sox
محبت
vampire
dominic fike
what happens on fright night
...
i only showed up to tell you everyone at this party's a vampire
— this ain't red wine.
we're all food for the bloodsuckers movin' up under the moonlight
— like the vampires.
just like a ghost town, your best friends weren't even there
and the whole time, you realized you don't even care.
when that alarm strikes seven like, goin' on your feather-white
bed of white lies, last night was a set up.
endless rows of jinro bottles lining the cobweb-coated shelves, bloody-hued strobe lights reflecting off dancing bodies, and the goriest pop songs with a booming 808 blasting through the speakers — all other halloweekend parties paled in comparison to the treachery taking place in the hazy mansion of choi sungwoon, infamous son of the athletic director and deliriously wealthy playboy. despite its renown, only the elite and the beautiful were permitted access past the doors of the exclusive venue, the guest list strictly monitored at the head of the line by a no-nonsense bouncer built like two pro-wrestlers standing side-by-side.
once past the entry checkpoint, however, only one rule remained: every guest that walked through those doors must take a syringe shot filled with a mysterious concoction of liquors— no excuses, and absolutely no exceptions.
for the restless cast of four set to gather on such a stage, the night had only just begun and expectations and adrenaline ran high in tandem. despite his faults, sungwoon was quite well-regarded for his high-budget soirees hosting a dauntingly clear swimming pool along with delectable crowd of attractive young adults. the serpent-like man was well-acquainted with nearly every beauty and heartthrob on campus, resulting in a hotspot for the university's finest singles to mingle and let loose together without the fear of aggressive outsiders barging in. the cherry on top? the booze was virtually all free; the only cover charge sungwoon asked of his guests was that everyone hit the dance floor by midnight— not too tall of an order by any means for some fresh-faced college kids.
and so the party began, already in full swing long before the clock struck twelve as werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and television characters alike lined up to shotgun spiked seltzers, compete in a few rounds of pong, make out with a stranger, or hit the basement dance floor — all while tossing back round after round of spooky-themed shots, of course. as for the host himself, he could be found lounging in the hot tub with na-ri and a handful of groupies, having discarded his jack skellington costume within the first hour save for the skeletal makeup on his face.
— this ain't red wine.
we're all food for the bloodsuckers movin' up under the moonlight
— like the vampires.
they can tell that your mind is a mess
take someone you don't even like to your bed.
when it's over, you roll out, you come down the stairs
and there's no sign, the party vanished into thin air.
take someone you don't even like to your bed.
when it's over, you roll out, you come down the stairs
and there's no sign, the party vanished into thin air.
just like a ghost town, your best friends weren't even there
and the whole time, you realized you don't even care.
when that alarm strikes seven like, goin' on your feather-white
bed of white lies, last night was a set up.
— one, two...
endless rows of jinro bottles lining the cobweb-coated shelves, bloody-hued strobe lights reflecting off dancing bodies, and the goriest pop songs with a booming 808 blasting through the speakers — all other halloweekend parties paled in comparison to the treachery taking place in the hazy mansion of choi sungwoon, infamous son of the athletic director and deliriously wealthy playboy. despite its renown, only the elite and the beautiful were permitted access past the doors of the exclusive venue, the guest list strictly monitored at the head of the line by a no-nonsense bouncer built like two pro-wrestlers standing side-by-side.
once past the entry checkpoint, however, only one rule remained: every guest that walked through those doors must take a syringe shot filled with a mysterious concoction of liquors— no excuses, and absolutely no exceptions.
for the restless cast of four set to gather on such a stage, the night had only just begun and expectations and adrenaline ran high in tandem. despite his faults, sungwoon was quite well-regarded for his high-budget soirees hosting a dauntingly clear swimming pool along with delectable crowd of attractive young adults. the serpent-like man was well-acquainted with nearly every beauty and heartthrob on campus, resulting in a hotspot for the university's finest singles to mingle and let loose together without the fear of aggressive outsiders barging in. the cherry on top? the booze was virtually all free; the only cover charge sungwoon asked of his guests was that everyone hit the dance floor by midnight— not too tall of an order by any means for some fresh-faced college kids.
and so the party began, already in full swing long before the clock struck twelve as werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and television characters alike lined up to shotgun spiked seltzers, compete in a few rounds of pong, make out with a stranger, or hit the basement dance floor — all while tossing back round after round of spooky-themed shots, of course. as for the host himself, he could be found lounging in the hot tub with na-ri and a handful of groupies, having discarded his jack skellington costume within the first hour save for the skeletal makeup on his face.
