake grinned, passing a hard seltzer to his friend.

Sunghoon smirked. “You're on. But we all know Megan’s losing hers by sundown.”

“Rude!” Megan called from a few seats down, giggling as she opened her own can.

Further back, Jungwon, Jay and Niki were debating whether to continue pregaming now or save some of their energy for the actual event.

Heeseung was one of the last to climb on, scanning the bus briefly—and then he saw her.

Ivette. Their cute moment before the chaotic bus arrived was cut short when Megan and Dani notified her about their arrival and she had to meet up with them. Still he was just as starstruck as he was 20 minutes ago when he last saw her.

She was wearing a black mesh top over a glittery gold bralette, her long dark hair styled into loose waves that shimmered when she moved. Her mini skirt made her legs look even longer. She smiled when she spotted him.

“You saving me a seat or what?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I thought you’d sit with Niki,” she teased.

He dropped into the seat beside her before she could say another word. “He can survive without me for a few hours. You, on the other hand...”

She turned her body toward him, grinning. “Me what?”

“You look like you need someone to keep you warm,” he said, gently tugging on the sleeve of her mesh top. “This barely counts as clothing.”

Ivette laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “It’s ChiChella, Heeseung. If you're not sweating and sparkling by the morning, you’re doing it wrong.”

He leaned in, lowering his voice, “So that means I get a sneak peek before everyone else does?”

“Depends,” she said, tilting her head. “You planning on sticking with me the whole night?”

Heeseung gave her a boyish smile. “Wasn’t planning on it. But now I am.”

Across the aisle, Dani nudged Megan and nodded toward them. “Look at Heeseung and Ivette. They’re in their own little world.”

Megan smirked. “Told you he was obsessed. She’s got him wrapped.”

Meanwhile, back in their seat, Ivette pulled a small glitter tube out of her mini bag. “Turn your head,” she instructed.

Heeseung obeyed without hesitation, and she dabbed a bit of gold shimmer on his cheekbones.

“There,” she said, admiring her handiwork. “You look festival ready.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what do I get in return for letting you bedazzle me?”

She gave him a coy smile. “What do you want?”

“Besides you dancing on my shoulders when Charli comes on?”

Ivette giggled, cheeks flushing.

“That can be arranged,” she said, tapping his knee. “But only if you survive the ride there without losing your voice.”

Heeseung leaned in closer, their shoulders touching, his lips near her ear. “I won’t lose my voice... unless you make me.”

Ivette turned to him, lips just barely apart. The tension was unmistakable.

Someone from the back yelled, “HEY! SHOTS! WHO’S IN?”

Jake, Jay, and Niki erupted in cheers, and Megan was already digging through a backpack for tiny plastic shot glasses.

Heeseung looked at Ivette, eyes glittering with mischief. “Want one?”

She nodded. “Only if you take it with me.”

As he stood to go grab them, Ivette watched him, smirking to herself. Heeseung returned with two shots of something pink and fruity.

“To ChiChella,” he said, handing hers over.

“To dancing on your shoulders,” she replied.

They clinked and downed them in one go.

As the bus rumbled down the highway toward the venue, music thumping, friends yelling and laughing, and glitter already coating the floor, Heeseung and Ivette leaned close again, trading inside jokes, flirty jabs, and the kind of eye contact that made time blur.

By the time the bus pulled up to the festival gates, the two of them were already lost in each other—ChiChella hadn’t even started, but their night had.

The moment they made it through security and entered the venue—a massive industrial warehouse-turned-mega-club pulsing with LED lights and sweat—the energy shifted from hype to pure mayhem.

Fog machines belched out thick clouds from the ceiling. Strobe lights pulsed like they were trying to induce seizures. The dance floor was a glitter-drenched war zone. Sorority girls were already losing their minds, frat boys were filming everything like it was a David Guetta documentary, and someone crowd-surfed before a single artist had even walked out.

A voice boomed over the speakers:

“LADIES, SLUTS, ANGELS, WHORES… MAKE SOME NOISE FOR CHARLI. MOTHERF**KING. XCX.”

