KYUNGHEE STARED AT THE mirror.
The reflection was a constant reminder of just how much she looked like her mother. It wasn't a problem if her mother was normal like most mothers, if her mother had left her with good memories to recall from. Sadly, neither case was true.
From thesultry, hazel eyes to the nose, plump lips, down to the dimples that punched deep into her cheeks at the slight of a smile—everything was Gong Miryung's. If she showed strangers a picture of the two, and told them they were related, they wouldn't doubt it.
She was an exact replica of Gong Miryung. The resemblance was uncanny.
Everyone had flaws and imperfections. Nobody was perfect, but what people called her most attractive feature was in truth her complex, the thorn to her confidence. To inherit her mother's sex appeal wasn't a blessing, but a curse. Just because she looked a certain way—had a certain trait she didn't have a choice in—she was automatically given a label that had stuck with her since adolescence. It was a curse she could never escape from, not as a kid, definitely not as an adult.
Most kids wanted to look like their beautiful mother, but not Kyunghee. It wasn't as if she could gouge her eyes out, slashed her mouth and skinned herself alive so that she wouldn't look like that woman—unless she was completely off the hinge. She tried whatever she could not to look like that woman, but when she was home and the foundation was wiped clean, she was still that woman's daughter—vulnerable flesh and tainted blood.
When make-up proved little to help, and she was tired of walking around looking like she had birthday cakes on her face, Kyunghee turned to hairstyling. It was surprising how much a hairstyle could change a person. For a time in her life, she had tried out all these crazy hairdos, but sadly, a hairstyle could only make a person different to a certain extent.
No matter what she did, how she tried to camouflage herself, nothing was ever going to work. She still looked like Gong Miryung. It was stupid, but that woman had hurt her enough to foolishly do that to herself.
She was Ahn Kyunghee. Gong Miryung's daughter. Like a curse.
RIGHT NOW, SHE WAS SPORTING pink balayage on black, styled in a messy beach wave, reaching slightly above her bellybutton. She didn't remember when the last time she had plain black hair was. But in her line of work, women with pink, purple, blue and silver hair was a norm, so the pink balayage was simply another fashion trend.
"What do you mean you can't go this weekend? I already bought the advanced tickets. Fine! Do whatever you want. I'll just go with Kyunghee then."
At the mention of her name, Kyunghee wrenched her eyes away from the lighted mirror, turning towards the glamorous woman sitting next to her.
"Hmph." Lee Jiwon hung up the phone, irritated. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself, and then turned towards Kyunghee. "Are you free this weekend for a date with a gorgeous woman who has an impeccable sense of style, a keen eye for romance, but also loves eating extra buttered popcorn to trash reality?"
Kyunghee chuckled. "She sounds like someone I know."
"Of course you do, because I'm that gorgeous woman. I have tickets to Lotte World for a drone show happening this weekend. I'm also thinking of taking you out on a romantic dinner and walk. We can hold hands and talk about everything and anything under the stars. Then maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to take you home to bed with me. How does that sound, baby?" Jiwon cooed, blowing a playful kiss Kyunghee's way.
"Aw, you sure know how to make a girl blush. How can I turn down such a tempting offer?"
The two shared a silly laugh.
"Who was that on the phone earlier, though?" Kyunghee asked, turning more serious.
"I've been seeing a guy. We were supposed to go to Lotte World together this weekend, but it turns out he has family commitments. Oh well, his loss. Not mine." Jiwon shrugged, exhaling deeply. "Gosh, I really need a day off. This club's been trying to wring the blood and tears out of me the past couple of weeks."
Lee Jiwon was the most senior in terms of age and status at Playlights—one of the most popular strip clubs in Seoul—also Kyunghee's current work place. The club's prime location—being at the edge of the Entertainment District—was the central hub for trendy bars and clubs, karaoke hotspots, restaurants, nightlife, urban shops and live entertainment.
Jiwon had turned 31 this year, and had been with Playlights for 5 years. Even their manager had to give her some face. She was the only dancer the rest of the staff didn't have the courage tobullshit. If it hadn't been for Jiwon who reached out first and took Kyunghee under her wings, Kyunghee couldn't imagine staying at Playlights past the 6 months mark. But it had now been 2.5 years.
The realization hit Kyunghee hard.
In a blink of an eye, she had stayed with Playlights for 2.5 years. It was supposed to be a temporary position, but it had somehow become permanent. The club did provide her with a decent paycheque, arguably better than most places these days.
