Camila stares at the half-open door, yellow light illuminating through the small crack. She can smell Yohan’s scent from outside, strong and alluring almost calling out to her. Her fingers touch the white door, and only after a few seconds does she lightly push it and walk inside. She quietly closes the door, walking into the room with light footsteps. Her heart feels like it’s crawled its way into her throat. Her hands shake as she looks around at the obscenely normal room.

To her left is a king bed with black covers and pillowcases, and a black carpet on the white-tilled floor. To the right of the bed, is a dark wood night table, and on top a black cologne bottle, and a silver watch. Camila walks to the closed closet that’s on the right wall and opens it. Her gums immediately flare open, sharp teeth exposing themselves. There’s no hunger behind the action, but rather an obscene feeling to lick and taste.

Inside the closet are rows of shirts and neatly stacked pants. On the floor, black shoes are lined from the left to the right. Just before the shoes hit the wall, they're stopped by a large white basket filled with clothing. Her eyes focus on the basket, and she can tell it’s dirty laundry by the smell of sweat, liquor, and motor oil.

She feels a deep, thrilling warmth spread over her, as though a gentle fire has been set inside her stomach. Her fingertips tingle when she reaches over to the basket, and they touch the soft fabric of a shirt. She takes Yohan’s shirt out, and rubs it between her thumb and finger, before bringing it up to her nose.

Sweat. Spice. Pinewood.

Camila lets out a wet gasp, inhaling Yohan’s scents. Part of her wants to push away the shirt, but another part revels in the intoxicating and disturbing experience. Camila noses at the fabric, holding it with both hands, and a shudder crosses her body, as her tongue darts to the fabric.

When her knees touch the floor, she can see it. The vivid image of Yohan spread in front of her, chest cavity open, heart in display for her. His cheeks are dusted pink and his eyes milky white, without an inch of fear or disgust. Her spine tingles deliciously and just as she’s about to place the shirt back, she hears plates clatter and chairs move.

Camila leaves Yohan’s room, discarding the shirt inside the basket. When she gets down to the kitchen, Yohan is walking towards the sink and Jin is cracking another bottle open. She avoids looking at Yohan, but she knows he’s looking at her.

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She moves towards a red-faced Jin and takes a swing of the barely opened dark green bottle. The liquid burns her throat as it goes down, leaving a sweet aftertaste of strawberry. Camila staggers, coughing into her shoulder.

“Jesus,” Shey says with a cough, “What is that?”

Jin smiles, “Soju.”

She places the bottle in front of Jin, a chill hurling down her spine, “It tastes like juice for alcoholics.” Camila slightly bent down, inspecting Jin’s face. “Is this why your face is so flushed?”

Jin’s eyes are lidded, a loopy smile on his red face. He giggles are Camila’s words, simply jumping on her with a tight hug. They stagger back, while she holds him in place a hand on his waist. He babbles in her ear, words coming out in a foreign language, with a mix of English.

“This is…so...I’m very happy…” Jin slurs.

Camila pats him on the back, her head still in Yohan’s room. She holds Jin with a tight grip, only loosening her fingers when she meets Yohan’s eyes. He stares at her, eyes focused on her hands then darting to her face. His jaw is clenched, and she can smell something sour in the air. Her eyes move away from Yohan, holding Jin and walking him outside the kitchen and on the couch. She lets him fall, bouncing until he stops and begins snoring.

She feels Marie close in on her from behind, and as she turns, Marie’s face is red, “Let’s go.”

Camila does not protest and simply nods. Marie says their goodbyes while she heads outside, slipping inside the car. Midnight arrives quickly, and they only make it back to the house just as the club seems to have oddly slowed down into silence and night animals are waking up.

When they make it inside the house, Camila stops in front of the door. “I’m going back to our house.”

Marie's eyes widen, eyebrows furrowed to the top of her forehead. “For what?”, She turns from Camila, walking towards the kitchen. Her voice echoes around the floral wallpaper, “The house is empty, there is no point in going back.”

“We both know it’s not empty and…I need a second to think.”

Marie's jaw flexes, “Whatever.”

Camila slips out of the house into the world. Her feet float into the air, rushing through the thick trees quickly passing the bright club of Red Soul. The world suddenly feels odd, she takes two steps toward the club, twigs crunching under her boots.

She pauses when the back door in front of her slightly opens, smoke pouring out into the air. The smell of tobacco makes its way to her nose, along with the alcohol and spice. The door opens enough that she sees Yohan taking a drag out of a cigarette. He stops when he sees her, but she takes a step back and runs into the dark woods, letting the night cover her.