stained glass: chapter 1
stained glass: chapter 1
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc
romance | drama | angst | AU | pg-13
+3, 210 words
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence. and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now. heh. beta-ed by the lovely yaoi_hoshi. :D
[ prologue]
--
One;
The air stank with the smell of sweat and alcohol, and Jaejoong - no, it’s Jaejin for now - stood in the middle of a small, raised platform that creaked when he stepped on it, a sorry excuse for a stage in the crowded club filled to the brim with men looking for satisfaction and delusion in the group of pretty-men that hosted the establishment. The band played a soft, jazzy melody as Jae hummed, dolled-up eyes scanning the semi-darkened room and ignoring the many pairs of lusty eyes that scoured his scantily clad figure like he was not even a human. Bile rose at the back of his throat, climbing steadily up until Jae could taste the bitter reminder of a shot of soju he shared with a customer before his turn to sing came up, and he gratefully slipped away from wandering hands that belonged to a straying husband whose lone wife was waiting for him to come home from supposed ‘overtime’.
Overtime, my ass, Jae thought as he nearly puked at the hungry leers the men threw his way, expecting to catch his wink or two. Jaejoong closed his eyes, withholding from satisfying them, and his eyes caught the familiar silhouette of Yoochun - Yoona - in the arms of a man twice their age. He held back the need to growl his displeasure when he saw the older man lewdly trail a hand up Yoochun’s exposed back, but the note kicked in and he transformed the shout into the heartfelt bellow of a soulful ballad - shocking everyone who wasn’t already looking into turning their eyes towards the stage. A spotlight shone from above, the heat almost melting the make-up layered on his face, and Jae nodded down in what he figured was an act of bashfulness. He could have snickered. There was nothing bashful or shy in his person - nothing remotely soft and feminine aside from the luscious curve of his lips and the almond-shaped eyes that were feathered with fake lashes and mascara. He made a grand gesture when the music climbed into a crescendo, claiming the audience’s attention and giving Yoochun the chance to slip out of the greasy customer’s arms - and when he came back down from the high note to a generous clapping of his admirers, he caught Yoochun’s nods of gratitude from a corner of his eyes and his heart felt at ease. He had done his job.
Here in Aknyeo there were two types of hostess - one who would take up any offer just to collect their tips, and one who didn’t have to take any offers because well, they still got their tips no matter what. It generally sucked to be the former, which was applicable to more than half of the drags of the club, since that meant they had to whore for a living. Jaejoong was grateful he was not one of those who had to sell their bodies to get enough money to live another day, but the same couldn't be said for Yoochun, and every night Jaejoong had to keep his eyes sharp in order to keep Yoochun out of trouble from the animals disguised as their customers. It did not help at all that Yoochun barely could say ‘no’ - he was a sucker for affection, and before Jaejoong could say ‘stop, you idiot, you’re going to get hurt’ Yoochun was already running towards the men like a moth to the flame.
Jaejoong inhaled deeply; it wasn’t easy to think of Yoochun and not to remember how they met. It was too dramatic to be forgotten, and Jaejoong never intended to forget it either. Yoochun had pulled him out of some deep shit he had managed to get into and he had saved Yoochun from the brink of death - literally so. Jaejoong owed Yoochun his life in more ways than one, and he had promised himself he wouldn’t let Yoochun get himself nearly killed again, because the last (first) time he had done it had almost scared Jaejoong into a cardiac arrest.
If he was to be honest to himself, the only reason he still stuck around Aknyeo was because of Yoochun. That boy needed protection, and Jaejoong, as feeble and delicate-looking as he was (but he thought he could a pack a punch or three if situation calls for it), was the only option Yoochun had. They were both homeless teens with fucked-up parents that had kicked them out of the house too early, not patient enough to wait for them to reconcile with raging teenage hormones.
Yoochun talked about his younger brother sometimes, when they got time to spare to chat before sleeping. Jaejoong didn’t like hearing about it - because then Yoochun would cry and Jaejoong knew he could do nothing to help. He hated the feeling of helplessness, he hated not being able to act and to make things better, but that didn’t mean he did anything to change it. Since he was 14, Jaejoong was used to running away from problems, and turning his back towards the ghost of his past. Jaejoong knew he was a sad excuse of a person - just like how the stage was made of plywood that would one day collapse under the weight of the men’s sins.
Another song played as if on cue, and this time it was an upbeat piece. The crowd moved to the narrow dance floor in front of the stage, the customers holding out their hands to their hostesses as the ‘girls’ giggled with excitement at the show of gentleman gallantry. Jae resisted from rolling his eyes, and moved to unhook the microphone from its stand instead. This song demanded him to dance a bit, and it was hard doing so while holding the immovable mic-stand. Jaejoong faked a smile when his gaze met with Mama’s eyes and saw her eyes changed into tiny, disapproving slits at his lack of enthusiasm. Jae tried to smile more convincingly, swaying his body to the music as he belted out a cheerful song of lovers meeting under the moonlight.
