IOTF Ch 6
by soapa“His dad’s a gigolo!”
“Someone saw his dad coming out of a motel with Jiyeon’s mom!”
A fight broke out in a corner of the slum. Young children, barely past their first few days of elementary school, surrounded me. A girl named Jiyeon picked up a rock and threw it. Her cheeks flushed, she hurled another and another, pelting me. With a strength unbelievable for a child, she struck my head and then my neck.
The children surrounding Jiyeon threw dirt at me. Someone pulled my hair and yelled, “You dirty, worse-than-a-stray-dog bastard! Die, homo!”
Where did they learn such words? Did they parrot them from my drunk day-laborer father? Or from Jiyeon’s mother, who ran a shady, windowless shop with a sign that read “Allurement”?
Later that day, I lay unconscious in the empty lot behind the park. I didn’t know how badly I was beaten or when I collapsed. I woke up in my grandmother’s arms. The pungent smell of hangover stew from the marketplace clung to her.
She didn’t ask why I was beaten or who did it. She gently laid me back down, thanking the owner of the corner store who had found me, over and over.
She was truly grateful, but I could feel her suppressing a scream of anguish. She was enduring it all for her grandson, abandoned by her own son. She placed her hand on my forehead – a warm hand, rough and cracked from years of toil, etched with deep wrinkles.
“I can’t just give you diving work for any price. It depends on who’s diving. And now it’s winter, no pro wants to go in the water.”
The voice on the phone paused. I opened my eyes to see the back of a man. A large hand covered my forehead and brow.
“Even with the Chinese technicians leaving, do you think there’s anyone else in Korea who knows this business like I do? We’ll make up for the reduced quota with other things. Tell him to be ready.”
The man slowly turned his head, still on the phone. He seemed to have noticed I was awake.
“Make sure there are no mistakes. If things are delayed in Qingdao, we’ll collect accordingly.”
He suddenly moved his large hand from my forehead and gently stroked my eyelashes. Seeming to enjoy the sensation of them fluttering beneath his palm, he did it a few more times before abruptly pulling his hand away.
“The kid’s awake. Send up two servings of something for hangover.”
The call ended, and the man fully turned to face me. I was still lying down, and all I could see beyond him was the clean ceiling and luxurious light fixture. The layout looked familiar, and I was about to speak when his large hand covered my forehead again.
“You look like you’re about to cry, but why are you awake?”
With my vision obscured, I asked, “…Where am I?”
“Where do you think you are?”
It seemed to be the hotel I had been to with Mr. Han. A decent tourist hotel, quite a distance from Queens.
“I don’t know…”
His hand moved from my eyes. His face, close to mine, was sharp, his hair slicked back with wax. A strong musk scent emanated from him.
“Why don’t you know? It’s the hotel where you fucked Mr. Han.”
“……!”
“That fucking bitch walked in all proud and soaked every sheet. Your dick must’ve been delicious; he was spraying everywhere.”
Chills ran down my spine. As I squeezed my eyes shut, he climbed onto the bed, his heavy body pressing down on me.
“What, am I wrong?”
My mind raced. How did he know all this? About the business card, the soldier, everything?
“Wh-who told you…?”
I could barely speak. He shifted his weight, wedging his leg between my thighs.
“Does that matter, Sunjung? Who told me, how I know?”
“…….”
“I’d rather you ask my name.”
He stared at the small mole under my eye. Though he’d seen it before, he examined it with a strange fascination.
“Or maybe you should ask how we got to this hotel.”
That, I was curious about. More than anything, I wanted to know my current state, the feeling of bare skin beneath the sheets, and how I lost my memory at the sauna.
“…How did we get here…?”
A knock interrupted me. He grinned, sat up, and walked to the door. After a brief exchange, he returned, pulling a silver cart.
“Get up and eat. You’re surprisingly light. Do you even eat?”
He began setting the table. Still dazed, I watched him, dressed in another flamboyant Versace shirt. This one depicted a white bird with outstretched wings and a radiant cathedral.
I sat up, my nakedness exposed. I glanced down at myself and muttered, “Just as I thought…”
I was completely naked. I had been naked before I blacked out, and I had been naked while grinding against this man. I seemed to have lost my memory at the moment of orgasm and been brought here to sleep it off.
“Sir, could I have some clothes?”
“Yeah. Come here.”
He finished setting the table before gesturing for me to join him. I didn’t want to walk over there naked under the bright hotel lights. I draped a sheet around myself and stood. His gaze raked over me.