The room exploded.

A laser cannon shot pink beams across the ceiling as Charli rose up from beneath the stage like a sequined goddess, flanked by two shirtless dancers in leather harnesses and rhinestone cowboy hats.

“CHI-CHELLA! ARE YOU READY TO BE WHORES TONIGHT?!”

The crowd screamed so loud the club literally shook.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The opening bassline of “Vroom Vroom” hit like a truck.

Ivette, still holding Heeseung’s hand, screamed into the abyss.

“THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” she shrieked. “IT’S VROOM VROOM FIRST!”

Heeseung had barely braced himself when she yanked him into the center of the crowd. “We’re going in!”

“INTO WHAT?!” he yelled, eyes wide.

“The pit, Heeseung. This is Charli XCX. You mosh or you die.”

And with that, Ivette disappeared into the chaos like a gremlin of glitter and rage.

Megan and Dani were already up front, hair flying, screaming lyrics like they were at church. Niki was on someone’s shoulders, waving a feather boa like a battle flag. Jake and Jay were behind the bar somehow, pouring shots for strangers while yelling, “THIS ONE’S FOR CHARLI’S SYNTHESIZER!”

Jungwon was deep in a conga line of drag queens. No one knew how it started. No one cared. Everyone was singing, everyone was screaming.

“LET’S RIDE,” Charli belted.

“LET’S RIDE,” the crowd howled back.

“VROOM VROOM” continued to demolish the dance floor like a sonic earthquake.

Heeseung finally spotted Ivette again—her hands in the air, cheeks flushed, hair wild, screaming the lyrics with feral joy. He shoved through the crowd until he got to her, just as “Gone” began playing and the energy shifted.

Lights dimmed. The bass slowed. Fog rolled in.

The crowd swayed like they were hypnotized. Ivette looked up at Heeseung, breathless. “This song... this one kills me.”

He looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

“Then die with me,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her close as the synths washed over them like a dream.

It was sweaty. Loud. Slightly dangerous.

And absolutely perfect.

Just then—

BANG!

A confetti cannon detonated right above them. Gold foil rained down. People screamed. Someone in a Pikachu onesie passed out nearby.

Charli XCX was now floating on a disco ball suspended from the ceiling, singing “Von Dutch” while everyone on the dance floor entered a spiritual out-of-body experience.

Back by the bar, Jake stood on a table and yelled, “IF I DON’T HOOK UP TONIGHT I’M JOINING A MONASTERY.”

“YOU WON’T SURVIVE MONK LIFE!” Jay shouted back, tossing a glow stick at him.

Megan crowd-surfed to the stage and somehow ended up dancing with Charli before security politely (and violently) returned her to earth.

And still, in the middle of the glittery apocalypse, Heeseung leaned down to Ivette’s ear and whispered:

“You still having fun?”

She turned to him, eyes sparkling like stars in the club lights.

“I’m obsessed.”

He grinned. “Good. Because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Ivette smiled wickedly, dragging him even closer as Charli launched into “Guess” and the crowd screamed like they were being exorcised.

Somewhere in the chaos, someone fell in love, someone broke a bone, and someone else threw up glitter.

And none of them would remember every second.

But Heeseung and Ivette?

They were living every second like it was their last.

And ChiChella had only just begun.

By now, the club looked like a beautiful battlefield.

The air was thick with sweat, glitter, and fog. Shoes had been lost. Hair was ruined. Makeup was melted. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and god knows what else. Bodies swayed and clung to one another in exhausted bliss as the final set approached its end.

Charli XCX stood center stage, backlit in soft purple, her glitter-smudged face glowing as the lights dimmed and the tempo slowed.

She stepped up to the mic, brushing her hair back. “ChiChella,” she said, breathless but smiling, “this one’s for when you’re drunk and in love... or maybe just pretending.”

The soft, dreamy synths of “Everything is Romantic” began to play.

The crowd let out a collective gasp—a reverent hush fell like a spell.

