[04] Moyo wa Jua: Heart of the Sun

[pinkelatta]

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04


Micky’s apartment was an upscale villa-type development located in Hannam-dong. Micky keyed in the passcode on the digital doorlock and swung the door open to reveal a spacious marble-floored interior hung with opulent chandeliers and art on the walls.

“You can sleep in the guestroom,” Micky informed Jiyong. “Clothes, towels, toothbrush… you can use these for now. We can get you some new ones of your own tomorrow. Bathroom’s through that way.”

Jiyong couldn’t thank him enough as he reveled in the warm shower, too shy to use the bathtub right away. The fluffy clean towel against his skin felt so luxurious that he was ready to put all the drama of the last 36 hours behind him - and forget it forever. And he knew he wasn’t imagining things when he collapsed into the queen-sized guestbed - he had never in his life slept on such a wonderful mattress, in such high quality sheets.

When he next opened his eyes, the sun was streaming in through the windows, and the clock on the bedside table told him it was midday. He quickly roused himself, made the bed and exited the room, painfully aware that he didn’t know his host’s schedule.

Micky was at the bar-styled kitchen island, dressed in bermudas and a white wifebeater that showed off his trim physique and toned arms. A tattoo that had been concealed by the slacks the night before winked from his calf. He sat talking softly to a man whom Jiyong could only describe as ‘gorgeous’ in a very pretty way. With his long bleached fringe pinned away from his forehead, the rest of his hair fell softly around his face, creating the effect of a frame around a work of art. Jiyong couldn’t decide if the hairdo could be considered unstyled, he certainly managed to make it look stylish. Even so, he retained an aura of masculinity about his broad shoulders, underscored by graceful tattoos that peeped out of his wifebeater and looped over his shoulderblades. He was hovering over a number of pots on the open-concept stove, stirring one then another, and they all combined to produce a delicious aroma that made Jiyong’s stomach rumble louder than he would have liked.

“Uh. Hi,” he started.

Both men’s gazes turned toward him.

“You’re awake,” smiled Micky, “Come meet my partner. This is Jaejoong hyung.”

“Hi,” Jaejoong’s voice was airy and gentle, but had a warm timbre that made Jiyong want to hear more of it. His wish was granted almost immediately.

“I hope you like gyeran-chim. You can wash up first, the food will be ready by the time you’re done.”

Jiyong could do nothing but nod mutely and follow the instructions he’d been given.

The table was set and both Micky and Jaejoong were seated when he came out, so he joined them with a bow of thanks.

The food was delicious, contrary to Jiyong’s expectations of the tattooed flower boy’s culinary prowess. It was no surprise then that it all disappeared much too soon, but instead of leaving the table right away, Jiyong was asked to demonstrate his knowledge of English and Chinese. It didn’t take long to discover that Micky spoke English very well indeed. He was also quizzed about his hobbies, and both men seemed delighted to find out that he loved music.

“Jaejoong will take you shopping today, and get you a haircut. Then he’ll take you down to our bar, so you can observe and learn the ropes before starting work. Jaejoong will teach you everything you need to know. You’re learning from the best, Jiyong, so make sure you learn well.”

“I’ll definitely do my best,” promised Jiyong, practically shining with joy in the knowledge that he’d somehow managed to procure accommodation, a job, a benefactor and a mentor all at one fell swoop. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Jiyong volunteered to do the dishes after the meal, insisting that he had to earn his keep somehow.

Micky and Jaejoong emerged from the other bedroom looking like superstars. Jaejoong had his hair combed out, no longer pinned up, shades obscuring his eyes and wrapped in a woolly angora sweater with an asymmetrical neckline that would have looked frumpy on someone else. His legs were wrapped in black jeans that drew attention to their long slim lines. Micky had on blue jeans and a black blazer, open at the front to reveal a white v-necked t-shirt that highlighted his collarbones, and if he hadn’t styled his hair since waking up, it didn’t matter because it looked hot just the way it was.

“Let’s go.”

Jiyong felt extremely self-conscious walking next to them in his borrowed t-shirt and jeans, even if only to the basement carpark. They both had broad shoulders, and he wasn’t as tall as they were, resulting in him having to roll up the sleeves and the hems of his jeans. Jiyong felt glad for his stolen boots - at least they looked marginally more stylish than he could make the rest of his outfit.

Micky dropped him and Jaejoong off in Apgujeong, and Jaejoong wasted no time hustling him into what looked like an upmarket hair salon. The people there seemed to know Jaejoong well, greeting him casually and exchanging pleasantries of the sort that suggested that they hung out together often.