“Sunjung, are you being shy?”
“…No, it’s just…”
“Don’t bother covering up with that junk when we’re alone.”
His tone was gentle, but his eyes were not. He looked annoyed, as if deprived of amusement. Hesitantly, I dropped the sheet. My long legs were revealed as I stood, and his lips finally curled into a smile.
He took in my slender calves, my moderately fleshy thighs, my flaccid penis and testicles, and chuckled. His gaze traveled up to my pubic hair, across my pelvis, lingered on my nipples, and finally met my eyes. He grinned.
With a masculine yet perfectly balanced smile, he reached out a hand, not in a wide embrace, but a casual gesture, like between lovers. A gesture I sometimes used with clients, now directed at me by a gangster, a club owner.
I took his hand. He pulled me closer and toyed with my messy hair.
“You slept like a baby. Peaceful, then frowning, then whimpering a little, then sound asleep again.”
“…….”
“Do all pretty boys sleep like flowers?”
I didn’t respond to his flower analogy. I glanced at the flowers in the vase on the table and asked for clothes. He opened the closet and pulled out a bathrobe.
The white robe hung loosely over my naked body. He tied it at my waist and led me back to the table, pulling out a chair for me. He gestured towards a steaming bowl of pufferfish soup.
“…Aren’t you eating?”
“I’ll watch you eat first.”
My name wasn’t Sunjung. But after days of being called that, I felt like Sunjung. I wasn’t sentimental; I didn’t even know what sentimentality was. What was this man’s motive? He likely knew my real name, yet he insisted on calling me Sunjung.
He claimed the mere sight of my face made his dick hard and brought him to tears. I had never met a man like this.
He crossed his legs, fully dressed for work in suit pants and an expensive watch. A thick wallet and a second phone sat beside him on the table.
“Is it good?”
I nodded, swallowing my first meal in almost a day.
“I gave you an IV for dehydration, so don’t be surprised by the mark.”
I instinctively glanced at my arm. He clicked his tongue and offered an uncharacteristic explanation.
“I don’t drug my things. So don’t get any ideas and just eat.”
I hadn’t said anything, but he flicked my nose in annoyance. These little touches seemed to be a habit. He gestured towards my bowl again.
“So how did we get here?”
“I carried you like a princess.”
Like… a princess.
“You slept so sweetly, like a princess pulled from the water. I’ve never seen anyone pass out so prettily.”
He uncrossed his legs, propped an elbow on the table, and gave me a mischievous look. I had learned by now that this meant he was in a good mood.
A sly, almost weak smile seemed to be his way of expressing amusement, like a thug trying to hide his glee.
“Never seen it before, I tell you.”
So what? I didn’t care about impressing him.
“I even hummed a tune while carrying a damn hustler out of a bathhouse.”
The food caught in my throat. The image of him humming while carrying my naked body out of the sauna made me want to die.
“Isn’t that funny?”
“…….”
“A club owner played for a fool by a hustler.”
He grinned, flashing his even teeth. He suddenly pinched my cheek and pulled. Rice grains tumbled from my forced-open lips. He watched with narrowed eyes.
“So fucking hot.”
“……!”
“Why are you always hottest when you’re spilling something?”
It was disgusting and disturbing. I almost dropped my spoon, but his next words stopped me.
“The first time I saw you, you descended like a snowflake, all wet lips and seduction. Sunjung, are you running a scam?”
I choked, spraying half-chewed food across the table, his hand, and his fingers. He just laughed.
Then, as if a thought struck him, he stared at my face, now smeared with spit and soup, and clicked his tongue.
“Shit, I have to go.”
He wiped his hand on the table and grabbed his wallet.
“Come here.”
He patted his thigh, inviting me to sit on his lap, like at the sauna. When I hesitated, he pulled his chair back, creating space for me.
I reluctantly sat down and immediately understood why he had said, “Shit, I have to go.”
I felt his thick erection against me. I flinched, but he ignored it, opening his wallet and offering it to me.
“Take as much as you want.”
A cascade of yellow and blue banknotes. One edge of the wallet was stuffed with white checks. I hadn’t seen this much cash in a long time.
“Why, are you giving it all to me?”
My eyes widened in avarice. But I knew there would be a price. I cautiously picked out a few fifty-thousand won notes.
It looked like a few hundred thousand won. He chuckled.
“Think that’s enough?”
He suddenly pulled out more than half the remaining cash and pressed it into my hand. It was so much I couldn’t estimate the amount. His words barely registered.
