Their conversation continued naturally after that.
They exchanged contact details, and before long Dasom found herself asking about Steam, his businesses, and how exactly he had ended up owning one of the most popular clubs in Hassano.
Storm laughed. "It's actually a ridiculous story."
"Those are usually the best ones."
He shook his head. "I inherited several real estate buildings and a few billion dollars from an old man I used to do IT support for."
Dasom stared at him. "…That sounds exactly like something that would happen to you."
Storm laughed. "I know."
"You can't just casually drop that information."
"I wish I was joking."
Dasom shook her head in disbelief. "Only Storm Cupcake would accidentally become a billionaire."
"Accidentally is a strong word."
"It really isn't."
The two of them laughed.
Storm leaned back against the edge of his desk.
"The truth is, the stability changed everything."
His tone softened slightly.
"It gave me the opportunity to take care of my health, address a lot of my problems, and stop worrying about surviving day-to-day."
Dasom listened attentively.
"I inherited several of his issues along with the estate," Storm admitted. "The responsibility wasn't exactly light."
"But…" He shrugged.
"I've risen since then."
"Clearly." Dasom gave him an exaggerated once-over. Her eyes swept from head to toe.
"It's paid off for sure."
Storm nearly laughed. "Was that your attempt at flirting?"
"No." The smile on her face immediately gave her away.
"Maybe."
Storm shook his head, amused then he pushed himself away from the desk.
"Well," he said. "I should probably walk you back to your friends."
Dasom nodded. "Probably."
The pair headed toward the door.
Storm opened it for her before following her into the hallway.
The distant bass from the nightclub slowly grew louder again as they made their way toward the staircase.
Then suddenly Dasom stopped.
Storm nearly walked into her. "What's wrong?"
She turned around. "Why don't we go dance?"
Storm blinked. "What?"
"A dance."
"I know what a dance is."
"Good."
Storm immediately shook his head. "I don't really—"
"Everyone can dance."
"Not me."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Storm looked completely unconvinced.
Dasom grinned. "Just follow my lead."
Before he could formulate another excuse, she lightly grabbed his hand.
The contact caught him completely off guard.
"Come on."
And before the owner of Steam Nightclub could protest further, Dasom Lee was already dragging him toward the music.
----
Back at the VIP table, Yixing found himself absentmindedly watching the archway where Dasom had disappeared.
At first he hadn't thought much of it, then Jonathan had emerged alone. The flamboyant promoter immediately returned to managing whatever crisis had developed near the VIP entrance.
No Dasom.
No Storm.
Just Jonathan.
The longer the minutes dragged on, the more aware Yixing became of their absence.
Not that he'd admit it.
Oscar had noticed too.
"Relax," he said casually while taking a sip of his drink.
"I'm relaxed."
Oscar raised an eyebrow. "You've looked at that archway more than you've looked at your drink."
Jean immediately snorted.
Yixing ignored him.
Bee was seconds away from joining the teasing when movement finally appeared at the entrance.
Dasom stepped back into the VIP section.
The conversation around the table immediately resumed, then everyone noticed she wasn't alone.
She was still holding Storm Elio's hand.
The club owner followed closely behind her, looking considerably more relaxed than when she'd first gone upstairs.
Bee's eyes widened.
Jean nearly dropped his drink.
Oscar looked entertained.
Yixing went completely expressionless.
Dasom led Storm directly to the table.
"Everyone," she announced proudly, "the one and only Storm Elio, owner of Steam."
Storm looked mildly embarrassed by the introduction.
Dasom continued. "Storm, this is Bee."
Bee waved enthusiastically. "Hi!"
"Asher—who you're already familiar with."
Storm nodded toward Asher. "Great set tonight."
"Thank you."
"Jean."
Jean immediately stood and offered a handshake.
"My condolences."
Storm blinked. "Sorry?"
"Having to deal with Jonathan every day."
Storm immediately laughed. "A valid concern."