In the corner, Jaejoong saw Yoochun getting pulled back onto the lap of the same greasy man he saw earlier. His heart sank deep into his guts. Their life was a depressing imitation of a damaged tape that played in a loop without an end, Jaejoong thought sadly as the drums went ‘tak taktaktak tak taktaktak’ in the background.
*
Junsu felt his skin prickle with millions of goosebumps as he stepped into the shadow, pulling out the bike he had hidden earlier that afternoon as he watched his brother-in-law slip into his car and pull slowly out of the driveway. He knew where Donghoon was going - he had been out every other night for two months now and he would always come back with the same stinking smell sticking to his shirts, which Junsu had the most unfortunate task of washing the next day. Even if he had never had girlfriends before, Junsu knew the slight sweet perfume that he could sniff among the stench of Donghoon’s sweat belonged to a woman, a slut the bastard was fucking. There was no tell-tale lipstick mark though, but Junsu attributed it to the woman trying to be smart or perhaps, just advanced cosmetic technology. He gritted his teeth and collected his courage. He needed to see this woman and tell her to get her claws off someone else’s husband, because she was ruining not only a woman’s psyche, but destroying the future of three young kids who knew nothing of their father’s clandestine affair.
The 2003 Hyundai drove at a steady speed - not too slow yet not too fast - and Junsu was glad because he was cycling for dear life. His muscles ached after a few kilometers, and he also had to be sure to keep a safe distance, not wanting to blow his cover if Donghoon happened to catch a sight of him in his rear view mirror. Junsu thought he was pretty slick as he managed to maintain three cars between him and the yellow Hyundai, near enough not to lose the view of the car but sufficiently far to hide himself in the traffic. He thanked his lucky star (if he had one) for making the road rather busy that night, which meant Donghoon couldn't speed up and he didn’t have to cycle too hard.
His curiosity peaked when the car turned the corner into the seedy district of Itaewon. Junsu had heard many stories about the place - how men found whores to satisfy their sick urges in the many clubs scattering about the area. He slowed down before hopping off his bike when Donghoon’s car stopped in front of a convenience store. The man stepped out and went into the store for a while as Junsu looked in, hidden behind an ice-cream truck. He saw Donghoon going through the maze of the shelves inside the store, picking something up and checking out at the counter with haste. There was a distinct glimmer in Donghoon’s eyes, and even from the distance Junsu was standing at, he knew whatever Donghoon had just bought meant a lot to the man. He squinted and tried to make up the thing clutched in Donghoon’s hands, but it was too small and Junsu gave up after Donghoon began to move towards him, and his eyes widened in panic of getting discovered.
He recoiled in fear as Donghoon walked past him, plastering his back to the truck and wishing the bastard didn’t turn around to play ‘gotcha’ with him. Luckily for him, Donghoon walked straight ahead with a silly, almost besotted grin plastered on his face. Junsu breathed out in relief, but his heart started pounding again when he saw where the older man was heading. The neon-decorated sign was like a mocking statement of infidelity - a silhouette of a woman draping across the words like a snake would to its prey.
Aknyeo - Bad Girl. Huh.
Junsu moved out of the shadow he was hiding in, stepping bravely into the streetlight when he saw Donghoon slipping inside the guarded door. The bouncer didn’t even move a muscle, and Junsu thought it was obvious that his brother-in-law had been there countless of times to be regarded as one of the regulars. His lips tightened in disgust.
Junsu could hear the sound of music drifting out of the club - some jazz number with the a soft voice accompanying it, and for a second there he was tempted to go in and enjoy the serenade. He didn’t even realize he had walked straight up to the door, and only came back to his senses when a large hand clamped down on his shoulder and he yelped in surprise.
“Hey kid, you’re too young to get in. Fuck off,” the bouncer growled, and Junsu stepped back out of reach, nearly stumbling over himself. As he cartwheeled himself right back to standing, he smacked a hand into someone’s face and he turned around, gasping in horror. A group of men, seemingly dangerous in all the right senses of the word, stood in front of him. The man he had just smacked was looking utterly pissed and somewhat amused as the blood drained steadily from Junsu’s face.
“Oh my God, I’m s-so sorry!” he bubbled out quickly, bowing at the dangerous looking man. Someone at the back whispered something to the ‘Hyungnim’ and Junsu felt his stomach twist into itself - what a rotten luck he had to meet with the mafia on his first venture into the red-light district.
“No need. He’s just a boy,” the Hyungnim said coolly, patting Junsu’s head as if he was ten. Junsu didn’t care that he was treated like he was ten, he just wanted to live and not die uselessly without helping his sister and her kids first. Hyungnim moved towards the club and the bouncer moved aside to give him entrance, bowing in respect as the man walked past. Junsu heaved out a relieved sigh - that had been really close. The adrenaline was exhilarating but he didn’t need to experience that again, thank you very much.