Ivette froze, her eyes lifting toward the stage. “No way she’s ending with this,” she whispered, like saying it too loud might break the magic.

Heeseung was right beside her, one hand still around her waist, the other gently brushing back a strand of hair that had stuck to her cheek.

“Of course she is,” he said softly. “You called it.”

The beat floated through the air like smoke—lush, nostalgic, a little sad, a little euphoric.

Ivette turned to face him. Her face was flushed, eyes wide and glassy with the glow of neon lights and hours of dancing. She looked unreal, like a dream wrapped in rhinestones and eyeliner.

Heeseung stared at her like he’d been waiting all night to just look.

They stood still while the rest of the club swayed, wrapped in their own little bubble as the chorus began:

“Everything is…”

Ivette smiled. A soft, secret smile.

Heeseung leaned in. “You know, I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”

She tilted her head. “Do what?”

He didn't answer.

He just kissed her.

It was soft. Warm. Familiar in a way that made her chest ache.

No cheering. No clapping. Just them.

When they finally pulled apart, she laughed under her breath, stunned. “Took you long enough.”

Heeseung chuckled. “I know. I’m slow sometimes.”

Another moment passed. The bridge of the song rose like a gentle wave behind them.

He reached for both of her hands, still holding her close. “I know this probably isn’t the time or place,” he began, “but—”

She raised an eyebrow. “Heeseung.”

“Let me finish,” he grinned, a little nervous. “I really like you. Like, a lot. And I know tonight was chaos and sweat and lasers and probably a concussion somewhere, but…”

She blinked, stunned.

“…will you be my girlfriend?”

Ivette looked at him, glitter catching in the corners of her eyes, heart thudding in her chest. “You’re asking me that in the middle of a Charli XCX set?”

“She said it herself,” Heeseung said, gesturing around them. “Everything is romantic.”

Ivette let out a breathy laugh and kissed him again, harder this time, just as the song swelled behind them. Then she pulled back and nodded, grinning.

“Yes. Obviously.”

The crowd kept dancing around them, lost in their own highs and heartbreaks, but for Heeseung and Ivette, the rest of the world melted away.

Because for one perfect moment—in the middle of glittery chaos, surrounded by friends, synth-pop, and the voice of Charli XCX—

Everything really was romantic.

As the last dreamy synths of “Everything is Romantic” echoed into the night and the crowd buzzed with post-kiss, post-Charli euphoria, Ivette was still wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, swaying gently like they were the only two people left in the universe.

Until, of course—

“IVY? IS THAT YOU?!”

Ivette whipped her head around.

Two figures in horrifically obvious disguises were barging through the dance floor. One wore a huge blonde wig, oversized pink sunglasses, and a cowboy hat with the word “SLUT” in rhinestones. The other had on a fake mustache and a “I <3 NYC” hoodie despite being very much in a neon rave.

“WHAT IN THE—” Heeseung blinked. “Is that—?”

“MARK? SUNOO?!” Ivette shrieked.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea as the two removed their disguises dramatically. Sunoo flung off his mustache. Mark threw his wig into the crowd. Some girl caught it and screamed like she’d won a Grammy.

“YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HAVE CHICHELLA WITHOUT US?!” Mark yelled.

“CHARLI XCX IS MY MOTHER, I HAD TO BE HERE,” Sunoo cried, grabbing both of Ivette’s hands and spinning her in a full circle while screaming.

“You’re not even in our frat!” Jake yelled from across the room, completely unfazed.

“I am in the fraternity of the vibe!” Mark responded, and then started dancing with a random inflatable alien like it was prom night.

“HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE?!” Dani yelled, half-laughing, half-concerned.

“We hacked the RSVP list,” Sunoo said proudly. “Mark posed as a DJ named Lil Beige and I told security I was a sparkle vendor.”

“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE!” Megan screamed.

“LOVE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO MAKE SENSE,” Sunoo screamed back, now crying a little and twerking at the same time.

Just when everyone thought things couldn’t get more unhinged—

A sharp whistle pierced the air.