"And Oscar."
Oscar greeted him warmly. "Nice to finally meet you."
"You too."
Then Dasom gestured toward the final person at the table. "And Yixing."
The two men exchanged nods.
Storm smiled. "Good to meet all of you."
Then casually added, "Drinks are on the house tonight."
The reaction was immediate, the table erupted.
"YES!"
"THAT'S MY BOY!"
"I KNEW I LIKED HIM!" Bee looked ready to adopt him into the friend group immediately.
Storm laughed. "Jonathan was right."
"About what?" Dasom asked.
"He said this table was dangerous."
The group collectively agreed.
"Accurate."
Dasom laughed before turning toward her friends.
"Anyway, We're going dancing." She pointed toward the dance floor.
Her friends immediately encouraged her.
"Go!"
"Have fun!"
"Don't trip!"
"Remember us when you're famous."
Dasom rolled her eyes.
Oscar seemed perfectly content with the situation. If anything, he looked amused watching the whole thing unfold.
Yixing, however, had become noticeably quieter.
Not angry. Just…
Silent.
Bee noticed.
Jean noticed.
Oscar definitely noticed.
None of them said anything.
Dasom, thankfully, didn't seem to notice at all.
"Okay!" She smiled brightly.
Without hesitation, she grabbed Storm's hand again.
"Come on."
Storm looked both amused and slightly terrified.
"I still don't dance."
"You do now." And before he could argue further, Dasom pulled him toward the dance floor.
The crowd swallowed them almost immediately.
For a moment, the table watched them disappear into the lights.
Then Jean slowly looked toward Yixing.
Yixing was still staring at the dance floor.
Jean exchanged a glance with Bee.
Bee exchanged a glance with Oscar.
Oscar suddenly found his drink fascinating.
Nobody said a word, the silence alone was funny enough.
For the first minute or so, Storm looked completely out of his element.
Not awkward.
Just… cautious.
Dasom quickly noticed.
"Relax," she laughed.
"I'm relaxed."
"You look like you're conducting a business meeting."
Storm sighed.
"I haven't done this in years."
"That's tragic."
The music pulsed around them while the crowd continued to thicken.
Steam's dance floor was packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
People danced.
Laughed.
Sang along to songs.
And every few moments another group would squeeze past them.
The constant movement gradually pushed them closer together.
Storm instinctively gave her space.
Then more people squeezed through.
And more.
Soon enough there simply wasn't much room left between them.
Storm glanced down.
Dasom didn't appear uncomfortable.
Didn't appear embarrassed.
If anything, she looked completely at ease.
Her attention remained focused on dancing, occasionally laughing when someone nearby attempted something overly ambitious and failed spectacularly.
Eventually Storm relaxed.
His shoulders loosened.
His movements became more natural.
"See?" Dasom said victoriously.
"You can dance."
"I never said I couldn't."
"You implied it."
"I implied nothing."
"You absolutely implied it."
Storm laughed.
The sound was almost lost beneath the music.
For a while they simply enjoyed themselves.
No expectations.
No awkwardness.
Just dancing.
Talking.
Laughing.
The simplicity of it surprised both of them.
Back at the VIP table, Bee had become emotionally invested.
"Oh my God."
Jean nodded.
"I know."
"They actually look good together."
"They do."
Oscar took a sip of his drink.
"You've known him for twenty minutes."
"And?" Bee replied.
Jean pointed toward the dance floor.
"Our sample size is sufficient."
Oscar looked toward Asher.
"Help me."
Asher glanced down at the dance floor.
Then back at Oscar.
Then shrugged.
"They do look happy."
Oscar groaned.
"Not you too."
The entire table laughed.
Everyone except one person.
Yixing remained silent.
Not upset.
Not angry.
Just watching.
His gaze occasionally drifted toward the dance floor where Dasom's laughter seemed visible even from a distance.
Jean noticed immediately.
