HPK 56

“Are you waiting for the choice?”

“Pardon?”

In an instant, he was standing in front of Wooseung, grabbing his ear and shaking it lightly. “You are so bad at listening,” he added with a mischievous tone.

“What is this, just for decoration? Why don’t you get it the first time?”

“Ah, yes, yes. I am waiting for the choice.”

Taejung stretched his head back to check on the players and the room they were waiting to be called into. Then, he pressed down firmly on the crown of Wooseung’s head before letting go and leaving him with words that could be either encouragement or something else entirely. “Do well. If it doesn’t work out, come to my room.”

That was the end of it. As if that was all the business he had, Taejung quickly walked down the hallway with his wide strides. The other players’ gazes did not leave Wooseung until Taejung turned the corner and completely disappeared.

“Wow, what the fuck was that? So blatant.”

“Hey, hey. I told you this was it.”

One of the players made a hand gesture that explicitly suggested a sexual act. Seeing that, a few of them burst into laughter at the same time.

Wooseung tried his best to ignore the whispers flying into his ears and the stares piercing his skin. However, Hyojun’s gaze, which rained down on him like a downpour with no escape, was the only thing that was hard to bear.

What on earth is Taejung doing? It’s truly absurd, but it’s as if he’s showing off his closeness with me…

‘Tell Jungoh and come to the room.’

‘…If it doesn’t work out, come to my room.’

And always as if he wants others to see.

“Hyung…”

His shoulders flinched at the sorrowful voice. The more Taejung subtly closed the distance, the more Hyojun’s comfort became a joke, and his own fear became just an excuse. It was as if Taejung was aiming for exactly that.

“It doesn’t seem like a long-term thing.”

“I guess he’s just for pocket money when he’s in a hurry. He’s right next door, shit, just pull down his pants, and, huff, huff.”

A player in a dark navy shirt grabbed at the empty air and moved his hips in time with his breathing. Laughter spread in all directions at the vulgar act reminiscent of doggy style.

“Let’s go in.”

Just then, Kim Jungoh opened the door and gestured for the players to come. The players who had been making sexual jokes glanced at Wooseung one last time before turning away. But Hyojun still did not take his eyes off Wooseung. Wooseung desperately avoided his gaze.

An unpleasant sensation, like breaking out in a cold sweat, surged through him. But when he rubbed his forehead with his hand, it was still dry.

The hallway was a bit noisy with the sounds of music from several rooms all mixed together. Staggering players came and went through doors that occasionally opened and closed.

Wooseung stood blankly in front of a door marked with the number 70 among the dozens of doors, unconsciously and repeatedly fumbling with his hand at his bulging right pants pocket.

“Haaah…”

He was still unsure if it was right to grant this favor, or if Taejung would even listen to him if he brought it up. He couldn’t be certain of anything, which made his stomach churn.

But…

Even though Kim Hyungho had suffered such humiliation in the room, hadn’t he been satisfied in the end because he had earned a lot of money? When he came to the waiting room to brag, there was no palpable sense of shame or humiliation. So maybe… it might not be such a bad thing for Hyojun either.

After confirming the weight that made his pants pocket feel heavy, Wooseung clenched his fist tightly and knocked. Knock, knock. After a few seconds, he slowly opened the door. Taejung, who was sitting in the seat of honor, put down his phone and smiled with a grimace.

“What’s this?”

He seemed quite surprised by Wooseung’s unannounced visit. But without telling him to leave, he naturally leaned back against the sofa’s backrest.

“This isn’t your personal lounge.”

The words flew at him, laced with a faint sneer.

“Um, Mr. President.”

“Yes, Player-nim.”

Taejung playfully dragged out the end of his words. Wooseung tucked his lower lip in and sucked on it before carefully beginning.

“I have something to tell you.”

He took one step at a time, slowly approached, and sat on the very edge of the sofa.

“Are you being distant? Come here.”

Taejung gestured for him to come closer. Wooseung lifted his butt from where he’d been sitting, passed between the sofa and the table, and sat diagonally from him.

“What is it that you have to tell me.”

The tips of his fingers, draped casually over the back of the sofa, twitched lightly. His hands had thick knuckles and were calloused in places, but overall they were long and had no sharp angles.

“It’s nothing much. It’s just that…”

As he hesitated, unable to easily bring up the subject, Taejung was the one who prompted him, “What is it?”

‘You can’t go around telling people you heard about an errand or whatever from me. Don’t even ask.’

‘If I get caught, I’m seriously dead. For real, for real. I’m not just saying that, I mean it. So just act like you didn’t hear anything.’

