HPK 35

Taejung hopped onto the sink and fiddled with the lighter he had brought from the counter. Click, click. He flicked the wheel, lighting and extinguishing the flame repeatedly.

“What are you doing? Do your business.”

When he stood still as if his feet were glued to the ground, he gestured with his chin as if to say, ‘mind your own business’.

Why did he follow me? Wooseung had no idea why he had followed him all the way to the restroom and was acting like this.

“…”

The hot breath that poured out with every exhale seemed to make the drunkenness worse. Wooseung furrowed his brow and shook his head. Ah, the tiles were spinning, merging into one, and then separating again.

First, I need to wash my face. Wooseung took a reluctant step forward. As he got closer to the sink, the scent of Taejung’s cologne disgustingly invaded his nostrils.

When he turned on the faucet, cold water gushed out forcefully. Swoosh. He wet his hands with water and pressed them firmly against his eyes. It seemed to help a little.

“Is it fun playing with the old man?”

“…It’s not fun.”

Taejung let out a soft laugh.

“You played so well with your clothes off, why are you pretending you didn’t?”

Wooseung, who was wiping his hands with a paper towel, unknowingly glared at him.

“I’ve never done that, so why do you keep…”

The paper towel crumpled in his hand. Crumple. His wet eyelashes, heavy with moisture, drooped downwards. The feeling was unpleasant, so he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Rub, rub. Taejung’s gaze fell on the corners of his eyes, which had quickly turned red.

It was Wooseung who broke the silence first.

“I’ll be, be going now.”

Was it because of the alcohol? He felt less scared than usual. He bowed his head perfunctorily and quickly left the restroom. Seeing that there was no sign of anyone following him, it seemed Taejung’s teasing had ended there, thankfully.

He returned to the room and started to cater to the men’s moods again. Hyojun seemed to have sobered up a little after throwing up once in the middle, but he eventually got completely drunk from the continuous drinks the men forced on him. Wooseung’s situation was not much different. Although he could hold his liquor a little better than Hyojun, drinking whiskey at this pace was another matter.

His memory would cut out and then strangely reconnect at odd points. One moment Hyojun, who had been in the man’s arms, was suddenly standing in front of the karaoke machine, and the next time he came to his senses, he was making a bomb shot.

Would it be like this if I were in a very fast car? There is no time to recognize the scenery outside the window, and a subtle motion sickness seems to torment the stomach. It was a very strange sensation.

He did not even realize the man sitting next to him was stroking his waist. Or that the hand had slipped inside the hem of his clothes. He just took the drinks that were offered, clapped his hands, and sang if a microphone was in his hand…

How much time had passed? Suddenly, a rough voice accompanied by warm breath came to his ear.

“Phew… Do you want to go out with your hyung?”

His body, having lost its sense of direction, swayed. He steadied himself by grabbing the sofa. The man stopped stroking his side and grabbed it hard. The strong force, like wringing out a cloth, made a short scream of “Ah,” escape Wooseung’s lips.

“I said, phew, let’s go out.”

The urging voice came again.

“Ah… I don’t, sniff, I don’t go out for the second round.”

“Why?”

“…”

“Why not. Hiccup, I’ll give you money.”

The mention of money unexpectedly made him think of Taejung.

‘What if I give you five hundred thousand?’

The voice that had asked about a million, a million and a half, and the ridicule and contempt that had been laced in it, replayed in his mind.

“Money, money…”

“Yeah, you punk. Money, the money you guys love so much, I’ll give it to you.”

His head drooped. Fortunately, he did not fall over because he was holding onto the sofa. His back was straight, but his head just hung down.

“You’ll go?”

“…”

“You promised you’d go. Sniff…”

“N-no. I can’t go.”

“What do you mean you can’t, hiccup, where is that a thing. If you go, you go.”

As if his hiccups, once started, would not stop, the man gulped down water repeatedly. With a burp, he slapped Wooseung’s butt with his palm. Slap, slap.

Just then, the intercom rang, signaling that time was running out. A moment later, Kim Jungoh opened the door and came in.

“Did you have fun? Aigoo, sirs. Time is up now, so I’ll send the boys out first. Youngil. Come and get him. This one’s passed out.”

Hyojun, who was completely drunk, was sprawled face down on the sofa, motionless. The man was in a similar state. He was snoring, with his head tilted back on the sofa.

Wooseung pushed himself up with difficulty, using the sofa for support. He was about to turn to his left when his wrist was suddenly grabbed.

“You, hic, didn’t answer.”

He had already answered no, so he did not know why he kept doing this. Wooseung put strength into his arm and shook his wrist free. It was something he would never have done normally, but he was not scared because he was drunk.

“Is this guy crazy…”

The man’s face, already flushed, instantly turned red and blue. Even in his drunken state, he had noticed Wooseung’s rejection. The guy who had been so friendly all along suddenly turned cold now that it was over, so the man considered that Wooseung was disrespecting him.