“Our Sunjung doesn’t even know the basics of a scam.”
“…….”
“You row when the wallet’s open.”
The weight of the money was substantial. There were checks mixed in. Few clients had ever given me this much cash so readily, especially while sober. Not even the Gangnam landlady.
“…Are you really giving me this?”
“Yeah. It’s all yours, Sunjung.”
He stroked my hair, his erection still pressing against me, but he made no other moves. He just held me there, tilting his head to study my face. Did he really like my face this much? His phone rang. He glanced at the screen and ignored it.
“Finish eating. I’ll send Baekil up around eleven.”
“What about my clothes and phone…?”
“Yeah, Baekil will bring them.”
That meant I had to stay here until 11. It was probably around 9 pm. I had to get to Queens.
“I have to go to work.”
“Take the day off.”
I realized it was the day the client who took my virginity was supposed to come.
“I need to at least call the manager…”
“Don’t worry about it. Just rest.”
His phone stopped ringing. He pocketed his thinned-out wallet and his two phones and headed for the door. I watched him, dumbfounded, and he turned, his handsome face breaking into a smile.
“Why, don’t you want me to leave?”
I shook my head firmly.
“But you look like you’re telling me not to go.”
Absolutely not.
I didn’t answer. He chuckled and opened the door. As soon as it clicked shut, I returned to my chair.
I sighed and was about to put the money on the table when I noticed something sticking out from under my bowl.
A rectangular purple card.
I lifted the bowl and stared at it.
[SO MUCH Han Bora]
It was the business card the madam had given me, the one I’d thrown in the trash before leaving the hotel. I had thrown it away myself. How did it end up under my bowl? Was he really that angry about the scouting attempt?
Or was he trying to show me that I was powerless? Was this his way of proving he was superior, more powerful than her?
A chill ran down my spine, and a knot formed in my stomach. I wanted to confront him, to demand to know where he got it, but I already knew. He could get anything he wanted. He knew about Mr. Han, the hotel, the soldier. If he wanted to know something, he would find out.
Just as he’d said, this was his territory.
˚｡⋆
I had no phone, nothing to do. I had planned to call the number Jaehoon gave me after leaving the sauna, but now I was stuck in this hotel room, staring blankly at the Yeonsan night sea.
I watched the illuminated cruise ships drifting across the water. A knock startled me. I jumped up and flung the door open without asking who it was. Kalbbang, also known as Baekil, stood there. He strode in and placed a suitcase on the bed.
“Are those my clothes?”
“If they’re for you to wear, they must be yours.”
He set down a shopping bag with an expensive brand logo, one of my favorites.
“What’s this?”
“He said to dress you in a set.”
“Huh?”
“Call me when you’re dressed.”
He closed the door and left. Confused, I unzipped the suitcase. Instead of my hoodie and joggers, a cream-colored suit hung inside.
I was speechless. It was a silk shirt and a limited-edition Tom Ford suit. The sheen, the cut, the stitching, everything was impeccable. Even in Seoul, a suit of this quality would command a hefty premium.
I was stunned. What did this mean? The suit he wore the first time we met was also cream-colored. The style and color were similar to what he had sent up now.
I opened the shopping bag and pulled out a shoebox. Inside were a pair of beautifully crafted brown derby shoes.
The shoes were the final straw. Why not just return my phone and clothes? What was the point of all this? I opened the hotel room door.
“What is all this?”
Kalbbang, standing guard outside, replied indifferently, “Isn’t it obvious? He wants you to wear them.”
“But why?”
“Don’t ask me. Ask him yourself.”
He pushed the door closed with his gloved hand, leaving me alone again. I stared at the suit and shoes, a thought forming in my mind.
Was he planning to have me show up at Versace? He had said he’d talk to the manager and told me not to worry. Last night, he’d told me to just show up and get my stamp. He had come to the sauna because of the business card.
He was worried that his chosen ace would be scouted by another club less than a week into the job.
I remembered his words from earlier that morning:
“We’re down two guys in the three-top rotation. Sunjung, you go there and clean up the territory. You’ve got the temper to pull the hair of the ace there, don’t you?”
It all clicked into place. The signing bonus, the suit, the shoes – it felt like I really had become the ace.
Already well-versed in the allure of materialism and capitalism, I picked up the suit. I shed the bathrobe and admired the luxurious fabric. I slipped my arms into the crisp shirt and buttoned it up.