♡coded by uxie♡
location: sungwoon's mansion
date + time: october 31st, 11pm
weather: 14°C/58°F, comfortable with a crispness in the air
— — —
— — —
endless rows of jinro bottles lining the cobweb-coated shelves, bloody-hued strobe lights reflecting off dancing bodies, and the goriest pop songs with a booming 808 blasting through the speakers — all other halloweekend parties paled in comparison to the treachery taking place in the hazy mansion of choi sungwoon, infamous son of the athletic director and deliriously wealthy playboy. despite its renown, only the elite and the beautiful were permitted access past the doors of the exclusive venue, the guest list strictly monitored at the head of the line by a no-nonsense bouncer built like two pro-wrestlers standing side-by-side.
once past the entry checkpoint, however, only one rule remained: every guest that walked through those doors must take a syringe shot filled with a mysterious concoction of liquors— no excuses, and absolutely no exceptions.
for the restless cast of four set to gather on such a stage, the night had only just begun and expectations and adrenaline ran high in tandem. despite his faults, sungwoon was quite well-regarded for his high-budget soirees hosting a dauntingly clear swimming pool along with delectable crowd of attractive young adults. the serpent-like man was well-acquainted with nearly every beauty and heartthrob on campus, resulting in a hotspot for the university's finest singles to mingle and let loose together without the fear of aggressive outsiders barging in. the cherry on top? the booze was virtually all free; the only cover charge sungwoon asked of his guests was that everyone hit the dance floor by midnight— not too tall of an order by any means for some fresh-faced college kids.
and so the party began, already in full swing long before the clock struck twelve as werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and television characters alike lined up to shotgun spiked seltzers, compete in a few rounds of pong, make out with a stranger, or hit the basement dance floor — all while tossing back round after round of spooky-themed shots, of course. as for the host himself, he could be found lounging in the hot tub with na-ri and a handful of groupies, having discarded his jack skellington costume within the first hour save for the skeletal makeup on his face.
date + time: october 31st, 11pm
weather: 14°C/58°F, comfortable with a crispness in the air
— — —
i only showed up to tell you everyone at this party's a vampire
— this ain't red wine.
we're all food for the bloodsuckers movin' up under the moonlight
— like the vampires.
— this ain't red wine.
we're all food for the bloodsuckers movin' up under the moonlight
— like the vampires.
they can tell that your mind is a mess
take someone you don't even like to your bed.
when it's over, you roll out, you come down the stairs
and there's no sign, the party vanished into thin air.
take someone you don't even like to your bed.
when it's over, you roll out, you come down the stairs
and there's no sign, the party vanished into thin air.
just like a ghost town, your best friends weren't even there
and the whole time, you realized you don't even care.
when that alarm strikes seven like, goin' on your feather-white
bed of white lies, last night was a set up.
and the whole time, you realized you don't even care.
when that alarm strikes seven like, goin' on your feather-white
bed of white lies, last night was a set up.
— one, two...
— — —
endless rows of jinro bottles lining the cobweb-coated shelves, bloody-hued strobe lights reflecting off dancing bodies, and the goriest pop songs with a booming 808 blasting through the speakers — all other halloweekend parties paled in comparison to the treachery taking place in the hazy mansion of choi sungwoon, infamous son of the athletic director and deliriously wealthy playboy. despite its renown, only the elite and the beautiful were permitted access past the doors of the exclusive venue, the guest list strictly monitored at the head of the line by a no-nonsense bouncer built like two pro-wrestlers standing side-by-side.
once past the entry checkpoint, however, only one rule remained: every guest that walked through those doors must take a syringe shot filled with a mysterious concoction of liquors— no excuses, and absolutely no exceptions.
for the restless cast of four set to gather on such a stage, the night had only just begun and expectations and adrenaline ran high in tandem. despite his faults, sungwoon was quite well-regarded for his high-budget soirees hosting a dauntingly clear swimming pool along with delectable crowd of attractive young adults. the serpent-like man was well-acquainted with nearly every beauty and heartthrob on campus, resulting in a hotspot for the university's finest singles to mingle and let loose together without the fear of aggressive outsiders barging in. the cherry on top? the booze was virtually all free; the only cover charge sungwoon asked of his guests was that everyone hit the dance floor by midnight— not too tall of an order by any means for some fresh-faced college kids.
and so the party began, already in full swing long before the clock struck twelve as werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and television characters alike lined up to shotgun spiked seltzers, compete in a few rounds of pong, make out with a stranger, or hit the basement dance floor — all while tossing back round after round of spooky-themed shots, of course. as for the host himself, he could be found lounging in the hot tub with na-ri and a handful of groupies, having discarded his jack skellington costume within the first hour save for the skeletal makeup on his face.
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