“Sir, if you’d like to extend…”

Reading the ominous atmosphere, Kim Jungoh immediately stepped in. He pulled Wooseung towards him and quickly whispered in his ear, “Go, go.” Wooseung walked past Kim Jungoh and headed for the open door.

“Oh, oh!”

It was then. Along with Kim Jungoh’s surprised voice, a pain as if all his hair was being pulled out struck the back of his head.

“You son of a bitch, I told you to answer me!”

His knees buckled, and he barely managed to stop himself from collapsing to the floor.

“Ah!”

He screamed and reached back with his hands, but he could not get the man off. His fingers, spread like hooks, had a firm grip on his hair. He was like a fish caught in a net, being dragged along.

“Sir, sir! What are you doing right now!”

“This goddamn bastard. Hiccup, are you, are you disrespecting me!”

Kim Jungoh rushed in to stop him, but it was not enough to calm down the man who was rampaging like an agitated bull. He yelled at the top of his lungs in all directions, saying that the male prostitute did not know his place.

Realizing he could not handle it alone, Kim Jungoh repeatedly yelled towards the hallway, “Youngil! Aish, fuck. An Youngil!” Soon, the waiter who had carried Hyojun on his back came running, out of breath. Seeing the disaster in the room, he quickly assessed the situation and immediately grabbed the man’s other arm.

“Hey, hey. First, just his hair! Aww, shit, what strength!”

Kim Jungoh desperately clung to the man who was clutching Wooseung’s hair, trying to somehow get him off. The waiter also joined in, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling it hard towards him.

Perhaps unable to withstand the strength of two adult men, the man’s fingers soon loosened. At the same time, Wooseung was thrown to the floor.

“Hey, go, go!”

“Sniff, ah, ah.”

Wooseung crawled on all fours on the floor. His elbows kept buckling, but he did not give up. As Kim Jungoh had shouted, he had to get out of the room. But someone standing at the doorway blocked his path. He looked up with a foolish expression. It was hard to see his face as he was backlit by the light from the hallway, but just from the silhouette, Wooseung could tell who he was.

“What are you doing?”

Before he could answer Taejung’s words, a loud shout came from behind like a thunderbolt.

“Hey! Hey, you come here! You fucking bastard. I said, come here!”

Wooseung thought he had to get outside first. He squeezed past Taejung’s legs, which were blocking the doorway, and crawled. A low laugh was heard from above.

“Is running away a hobby of yours…”

At the same time, a sneaker with a large luxury logo on it blocked his path again.

“Crazy, what’s going on.”

“Is there a fight?”

Through the gap between his legs, the chaotic scene of the hallway could be seen. There were hosts who had come to see what was going on. It was at the very end of the hallway, so it was far if you could call it far, but the sound of whispering was very clear.

“This is fucked. Shit, the President is here.”

“Where, where.”

“Ah, get lost, you bastard. You’re pushing me.”

The light conversation, as if they were watching a fire across the river, came flying into his ears. What kind of rumors would spread if they saw this? He was already the subject of gossip, with people talking about him being sponsored by Taejung and what not, and he did not want to provide any more fuel to the fire.

“Please, move.”

A thin voice escaped through his panting breath.

“I, I said I don’t go out for the second round, sniff, but, he kept… that, that person kept…”

Taejung listened without interrupting his stuttering words. His expression was unreadable as he was backlit, but he did not seem angry.

“Move, please move.”

He vaguely thought, in his alcohol-soaked head, that if he explained the situation well, he would move aside.

“Ah, the second round.”

Taejung nodded his head leisurely, as if he had finally grasped the situation. He took his right hand out of his pocket and gestured to Jungoh.

“Jungoh. Bring the customer here.”

“Yes? Yes, yes.”

Kim Jungoh, with beads of sweat forming on his forehead, brought the man, whose arms had been restrained in the meantime, in front of Taejung. He had already given up on treating him like a customer and was now kicking the man’s calf, annoyed, telling him to hurry up.

“Hey, you guys. I said fucking let go!”

The veins on his temples bulged and throbbed. The back of his neck was drenched in sweat, making the collar of his T-shirt a darker color.

“Youngjun. Is Hoonyeong outside?”

At the unexpected question, Youngil seemed flustered and could not control his expression.

“Yes? Uh, no?”

“Are you sure?”

“…He was definitely not here until a little while ago.”

Taejung placed his hand on the doorframe and leaned his body back. After checking both right and left, he slowly rolled up his sleeves. The forearms revealed beneath the sleeves were thick.

He took off the watch on his wrist and tossed it to Wooseung. The watch, which hit his shoulder and fell, landed on his thigh.

“Hold on to this.”

Wooseung stared blankly at the watch that had fallen on his thigh. Between the octagonal bezel, the watch with its prominent black-and-blue dial was heavy. At the words ‘hold on to this’, he unconsciously gripped it in his hand. Unlike its appearance, which seemed like it would be very cold, the inside was warm with Taejung’s body heat.