A/n: Didn't have time to edit this, sorry for mistakes. Feel free to correct them! My apologies :)

༄ "SAMMY," a whisper blowing air onto her skin, causing a ticklish feeling. She groaned.

"Sammyyy."

"Minho," she whimpered, attempting to elbow him away. "I'd like to sleep."

"But Thomas is spamming both of our phones. He claims he made pancakes—"

Her eyes shot wide open at that.

"—and that they burned—"

She groaned.

"—but that Fry made new ones, and that we should come eat them before Gally goes in garbage bag mode."

"Garbage bag mode?" With another groan, Sam turned around. Sleeping in Minho's arms had been way too comfortable, and pancakes were just the bare minimum to get her out of bed.

He planted kisses all over her face. "Did you know you snore?"

"I don't snore."

"Okay, fine. You don't," he admitted. "But did you know you were moaning my name?"

"I wasn't moaning your name, Minho."

"Man, why aren't you as gullible as Thomas?" He sighed, Sam smiled.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she could see his morning face. After waking up close to him multiple times, this was the first time she allowed herself to admire his sleepy eyes, messy hair, and whispers where his morning voice sometimes broke through.

❤︎︎

She lend his clothes again, including undergarments. That had been quite a struggle, since the ones she had been wearing the night before were still wet from showering, and Minho obviously didn't own a bra. So she wore a tighter shirt under his sweater, and decided to change once they arrived at Thomas's.

"Took y'all long enough!" Thomas opened the door. "By the way, the pancakes are already gone now. It's four PM!"

That was because after they got ready, they baked pancakes for themselves, ended up on the couch with a movie on, and almost fell asleep again.

Then, a grin grew on Thomas's face. He raised his eyebrows at Sam, who shook her head heavily. "Ah, come on! Details?"

"We didn't do anything," she whisper-yelled after Minho disappeared inside. "Why does everyone keep thinking that?"

"I don't even know." Thomas shrugged and closed the door behind them. "Come on! We're pre drinking already."

Her eyebrows shot up. "We're gonna club?"

"What else would we do on a Saturday night?" He scoffed, pulling her inside the kitchen, where everyone stood with drinks in their hands and shots on the table.

Last time Sam went clubbing, she made out with Minho drunkly... hm.

After she changed into different clothes, Sam got a drink pushed in her hands and didn't bother drinking it, then noticed Minho wasn't doing much, so handed him a cup too. "Here."

He put it down on the counter. "I don't drink."

"Yes, you do. I've seen you drink," she said. "I mean, you don't have to drink, but—"

"At least one has to stay sober." The corners of his lips moved up just a little. "And it looks like Newt took a day off."

She turned around just to see the blonde throw a shot in his mouth. When he walked closer to Thomas, she turned back to Minho. "I'll stay sober with you."

He laughed. Bright and audible, which her body tingled at. "You don't have to do that, Sammy. I'd much rather take care of you... and everyone else. It's an unspoken rule here."

"Fine." She leaned against the wall, taking a few more sips of the alcohol.

Honestly, the unspoken rule was a good one.

"Why'd you say you don't drink, though? You do drink."

"But barely," he added.

She chuckled. "Funny that when I first met you, you were drunk."

"I wasn't."

Sam almost choked on her drink.
"I mean in the club," she added.

"I know. And I also know that I wasn't drunk." He stuck his hands in his pockets, a bit of a smirk on his face. "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yeah, it is. A girl walks over to you and suggests to make out? And you agree? You must've been drunk."

"First of all, I liked your sassiness. Then you also happened to be very beautiful, so yes, I agreed."

Her eyes stood wide open. "Damn."

"Offensive that you were drunk," but he was smiling as he said it. "So that's why I did recognize you, but you didn't recognize me."

"Wow." She let go of a breath, then finished her drink. "Well, if you happen to find another sassy, beautiful woman, maybe not kiss them."

❤︎︎

Lights blinded Sam in the first minutes. Drinks were being sold, people danced, kissed in corners, or walked out of the bathroom with fresh makeup.

The ceiling hung full of paper decorations, some still belonged to the Christmas holidays, others just random paper lanterns.

Laughing, she danced close to Teresa and Thomas, who drank just as much as her, and were, just like her, still holding more alcohol inside the club.

It had been a long time since she was drunk, and it was amazing. Except... "Ew, I did not just see Jeff hit on a girl." She averted her eyes, which met Brenda's. "Oh, hey!"

"Hi!" She screamed through the loud music. "You alright?"

"Never better! You?"

"Never better!"

They bursted out into unnecessary giggles.

"Honestly," Sam started. "...I don't even know!"

They continued dancing. In the middle of that, Sam bumped into Newt, who's drink spilled all over her.

She gasped. Looked down as Newt apologized. Her shirt was completely soaked in whatever pink had been in his cup. "Don't worry! It looks like a city or something!"

He tilted his head. "Nooo! A dog, if you look from this angle."

She laughed, and he did too, his eyes twinkling from the fire— fire?

Once they both turned around, they had sight on the sparkles people held in their hands, swinging with it.

Sam and Newt watched their eyes out. Their smiles grew bigger. It was undeniably beautiful to watch, even though it were just sparkles.