“New boy?” asked the stylist who came to attend to them.

“We’ll see,” Jaejoong answered. “Keep the bangs, I think they suit him. I want a fresh concept.”

Jaejoong didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, as Jiyong soon found out. He moved like a whirlwind through one shop after another, pulling out items and chucking them at Jiyong who would then try them on one by one. Wherever they went, the sales assistants knew him, and conjured up one-of-a-kind items from the backs of their stores. That said, Jaejoong was also one hell of a stylist - once he’d had Jiyong’s body type and preferred style figured out, he was putting together looks that had Jiyong gawking at himself in the mirror and the shop assistants casting him envious glances. By dinnertime, Jiyong was dragging twelve bags filled with custom-fitted clothes, shoes and accessories around. Jiyong didn’t even dare to ask who was paying for them all.

After they had taken dinner, Jaejoong called a cab that took them directly to the bar where he’d first met Micky the night before. Micky was nowhere to be seen as they entered the establishment from a back door guarded by a strapping man who bowed stiffly to Jaejoong. Once inside, they dodged into a large dressing room that was buzzing with activity. Most of the boys from the previous night’s supper outing were there, in various states of dress. Without exception, they called greetings when they saw Jaejoong, and Jiyong received friendly smiles.

Jiyong took in the sleek dressing room, furnished with labeled wardrobes facing a long row of mirrors. The mirrors were identical, but the things sitting on each vanity spoke volumes about its regular user.

A large bouquet of deep red roses sat in front of Kai’s mirror, obscuring everything else on his vanity. Kai himself was nowhere to be seen.

A collection of hats lined the top of Taeyang’s, a stuffed toy dog given pride of place on the countertop, some jewelry strung around its neck. A small pile of CDs with a card on top lay in the middle of the surface, along with a couple of velvet boxes that still had gift ribbons attached. The owner of the vanity was standing to one side of the dressing room, earphones plugged securely in each ear and dancing silently by himself to music no one else could hear.

Daesung’s mirror was plastered with numerous notes on fancy stationery, many with little hearts inscribed on them. An assortment of skincare products lined the counter, along with Doraemon figurines. There was even a Doraemon throw over his chair with matching cushion. Daesung was standing in front of his open wardrobe wearing only his boxers and buttoning his shirt while talking to Jaebum.

Joon sat at his place slurping up a steaming bowl of ramyeon even as it tried its hardest to fog up the mirror, to which was tacked a picture of pop star Rain. He looked like he was studying for a test while at it, a textbook propped in front of his bowl.

Jaebum’s had a large ‘JB’ sticker pasted on his mirror, and a string of photographs with no common theme that Jiyong could detect. His open wardrobe was a mess, but Jiyong spotted a couple of pairs of designer sneakers he had coveted but never been able to buy.

A couple of other men whose names he didn’t know stood around, styling their hair or texting on their mobile phones. The air of camaraderie and joviality was inviting, and they were all talking nineteen to the dozen making wisecracks at each other while dressing up.

Jaejoong directed Jiyong to an unlabelled wardrobe and instructed him to hang up only half of the items they had bought. Meanwhile, he went over to the other boys and tweaked their clothing, undoing a button here, switching out a belt there, and telling Jaebum to shine his leather shoes again. Moving to Taeyang, he yanked an earphone out of his ears and spoke quietly to him such that no one else could hear their conversation.

He moved back to Jiyong after giving Taeyang a brotherly clap on the back, and removed a couple of items of clothing from the ones he had just hung up.

“Change into these,” was the mellifluous command.

Jiyong looked around and deduced that he was expected to change here. They were all guys after all, so he removed his clothing and changed into what he had been told to wear. It was nothing fancy, just a simple black top and black skinny jeans, topped off with a fitted blazer. The way it fit him, however, gave off a whole different vibe than the usual t-shirt and jeans combo.

“Come here,” Jaejoong fished a scarf out of one of the bags and tied it around Jiyong’s wrist. He knelt in front of Jiyong and tucked the hems of the jeans into his boots.

“I think we’re set. It’s going to be a long evening, but I think you will learn a lot. Are you any good at drinking?”

Jiyong honestly had no idea, but he nodded confidently.