Everyone froze.

A man stood near the back of the club in a tailored blazer, arms folded, slowly pushing up his sunglasses with the deadly patience of a man who had seen too much.

“…Is that Mr. Suh?” Heeseung said, blinking in disbelief.

“OUR ADVISOR MR. SUH?” Jay yelled.

“NO F***ING WAY!” Niki screamed and immediately ducked behind a fog machine.

“WHO THE HELL LET HIM IN?” Jungwon yelped, still mid-conga line.

Mr. Suh walked forward with the slow, terrifying energy of someone who knew your GPA and your dark secrets.

The room quieted. Glitter drifted slowly to the floor.

He stopped in front of everyone, adjusted his tie, and said in a low, deadly voice:

“…I came to see Charli XCX.”

Everyone stared.

Mr. Suh then did a sudden, perfect body roll to the beat drop of “Club Classics,” which had just come on, and the entire club collectively screamed.

“MR. SUH IS A SLUT POP GIRLIE?!” Dani screamed, collapsing into Megan’s arms.

Heeseung stood completely stunned. Ivette had a hand over her mouth in disbelief.

“IS THIS A FEVER DREAM?” Jay asked.

“No,” Sunoo whispered with awe, “this is the best night of my life.”

Mr. Suh grabbed a glow stick and joined the dance floor like he owned it. And he did.

From there, the energy exploded again: Mark climbed onto a speaker and tried to stage dive (he was caught by two girls and a guy dressed as SpongeBob). Sunoo led a synchronized dance to “Apple”. Niki somehow ended up with a mic and screamed, “EVERYBODY MAKE SOME NOISE FOR GIRLBOSS ENERGY!”

Meanwhile, Ivette looked back at Heeseung, both of them blinking in wild, disbelieving happiness.

“You know,” she said, “I almost thought that kiss was the peak of tonight.”

“Same,” Heeseung said, watching as Mr. Suh did the worm on the light-up floor. “But this…? This is history.”

They kissed again, glitter raining down like confetti from the rafters, the club a complete and beautiful mess.

It was chaos. It was magic. It was ChiChella.

And it was absolutely unforgettable.

[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

9. NEPOTISM

Ivette checked her reflection one last time in the hallway mirror. Her hair was swept into a loose curls, and her mini skirt hung just right over her hips. Not very casual but no one there was going to be. It was definitely not like she was freaking out over the fact that Heeseung was picking her up to go pre his frat house. Definitely not. 

Her phone buzzed. *Heeseung: outside :) *

She grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and practically flew out the door.

He was leaning against the passenger side of his car, dressed in a white flowy short sleeve button down and linen pants, looking effortlessly handsome like he didn’t know he made her stomach flip. Or maybe he did. Hard to tell with Heeseung.

“There she is,” he said, flashing that half-smile that made her blink twice. “You ready?”

Ivette laughed lightly as she slid into the passenger seat. “You always stand like that when you’re waiting?”

“I only do it for people I like,” he teased as he closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side of his black Bronco.

The drive was full of easy conversation and some heated debate about whether White Chicks was funnier than Superbad. By the time they pulled up to the Theta house, she was already laughing again.

“You sure it’s okay I’m coming?” she asked, tugging the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands as they walked up the front steps.

Heeseung glanced at her sideways. “Ivette. If I had it my way, you’d never leave. And of course it's ok everyone is gonna be there.”

Her heart jumped just a bit.

The door creaked open before she could respond, revealing a chaotic scene inside—music playing, girls already dancing, some guy at the bar making crazy concoctions who she would later learn was Heeseungs friend Jay, someone in the kitchen trying to cook mac and cheese in a pot that looked dangerously smoky.

“Niki!” Heeseung called out.

A moment later, a tall, dark-haired boy peeked his head around the corner from the living room. He had a pair of oversized pink heart sunglasses perched on his head and was holding a bag of popcorn.

“Heeseung! You finally brought your mystery girl!”

