Chapter 17 #2
Where was he going? Back when they had been together, Hyukjoon never walked anywhere.
Once, he had called a taxi to take them from one bar to another, even though the second spot was only a single block away.
It would have been faster to walk, Dahye had said, only for her words to fall on deaf ears.
Swiftly, without a second thought, she followed him.
Half an hour of brisk walking later, they made it to the nearest major street.
Hyukjoon, who seemed as though he had not exerted himself at all, lifted his arm lazily, flagging a taxi.
He climbed into the backseat without a second look.
The car pulled away from the curb. Thirsty, exhausted, and out of breath, Dahye waved her arms crazily toward another taxi, which stopped for her.
“Where do you need to go?” the driver asked.
“I need you to follow that car,” she said, pointing. Already, Hyukjoon’s car was passing through the intersection. “Please. I’ll pay you double the fare.”
The man’s eyebrows jumped. “Miss?”
She clasped her hands together, and after a moment of hesitation, the man nodded.
They wove in and out of traffic, never straying more than a few car lengths behind the other taxi.
Dahye’s eyes were glued to the back of Hyukjoon’s head, which was clearly visible through the rear windshield.
In Itaewon, which was starting to ramp up with partygoers, Hyukjoon’s car stopped, and he got out.
A large group of young men and women walked past, chattering excitedly, and Dahye paid the driver hurriedly, clambering out just as Hyukjoon disappeared into one of the clubs facing the street.
Patches of pink and blue light shimmered on the sidewalk.
Music blared, overlapping with the sounds of excited chatter coming from the people clumped around in little groups.
Foreigners stood and gawped. Promoters, dressed from head to toe in black, with walkie-talkies in hand, tried unsuccessfully to usher idling women into their clubs.
One of the promoters looked at Dahye and half-heartedly waved. She pretended not to see him.
The sign above the club Hyukjoon had entered read MOTHER LION.
A neon lion’s head blazed brightly from the door, and the bouncer, a squat, bald, broad-shouldered man with tattoos, stood in front of it.
The line was at least forty people deep, and the bouncer watched her with obvious disdain as she came up to the door.
“Can I help you?” he asked icily.
“I need to get inside,” Dahye said. “My boyfriend told me to meet him here.”
The bouncer smirked. “And that matters to me why?”
“Because … because my boyfriend is Jang Hyukjoon.” She swallowed, blinking rapidly. “I saw you let him in a moment ago.”
Dahye’s skin crawled as the bouncer looked her up and down. She was wearing a pair of Bora’s old sweatpants and a hoodie that was a size too big for her, and she could tell by his sneer that he wasn’t going to let her in.
“I’m his girlfriend,” she said, gritting her teeth.
The bouncer let out a bark of laughter. “Listen. I think you’ll do much better over there.
” Dahye turned to follow his outstretched arm.
The club he was pointing to exuded an unmistakable aura of seediness, and it appeared to be completely empty.
No line in front. No people loitering. Turning away from her, the bouncer waved to a group of women standing at the front of the line and let them in.
Dahye stood on the side and watched. The bouncer was now joking with a man who was at the front of the line, and he had turned his back to Dahye.
The two of them chatted animatedly. Behind them, the door swung open, and three women and a man staggered out, their faces glowing red.
The man bumped into the bouncer, who immediately turned and shoved him.
“Watch where you’re fucking going,” the bouncer snapped.
“Hey, fuck you!” the man said drunkenly. He swung a fist at the bouncer and missed. Right away the bouncer tackled him, and the women began screaming.
Taking a deep breath, Dahye darted into the club, pushing her way into the darkness.
Right away the volume increased tenfold, pounding against her eardrums. It was hot and crowded.
People pushed past her without apology. She looked around, eyes adjusting to the dimness, searching for Hyukjoon.
Dahye could hardly make out the faces in front of her, and she felt desperation washing over her as she made her way through the throng. There was no way she would find him.
But at that very moment, she saw Hyukjoon in her peripheral vision. He was sitting at a table near the stage with his friends—the same friends Dahye had met a month ago.
The tables surrounding Hyukjoon’s were filled.
The tabletops were littered with shot glasses and half-empty bottles of liquor.
Her feet began moving toward him, when suddenly a hand reached out and snagged her wrist. The man—a foreigner—smiled up at her.
Patted the spot next to him. “Sit,” he shouted. He was by himself.
She sat, keeping her eyes glued to Hyukjoon. The man who had grabbed her leaned over, his lips brushing against her ear. She frowned. She could hardly hear him, even though their shoulders were touching.
“What’s your name?” he asked in clumsy Korean.
“Eunhye,” she said, without thinking.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Eunhye. I’m Bobby.” He stuck out a hand. She took it gingerly, keeping her fingers limp, and let go as quickly as she could. At the other table, Hyukjoon threw a shot back, then wiped his mouth with his hand.
“Do you want a drink?” Bobby asked, motioning toward the bottles of liquor in the center of the table.
“Uh. No, thanks,” Dahye said. “I don’t really drink.”
Bobby frowned. “You came to a club even though you don’t drink?”
“Well, I really didn’t want to come—”
“Come on. Don’t be like that. Let’s have one drink. Just one.”
His big melon of a head was blocking her view of Hyukjoon. “Sure,” she said, trying to peer over his shoulder.
Bobby made a show of pouring and mixing the drink, even though it was just vodka and orange juice. She paid no attention to him. She could tell Hyukjoon was already drunk from the way he was talking, his lips loose around his words, and the jaunty shake of his head.
“Hey,” Bobby said. He shoved the glass under her nose with his left hand. His right hand wormed its way into her lap. She stiffened, then scooted away. He laughed. “Geonbae,” he said, cocking his head.