"You don't have any plans on Sunday, do you?" Jiwon asked as Kyunghee shook her head.
"I'm all yours for the taking, love." Kyunghee winked flirtatiously.
"It's a date then!" Jiwon cheered as she patted her face with a fresh layer of powder before calling over her shoulder, "Hey, does anyone know what's been going on lately? Why are there so many uniforms hanging out in front of The Narrow?"
Across the streets from Playlights and a further way down east, through a narrow, dim-lit alley—dubbed "The Narrow"—was a completely different jurisdiction that was not made for the faint-hearted. The Narrow was a gateway to Ansil Road where strip clubs, underground fight clubs, gambling dens, adult theaters, love motels and sex shops populated. Crossing over The Narrow was like stepping into a whole new world, a whole new atmosphere—the Capital to Crime City.
Playlights was a mild club compared to the clubs on the other side.
For this reason, there were always police cars hanging around the entrance to The Narrow, though activity had ramped up a lot more in the recent weeks.
"Jiwon unnie! Didn't you hear?" The girl sitting on Jiwon's other side piped in enthusiastically, grasping at the chance to gossip.
There was never a dull moment in the ladies' dressing room.
At the moment, there were three dancers in the dressing room, including Kyunghee. The dressing room had two small, exclusive bathrooms to the left. The right side was lined with dressing tables and lighted mirrors for make-up application while clothes rack and cubby holes were situated at the back wall. A variety of cosmetics and skincare were spilled on top of the dressing table in a heap of mess.
The dancers tended to leave their cosmetics in a mess and would often used one another's, resulting in a whole load of catty drama, especially when one girl used half a bottle of another girl's expensive cream. It was a reason for Kyunghee to keep her things in her bag. She didn't understand why they continued to leave their make-up and products lying around haphazardly, knowing it was going to end with two girls fighting.
History taught nothing, apparently.
Typically, nobody came into the dancers' dressing room. The bartenders and waitresses had their own room across the hall. Like high-school, it separated the two sides. The bartenders and waitresses had somehow formed a clique while the dancers were left on their own. Kyunghee didn't have a problem with the bartenders and waitresses, but some of them did think they were morally superior because they didn't have to wear skimpy clothes and showed skin on stage.
Naturally, the dancers didn't like the bartenders and waitresses. Whether you were a waitress, bartender or a dancer at Playlights, some customers didn't give a damn. Just because you were a bartender or a waitress didn't mean you were automatically exempted from off-colour jokes. But unlike bartenders and waitresses, the dancers couldn't refuse a drink from a customer. It was a rule they had to adhere to because it was how the club made money—selling overpriced drinks that didn't give you wings.
That was also another reason why dancers didn't like the bartenders and waitresses. They were the one coaxing customers to loosen the wallet and spend more for the club, so it didn't make any sense they were condescended because of a societal label.
"Hear what? If you have tea then just spill it, Harin," Jiwon said in exasperation, secretly exchanging an annoyed look with Kyunghee. She didn't like the whole it's-secret-but-I-can't-wait-to-tell-you actthat Harin adopts on a daily basis.
"Do you know the famous travel and lifestyle vlogger, Yiseul? Last week she was filming and taking some pictures right in the narrow alley itself. Word on the street is that she offended a gang member while she was vlogging, got into huge troubles, and is currently in the hospital."
"Isn't she from a rich family? I'm pretty sure Mommy and Daddy can foot the hospital bill," Jiwon sarcastically commented.
"Exactly. It's because she comes from a rich family. Her parents have some connection to the city council. Yiseul is their only child and they spoil her to no end. Her parents have been pressuring the police to shut down Ansil Road as a form of justice for their daughter's injuries."
"Pah!" Jiwon snickered. "How are they going to do that? Not even the mayor himself wants to get involved with Ansil Road and its crime lords. So much for having money but no brain."
"What—What is Ansil Road?" A soft-spoken, timid voice interrupted the conversation.
Everyone's attention turned towards the mousy owner of the voice. It was then that they noticed there was a fourth person who had been with them in the dressing room all this time—a new face at that. Kyunghee took inventory of the delicate and child-like features of the new girl. She was young; perhaps much too young and naive for a club like Playlights. Her black hair was braided in pigtails. The white dress shirt was semi-buttoned, plaided red mini-skirt rode above the thighs, completed with fishnet stockings and platform Mary Jane heels. It was the whole school-girl, Lolita concept that fulfilled certain customers' fetishes.
