“……”
“Oh. Or is it not just hauling drinks?”
Rather than anger flaring at the openly sneering tone, Ihyeon felt his head cool down instead. Without answering, he closed his eyes. Letting the red lights seeping in through his lashes wash past, he calculated how many hours of sleep he could squeeze in before his next shift.
“If that won’t work because you’re a gay bastard, what about the one next to her.”
Which motel near the club had been the least bad again. Just as he was mentally retracing the nearby streets, the thought cut off short. Gay bastard. At the word tossed out so carelessly, his lips dried all over again.
When he slowly lifted his lids, Gu Seunghyeok came into view, exhaling smoke as he watched beyond the glass wall. He looked more relaxed than before, one leg propped up on the table, the toe of his dress shoe bouncing lazily. Catching Ihyeon’s gaze, he jerked his chin toward the scene beyond the glass.
“Think the guy in front of that girl was some minister’s youngest son or something.”
“……”
“Ah…. But Ihyeon, no matter what, that side’s a no-go for me. Weak stomach.”
“……”
“Why don’t you try it with a woman, while you’re at it?”
Seunghyeok twisted his head to look at Ihyeon, then straightened up with a grin. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and spoke with his words leaking around it.
“When we throw parties on this side, it’s normal for the assholes who want in to pay. But if the headcount doesn’t line up, sometimes we shove some money their way and bring them in.”
From the inside pocket of his jacket came a black leather wallet. Raising one eyebrow, Seunghyeok pulled several white checks from the bill compartment.
“How about… this much?”
“……”
“To keep them quiet, you’ve got to give them a bit more than what they’d get at a shop.”
What fluttered down onto the table from Seunghyeok’s hand were three checks marked one million won each. At the casual flick, like tossing down napkins, Ihyeon smiled for the first time since coming in here. Or rather than a smile, it was closer to a sound of air leaking out.
“What. Not enough?”
“……”
“Ah…. Playing hard to get.”
At Ihyeon’s lack of response, Seunghyeok dropped the ends of his brows theatrically, scoffed in mockery, and added two more checks. He placed them atop the others, then set the untouched whiskey glass on top like a paperweight.
“I’ll give you experience with women, and I’ll give you money.”
“……”
“I’m this nice even to someone who stabbed me in the back like that.”
Tilting his head crookedly, Seunghyeok let out a small, derisive laugh.
“Where else would you find a friend like this. Right?”
Why does everyone want to give me money today.
Subin, telling him to quit his job and offering him an allowance. That high school classmate he’d run into after years.
How much room do they have, to talk like they’re tossing alms.
A self-mocking smile tugged at Ihyeon. He lifted his wrist, eyes leaving the table to check the time. The sharp, thin hands pointed to an hour past his shift’s end.
Five one-million-won checks lay neatly under the glass. The reason he could turn away from several months’ worth of wages without hesitation was probably because he knew exactly how filthy that money was.
“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going. Boss.”
“……”
The ending was firm, like someone drawing a clear line at the word friend. Even the scrupulously polite speech made it obvious. Seunghyeok, eyes lowered as he absentmindedly opened and closed his wallet, caught the meaning and snorted.
“That not enough too?”
“No.”
Ihyeon spoke with a pale face that gave nothing away.
“My shift is over.”
He dipped his head briefly and, without hesitation, started toward the door. Behind him, Taesik quickly checked Seunghyeok’s expression. But the picture-perfect face staring beyond the glass wall showed nothing at all.
As Taesik weighed whether he should stop Ihyeon or let him go, Seunghyeok spoke.
“Kwon Ihyeon.”
“……”
“Do you remember the last thing I said to you nine years ago?”
What flashed through Ihyeon’s mind were only dim images—dark parks, filthy alleys, snow falling on empty streets. The past nine years hadn’t been generous enough to preserve memories with any color.
At Seunghyeok’s words, Ihyeon paused for a moment and ran his tongue once over his lips. Judging by the face staring straight ahead without expression, it didn’t seem like he was expecting an answer. Ihyeon lowered his eyes in silence, then turned the handle and opened the door. Taesik watched his back as he stepped into the corridor, unease plain in his eyes.
On the transparent glass wall, the door opening and closing reflected like a mirror. Watching it quietly, Seunghyeok slowly turned his head back toward the table.
In front of the empty sofa sat the whiskey glass, all alone, with five white slips of paper beneath it. What kind of expression had Kwon Ihyeon been wearing when he left those behind.
Staring at the vacant spot, Seunghyeok let out a sneer and stood. He reached out and picked up the whiskey glass Ihyeon had left.