Dahye clinked her glass to his and took a tiny sip, barely wetting her tongue. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Hyukjoon. The lights flashing onstage caught his face, illuminating him completely and making him look almost angelic. He was so beautiful. Even now. Even after everything.
“How’s the drink? Is it any good?”
“It’s great.” She feigned taking another sip but kept her lips tightly sealed. “Thanks.”
“So.” Bobby leaned in again, and she could smell the sickly sweetness of his breath. It was nauseating. “What do you do?” His hand crept toward the edge of her thighs.
“N—nothing,” she said and moved her legs in the opposite direction.
“Come on,” Bobby coaxed, shifting closer. “Nothing? You don’t work? You don’t do anything at all?”
“Nothing,” she said, more firmly this time. “I don’t work. Not anymore.”
“And are you out tonight with friends, or …”
Hyukjoon stood and walked toward them, and Dahye ducked to avoid being seen, using Bobby’s chest as a shield. When Hyukjoon was gone, Dahye straightened up.
“I came alone,” she said, straining to keep her eyes on Hyukjoon’s back.
“I might as well have done the same,” Bobby said. He gestured toward the dance floor. “All my friends left.”
Dahye wasn’t listening. As Hyukjoon began to slip through the crowd, she set the glass down on the table, a little harder than intended. The liquid sloshed over the edge and onto her hand. “I have to go,” she said, wiping it on her pants. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the drink.”
“Go where?” Bobby shouted. He tried to grab her but missed.
Dahye hurried in the direction Hyukjoon had gone and spotted him just as he disappeared into the men’s restroom.
She stood for a moment, contemplating, and pushed open the door to the women’s restroom.
If she timed it right, she could pretend to run into Hyukjoon.
Pure coincidence, or serendipity, as Bora liked to say.
The first two stalls in the restroom were occupied, but other than that, it was empty.
The last stall, the biggest one, was open.
Dahye made a beeline for it. Somehow the music was even louder here than it was on the dance floor.
She winced. Besides the deafening music, the place was filthy.
There wasn’t a single trash can that wasn’t overflowing.
Puddles of water glimmered on the floor.
She had barely closed the stall door when it flew open, narrowly missing her face.
“Hey!” she shouted. She took a step back when she saw it was the man from the table. Bobby. His face was beet red.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.
He locked the stall, then turned to her, his nostrils flaring. “You’re fucking rude, you know that? Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”
She tried to push past him, but he blocked her. “I can’t believe you followed me in here,” she said angrily. “Move.”
“When someone gives you something, you should be grateful,” Bobby said.
“I said, move!”
He smiled, and in the dimness, his features were warped and terrifying. “Make me.”
Dahye began to shout. “Somebody help me—” But just as she managed to get the words out, Bobby lunged toward her, clapping his hand hard over her nose and mouth.
She dug her fingernails into his forearms, tried to bite him.
This only made him tighten his hold on her.
“I hate ungrateful bitches like you,” he muttered, breath hot against her earlobe.
She could feel the terror then, that icy hand slipping down her esophagus.
The word rape was flashing in her mind like an alarm bell.
“You think you’re better than me because of what—because I’m a waegukin? I’ve lived in Seoul for ten years!”
Outside of the stall, she thought she could hear women’s laughter. If only the music wasn’t so loud. If only she hadn’t followed Hyukjoon here. If only. She tried feebly to push Bobby’s hand away, and he moved it down to her throat, squeezing hard. Bright spots danced across her vision.
Sensing that she was about to pass out, Bobby loosened his grip. Dahye gulped in a lungful of air, swallowing greedily. “I’ll let you go on one condition,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. He was still blocking the door.
“What is it?” she asked faintly, her fingers jumping to her bruised and tender throat. She hated herself for even entertaining him.
“I want you to suck me off.”
“No.” She shook her head forcefully. “No. I won’t do it.”
He reached out and grabbed the back of her head.
Screaming, Dahye beat her fists against his chest. But the music was too loud; she knew nobody would hear her.
In a moment of madness, she imagined that she could overpower him, throwing a clumsy punch at his face.
He grabbed her fist easily. His right hand returned to her throat, and he forced her down.
There was a stab of pain in each knee as they smacked the hard tile.
Dahye’s thoughts returned to Hyukjoon. She remembered being in a similar pose, kneeling on the soft carpet in the luxurious department store. She knew what was coming next. She could taste bile in the back of her throat.
Her vision blurred as she looked up at Bobby. A large ceiling vent loomed over his shoulder. She fixated on it. Eunhye, she thought desperately, half expecting that familiar gleam of red to appear. Eunhye. I need you.
Nothing. No light in the vent. No sound. No sign of her sister.
With his free hand, Bobby tried clumsily to loosen his belt.
He had a raging erection. She closed her eyes.
Funny—she could hear everything so clearly now, in spite of the music: The leather sliding against metal as he unbuckled his belt.
His hitching, excited breaths. The sound of water refilling in the toilet tank.
“Open your eyes. I want you to look at me while you’re doing it.” He shook her hard. “Did you hear what I said? Open them!”
She did as he demanded, and a flicker of movement caught her eye. Eunhye. Her sister slowly emerged from the metal grille, as if coming out of a pool of water. Droplets began falling beneath her, at first slowly, and then in a torrent.
“What the fuck?” Bobby looked up just as Eunhye came crashing down on him from above. At the same time, Dahye gave him a hard shove.
His feet slipped on the wet floor. There was a loud crack as his face hit the front edge of the toilet bowl. Horrified, Dahye pressed herself against the wall. He twitched violently once before growing still.