“Great. Let’s start with that.” He made Jiyong follow him to another room, which had plush velvet sofas, soft lights, karaoke facilities and its own mini-bar. A crash course on the names of the different types of liquors and spirits ensued. He explained mixers and wine vintages, chasers and shots, garnishes and bouquets, until Jiyong was quite sure he was drunk without having touched a single drop of alcohol. Then, he allowed Jiyong to try a little of some of the combinations he had mentioned.

“Just a little. It’s still early. And it’s not good to mix too many different drinks in one night, it really knocks you out. You’ll eventually learn how to refuse drinks without offending the customer, but the bottom line is still that you need to hold your drink well.”

He then proceeded to show Jiyong how to pour liquor for the customers, while observing the appropriate etiquette for different age groups, relationships and genders. Jaejoong demonstrated the proper way to propose and receive toasts, how to proffer and receive glasses of drinks, how to angle his head when drinking in front of seniors or superiors, how to clink glasses in a manner that was not vulgar. Jiyong knew that there was a specific etiquette for tea ceremonies, but it baffled his mind that there were so many rules to consider for alcohol too, right down to the way he held his wrist and how much of his wrist he exposed. Thankfully, he was a much faster learner when it came to such things than he was with academic information.

By the time this first lesson was over, and they returned across the hallway to the dressing room, the level of activity had picked up. The boys were no longer chatting idly, but primping the last details of their appearances in their mirrors, popping breath mints and spraying cologne.

A commotion could be heard through the open dressing room door as Kai managed to burst in, looking casual in streetwear and assisted by stocky security personnel.

“God, they’re crazy!” he let out, as he dropped into his chair and dropped a small pile of gifts on his vanity, never mind that some of the gaily wrapped trinkets rolled over the bouquet of roses and fell onto the floor. “I swear, I don’t know how the celebrities do it, cos I’m already feeling the heat, and it’s just a few girls.”

“Did they grope you again?” inquired Daesung, eyes twinkling in mirth.

“They stretched my favourite tshirt, hyung,” the pouty-lipped looker complained.

“That’s what happens when you come in late,” Jaejoong cut in.

Kai snapped to attention, leaping up from his chair and and bowing at the older man, “Oh! Jaejoong-hyung! I didn’t see you! I’m sorry I’m late today! It won’t happen again!”

“That’s what you said last time. Get changed quickly,” was Jaejoong’s dry response. “I hope you’ve eaten a proper meal.”

Kai’s face took on a nervousness that Jiyong hadn’t seen before even as he murmured the affirmative, while Joon and Daesung quickly stepped up to help him with his wardrobe.

“Punctuality, Jiyong,” intoned Jaejoong at a volume that the other boys couldn’t hear. “Being on time gives you more time to get your head in the game.”

Jiyong nodded even though he didn't fully understand.

“Come on, Jiyong, we’ve got to go out front. Oh, and you need a name.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t recommend that you use your real name when you’re starting out. It helps to create some mystery, and it will give you some privacy. Do you have a preferred nickname?”

“G-Dragon,” Jiyong reached for the moniker he’d dreamed of using for his music one day. “Gureumeul gareugo dagaon G-Dragon.”

“G-Dragon,” Jaejoong rolled the name on his tongue, trying it out. “I like it. And keep that tagline. Got a nice ring to it.”

A smile shifted Jaejoong’s lips, clearly pleased with his protégé’s creativity. “We’ll use GD for short.”

They entered the lounge, and Jiyong was immediately floored by the luxe décor. Painfully hip chandeliers that looked like faceted, glowing onyx orbs illuminated the upholstered walls, plush black velvet couches wrapped around gleaming dark glass-topped tables that were separated by faceted divider panes. A bandstand stood to one side, fronted by what Jiyong supposed must be a small elevated dancefloor. On the other, an angular bar that looked carved of solid onyx took pride of place, with geometric designer barstools studding its façade. The main entrance to the room was situated next to the bar, ensuring that those who entered would see the bar first, before anything else. The burgundy carpet was so deep and soft Jiyong could feel himself sinking into it with every step.

“Wow,” Jiyong couldn’t resist letting out a low whistle of admiration.

“You like it?” Jaejoong couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice. “I designed it.”

“You’re so talented, Jaejoong-hyung. When I grow up, I want to be like you.”

Jaejoong chuckled and steered him to the bar. “Sit here, like this. Cross your legs. Back straight. We’re gonna have a couple drinks here, you and me. And a long talk. But you will need to excuse me every now and then to greet our clients - I’m not here everyday, you see.”

