Miami traffic hummed faintly below the penthouse windows. Inside, the four of them sat in the living room, bored and quiet.
"Do you guys feel like we've been abandoned?" Damien lay sprawled on the sofa in black shorts, crimson eyes fixed on the blank television. His locs shifted against his jaw as he turned his head.
"Huh?" Renji sat on the floor by Damien's feet, white hair falling into his eyes. He wore a graphic tee of some anime girl over grey sweatpants. "What the hell are you talking about?"
A beat of silence. Then: "Did you smoke that homeless man's weed again?" Renji raised an eyebrow, deadpan.
Across the couch, the third sat with his usual straight-backed elegance, sunlight catching in his ash-blonde hair. "What weed are you guys talking about?" Soren asked, dropping onto the arm of the sofa in his white vest and sweatpants.
Damien glanced at him lazily. "A homeless guy forced me to smoke his weed."
"How the fuck does a homeless guy force you to smoke weed?" Jiwon turned to him, confused.
"He forced the homeless guy to give him the weed," Renji said, eyes still on the blank TV.
Soren pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Damien. What does Renji mean by you forced a homeless guy to give you weed?"
Damien sniffed, scratching the back of his neck. "That's not the damn point."
"Fuck the damn point — you forcibly got weed from a homeless guy!" Jiwon sat up, arms spread.
Damien rolled his eyes and groaned. "We're focusing on the wrong thing." He sat up, a mischievous grin spreading. "Why don't we go to a party?"
Silence settled over the room.
"Hm." Soren held his chin, leaning back, gaze drifting upward. "It's been a while since we went to a party."
Jiwon's expression relaxed. "It's been what, years on Earth? Those adventures really took our minds off having fun." He chuckled.
Soren's lips tugged into a faint smile. "We can do that."
"Wait a damn minute." Jiwon sat forward, but Damien had already stood, moving down the hallway. "You didn't answer my damn question, Damien. How the hell did you force a homeless man to give you weed?!" He followed, blue eyes trained on Damien's back.
The crescent moon hung over the high-rises by the time they stepped out onto the street. Cars passed, pedestrians drifted by — a few glancing at Jiwon's outfit: an unbuttoned light blue shirt over a white vest, faded jeans, white sneakers.
"Wait, what party are we going to?" Jiwon looked over. His eyes caught Damien's outfit first — a navy tee with a white "07" stitched across the front, baggy black jeans, Timberlands beneath.
Damien glanced away, then back. "We're just gonna walk around and hope we get invited." He smirked.
"Oh look, it's the homeless guy," Renji said, nodding toward a rugged man perched on a low wall, a blunt between his lips. Renji's shirt sat mostly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the forearm.
Jiwon's head snapped toward the man.
"You'll snap your neck," Soren said, pushing off the glass behind him, dark turtleneck sleeves rolled to match.
Jiwon shrugged it off.
The four fell into step — Damien with a loose swagger, Renji moving with quiet efficiency, Soren carrying himself with easy grace, Jiwon trailing with an unbothered slouch.
Hours later, they stood on a street none of them recognized.
"Where are we?" Renji crossed his arms.
"Hell," Damien said, sliding his hands into his pockets.
A car screeched to a stop behind them. None of them flinched.
The window rolled down. "I ain't never thought I'd see a bunch of dumbasses standing in the road, but here we are." A dark-haired, freckled man leaned out. "Move, damn it!"
Damien turned toward the man. "And I never thought I'd hear a girl's voice come from a man in my life."
"Tryna get cancelled?" Renji raised an eyebrow.
Damien rolled his eyes.
Jiwon leaned toward the car window. "Uh — do you know where the nearest party is?" A radiant smile touched his face.
The man met his gaze, then exhaled. "I am actually going to one." A beat. He jerked a thumb toward the backseat. "Y'all can hop in."
"Are we trusting the guy that easily?" Soren asked as Damien and Renji started walking.
"What's he gonna do? It's not like he can do anything to us." Damien shrugged, and Soren followed.
The car pulled off down the road. Damien nodded along to a rap song, leaning forward. "Man, who's this?"
"Lil Pop." Damien's face twisted into confusion. He looked at Soren and mouthed, 'who the fuck is Lil Pop?'
Soren shrugged.
The car slowed outside a two-story house, cars packed along the driveway and street, music thudding through the ground as they stepped out.
Soren spotted a group of blondes laughing over plastic cups. He raised an eyebrow. "Y'all have fun."
"Looks like the prince is going to find his princesses," Damien muttered, smirking, as Soren peeled off toward them.
The other three pushed through the front door. Music rushed them, and Renji and Damien both winced.
"Should I talk to a gi—" Jiwon's expression went hard. An unattended bowl of ice cream sat on the counter.
Renji looked around for him — and found Damien already pointing. Jiwon was face-deep in the bowl.
He came up grinning, eyes lit, and dove back in.
Renji shook his head, glanced at Damien, and the two of them wandered off into the party.
Hours passed. Then a voice cut through the music. "HEY!"
Everything stopped. "Who the hell is eating all the ice cream?!" A lanky blond man pointed at Jiwon, five bowls deep.
Jiwon blinked, scooped another spoonful, and smiled. "Hi."
A nasally voice spoke up. "Ay, matter of fact — who are the two bozos eating chips on the couch?"
Heads turned to Renji and Damien, chewing popcorn, watching a football game. They turned back, unbothered.
"Ay, Mark — ain't that yo girl talking to that blond dude?" The crowd turned toward Soren, whose sentence had died mid-word talking to one of the blondes.
The lanky blond — Mark — spoke again. "Who the hell are all of you?"
"Look," Damien said, tossing another kernel in his mouth, "you're not gonna know everyone in your own house. We could've come with someone you know."
"Who did you come with?"
"Huh?"
"Who. Did you come. With."
Silence.
"That's not the point though," Damien drawled.
"Get these fuckers out my house." Mark's guys started moving in.
Damien popped another kernel like a pill and stood. He stretched, then broke into a sprint and dove straight through a window onto the grass. "AH!"
Renji, already halfway to the door, met the guy's eyes and bolted.
"He's stealing the damn ice cream!"
Jiwon grabbed two more bowls and shoved through the crowd, shocking a few people with the strength behind it, and vanished out the door.
Soren lifted his phone from the girl's hand, leaned in for a peck on the lips, then backed toward an open window. "We're grateful you let us into your home." He bowed his head — and fell backward out the window.
Through the windows, the party watched four figures sprinting down the road — Damien grinning, Renji blank-faced, Soren with a faint smile, and Jiwon still eating through the ice cream.