Unfortunately for Yixing, Jean was incapable of letting things go.
"Cousin."
Yixing didn't look away.
"What?"
"You look like you're analysing a hostile takeover."
Yixing finally turned.
"I am watching people dance."
"Right."
Bee immediately joined in.
"Very intensely."
Oscar hid his smile behind his glass.
Yixing looked at all three of them.
Then calmly took a sip of his whiskey.
"I preferred it when Jonathan was here."
The table erupted into laughter.
Even Asher nearly smiled.
Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the discussion occurring upstairs, Dasom was teaching Storm how to survive a nightclub dance floor.
And for perhaps the first time in years, Storm wasn't thinking about work.
Or responsibilities.
Or business.
He was simply enjoying the moment.
Which, as far as Dasom was concerned, was exactly what dancing was supposed to be for.
Storm and Dasom had grown considerably more comfortable with one another. The initial awkwardness had disappeared somewhere between shared laughter, old camp memories, and dancing.
The crowd continued to swell around them. At some point, almost naturally, Dasom turned so her back faced Storm while they danced.
Without hesitation or assumption, Storm's hand settled lightly at her waist to steady her amid the moving crowd.
The gesture felt respectful.
Dasom didn't seem to mind. If anything, she leaned into the rhythm of the music more freely. The lights flashed overhead while the bass pulsed through the floor beneath them.
Storm leaned closer so she could hear him over the music.
"You look amazing in that dress."
Dasom looked up at him in surprise before smiling brightly.
"Thank you!" she yelled back over the music.
For a while, they simply enjoyed themselves.
Dancing.
Laughing.
Talking whenever the music dipped enough for conversation.
Then the DJ switched genres. A heavy techno track blasted through the club.
The crowd immediately lost its mind, people surged toward the centre of the dance floor.
The energy shifted instantly.
What had been fun became chaotic.
There was more pushing, shoving and the crowd moved like waves.
Dasom frowned slightly. She looked back at Storm with an expression that clearly asked:
Can we leave?
Storm immediately understood. Without hesitation, he placed a secure arm around her waist and pulled her gently toward him. Then he began guiding them through the crowd.
The dance floor had become packed enough that walking normally was nearly impossible.
Several people bumped into them as they moved.
To Dasom's surprise, there came a moment when her feet weren't touching the ground.
Her eyes widened.
Storm had partially lifted her to keep her from being jostled by the crowd.
The movement was effortless.
Steady.
Protective.
By the time they reached the edge of the dance floor, he carefully set her back down.
Her heels touched the ground again. Dasom blinked up at him. "Did you just carry me?"
Storm looked mildly confused. "There wasn't room to walk, I didn't want to lose you in the crowd."
As though that perfectly explained everything.
Dasom laughed. "Storm Cupcake became Storm Strong."
He groaned immediately. "Please don't bring that nickname back."
"No promises." Before he could protest further, Dasom happily grabbed his hand again.
"Come on." She led him back toward the VIP section.
The moment their friends spotted them returning, several pairs of eyes immediately dropped to their still-joined hands.
Bee's smile widened.
Jean looked entertained.
Oscar calmly took a sip of his drink.
Yixing's expression remained unreadable.
Dasom, blissfully oblivious, reached the table. "Move over!" she announced cheerfully.
"Make room."
Her friends exchanged knowing glances.
The night, it seemed, was only getting more interesting.
The friend group went from six to seven just like that. It happened so naturally that no one even questioned it. By the time everyone settled back into their seats, Storm had somehow been absorbed into their circle.
Dasom now sat beside Yixing while Storm took the seat across from her.
A dangerous seating arrangement, according to Bee.
"Love triangles are my favourite genre," she whispered dramatically to Jean.
Jean nodded solemnly. "As are they mine."
Oscar pretended not to hear them.
Asher simply took a sip of his drink.
The group, naturally, was curious about Steam's owner. Questions immediately began flying.
