HPK 25

Wooseung repeatedly splashed cold water on his face. The face, which had been flushed with heat, gradually cooled down in the water that was cold enough to make his fingertips numb. He roughly wiped the water dripping down his neck with his hand. As he was shaking his wet bangs with his hand and coming out of the bathroom, he heard a voice calling him from a distance.

“Yoon Wooseung! Where the hell did this bastard go.”

Recognizing the irritation in the voice, Wooseung hurried over.

“Sir, I am here.”

“This bastard. Fuck, I am busy as hell.”

“I am sorry. I just went to the bathroom for a moment…”

“You are done with your room, right?”

“What? Yes.”

He had just come out of a room and went straight to the bathroom. Kim Jungoh checked the watch on his wrist and grabbed Wooseung’s arm.

“Let us go. It is a room with no lineup, so when you go in, just go to an empty seat and sit down right away.”

The place where he, who had been striding ahead, stopped was in front of Room 7. He saw Wooseung’s wet bangs, muttered a low curse, and then roughly pushed his hair back.

“Why do you look so shabby no matter what you do.”

As the wet hair was naturally pushed back, his round forehead was revealed. Perhaps it was because it was seen alongside his gentle eyes, but a dazed impression stood out. But there was nothing more he could do here, so he nagged him to wipe the remaining water on his neck and cheeks clean.

“Match the mood well, and these are the president’s acquaintances, so you cannot make any mistakes.”

“Yes, yes.”

Looking at his dazed appearance, he did not feel much confidence, but there was no other way. There were already one or two hosts who had been kicked out just by sitting their butts down. He quickly pushed Wooseung into the open door and smiled brightly.

“I am sorry, President. Oh my, I think this kid is a little drunk and could not find the room.”

“Jungoh. I thought my fucking dick was going to fall off from waiting.”

At the rebuke of the man with a buzz cut, Kim Jungoh smiled obsequiously.

“Aigoo, I am sorry, Moonsu hyung-nim. Then please have fun!”

He bowed his waist at a 90-degree angle and turned around. Bang! As the door slammed shut, Wooseung was left alone and forlorn in front of the karaoke machine.

He should have gone to an empty seat and sat down, but his feet would not move. Despite Kim Jungoh’s repeated warnings to match the mood well and not to make any mistakes, his legs were frozen stiff as if they were rooted to the ground like a tree.

“Hey, there, there. No, ugh, you punk. The balls! Lick the balls!”

“Ah, hyung-nim. There is too much exposure right now, is there not? It is ruining my appetite for a drink!”

“Hey, give me a light.”

The inside of the room was, in a word, a chaotic mess.

On the table, food bought from outside, a fruit platter, and whiskey bottles were scattered messily, and on one side, a pile of banknotes was stacked.

“This is good now. Oh, yeah, right there.”

But the real problem was something else. Among the men who packed the room, only one or two were fully clothed. The hosts were almost naked, and one of them was kneeling on the floor, not on the sofa.

“Hic, huuu…”

“Wow, the sucking power of this one is definitely different from the girls.”

Suck, slurp. Every time his head moved up and down, a sticky sound was made. The light gray shirt was crumpled, and its hem was sticking out of his pants.

“Hey, hey. You, sit over there.”

The man who snapped his fingers at Wooseung pointed to the sofa on the opposite side. He was wearing shorts that barely covered half of his thighs, and his legs were completely covered in tattoos. The tattoos went all the way down to his ankles, making it look at a glance like he was wearing leggings.

With trembling hands, Wooseung gathered a glass and a can of Sky Barley tea and went to the place the man had pointed to. The men’s legs were sprawled all over the aisle between the table and the sofa. The floor was wet with fallen and crushed fruit, cigarette butts, and spit. As Wooseung stood there awkwardly, hesitating, the man sitting at the end of the sofa slapped Wooseung’s butt.

“Ah!”

“The fuck is ‘ah’. What are you doing blocking the way.”

He snapped irritably, and when Wooseung still stood there, he raised his hand again. Only then did Wooseung quickly move his feet. “Excuse me, I will just, just pass through,” he mumbled as he passed between the vine-like legs.

The room was so full of cigarette smoke that his vision was blurred. With every breath, a pungent air rushed in.

As soon as he sat down, he made eye contact with Taejung. The person sitting next to him only glanced at Wooseung and looked away, but Taejung stared at Wooseung as if he had chosen him.

“Are you drunk?”