I excitedly put on the suit, enjoying the sharp, luxurious feel I hadn’t experienced in a while. I slipped on the muted-tone socks that came with it and let out a small sigh as I slid my feet into the shoes.
Damn, I was a sucker for the smell of money.
When the knock came again, I was almost finished getting ready. I’d polished my face with the hotel’s skin and lotion and roughly styled my hair. I planned to go to the salon for makeup anyway, so I just brushed back my curls and opened the door. A dazzlingly flamboyant shirt filled my vision.
The same white bird design from earlier, wings spread in flight, was right in front of me, on the boss’s chest.
“Going somewhere?”
He looked down at me, hands in his pockets. He must have been a little surprised that I’d opened the door without a second knock.
“No, you told me to get ready.”
He observed me in the suit he’d sent. His gaze lingered on the unbuttoned shirt and the exposed skin of my collarbone before he chuckled.
“Eager to get out?”
“If I have to go to work anyway, might as well do it sooner than later.”
I figured I’d be better off at Queens, but I was curious about Versace in Namgudong. It was a supposedly successful place in Yeonsan, so I could check it out and decide later.
“I can get my hair done at the salon. If we leave now, I can start working today.”
“You could’ve refused.”
“Huh?”
“You could’ve said you didn’t want to wear it, that you wanted your own clothes back.”
What was this, some kind of game? But he wasn’t smirking or acting cocky. He just raised a dark eyebrow and continued to stare at my collarbone.
“What did you put on your chest?”
Without looking down, I answered, “Just the lotion from the hotel.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
Because I wanted to look good. Because that was all a host, a drink-pouring, body-selling hustler, could do.
“Too bad.”
He stepped into the room, his expression displeased as he noticed the empty shoebox and suitcase neatly put away.
“I imagined you spitting on it.”
“Huh?”
“Spitting on your tie was quite entertaining.”
He stared intently at me, an almost predatory look in his eyes. I wondered why, and then he smiled. He sauntered over, hands in his pockets, his gaze on my waist, cinched by the silk shirt.
“Do you like the clothes?”
“Yes. They fit perfectly.”
“The shoes?”
“I like the shoes too.”
“Me?”
I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak. He laughed, his slicked-back hair shifting slightly, and pulled me closer.
“You have to answer properly. I went through a lot of trouble to get these for you.”
So, he had gone through trouble for the clothes, too? He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. He nuzzled against me, shifting his weight, and I suddenly remembered where I’d seen this before.
It was what I had done to Mr. Han that night, clinging to him from behind as he paid. Now the boss was playing my role, and I was Mr. Han.
“So, where does Sunjung want to go?”
I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what his game was, but it bothered me.
“Versace, or stay in the same building as me?”
“…Queens.”
“Why? You said you wanted to go to Versace.”
I didn’t want to go; I was supposed to go.
“Since I’ve already made an appearance here, I thought it would be better to secure some regulars. It’s also quite complicated over there…”
“Are you saying you don’t want to be tainted by Yakuza dust?”
No, that wasn’t it. But I caught his reflection in the window. Against the backdrop of the dark sea, his face resting on my shoulder looked surprisingly cold.
His smile wasn’t languid, but sharp and almost cruel. His raised eyebrow held not just coolness, but a hidden anger.
A strange fear crept over me. I almost turned and asked him, defiantly, why he was looking at me like that.
“That’s not it…”
“It’s okay. You can think that. Japanese guys are perverts; they like to shove their fists up men’s asses and giggle about it.”
The back of my neck prickled. Memories of what happened with him, combined with the stories I’d heard in the host waiting room, swirled in my head. I glanced at his hand on my waist and asked hesitantly, “Did the aces there really cause trouble?”
“Ah, Mubin and Ddori.”
He walked towards the window, still holding me.
“They were close. Mubin would be top one month, then Ddori the next. Sometimes they’d tie. They were raking in all the money in Yeonsan.”
He turned me around and sat me on the low windowsill.
“But one of them picked up something strange. He started playing with a chick with tits.”
“…….”
“They were happily fucking this guy’s ass. Then they got caught with a porn star who had a contract with the Yakuza. Fucking is fine, but the problem is, the actor suddenly overdosed and died.”
He raised his eyebrows, a crease forming on his smooth forehead. He seemed to be watching my reaction to the news of the overdose, his gaze cold.
“He started foaming at the mouth and died right there. My guys swore they never touched drugs, but Santa Candy was pouring out of the actor’s bag. What else could it be but a drug-fueled orgy? And he’d shared the stolen Santa Candy with some of my other hosts. So the Japanese came after me, demanding payment for the drugs.”
