I was at a bar, having drinks with my manager, Gil Shinil, and my friend, Kang Bora. A few hours ago, I successfully secured the deal with the company as their model, which included several benefits! So, to celebrate, Gil Shinil and Kang Bora made me come here, practically forcing me to treat them. Gil Shinil, because he's my manager, and Kang Bora, because she's been my mental support for years.
I couldn't argue with that logic.
We sat at the counter, perched atop leather barstools, drinks in our hands. Bora was giggling, chatting up a flustered Gil Shinil. She has had about three glasses of strong drinks, and the effects are showing on her flushed face and wobbling body. I felt like a third wheel, watching those two flirt shamelessly.
"Hey, you two," I say, swirling the contents of my near-empty glass. "Why don't you two get a room and save me, and everyone else, from your PDA?" I scrunch my nose in disgust, emphasising my point. Kang Bora and Gil Shinil aren't together, but they've slept together quite a few times already. I know because I've received apology texts from Bora exactly ten times.
"Okayyyy," Kang Bora slurs, jumping up from her seat enthusiastically. Gil Shinil frowns, his face flushing a deeper red.
"No," he says sternly. Then lower so only Bora can hear, "Not now."
"Okay," she giggles again, forcing me to scrunch my face in disgust. This is why I refuse to get drunk. People become more shameless when they're high.
"That's it, I'm leaving," I mutter, standing up. I drop some crumpled bills for them, paying for their drinks. I don't care how much change I cast aside. I have to leave, fast, before those two start making out, like they did once before.
This is exactly why I should have kept my professional life separate from my personal life; if Gil Shinil is part of the former, and Kang Bora part of the latter.
Gil Shinil throws me an apologetic look over his shoulder, but doesn't try to stop me. That's fine. I don't want to stay anyway. The noisy bar had started to make my head throb, aching the way I hate. I should have gone to bed earlier last night. Maybe then I wouldn't have had a headache.
I don't have my car with me since Kang Bora had come to pick me up from the meeting. And with her being busy, I'm left with no choice but to walk home.
A whole of five miles on foot.
I grit my teeth at the thought. I don't have time to waste, so I might just grab a cab. Now, if only I could find one somewhere...
I walk a bit further down the street, away from the bar, hoping to spot a cab around the corner. There should be some lingering about this region, seeing how it's a commercial area full of people. The sidewalk is crowded by a group of tired individuals, also waiting for a ride. I pull my hat lower, hiding my face lest anyone recognize me. It's a good thing that many of them are busy with their phones, their gazes fixed on the screen. They don't notice me pushing through them, and if they do, they don't care to give me the time of their day.
Just then, the crowd moves, gasps, and inaudible words are pulled from them involuntarily. Everyone turns in one direction, facing whatever caught their attention. Frowning, I do the same, shifting my line of sight in curiosity, trying to see what's going on. And when most of them pull out their phones to record, I understand that whatever is happening is something serious.
I push through the crowd to get to the front, ignoring the angered protests from pedestrians who are recording for content. I don't have a problem with content creators, but when the air is crackling with the kind of tension you find in a tense atmosphere, where someone is getting beaten up, I hate it.
The chilling scream that breaks through my thoughts only serves to prove my worried suspicions.
I push through the crowd, finding myself right at the front. It takes me a moment to understand what is going on, and when I do, my jaw goes slack in surprise.
Two men in black are actively ganging up on someone, kicking him like their lives depend on it. Their faces are covered in masks, their hair hidden under baseball hats. Identification is impossible, but saving the victim is not. The number of people standing and watching is enough to overcome two men blinded by rage, but everyone is engrossed in filming content for their own social media.
I also watch, dazed and conflicted by the scene playing out in front of me. This feels like high school all over again, watching people with authority beat up someone weaker than them. Watching from the sidelines. Observing, but never helping.
That thought almost makes me throw myself into the fight to save the victim. But part of my mind is clouded by worry. Worry about getting hurt like I did in high school.
But now I know how to fight. I can defend myself.
Just as I was about to jump in to help, the victim's hood was yanked back by one of the attackers to reveal their hair and face to the public. I could practically see the malicious smile spreading across the attacker's face under that black cloth mask hiding his features, finding glee in the misfortune of his victim.
The crowd gasps even louder at the sight of the victim, his identity registering in their minds. Their jaws drop to the floor in panic and...something else I couldn't place.
But the attacker's dark elation is not what froze me. That's not why I felt horror, followed by a concerning delight creeping up my spine.
No, it was the white-blond hair sticking to the face I knew oh-so-well.
I never thought I'd be witnessing the day Ryu Jinsang gets beaten up by someone much stronger than him. The sight brings a crooked smile to my lips, frozen only by the vicious kick that lands on Jinsang's already tortured stomach.
Shit. He might die here if nobody stops them. I might hate Ryu Jinsang, but I don't want him to die. Not yet. Not before I give him a taste of his medicine.
I keep telling myself that is why I did what I did.
Without another thought, I launch forward, lunging for the attacker who was landing the most damage. I tackle him to the ground, teeth gritted in concentration. His companion looked startled, taken aback by my sudden intrusion.
I hadn't even realized that my hat had fallen off.
I land a swift blow to the assailant's temple, knocking him out cold. When I look up, I realize that the other one was staring at me with his jaw on the floor, staring at me with disbelief. It took me a few seconds to realize that my cover was blown.
Well, shit.
It doesn't take long for the companion to recover, and he dives at me with a snarl. I roll to the side, letting him fall over his unconscious friend. He finds himself tangled in his friend's limbs, unable to get up. I use that chance to jump at him, punching his face hard. He falls over his companion, unconscious. Now they match, with identical bruises on the sides of their faces.
I crowd silently gapes, the number of phones recording having increased drastically, but I pay them no mind. This will be on the news by tomorrow, and for now, I have to make a good impression on the media. They should think that I jumped in to save my weak co-worker, and certainly not because of a darker side of me that would have rather watched him get beaten to a pulp. Certainly not because I want to be the reason for his pain.
I walk towards Ryu Jinsang, keeping my expression cold. I let a hint of softness creep in for the cameras. Let them think we're friends. It will only help me when I ruin him further.
"You okay?" I ask, my voice carrying over the crowd. Ryu Jinsang's face is frozen in perplexity and utter shock, not expecting me to be his savior. I read the silent question in his eyes, but I refuse to answer it. Instead, I crouch over him, hesitantly holding out a hand to help him up. He takes it tentatively, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
When I pull him to his feet, I lean in to whisper in his ear. "That was fun to watch. But unfortunately, it wouldn't have been good for my image if I just stood there doing nothing."
"You selfish little fucker," he snarls. "I didn't need your help. "I'll show you—"
"You can try," I smirk smugly. "But now you know I can fight. Maybe even better than you ever could."
"You—"
"Let's take you to a hospital," I say out loud, cutting him off. "You need to get your injuries checked." And then lower, so only he could hear.
"Game on, Ryu Jinsang. Let's see who breaks who first."