They began talking about Jiyong’s music, as a jazz band entered from the same door they had, took up their positions at the bandstand and started work. The first customers began trickling in, a small group of girls in tight dresses and expensive-looking jewellery. Jaejoong ignored them, but Jiyong did not fail to notice that a couple of them began whispering after seeing him seated where he was.

Kai, Joon and another boy named Taemin came into the lounge, and Kai went to sit down with the group of girls, taking Joon with him. Quiet laughter was soon  heard from the group, no doubt a result of something Kai had said. Taemin drifted over to the bar, asked for a drink and joined in the conversation.

Jaebum came out alone in a moment, making straight for the other entrance and holding it open for a heavily made-up middle-aged lady who came through the doors alone. Jiyong could have sworn she had washed her tailored skirt-suit in floral perfume, so strong was the scent. Allowing her to take his arm, they moved to one of the booths at the back of the room. Jaejoong smiled at her as she passed, and she returned it very briefly. Jiyong felt himself being appraised in the short three seconds that she had her eyes on him, but her attention was quickly directed back to Jaebum.

Jiyong watched as the bar staff brought out bottles of liquor and delivered them to the various tables.

Taemin’s attention was claimed by the appearance of a group of young men and women who decided to stay close by the bar, evidently celebrating someone’s birthday. Again, Jaejoong paid this party no heed.

Daesung appeared then, arriving to escort a pair of gorgeous ladies into a private room beyond the lounge with a toothpaste ad-worthy smile. Before disappearing, however, they stopped to exchange hugs and air-kisses with Jaejoong with little exclamations of “Oppa! You’re here today!” and “You have to come to the next concert!” Jaejoong nodded and smiled, promising to do exactly that only if they would stop losing any more weight, chucked them affectionately on the chins and shooed them off with Daesung.

Jiyong got the distinct feeling that while the lounge didn’t feel busy, everyone was occupied.

A member of the wait staff came in through the door in the back and approached Jaejoong. A discreet conversation ensued, in which Jaejoong nodded again and again before giving the waiter an instruction, which he promptly disappeared to execute.

“Come, Jiyong, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You may leave your drink there,” Jaejoong picked up his own drink and led the way through the back door. The waiter from earlier came by with a tray holding a bottle Jaejoong hadn’t shown him earlier, with three crystal glasses. Jaejoong motioned that Jiyong should take it and follow him. Halfway down the hallway, he stopped before a numbered door and knocked lightly.

“This is our premier private room,” Jaejoong informed Jiyong softly. “Be confident.”

Taeyang answered the door, and stood aside to let them in. It became clear that Taeyang was not alone in the spacious suite.

A man not thirty years of age was draped imperiously on the couch, clad in an all-white ensemble. Long fingers clasped comfortably around the knee of lanky legs that were crossed casually, hinting at an impressive height. He was the kind of handsome people turned to look at twice, simply because once didn’t do him justice. Yet amidst the onslaught of aquiline nose, chiseled jaw and sensuous lips, the feature that pinned Jiyong in place like a butterfly on minuten, was his piercing gaze - preternaturally dark pupils that seemed to be constantly aflame.

Jaejoong smiled warmly at him and went right over. Upon seeing him, the white-clad man stood and opened his arms in a gesture of welcome. They exchanged a manly hug.

“Seunghyun-ssi, how have you been?”

“Oh, I’m good. Jaejoong-ssi, you’ve been keeping rather well yourself, I see.” A broad smile highlighted the handsome features of the other man. His voice was gravelly and unusually deep, and Jiyong could imagine it struck fear in people when used harshly.

“No, I get by,” Jaejoong replied - a tad coquettishly, if Jiyong wasn’t hearing things wrongly. “It’s different when you have your own businesses, you know that. I’m getting so haggard these days.”

Taeyang interjected, “Don’t listen to him, Seunghyun-ssi, I swear this man drinks from the fountain of youth.”

“Yes, he does, he hasn’t aged a day in six years,” agreed Seunghyun.

“Ever the glib tongue,” Jaejoong rolled his eyes in mock deprecation. “That’s why I brought you your favourite wine.”

Jiyong stepped forward, seeing that this was his cue to bring the wine to the table. Jaejoong made no move to take the wine, and Jiyong realised that it was a test - to see what he had learned from his earlier lesson. He set the tray down silently, and took the wine bottle to the man known as Seunghyun-ssi to inspect the vintage as he had been taught.

“You spoil me,” was Seunghyun’s verdict, addressed to Jaejoong.