He said dismissively, “Like it’s my fault they couldn’t manage their own actor. Right?” I couldn’t speak. The mere mention of drugs made me shudder.
“S-Santa Candy or whatever, I don’t like it.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to be involved with that stuff. I don’t even want to see it.”
He raised his eyebrows again.
“Really?”
“Yes. So I’ll just go to work at Queens. I’ll work hard until that ace, Hyun, arrives.”
My heart pounded. My lips were dry, and I could barely speak.
“You said you liked Versace.”
“No. I hate drugs.”
Had I overreacted? He slowly turned his head to look at me.
“I’ve seen a lot of people ruined by drugs. A lot of people around me did them.”
“Ah, our Sunjung is clean?”
“It’s not that, I just don’t have money for drugs, and they’re not my thing.”
Drugs were disgusting. I had never even seen them, but I wanted nothing to do with them.
My firm stance made him smile. He pulled me closer, the scent of mint emanating from him.
“Our Sunjung is perfect. Amazingly perfect.”
I didn’t ask what he meant by perfect. It seemed he wouldn’t send me to Namgudong after all. I’d made the right choice.
He didn’t speak further. We left the hotel and got into the sedan. Kalbbang sat in the driver’s seat, wearing leather gloves.
We drove past the bright lights and neon signs. I wondered if we were going to the dried pollack factory area when the car suddenly changed direction. I looked around, confused, as loud music and bright lights appeared in the distance.
A brightly lit sign read “Yeonsanchu Beach.” Food trucks and stalls lined the street. Young people milled about, tourists snapped photos, and touts shouted, handing out flyers.
“This is…”
“Namgudong. With the beach, it never closes, not even for a day.”
Even I, accustomed to nightlife, was taken aback. The tall buildings and flashy signs were almost blinding. Nightclubs and karaoke bars competed for attention with their dazzling displays. It was as vibrant as Haeundae in Busan.
“Yeonsan used to be famous for dried pollack, but then the factories closed down. They built pensions in their place and started making money. After the Sky Garden was built on the coastal path beyond Yeonsanchu Beach, tourists started flocking in. People headed for Busan started coming here, and it became a must-see spot. The nightlife blossomed.”
He pointed to a tall building packed with bars, clubs, and karaoke rooms.
“How many of my businesses do you think are in there?”
He lowered the car window. The wind carried a sweet, sticky, and money-scented fragrance, unlike the fishy smell at Queens.
“How many are there?”
He chuckled and lit a cigarette. I couldn’t take my eyes off the building. Someone suddenly approached the car.
“Hey, looking for a good time? Beer is half-price at our place tonight. Come on in!”
A tout. The guy with bleached hair noticed me and latched on.
“Wow, you’re really handsome. I’ll give you free drinks! Let’s go to my place!”
I was about to tell him off when he recoiled, recognizing the boss beside me. He scurried away, yelling, “Sorry!” Probably a tout from a rival business.
“It’s pretty competitive here too.”
“I told you not to underestimate it.”
Had he said that? I pulled back from the window. The car pulled into a building’s parking garage.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you like.”
“Huh?”
I followed him out of the car and into the elevator. Kalbbang pressed a button. We stopped on the 8th floor.
The doors opened to the scent of air freshener and a nude female statue. The statue emphasized large breasts, the paint worn off and shiny where people had touched it.
“Welcome!”
A waiter greeted us, and the boss chose a room. We followed the waiter into a luxurious-looking bar. I finally realized where we were.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Hennessy.”
We entered a private room. The plush couches and sparkling crystal glasses on the table were far more upscale than Queens.
“Make yourself comfortable.”
He sat in the middle of the sofa. I wasn’t sure if I should sit right next to him, but he didn’t seem to care, so I sat a little apart. He lit another cigarette.
“This place is…”
“It belonged to Park’s wife. Mr. Han took it over and completely renovated it. It’s known for its good drinks.”
Another one of Mr. Han’s places. He had brought me to one of his rival’s establishments.
I was thinking about the business card he’d left at the hotel when the waiter brought in the drinks, along with a fruit platter and an ice bucket. I picked up the bottle of Hennessy and checked the label out of habit. It was genuine. I was about to open it when he spoke.
“Bring them in.”
The waiter immediately left. As I reached for the bottle again, he gave me a sideways glance.
“Sunjung, relax.”
“Huh?”
“I brought you here to have fun.”
I didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t have possibly brought me here for my enjoyment.
