Joon-won continued to sit on the couch, watching the blur of bodies and flashing lights, until a group of women approached. They spotted their friend, the one who had slumped opposite him, and set about rousing her.
She blinked groggily, struggling to focus as they shook her awake and exchanged hurried words. Without so much as a glance in his direction, they helped her out of the pub, weaving through the throng.
As they disappeared through the exit, Joon-won leaned back, sipping his juice and observing the frenetic energy around him. The scene was unchanged: people leaping and gyrating to the relentless beat. Bored and out of place, he drained his glass and stood up, stretching stiff muscles.
Scanning the crowded dance floor for Mo Yang, he quickly gave up. The mass of bodies was impenetrable, a chaotic swirl of motion and noise. Not wanting to dive into the maelstrom, he shot Mo Yang a quick text and headed for the exit.