“Nonsense, you know you wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

Jiyong uncorked the bottle and began pouring it into the glasses, one for each person present except himself, and began serving them in the order Jaejoong had specified while teaching.

“Seunghyun-ssi, I don’t wish to be rude, but as you can see, I haven’t finished my own glass of wine. Do allow GD here to do the honours for me, won’t you?”

Seunghyun looked Jiyong full in the face for the first time. “GD, you say?”

Jiyong’s heart almost stopped beating, so fearful he felt being directly addressed. He could have sworn there was a golden glint in the dark eyes turned on him, but only for a moment.

“Short for G-Dragon, Seunghyun-ssi. Gureumeul gareugo dagaon G-Dragon.” He made a little bow, not even sure where he’d gotten the idea.

The appreciative sparkle in the other man’s eye returned instantly, but the next comment was not addressed to him. “You’ve certainly got an eye for the unique, Jaejoong-ssi.”

“I wouldn’t dare take any credit,” rejoined Jaejoong smoothly. “He’s Micky’s baby. GD, do me a favour, won’t you - that glass of wine?”

Jiyong picked up the indicated glass and raised it, “My pleasure. To the rest of your evening?”

“To a wonderful evening,” agreed Taeyang, clinking glasses with Jiyong and waiting on Seunghyun.

Seunghyun added his glass to the toast, “Mine’s already begun.”

“What can I say, great minds think alike,” Jaejoong brought the lip of his glass to theirs, and they all took generous sips of the wine.

Two glasses of wine went quickly, and Jaejoong showed himself to be a consummate conversationalist, always evoking laughter and making everyone feel good about themselves. Or maybe it was the wine, Jiyong couldn’t tell. It was the most he had heard Taeyang speak so far, too, and he proved to be a witty and philosophical personality.

As Jiyong downed the last of his second glass, Jaejoong rose from his seat looking genuinely regretful and bowing deeply to Seunghyun. “My apologies, Seunghyun-ssi, but if you’ll excuse me… much as I’d love to stay, other duties beckon.”

“That’s a pity,” purred Seunghyun, “it’s been a while. You should take it easier, Jaejoong-ssi. Still, I understand, duty calls.”

The taller man stood too, and Jaejoong moved to give him a quick hug before pulling back and bowing again, deeply. He cast a meaningful look at Jiyong over Seunghyun’s shoulder that clearly intimated that he should follow.

Standing and moving to Jaejoong’s side, Jiyong made his farewells too, shaking Seunghyun’s hand formally. “A pleasure meeting you, Seunghyun-ssi.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine,” assured the broad-shouldered man, his handshake lending truth to his words.

Jaejoong opened the door and left the room, Jiyong following on his heels.

“Very well done,” complimented Jaejoong as they moved down the corridor back to the lounge. “You have a bright future ahead of you, GD.”

Jiyong wasn’t even sure what he had done to merit the praise, but he glowed anyway.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of conversation. Jaejoong moved from table to table like a butterfly, a hug here, a handshake there, always smiling, knowing everyone by name and dropping the formalities in accordance not with age, but what seemed to make them most comfortable. Jiyong observed that he was able to converse easily on any topic, from yacht prices to the best Japanese restaurants in town, empathizing with a recent illness to a discussion on up and coming Korean artists exhibiting in the city’s art galleries. He exuded comfort, but was himself never overly relaxed despite the many glasses of wine that were already beginning to make Jiyong lightheaded. He could see why the customers warmed up to Jaejoong easily and were always reluctant to let him go and move on to the next table when the time came, but he would always disentangle himself politely and ensure that another of the boys was continuing to entertain them well. Micky stopped briefly at one of the tables they were at, too, seemingly also making his rounds with a glass of wine in his hand.

At the conclusion of their tour of the occupied tables, Jaejoong withdrew to the dressing room with Jiyong in tow. Easing into a chair and bidding Jiyong do the same, his face took on a grave expression.

“Jiyong-ah,” he began, “this is what we do for a living. We invest time in other people to make them happy. They come to us to forget about their troubles for a few hours, and we see to it that the hours they spend here are carefree.”

Jiyong nodded his understanding.

“It doesn’t come easily - conversation is an art. You’re blessed with the ability to naturally talk to people, you’re smart and learn quickly. But the job doesn’t come without its hazards too. You can see that we have to move from guest to guest, drink with them and see to their needs. Every guest’s needs are unique, and we strive to always make them feel welcome, confident, happy. The only thing that all our guests have in common is that they demand from us the utmost confidentiality. Do you understand, Jiyong? Nothing that happens within these walls leaves the premises. This keeps our high profile guests comfortable to return, because we never compromise on privacy. This is what makes us the best in the business.”