"How many clubs do you own?"
"What's the weirdest thing you've seen at Steam?"
"Do celebrities actually request ridiculous things?"
Storm handled the sudden interrogation remarkably well. At one point Jean asked how he and Dasom had met.
For the briefest moment, Storm and Dasom exchanged a glance.
A silent agreement: Storm Cupcake would remain buried.
For now.
"We attended the same coding camp when we were younger," Dasom explained.
Storm nodded. "We were camp friends."
Technically true. Just not the whole truth.
The conversation continued easily after that.
Meanwhile, Dasom noticed something. Yixing had grown unusually quiet.
Really…
Quiet.
While everyone else focused on Storm, she leaned slightly toward him.
"Yixing," she said softly. "Are you enjoying your time?"
His gaze shifted to her immediately. Those dark chocolate eyes met her deep brown ones. And there it was again, that same look she'd caught at Jean's birthday banquet.
The one she still couldn't quite decipher.
There was interest, that much she knew. But beneath it seemed to be something else.
Something more difficult to name.
Something intense.
If she had to put words to it, she might have called it a strange blend of curiosity, focus, and a possessiveness she wasn't entirely sure if she was imagining it.
The club lights flickered across his features.
For a moment, the noise around them seemed to fade. Then Yixing answered quietly.
"Yeah." His voice was low enough that only she could hear it. "If you're having fun, then I am too."
The words were simple.
Yet somehow they landed with unexpected weight.
Dasom blinked and ber heart skipped strangely. Before she could think too deeply about it, Bee suddenly leaned across the table.
"Daisy."
Dasom looked over.
Bee's eyes sparkled mischievously. "So."
She glanced between Storm.
Then Yixing.
Then back to Dasom.
"We're all thinking it."
Jean immediately covered his face. "Oh no."
Oscar smiled into his drink again.
Asher looked upward as though praying for patience.
Bee grinned. "Which one of these men is your type?"
The table instantly erupted into chaos.
"Umm…" Dasom was immediately caught off guard. Her eyes darted from Bee to Storm.
From Storm to Yixing.
Then to literally anywhere else.
Oscar chuckled softly. "You really don't have to answer that."
Dasom looked at him gratefully. "Thank you."
Unfortunately, Bee immediately ruined any chance of escape.
"You absolutely do!" she exclaimed.
Jean raised his glass in support. "I vote you do."
Dasom looked horrified. "This is bullying."
"It's democracy," Jean corrected.
Asher sat quietly beside Bee, the corners of his lips tugging upward. He almost felt bad for Dasom.
Almost. But admittedly…
This was incredibly entertaining.
Bee leaned forward eagerly. "Come on. Hypothetically."
"I don't like where this is going."
"Hypothetically," Bee repeated. "Which one is more your type?"
Dasom stared at her.
Then at Storm.
Then at Yixing.
Then back at Bee.
"This feels like a trap."
"Because it is," Jean replied honestly.
Storm looked remarkably composed considering he was one half of the question.
Yixing looked equally calm.
Which somehow made it worse.
Dasom groaned and covered her face with both hands. "Why are you all like this?"
"Because we love you," Bee answered immediately.
"And because this is funny," Jean added.
"Mostly because it's funny," Bee corrected.
"You're so annoying." Dasom looked genuinely betrayed.
She turned toward Asher. "Car etingive me a hand?"
Asher met her gaze, then calmly took a sip of his drink.
"No, I'm not apart of this."
The table burst into laughter.
Dasom gasped. "Not you too!"
Asher finally smiled. "I've waited years to sit back and watch everyone else get interrogated."
"Traitor."
Bee clapped excitedly. "Answer the question!"
Dasom sighed dramatically, then pointed at the entire table.
"You people are why my therapist stays employed.
That earned another round of laughter.
Even Yixing's expression softened slightly.
And Storm—Storm was trying very hard not to smile.
Trying.
And failing.