He asked with the corners of his mouth stretched into a smirk. Wooseung, while sneaking glances at the man sitting next to him, shook his head. He should have at least said hello, but he was bothered by Taejung, who had spoken to him.

“I am not drunk.”

“Then why could you not find the room.”

He laughed, bringing up what Kim Jungoh had said just a moment ago.

“Ah, I did not know I had to go straight to a room, so I went to the bathroom and…”

“Ugh!”

He was in the middle of speaking when his head whipped to the side. The painful groan had come from the opposite side. He wanted to look away, but he could not.

‘How is my hair?’

The hair that had been neatly slicked back with pomade was now crushed under a man’s pot-lid-sized hand, sticking out in all directions. From under it came the sound of someone greedily sucking on something.

At the main building, he had not been close to any of the hosts, so even when he witnessed situations like this, his heart did not pound like this. But…

‘I usually take the bus.’

The awkwardly smiling face.

‘Namhae. I am going to set it up right in front of the sea, make it an ocean view, and rake in the money.’

The voice that had proudly declared his ambition.

“Hey.”

‘Later, if the president does a lineup, I am thinking of trying to appeal to him a bit.’

“Hey, what are you doing.”

Voices of completely different textures overlapped. The moment he realized it, a large hand came swooping in through the thick cigarette smoke that blurred his vision.

Before he could even close his eyes in surprise, he felt a stinging pain on his forehead. As he raised his palm to cover his forehead, Taejung muttered, “Too bad.” while continuously flicking the tip of his middle finger with his thumb.

Wooseung lowered the hand that had been covering his forehead and tore his eyes away from Hyojun. It seemed Taejung had noticed him staring in that direction, lost in thought.

“Why. Do you want to do that too?”

The place Taejung indicated with a nod of his head had a vape. Before he could even answer, he called out to the man sitting diagonally from him.

“Moonsu. Can you give me that.”

“Yes, President.”

The man called Moonsu immediately found the vape and respectfully handed it over with both hands. It was a very polite gesture, unlike the way he had been patting Hyojun’s head as if stroking a dog.

“Here.”

Wooseung, who had been reaching for the vape that Taejung threw without a second thought, hesitated.

‘The taste is just like a regular vape. Exactly the same.’

Suddenly, he remembered a host in the waiting room who was always holding a vape in his mouth. What he was doing was also a common vape inhaler, just like the one Taejung had thrown. Externally, there was nothing particularly different about it.

But what was inside it was herbs. It was a synthetic marijuana that was rapidly spreading among the hosts, and because its taste and smell were identical to a vape, everyone was trying it easily. There was even a host who cackled, saying he just vaped it on the street.

Then, little by little, his surroundings started to come into focus. The hosts, more relaxed than usual, the overly excited men, the vape inhalers and separated cartridges scattered here and there.

Wooseung swallowed hard and then refused as naturally as possible.

“I do not smoke, so it is okay. No, it is alright.”

“Ah. You do not know how to vape? It is similar to regular cigarettes.”

Taejung’s right eyebrow drew a sharp peak. His voice was unusually kind.

“You just have to put it in your mouth and suck. You are good at that, are you not.”

As he remained silent even at the mischievous joke, he heard someone call “Hey” from the opposite side.

When he raised his head, Moonsu was glaring at him fiercely. It was a glare that was angry at him for just sitting there when the president had personally offered him something.

“I really, really do not know how to smoke.”

“…”

“I am really grateful, I mean, I am really grateful. But because I do not know how to smoke…”

Wooseung looked back and forth between Taejung and Moonsu, waving his hands frantically. He knew he was ruining the mood, but he really did not want to smoke it. If it had been a cigarette, he would have smoked it without a word. But the thought that it might not be a regular vape made him not even want to touch it.

When he worked at the main building, Wooseung’s customers were mostly hostesses who worked at other establishments. They often came in very drunk and did not hesitate to cross the line to feel a bigger thrill.

‘Oppa, want some too?’

With glazed eyes, the woman had handed him a pink pill. Its surface was rough, making it look more like candy than a pill at a glance. It had a cute and unthreatening appearance, like the junk food he used to buy at the stationery store in his childhood, but Wooseung knew it was ‘candy’.

While appropriately placating her as she clung to him, asking to secretly go for a second round, he took the opportunity while she was drunk to wrap it in a tissue and throw it in the trash.

“Why.”

“…”

“Is it because of your esophagitis again?”

Taejung’s voice, as he asked that, was laced with amusement. For some reason, it felt like the calm before the storm, right before he was about to get angry.