"You think we can get those somewhere?" Newt asked through the noise. It was so crowded in the club that they could barely see anything else than the people.

"I don't know! I hope!" She looked around, happiness evolving a warmth inside her body. "We could look?"

"Sure!" He nodded. "Come on!"

Stumbling a bit as they walked, the duo walked all the way to the back of the club, next to the bar. It was less crowded there, and it felt like they were finally able to breathe.

Someone indeed was handing out the sparkles.

Sam sniffed a few times. Shook her head, and wiped her nose. "How much are they?"

"Just a dollar!" Newt touched his nose too. "Hey, do you smell that?"

"Yeah— it's like... I don't even know!" She drank one of the shots the bartender put down.

"It's fire," Newt realized. Slowly, a frown formed on his face, and he turned around. "Uh... Sam?"

She blinked, unable to see what he was looking at. "Yeah?"

He stepped back, eyes wide. "Oh, fuck. Shit. Sam, come on— we've got to—"

"What's going on?"

"Just look!" Roughly, the blonde pointed into the distance, where the paper decorations on the ceiling caught fire. The flames spread so fast that in a second, it already moved a feet closer to them. And another feet, and another feet.

Her blood ran cold.

Not much people seemed to notice it. They were dancing and having fun, and it only got more crowded, the floor barely visible by all the people.

"Come on." Newt grabbed her arm and started pulling them through the people, yelling for their friends. The fire above them was heating up, and Sam cried out in fear.

Stuck in a very crowded place while the ceiling was on fire and it was almost impossible to reach the exit.

Once more people started to notice the burning ceiling, it only got harder for Sam and Newt to find the others or walk further.

Screams and yells and warnings around them. People bumping into her, and nearly making her trip if Newt hadn't held her.

His face was full of panic. His eyebrows were furrowed, forehead tense and jaw clenched so hard that his eyes were the only thing that allowed his fear to show.

"Thomas!" Helpless, the boy searched for him, but there wasn't much result.

Sam seemed to be in shock. She had no idea what to do. As if her mind went blank, she followed Newt. Smoke made her eyes tear up, and she had a harder time seeing through the room because of it. The yells hurt her ears, and it was so stiff and smelly inside, she almost couldn't breathe.

The exit was exploding with people trying to fit through the doors all at once. Sam almost tripped over her own feet and was pretty sure she sometimes stepped on people who had already fallen, but she didn't have time to apologize.

She coughed and choked on smoke. A burning decoration gave up on the ceiling and landed on her arm for a split second. But with the adrenaline, she didn't feel the burn at all.

"Newt!" Another desperate cry. Her lungs no longer existed out of air. Just... the grayness of the smoke, and her vision was full of dust. The blonde moved so fast that eventually, their hands slipped and the panicked crowd apart them.

Sam let out another cry. Maybe that was it.

Yeah, she'd die on a Saturday night, in a club because sparkles made the ceiling burn, and smoke made her suffocate.

"Sam!" She didn't recognize Minho immediately, but he was there, wrapping his arm around her so they could make their way out of the club as fast as possible.

She coughed again, tears streaming down her cheeks from both fright and the smoke. The horrible, thick smoke. It flew through the club and forced itself to morph into every part of air, so that would vanish.

"Come on!" He stopped her from falling to the ground by someone on their heels, and for their own sake, elbowed whoever had come so close away. With some grunts and pushes, Minho got them through the exit, and only stopped walking when they were far away from the club.

Sam gasped for air. She felt the fresh oxygen replace some of the smoke, and coughed again.

"Newt!" Minho's yell.

None of her senses seemed to work anymore. She could hear and see, but her brain couldn't connect what she was hearing and seeing. She could smell the fire and smoke, but that was it. Terror. Just pure terror in her mind.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Thomas assured Newt. "Fry, Tes, and I got out safely. Fry got some burns, but he'll be fine."

"Sonya!" Newt ran over to his sister and hugged her tighter than ever before, tears spilling from his eyes too.

But the girl wasn't able to hug back. She wasn't hurt either, but just like Sam, she was shocked. Or actually, in shock.

"Where are Gally, Alby, Brenda, Harriet, and Jeff?" Minho worried, wandering around before he looked at Sam and cupped her face. "Hey, Sammy. It'll be alright." A long pause. "Can you hear me? Sam?"

She blinked at the fire behind him. The club was almost burned to the ground and the firemen just arrived. She felt... dizzy, and confused.

Minho stared at her pale skin. Beads of sweat dropped down her forehead, which was cold.

"Where's Jeff when we need him?" He murmured, truly not knowing what was going on. Jeff would know. He was from the medical things.

"Thomas!" Brenda's cry made most of them spun around. She had an arm wrapped around Alby. Half of his shirt was gone. Burned away, and he was groaning from wounds on his chest and stomach.

"I'm fine," he assured. Brenda sat him down on the ground. "Just a few burns."

"He got the bartender's son out," Brenda added, breathless.

Then finally, Gally, Harriet, and Jeff came running toward their friends, all with a few burns, but nothing permanently hurtful.

"Sam." He hugged his sister. She was slowly regaining her senses by watching firemen spat water onto the burning club.

"What's going on with her? And Sonya?"

Jeff stared at the girls for a few seconds. "They're in shock. Nothing too bad. Just sit them down."