“Baekil, come sit down.”
As if to prove his words, he called Kalbbang over and had him sit. Then, women entered. He barely glanced at them before choosing a few. He placed them beside Kalbbang and me, flanking himself with two more.
We clinked glasses as they poured us drinks. Kalbbang chuckled, exchanging crude jokes with the boss.
I watched him drinking, flanked by women, then looked away.
What was the meaning of this?
He couldn’t have brought me here for my sake, and it wasn’t to warn Mr. Han, since I’d already rejected her offer. The door opened, and a glamorous woman clicked her heels as she entered. She spotted the boss and then me, surrounded by women, and frowned.
“Mr. Joo, what brings you here without a call?”
It was Mr. Han. She smoothed her frown and crossed the room towards us.
“Just thinking about you, Mr. Han.”
“Oh, why would you suddenly think of me? After making fun of me for being a Yeonsan country bumpkin.”
She sat beside him and poured herself a drink.
“I begged you for a club, and you wouldn’t even blink. Has Han Bora finally caught your eye?”
“You are a country bumpkin, Han Bora. I can still smell the seaweed on you.”
She narrowed her eyes and slapped his arm.
“Yeah, I’m a dried-fish seller’s daughter! What are you gonna do about it, boy?”
They seemed closer than I’d thought, a sense of familiarity beneath the playful banter.
“And you, what were you doing, beating people up since you were a kid? Do you know how much grief you caused Aunt Mija? She drowned her sorrows in soju and suffered in silence because of you!”
“Soju, my ass.”
“Don’t deny it. You stabbed someone in middle school and left him crippled, cracked open a teacher’s head… You caused so much trouble that your parents had to send you all the way to China with that fake study abroad excuse!”
Her thick dialect revealed glimpses of his past. Troublemaker since childhood, causing grief, fleeing to China after a stabbing incident. It wasn’t that surprising. A man like him wouldn’t have been a quiet student. He probably stabbed that person like he killed rats.
“Our Mr. Han is quite talkative today.”
“Did I say anything wrong?”
They exchanged drinks, acting like close siblings. The harsh treatment I’d received over a business card seemed like a distant memory.
I watched him play this game of pretend. He’d dressed me up and brought me to a rival’s establishment as a warning. A message to Mr. Han – hands off, he’s mine now. Don’t push it, or there will be consequences.
Understanding his motives, I finally tasted the alcohol. I accepted the snacks offered by the women, enjoying their soft touches. He’d said he brought me here for fun, so this must be a one-time thing. I was about to put my arm around one of the women when the atmosphere suddenly shifted.
Kalbbang’s face, with its menacing scar, was the first thing I saw. He twitched his lips. Then I saw the boss watching me intently.
Time seemed to freeze as Kalbbang, the boss, and even Han Bora stared at me. Then Han Bora spoke, a little too quickly.
“Our Sunjung is something else. He’s much better than Hyun. Where did you find such a gem, oppa?”
The boss finally spoke.
“Did you enjoy the taste?”
“Oh, more than enjoyable. He was so sweet, I sucked and licked him until I thought I’d die from the sweetness!”
I burst out laughing at her crude words and lowered my arm. I downed the rest of my drink, and his voice reached me through the haze of cigarette smoke.
“I’m proud to hear my Sunjung’s dick tastes good.”
“Of course you should be proud! I was so smitten I even gave him my business card.”
I flinched at her words, but he calmly accepted the drink she poured him.
“But looking at him now, he’s definitely your type. I won’t give him my card again.”
She understood his warning perfectly and began ordering more drinks, all expensive ones, as if to apologize.
It was my first time in a room salon in a while, and the alcohol flowed easily. It didn’t hit me as hard as when I drank at the host bar. How much had I drunk? Han Bora belted out a song and left.
The other women followed suit. The hands that had been exploring my body disappeared. I was left alone with Kalbbang and the boss.
“Sunjung, did you have fun?”
I turned to him, my shirt disheveled. He looked perfectly sober, despite having drunk much more than me.
“Uh, yes, yes. Thank you, sir.”
“For what?”
“Uh… for bringing me here, buying me drinks…”
He chuckled and stared at me, then nodded at Baekil, who rose from the sofa, looking as if he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.
“Uh, where are you going?”
“Home, Sunjung.”
What? I felt like the only one who’d been drinking. Both of them looked completely fine. They’d each finished at least two bottles of liquor. Why was I the only one affected?
“Did you drink too much?”
“Uh, no. I can sober up quickly.”