Jaejoong’s face had an edge to it that told Jiyong he was dead serious, and he hastened to assure Jaejoong that he would keep their confidence with his life.

“But because we are the best in the business, we never treat our boys shoddily,” A smile returned to Jaejoong’s face. “As we have treated you. We believe in treating our boys well because a happy entertainer is a confident entertainer. Confidence makes a man charming, to men and women alike. They come to feel the warmth of your charm - women to fall for it, and men to wish they had it.”

“Do you… um…” Jiyong felt a bit flustered at the question he wanted to ask. He was beginning to understand the workings of the business. “Do we have to, uh…”

“Sexual favours? Jaejoong guessed at the topic weighing on Jiyong’s mind. “We do get propositioned, yes. But the policy we maintain is that this is not our trade. We do not run a brothel, although we do have a couple of private rooms at your disposal. It is entirely your choice whether you will grace a guest with your time, and how he or she will compensate you for it. You have every right to refuse, and our security personnel will back you up on that. As far as Micky and I are concerned, your working hours are from 10pm to 3am. Most of the boys come in earlier so that they can avoid the general crowding outside in the evening, and have plenty of time to prepare.”

“What about money?” Jiyong wanted to know.

“Ah, money. I hate to talk about money, because it’s hard to put a price on a good time. But it is a business, so I leave it to Micky.”

Micky entered the dressing room with a glass of wine just then.

“There you are,” Jiyong had seen Jaejoong smile at people all night, but the smile he bestowed on Micky was different. “Come and explain to Jiyong about the money while I go get a drink.”

Micky took Jaejoong’s place in the chair opposite Jiyong. “Jaejoong hates talking about money - he thinks it’s vulgar. I say it’s a fact of life; you can’t live without it. I’ll be honest with you - we do not publish our prices. We do not advertise. We run the business purely by word of mouth, and cater to a very exclusive clientele. You will not need to worry about money matters because it will be settled by our staff, overseen by me, before you even meet the guest. You do not need to ask for payment personally, nor will the guests haggle with you. Neither you nor the guests will have to think about such issues while you entertain them, and this translates into a much more enjoyable time.”

Jiyong marveled at the ingenuity of this system - he could see that this made it harder for an entertainer to discriminate against his clients by how much they were willing to pay.

“That said, the fee for the company of each entertainer does differ - a more popular one naturally commands a higher fee. You will receive half of this fee, to be paid out monthly. Some guests tip generously if you have been great company. I won’t hold back these tips from you - I’ll give you every cent of the tips you earn. You will receive a generous clothing allowance, because your appearance is an investment to my business. You may receive presents or even love letters - you may do with them what you will,” he waved a hand vaguely at the rose bouquet on Kai’s dressing table, and the notes stuck to Daesung’s mirror suddenly made sense.

“I trust Jaejoong will have briefed you on our policy regarding extra services?” Micky’s eyebrows were raised.

“You mean, uh… Well, yes.”

“Such requests can be made through our booking service. You will be informed, and you have the right to reject the guest if you are uncomfortable with it. If you do not wish to receive any such requests - some of the boys prefer not to - you can inform Jaejoong or me. Still, I generally encourage our boys to keep an open mind - you never know what opportunities may arise. In the event of a conflicting booking, you will be asked to choose which guest you prefer to entertain. You may sometimes be asked to accompany guests overseas or to private events - these will be dealt with on a case to case basis.”

Jaejoong came back into the room with a glass of what looked like plain water, and pulled up a chair to join Jiyong and Micky. “You will not be allowed to contact any guests personally, and guests are aware that they should not ask for your personal contact information. If you receive any such requests, we ask that you inform us so that we can deal with the guest appropriately.”

“That’s why we encourage you to use a pseudonym,” Jaejoong added. “So that you will not receive unwanted attention during your personal time.”

“So, Jiyong,” Micky leaned back in his chair. “Would you like to take some time to think about it?"

“I…” Jiyong shook his head. It was easy money, and he would be a fool to refuse. “No. It’s fine. I can do it.”

“Then, welcome aboard, Jiyong,” Micky stood up and stretched out a hand.

Jaejoong extended a warm handshake too. “Welcome to Club Ciél, Jiyong.”

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