The words Hyungho had said someday, which were either a threat or a plea, echoed in his mind. He felt lost, unable to know where the choice he made in this moment would lead him… Nevertheless, Wooseung had to do it.

“You know Kim Hyungho.”

He was most afraid of rejecting someone’s request in the entire world. And even more so of meeting eyes filled with disappointment.

“Kim Hyungho?”

“…”

“Ah, Kim Hyungho.”

Taejung slowly nodded his head.

“Why him?”

“Back then… Kim Hyungho… could I possibly know what kind of job he did?”

The small, prominent Adam’s apple on Wooseung’s dry throat bobbed once. Although it was a little disorganized, he tried to speak clearly and without trembling.

Taejung did not answer, only staring at Wooseung fixedly. His expression was ambiguous, making it unclear whether he was interested in the current conversation or not. Naturally, a gap formed in the conversation, and to Wooseung, it felt like an endlessly uncomfortable silence.

“…What kind of scheme is this now.”

Ha, a short laugh was followed by a sharp, low voice. He nonchalantly rubbed the end of his eyebrow with his thumb.

“Ah, it’s not a scheme or anything. It’s, well, you see.”

“…”

“Kim Hyungho once bragged that… he got a lot of money for doing an errand for you, Mr. President.”

He spoke step by step, with a clear purpose, leaving no room for small misunderstandings. At the same time, his eyes busily observed Taejung’s minor physical reactions. The finger rubbing the end of his eyebrow, the pupils that didn’t show the slightest waver, the mouth firmly shut in a straight line.

“So I was wondering what kind of job it was—”

“That’s not it.”

Taejung curtly cut Wooseung off.

“That’s not it, is it. What you want to say right now.”

“…”

“Why are you beating around the bush like this? It’s annoying.”

He scrunched up his eyes and smiled just like before. Wooseung’s heart dropped as if a weight tied to it had plummeted. He had an instinctive feeling that dragging this on any longer would not lead to a good response.

“The truth is, well, the truth is. There’s a friend who asked me to tell you, Mr. President, that he’s interested in that job. It’s not out of the blue or anything… Kim Hyungho kept bragging about it in the waiting room, so, so…”

Taejung stretched out his hand and fumbled around on the table. Only a lighter was caught by his fingertips. Seemingly not what he wanted, he frowned slightly.

“Who is it. The kid who’s interested.”

“Hyo, ah, Jaewoo. Park Jaewoo.”

“You think I’ll know if you tell me his name?”

“Ah… then should I bring him now?”

Taejung, who had been staring quietly at Wooseung, let out a smirk.

“You’re being fucking proactive, aren’t you?”

“…”

“Go ahead.”

With permission granted so readily, it was Wooseung who hesitated. Taejung then urged him, “What are you doing. Call Jungoh.” Wooseung went to the intercom next to the karaoke machine and relayed the message that the president was looking for him. Before long, Kim Jungoh entered the room with a polite posture.

“You called for me?”

Taejung opened his mouth, then closed it and looked at Wooseung.

“What was his name again?”

“Jaewoo, it’s Jaewoo. Park Jaewoo.”

“You heard him, right? Bring cigarettes when you come, too.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Even without any explanation whatsoever, Kim Jungoh quickly understood Taejung’s request. He bowed deeply and quietly closed the door as he left. In the silence, only the sound of Taejung turning the wheel of his lighter could be heard. Click, click. Each time the sound was made, a flame flared up and then was extinguished with a whoosh.

“The guys are saying that you and I have a sponsor relationship.”

He turned his head at an angle to look at Wooseung.

“The rumor did spread like that. But I said it wasn’t true.”

At that, Taejung reacted with surprise, “Why?”

“It is a sponsor relationship.”

“A sponsor, um, I thought it wasn’t…”

“You sell your body to me, and I give you money. Then it’s a sponsor relationship, right?”

He added again, as if he had forgotten something.

“Ah, no. You gave me money too, so I guess we’re even?”

The events of that day were brought up for discussion. Maybe because it was an unexpected moment, his heart pounded like a fish flailing about because its head wasn’t struck.

“You know what? The moment I thought that I sold my body that day, that fucking ten thousand won felt like such a waste.”

Tock, tock. Every time the corner of the lighter hit the table, his throat tightened with tension.

“I’ve lived my life without knowing the value of money, and it’s all thanks to you, Wooseung.”

He put special emphasis on ‘thanks to you’. Unlike the smile on his lips, every word he spat out was covered in thorns.

“Are you fucking grateful?”

Facing the sarcastic smile, Wooseung put his hand in his pocket.