Ivette blinked. “Mystery girl?”

Heeseung coughed. “Ignore him. Niki, this is Ivette. Ivette—my little. Niki.”

Niki grinned. “Hey! He talks about you all the time. Thought he was making you up to make himself seem cooler.”

Ivette laughed. “Unfortunately, I’m real.”

“And cooler than him,” said another voice from the hallway.

A tall guy with dyed blond hair and sleepy eyes strolled in, sipping from a giant borg. He nodded at her like they were already friends.

“Mingyu,” Heeseung said with a sigh. “My gbig.”

Mingyu gave a lazy wave. “Heeseung’s basically my legacy. Any problems, come to me. I’m the reasonable one.”

“I can already tell that’s not true,” Ivette said with a smirk.

Mingyu burst out laughing. “She’s sharp. I like her.”

“Hands off,” Heeseung muttered under his breath, pulling her a little closer.

“Relax, loverboy,” Niki said, tossing a handful of popcorn at Heeseung. “You’re already whipped.”

Ivette’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t mind. Not one bit.

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

8. CHARLI XCX??

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

7. BEN AND ANDIE

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

6. PROFESSER SUH

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

5. IM GONNA HAVE A BF!

Ivette had just finished tidying the last bit of clutter in her living room when there was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock—it was right on time.

She opened it to find Heeseung standing there with a laptop under one arm, a neatly organized folder in hand, and a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope I’m not too early.”

“You’re literally on the dot,” Ivette said, stepping aside. “You’re putting all the other group members to shame.”

Heeseung gave a soft laugh as he stepped into the apartment. “I take punctuality very seriously. My mom’s a teacher.”

Ivette grinned and pointed toward the small dining table. “We can work over there. I already printed out the outline, so we just need to plug in the data and then we’re basically done.”

As they settled into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation flowed easily—less stiff than the first few times they’d met during class. Heeseung wasn’t as shy now, especially with the soft background music and the scent of cinnamon tea wafting from the kitchen.

Ivette glanced up from her screen at one point and caught him smiling to himself.

“What?” she asked.

He looked up. “Nothing. Just… this is a nice way to spend an evening.”

Ivette tilted her head. “You mean being elbows deep in presentation slides?”

“No, I mean,” he said with a chuckle, “being here. You’re easy to be around.”

She smiled, a little bashful. “You’re not so bad yourself, Brady.”

Heeseung groaned. “Don’t remind me. That costume was a cry for help.”

“I thought it was kind of adorable.”

“I thought it was kind of tragic,” he said. “But... at least you didn’t laugh in my face. That was a win.”

They returned to work for another twenty minutes, polishing up the final few bullet points. Once they hit “save,” Heeseung leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

“Well, that’s that. Project saved, GPA hopefully salvaged.”

Ivette stood and stretched. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? I was gonna watch a movie anyway.”

He blinked. “Really? I mean, yeah—if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said, heading toward the kitchen. “I have popcorn too.”

Heeseung sat back down on the couch, trying to act casual. “So... what’s your go-to movie?”

Ivette leaned out of the kitchen, already opening the popcorn bag. “I asked you first.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m already laughing.”

“Okay, but seriously. White Chicks.”

Ivette stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. “White Chicks? Are you serious?”

He held a hand to his chest. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“No way.”

“Yes way! I know all the words to the Vanessa Carlton scene.”

“Oh my god.” Ivette was practically wheezing. “That’s either tragic or iconic. I haven’t decided.”

“I’ll prove it,” he said, grabbing a pillow and clutching it like a mic. “‘And I need youuuu…’”

“Stop,” she said, laughing as she came back with the popcorn and plopped down next to him. “You’re lucky I actually own that movie.”

“You do?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah, because it’s hilarious. I watch it when I need to remember the world isn’t totally falling apart.”

“See? Soulmates,” he said with a grin, nudging her with his elbow.

She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and tossed half over him. “Don’t make it weird, Brady.”

