As the night wound down, Jiyeon found herself sitting in the backseat of the sleek black car that Yura had insisted on taking. She rested her head against the cool glass of the window, letting the gentle hum of the road lull her into a rare moment of calm. After the chaos of the evening, the silence was a welcome relief. Well, almost silent—Kang was in the front seat, telling the driver all about his heroic "rescue" of the event earlier, embellishing every detail to an obnoxious degree.
"Yeah, if it wasn't for me, that dessert table would've gone up in flames. I had to act fast," Kang said, turning around in his seat to give Jiyeon a triumphant look.
Jiyeon groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I wasn't going to set the table on fire, Kang. Just that one crème brûlée."
Yura, seated beside her, chuckled under her breath. "You do have a bit of a pyromaniac streak when it comes to food."
