Chapter 8 #2
Her cubicle was an assault on his eyes. Confused by the sudden explosion of pink, Junyoung stood there, blinking stupidly.
Next to her keyboard was a pink mousepad and next to that was a wobbling tower of pink sticky notes, the topmost sheet covered in scribbles.
Her chair had a frilly, pink seat cover.
Other than that, there were no personal objects that he could see: no pictures of boyfriends or siblings or friends. No indication of her interests.
“Let me guess. Your favorite color is blue.”
She laughed. “You can sit,” she said. He sat, unable to keep the thought from his mind: Her pussy touched this. Under the guise of making himself comfortable, he ground his hips against the seat, feeling lightheaded.
He knew what the problem was almost instantly, and had he wanted to, he could have fixed it within minutes. But he made a big show of helping her, taking his time, making it seem more difficult than it actually was. When he could dawdle no longer, he restarted the computer.
“Ta-da. Good as new.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“All part of the job.” He started to salute her and then, realizing how stupid that was, switched to a wave halfway through. It was awkward. He winced, but she didn’t seem to notice. As he was leaving, he casually tossed over his shoulder: “Have you eaten lunch yet?”
Dahye shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll probably skip. I have a lot to do before the day is over.”
“Oh.” He swallowed hard, feeling nervous. “That’s too bad. I was going to ask if you wanted to eat together.”
“I’m sorry. I really can’t …” She glanced at her screen. “Maybe next time?”
“When?”
“Um. I don’t know …”
“Tomorrow?”
She hesitated. “I suppose tomorrow would work.”
“Great. I’ll swing by around noon?”
“Alright.”
“Good luck with everything today. Call me if you run into any other issues with your computer. I’d be more than happy to come back to take a look.”
“Thanks again,” she said.
It took everything in his power not to skip out of her cubicle. He floated down to the basement, to his desk, where he sat for the rest of the day, dreamy and absentminded. If he knew his father’s number, he would have called him and bragged about his upcoming date.
At the end of the day, he watched Dahye leave through the lobby camera and felt a burning desire to be close to her. He waited until the building was almost empty and then made his way upstairs to her cubicle.
Running his fingers over her sticky notes, he felt the indents left behind from her pen and tore off the top sheet, shoving it deep into his pocket, next to the strands of hair he had stolen from her head.
She had left a plastic water bottle behind, and the cap was off.
Junyoung picked it up. Pressed his lips against the opening.
Took a swig, swishing the lukewarm water around in his mouth.
He’d read an article about backwash—specifically, that it was almost impossible for humans to drink without at least some backflow.
He imagined the millions of particles in the liquid that had been in her mouth and were now in his.
Tomorrow, they would have lunch, and at the end of it, he would ask her to dinner. After that, who knows what could blossom between them? Feeling cheerful, he hummed as he made his way back downstairs to his desk.
The lights in the basement were dim, the timer having gone off.
Everybody was gone. Junyoung passed the rows of empty desks, and when he reached his cubicle, he was startled to find someone sitting in his chair.
They were using his computer, the glow of the screen illuminating their silhouette.
Junyoung slowed to a stop, and the chair swiveled around. It was Kangmin.
“You forgot to log out,” Kangmin said, smirking.
“What?” Junyoung asked, scratching his head. “Why are you still here? I thought you went home. And what are you doing on my …?”
As Junyoung’s attention moved toward his monitor, he felt his heart drop.
The cameras. Kangmin was looking at the camera feeds. All forty boxes were loaded on the screen and clearly visible. The lobby, the bathrooms, the empty stalls.
“That—that’s not real,” Junyoung stammered, taking a step back. “It’s a program that simulates—”
“Oh, shut up,” Kangmin said. “I know what you’ve been doing.
When I walked by earlier, I thought I saw something weird, so I spent the whole day trying to access your computer remotely.
There were all these extra protections added in—not the usual stuff—and that’s when I knew you were up to no good.
” He wagged his finger as though Junyoung were a naughty child.
“I have to say, I didn’t expect this. This … this is crazy. What were you thinking?”
Kangmin grinned, baring his teeth. They were terrible teeth: sharp and pointed, animallike in their savagery. Junyoung imagined Kangmin leaping out of the chair and onto his chest, ripping his throat out, the blood gushing warm and wet onto the carpeted floor.
+
Long after Kangmin was gone, Junyoung sat, staring blankly at the wall.
His first inclination had been to fight Kangmin, to try to beat him into submission.
But despite all the push-ups he had been doing, Junyoung was still weak, and even as he had grabbed Kangmin by the collar, he had known it was a fruitless endeavor.
Kangmin had laughed until Junyoung, red-faced with desperation, let him go.
“What do you want?” Junyoung asked. His voice was hoarse.
“Money? I have money—” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his scuffed wallet.
“I only have fifty thousand won on me right now, but I can get more.” He pulled out the crumpled bill with shaking hands.
“I can send you more. Just tell me how much, damn it …”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want? I’ll do anything, Kangmin. Please don’t tell anybody.”
“I don’t plan on saying a word.” Kangmin’s face was very still. In the low light, his irises looked completely black. “I want what you have.”
“What?”
“I want what you have,” Kangmin repeated.
Junyoung took a step back. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Truthfully, you’re doing what we’re all dying to do. You think if any of these guys knew they could get away with it, they wouldn’t try? We’re men.”
Junyoung heard his father’s voice ringing in his ears. You just acted on your natural instincts …
“I’m not asking for much,” Kangmin continued.
“You don’t have to give me complete access to the system.
Just send me a few videos from time to time, and we can keep this between us.
” He clapped Junyoung on the shoulder and, without waiting for his response, said, “Don’t work too hard tonight, man.
I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
It made Junyoung feel sick to his stomach, the sheer idea of giving up what he had worked so hard to achieve.
Kangmin had never helped him with anything, and he wasn’t trustworthy in the slightest. Kangmin was a schoolyard bully.
A pervert. A freak. If Junyoung gave him the videos, he would probably turn around and post everything online.
And what if he asked for footage of Dahye? Junyoung clenched his fists, shaking his head. He would have to protect her.