The movie started, and they slipped into a comfortable silence, broken only by bursts of laughter and Heeseung quoting lines under his breath. By the time the dance battle scene came on, Ivette was curled up with her head on the armrest, laughing into the blanket.

Heeseung glanced at her, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her instead of the screen for a moment. The flickering light danced across her features, and he had the fleeting thought that this—this weird, cozy, popcorn-covered moment—was the best part of his whole week.

“Hey,” Ivette said, catching his stare.

“What?”

“You’re doing that soft-sweet-shy-boy look again.”

He flushed. “Sorry. It just—it’s cool, hanging out like this.”

Ivette offered him a piece of popcorn. “Then don’t be shy. You can hang out again, y’know.”

He took the popcorn. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “Just bring your movie opinions next time.”

“I have strong opinions about The Parent Trap too.”

“God help me.”

They both laughed, and as the movie played on, the space between them grew smaller.

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

4. PLEDGES HIT WITH CARS?

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

3. THE WINNER

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

2. JACKSON WANGS RAGER

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The soft thump-thump of bass-heavy pop music vibrated through the floorboards of the apartment as the golden hour bled into twilight. Inside, the three-bedroom flat belonging to Ivette, Dani, and Megan was awash in organized chaos—fake lashes, white feathers, curling irons, and coffee cups cluttered every available surface. Strings of fairy lights twinkled between pink boas and hanging cobwebs, and a pumpkin-scented candle flickered near the window, trying its best to compete with the scent of hairspray and perfume.

Tonight was the night.

Jackson Wang's Halloween party was legendary—half rave, half runway show, with paparazzi-level photos from last year still making the rounds on Instagram. Word on campus was that he’d transformed the entire Sigma Chi house into a “House of Sins” theme—seven rooms, each a deadly sin. And the girls? They were going as Victoria’s Secret Angels—because nothing screamed irony like angels in a house full of sin.

Ivette stood in front of the full-length mirror in the living room. Her long, dark curls spilled over her shoulders like ink, framing her glowing, golden skin. She was slipping into her rhinestone-covered bra, the kind that looked like it had been made with fairy dust and danger, “Tell me again why we don’t do this every weekend?”

Dani, lounging on the couch in a silk robe and already wearing her glittering wings, popped a strawberry into her mouth. Her bright red lipstick was flawless, her cheeks dusted with enough shimmer to blind a man, “Because wings don’t fit in the backseat of an Uber.”

Megan, in the kitchen, was bent over a pair of heels she was gluing rhinestones onto. Her blonde hair was twisted into a perfect updo with soft strands curled around her face. She wore a white satin teddy and had the most dramatic halo of the group—LED-lit and glowing faintly. “Also, it took me forty minutes to get these lashes on. I could feel them judging me the whole time.” Dani laughed, “That’s because your lashes are basically parasols.”

 Megan rolled her eyes, “Jealousy is not a good look on you, Dani.” They laughed, the sound floating through the apartment like champagne bubbles.

Ivette walked to the kitchen pouring them all another shot, “How’re the shoes coming?”

“Held together with hope and Gorilla Glue, baby. If they make it through tonight, I’m marrying them.” She sighed before grabbing the shot that was poured for her.

 “And if they don’t?” Dani asked, now sitting on one of their barstools by the counter.

“I’ll dance barefoot like a forest nymph with a credit card bill.”

“That's the spirit, now come on, Baddie baddie shot o'clock!!” Ivette sang.

As the clock crept past 8, the final stage of transformation began. Ivette fluffed out their wings—soft, white, and too big to fit through the front door without turning sideways. Dani spritzed all three of them with her signature perfume (“Reckless Angel,” ironically). Megan slipped on her rhinestone choker and gave her reflection a wink.

Ivette applied her final touches before asking, “Okay, ladies. Checklist. Lipstick?” 

 “On.” Megan replied

“Highlighter?”

“Blinding.” Dani smiled.

“Attitude?” Megan winked. 

Ivette brushed her hair off her shoulder, “ Unbothered and borderline illegal.”