Kyunghee was not a fan of the get-up. The outfit made her sick. Grown men should be attracted to someone their own age, but she knew there would be the niche customers paying big bucks for it. Even if she didn't agree with it on principle, this was the way the club operated. Then again, her willing employment further solidified she really had no principles.
"Goodness, what year were you born in?" Harin was skeptical. "How can you not know what Ansil Road is?"
The little dove lowered her eyes shyly. "I'm—I don't go out often."
"You're the new girl. Where in the world did Bongsuk find you? You're not gonna survive here being that naive, sweetie."
"Cut it out, Harin," Kyunghee cut in defensively. Logically she agreed with Harin, but for some reason, she was protective of the timid, little dove with the bright eyes, naivety and fear. Little dove gave Kyunghee a grateful look. "What's your name?"
"My name is Taehee."
"Cute, but when customers ask for your name, what do you say?" Jiwon arched an eyebrow.
Taehee quickly corrected, "Tara."
Harin snickered as she dabbed herself with setting powder. Taehee bit her lower lip, eyes downcast, grasping the edge of her mini-skirt in discomfort.
"How old are you?" Kyunghee ignored the patronizing reaction. Her voice was warm and inviting.
"I'm...nineteen."
Kyunghee held her breath, something gnawed at her conscience, even though it hadn't been her who hired this inexperienced little dove.
Harin rolled her eyes, picking up a lash curler. "Tch, everyone's been nineteen once."
"If you have nothing good to say then keep quiet." Jiwon's silent glare instantly made Harin swallow the rest of her discontented ramblings.
Kyunghee swiveled the chair to fully face Taehee. "That makes you the youngest one here. My name is Kyunghee, or Stella by stage name. This is Jiwon unnie and Harin. If there's something you're not sure about, we're here to answer your questions."
Taehee blinked in mild surprise, clearly not expecting the offering of help. A tiny grin made its way onto her lips as she nodded. "Thank you, Kyunghee unnie."
There were so many questions at the back of Kyunghee's mind. Why are you here? Why aren't you in school? Why did you throw away your future for this place? Of course, it wasn't any of her business to poke around other people's life story, but she simply felt bad. What if Taehee had been her little sister? Kyunghee certainly wouldn't want to see her little sister working for a club like Playlights.
There must have been something in her eyes that gave away her real thoughts because Jiwon reached over and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"Looks like my break's over." Harin pouted, pushing the chair back and rose to her feet. There was impatience and boredom in the tone of voice, as if she couldn't be bothered to be part of this social niceties. She abruptly stopped at the doorway, paused for a full ten seconds, before turning towards Taehee in an unexpected turn of events. "What are you still doing sitting here? I'm sure Bongsuk would want you to familiarize yourself with front of the house."
"Oh! Yes! Coming!" Taehee bounced to her feet, dutifully scurrying in Harin's wake.
Jiwon turned to Kyunghee with a questioning look. "You okay?"
Kyunghee nodded with a faint smile. "I'm alright."
Jiwon sighed with pity, staring at the empty doorway. "Whatever her reason for ending up here is—poor girl. But it seems like you've already taken a liking towards her? You're defending her, Miss I-like-to-keep-it-to-myself."
"She simply reminds me of an old friend." Kyunghee turned back to the mirror, fixing the purple wig on her head.
As part of their jobs, the girls would often wear varying styles of wigs to perform. Not to mention they had stage names as a precaution to personal safety. Although they had a burly and reliable bouncer, it only took one bad apple to ruin the bunch. When people got drunk, they got aggressive.
"She's...too young."
"Unfortunately, in this industry, age means everything. The younger you are, the higher your price tag. There are some sickos out there who wouldn't think twice." Jiwon paused as her face turned serious. "Kyunghee, you're also young. You're only twenty-six, unlike the old hag that I am. You can still leave this life. It's not too late for you. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Go back to school. Go do something you love. Go and be selfish."
Kyunghee grinned, her dimples punching deep, amber flecks shimmering in her eyes. "Unnie, how can I leave you here all by yourself? You're so used to having me around now. You'll be sad if I'm gone," she teased, though she was deeply touched by Jiwon's care.
Jiwon smiled ruefully.