“Tch…. Told you it was expensive.”
He drained it in one go and spoke as if unfazed, but something between anger and revulsion churned in his gut. He’d thought something cold might help, yet his chest only burned hotter.
He shook the cigarette case into his hand, but it was empty. When he extended his palm back, Taesik swiftly placed a fresh one there. Swallowing the comment about how much his smoking had picked up lately, Taesik held the lighter up to Seunghyeok’s face.
Thin smoke rose like a thread from the tip, stretching before it scattered. Seunghyeok leaned his stiff neck back and exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.
How long had it been like that. When his gaze finally dropped to sweep the hall, he spotted a man staggering in a corner and froze mid-flick of ash. Each time the half-lidded eyes wavered, long jet-black hair swayed softly.
Whether he’d taken drugs and gone into the water, the skin showing beneath his soaked clothes was pale. The white face of someone who’d been here just moments ago came unbidden to mind. The strange sensation lingering at his throat instantly curdled into unpleasant disgust. Seunghyeok’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he scraped his tongue along the inside of his mouth. Sourness bloomed.
Suddenly finding the cigarette smoke filling the room nauseating, Seunghyeok ground the cigarette out in the ashtray. Even then, his gaze didn’t leave the gaunt man wobbling beyond the glass. Whether it was his first time here or he’d overdosed without knowing his limits, his steps were unsteady.
Just as Seunghyeok was about to signal Taesik to take care of it before it became a hassle, someone yanked the thin man’s arm hard. It was a muscular guy who’d been leaning against a pillar.
While thrusting his hips into a woman’s lower body, he grabbed the staggering man by the chin, pried his thin lips open, and shoved his tongue inside.
Ah….
Taesik, who’d been standing there like part of the wall, barely swallowed his groan. He bit down hard on his lower lip and glanced at Seunghyeok, but all he saw was the back of his head. Things had seemed fine with that young-looking man earlier, and it had looked like the night would pass quietly.
“…I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up right away.”
He’d given all the warnings, but maybe they’d taken it as the usual spiel. Now and then, people like this showed up—too drunk or high to tell right from wrong, ignoring every caution.
The big man seemed taken with the novelty, stopping his thrusts and almost fully turning toward the thin man. He looked ready to topple him straight onto the sofa behind them, and Taesik stepped forward in a hurry—only to be stopped by Seunghyeok rising and gesturing.
Catching Seunghyeok’s look, Taesik shut his mouth and quietly pulled the door open. The music, previously muted by a single pane of glass, surged louder, and moans mixed with cries bounced off the walls and ceiling like theater sound effects.
Click, click—the sound of dress shoes landed decisively on the tiled floor, heading straight for the two men groping at each other.
“Boss, I—”
Taesik tried to speak urgently as he followed, but it was useless. Seunghyeok tore the larger of the two men away and, without warning, drove his fist into the man’s solar plexus.
Even sober, it would have been hard to react. Drunk, there was no chance. The half-naked body lost its balance and crashed to the floor. Watching from behind, Taesik swallowed whatever came next and rubbed his face briefly with both hands.
“Agh…!”
Seunghyeok stared down at the man clutching his stomach and gagging, expressionless, then lifted his foot. The nearly naked woman who’d been sprawled in front of him shrieked once and scrambled into another man’s arms.
“No matter how horny you are….”
“Ghk—kh!”
“At least check what kind of hole you’re fucking. Huh?”
Over the blaring music, coughing filled with pain mixed with the dull thuds of kicks, but no one paid the man rolling on the floor any attention. They were too busy kissing whoever was beside them, bodies tangled together.
As the kicking continued, the man on the floor became a mess. There were only three people watching: Gu Seunghyeok, Gwak Taesik, and the long-haired, gaunt man crouched beneath the sofa, eyes wide.
“Cough—hk—kh….”
Even with his face split open and bleeding, his grotesquely erect member bobbed in the air. Like he was looking at a trash bag ripped open in some alley, Seunghyeok stared down with a look laced with disgust. Then, as if to put on a show for the terrified man watching from the corner, he used his foot to roll the big body onto its side.
“Hhk….”
Reddish eyes, shaking with fear, lifted toward Seunghyeok. Looking only at the frightened man and not sparing the other a glance, Seunghyeok pressed the dark red organ under his heel. A low moan slipped from the man’s lips. Seunghyeok spoke, eyes still fixed on the one cowering.
“Gay bastards…. Do you know where you are?”
“Hh, hh—hng….”
“…Disgusting.”