They all laughed again as Megan queued the night’s anthem: “Nokia” by Drake

Just then, a text popped up on Dani’s phone.

Mark 😈: “Party already popping. Y’all better show up before the first room runs out of sin.”

Dani held up her phone to the others, “That’s our cue!”

“Let’s cause some chaos.” Ivette laughed before calling the uber. 

The upstairs lounge of the Halloween party was dim and sultry, a haze of purple lights and low music swaying around velvet couches and heavy curtains. While the chaos roared downstairs, the top floor felt like another world—one where secrets whispered instead of shouted.

Ivette adjusted the feathered wings strapped to her back as she stepped into the lounge, eyes immediately locking onto the figure sprawled over a chaise. Mark, one of their closest friends, was unmistakably wasted.

“Angels?” he slurred as he blinked at her. “Or... am I dead?”

Dani snorted beside her. “You’re not that lucky, Mark.”

Megan leaned in close, fanning herself. “He’s sweating tequila. I can smell it.”

Ivette crouched next to him, a patient smile tugging at her lips. “Mark, how many drinks?”

Mark looked at her with the serious solemnity only drunk people could manage. “Enough to forgive my ex… and then remember why I shouldn’t.”

Dani rolled her eyes, laughing. “Okay, that’s our cue to keep him upright and away from his phone.”

“I love you guys,” Mark murmured, swaying a little as he slumped further into the cushions. “You’re my soulmates. My ride or die. My Uber XL.”

Ivette brushed a hand through his messy hair and stood up. “You two got him?”

“We’ll babysit,” Megan assured her, nudging Dani. “Go find Jungwon.”

Ivette flashed them a grateful smile before slipping back into the swirling energy of the party. She followed the hallway, moving past the door labeled “Room of Wrath,” and into the more subdued “Room of Greed,” where a few guests lounged around a velvet pool table. Jungwon was nowhere in sight.

Instead, her eyes landed on someone unexpected.

Heeseung.

He was standing awkwardly near the corner bar cart, pretending to examine bottles of liquor while holding a football tightly under one arm. He wore a Tom Brady jersey, his dark hair tousled, a hint of glitter clinging to his cheekbones from earlier festivities. The smudged eye black under his eyes gave him a boyish charm, as though he’d rubbed it off in a moment of anxiety and just left it.

When he noticed her, he stiffened like he’d been caught doing something criminal.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ivette said, making her way over.

Heeseung’s laugh was quiet, shy. “I, uh... lost a bet with my roommate. If I didn’t show up, he was gonna Photoshop me into a cheerleading outfit for my Zoom profile.”

“Cruel,” she said with a chuckle. “But effective.”

He nodded, then his gaze trailed over her costume—Victoria’s Secret angel wings, glittered makeup, and all. He swallowed hard, clearly flustered.

“You look… um… really good.”

Ivette raised a brow. “Just good? I expect at least divine.”

“You look divine,” he said quickly. “Celestial. Out of my league. Wait—no, I meant—”

She laughed, delighted. “Relax. I’m teasing.”

“I’m panicking,” he admitted, flushing.

“You’re doing fine.”

His hand nervously adjusted the football in his grasp. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “You’re the only one in our group project with a staring problem.”

He looked stunned. “You noticed?”

She smiled. “Of course but its all good, I’d stare at me too if I were you”

There was a moment of quiet. The music thumped faintly behind them, but in the dim corner, it felt like a pause in the chaos.

“I was kind of hoping I’d run into you,” Heeseung said softly.

Ivette tilted her head. “Were you?”

“Yeah. But I figured someone like you wouldn’t talk to someone like me at a party like this.”

She stepped closer, wings shifting behind her as she leaned in. “What does ‘someone like me’ mean?”

“Someone who lights up every room,” he said before he could stop himself.

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “You’re kind of a surprise.”

“A good one?”

She nodded. “So far.”

They smiled at each other before she was pulled away by Jungwon who appeared out of thin air it seemed, as he was pulled away by his friend Sunghoon.

“Ivette!! Where have you been!!!” He hugged her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Oh my god you and Mark are never pre gaming again I swear.”

“What!!” He slurred, sipping on water that she got from the bar cart.

She weaved her way through the crowd before spotting Sunoo who was flirting with god know who on the couch, “Sunoo, thank god! Please sober him up.”

“Ugh you know I hate being the babysitter,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll pay for your wingstop tomorrow.”

“Come sit Wonnie!” He smiled.

Ivette weaved her way through the crowd, still holding back a smile from her encounter with Heeseung now that she was alone.

The hallway pulsed with music and bodies dressed in everything from horror to hilarity. As she ducked back into the lounge where she’d left Mark, she expected to see him exactly as she had before—barely upright, mumbling poetry about his ex. Instead, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Mark was now on the floor.

Next to him, just as sloppily strewn across an overturned bean bag, was a hot man dressed as Woody from Toy Story—cowboy hat askew, vest half-buttoned, and an empty Solo cup balanced precariously on his knee.

“Mark?” Ivette said carefully.

He looked up, wide-eyed. “Ivette! I found my Big!”

Jaehyun, the Woody impersonator and Mark’s beloved frat big, raised his arm sluggishly in greeting, nearly knocking over the cup.

“Ivyyyyyy,” he slurred, grinning ear to ear. “You look like if Halloween and heaven had a baby.”

Mark nodded emphatically. “See why I pledged under him? Poetic genius.”

Ivette folded her arms, looking down at the disaster duo. “You both look like you’ve been wrestling tequila worms.”

“We weren’t wrestling,” Jaehyun insisted, blinking slowly. “We were bonding. Over heartbreak and…the state of the American education system.”

“Dani said she was gonna keep an eye on you,” Ivette muttered, crouching to help Mark up.

“She did,” Mark said, swaying in her grasp. “But then Megan challenged her to a dance-off with a random Hooters girl. I think she’s still twerking.”

Ivette groaned. “Of course she is.”

Jaehyun, still sprawled on the bean bag, pointed at Mark. “Tell her about the plan.”

Mark nodded seriously. “We’re gonna open a bar on the beach in Costa Rica.”

“It’s called Shots and Regrets,” Jaehyun added with a finger gun.

Ivette looked between the two of them, a mix of fondness and exasperation in her eyes. “Okay, cowboys, you need water. Lots of water. And probably bread.”

Jaehyun started singing under his breath. “You’ve got a frieeeend in me…”

Mark joined in immediately, off-key and passionate. “Yoooou’ve got a frieeeend in me!”

Ivette laughed despite herself. She let Mark lean against her as she pulled him up, then gestured to Jaehyun. “Get up, Sheriff. We’re going to find food before someone records this for Instagram.”

“Too late,” Jaehyun said, waving his phone in the air like a trophy. “Already went viral. Caption: Loyalty looks like this.”

Mark leaned his head on Ivette’s shoulder dramatically. “Ivette… am I your burden?”

“You’re my drunk mess,” she said with a soft smile. “But yes. Tonight? Absolutely my burden.”

As she helped drag the two drunken disasters toward the kitchen, her thoughts wandered briefly to Heeseung—the quiet frat boy with the shaky smile—and the looks he’d given her.

She looked up at the ceiling as Mark hummed the rest of Toy Story’s theme, Jaehyun attempting harmonies that didn’t exist.

Honestly? Tonight was kind of perfect in the weirdest way.

Next

[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

THE GROUP PROJECT

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

PROFILES 2 - The Brotherhood

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

PROFILES 1 - Baddies

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[j3nn13]

EVAN LEE IS A LOSER!

Pairing: Heeseung Lee x Fem oc

Genre: Smau, college au

Profiles 1

Profiles 2

1.The Group Project

2.Jackson Wangs Rager

3. The Winner

4. Pledges Hit With Cars?

5. I'm Gonna Have a BF

6. Professor Suh

7. Ben and Andie

8.Charli xcx??

9.Nepotism

10. Chi Chella

MASTERLIST

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