And suddenly he wondered - what kind of man Donghoon was if he hanged out in such clubs with mafias crawling all over? Maybe his brother-in-law was part of an illegal organization too? Maybe he was a drug-dealer, or some kind of weapon smuggler, transporting guns and bombs to the North Koreans or the terrorists. Junsu shuddered, willing his imagination to die in his mind and never to come true.
*
The fourth song finished and Jaejoong was showered with appreciative claps and catcalls, the men calling his name as they requested him to sing another song. Jaejoong was about to answer with a flirty ‘if you guys give me lots of tips I will sing for you all night’ when Mama stepped onto the stage, her black dress billowing underneath her as she motioned for Jaejoong to wait at the back, a smile that meant business steadfast on her colored lips. The small crowd booed as Jaejoong descended the stage and slipped behind the curtain, and Jaejoong had to smile as Mama placated them with a cooing promise.
“Our Jaejinnie needs a bit of rest, gentlemen…Those heels could be really mean to us girls. Now if you could be patient for a bit, Jaejin-honey will come back later on after she gets her rest. What about letting our Jiwonnie sing for a bit? You’ll love her sweet voice, I promise!”
Jaejoong snorted as the crowd cheered again when the pretty-faced Jiwon stepped on and took the mic from Mama. So predictable.
Jaejoong slumped against the wall as he waited for Mama to come inside, and it wasn’t a long wait before she pushed the curtain and slipped into the poorly lit recess room. She motioned for Jaejoong to follow her through a narrow hallway, and a sick feeling knotted in his guts as he realized what that meant.
“Mama?” Jaejoong stopped her mid-track, voice shaky as he looked into the her eyes. The demi-woman sighed, reaching out to hold Jaejoong’s hand.
“Hyungnim requested you. I gave him the other girls’ names but he wants you and you know I can’t refuse him, Jaejinnie…please understand, okay? He won’t hurt you, I promise…Hyungnim is too much of a gentleman to do that.”
Jaejoong was reminded of Yoochun, and he asked worriedly, “What about Yoona?”
Mama looked up, smiling softly, “Donghoon-sshi requested her again tonight. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything Yoona doesn’t like…don’t worry, Jaejin…”
Jaejoong sighed inwardly, knowing Yoochun would probably concede to Donghoon anyway, given that the man knew how to sweeten the words that rolled off his tongue. But there was nothing Jaejoong could do about it, Yoochun could be so stubborn when he put his mind on something…or someone. And Donghoon had been feeding him ideas and promises of a better life, something Jaejoong knew Yoochun desperately wanted and thought he would get.
“Jaejinnie…” Mama called out gently, and Jaejoong’s thoughts were snapped back to the present, “you shouldn’t be so scared. Hyungnim is a generous man…he will give you a lot of nice things if you make him happy, dear,” Mama coaxed, rubbing circles with her thumbs across the back of Jaejoong’s hand. Jaejoong looked down at their linked hands, and thought how much in debt he was with Mama. If it was not for Mama looking after his back, Jaejoong would probably end up in strangers’ beds without his consent.
But really, even Mama has someone she had to give in to. There was only one stranger in this town that Mama couldn’t protect Jaejoong from. It was Hyungnim.
*
Yunho flicked the ash off his cigarette as he walked through the urine-smelling alley, nose scrunching in distaste at the foul stench permeating the air. Changmin walked one step behind, too used to their ranked lifestyle to do otherwise. A stray cat mewled from behind a trashcan, hoping for mercy from the two young men trudging their way along the deserted street; and Yunho squatted in front of the scared tabby, stroking its rough, patched fur with his callous hand.
“You’re hungry, aren't you?” Yunho asked the cat, huffing out a smoke into the warm night air. The orange-furred feline snuggled against his palm, rubbing his ear and neck to Yunho’s knuckle before circling around him, looking for any hidden ration. The man laughed, amused at the cat’s action. Any creature, given time and experience, will learn how to survive.
Yunho patted the cat’s head before straightening up, beckoning Changmin nearer to ask him if he still had any more of those pork mandu they ate at the stall just now. Changmin half-groaned as he dug into his sling bag, knowing well that Yunho knew he always bought extra of the meaty treat for later. In his defense Changmin would always say he was just 19 and he still had some years of growing to do.
“It’s just mandu, Min.”
“Those are really good mandu! The ajumma made them specially for me…with extra minced pork inside. You can’t find any like them anywhere else.”
“I’ll pay you back later, Min-ah. Stop looking like I just mugged you.”, Yunho said in a controlled voice, amusement clearly laced in his teasing comment. He fished out a slightly deformed mandu out of the plastic bag, giving the piece to the crying cat. The tabby dug his claws and teeth into the treat gratefully, making hungry noises as she ate, and Yunho tossed another two pieces on the ground because there was no way she could survive with just one. Changmin groaned from behind, and Yunho suppressed a chuckle in his throat.
The phone vibrated in his back pocket and Yunho pulled it out quickly, knowing just who was calling from the other side of the line.
“Yes Hyungnim? Aknyeo you say? Yes I know the place. We are not far from it actually…Yes, okay I understand…We’ll be there in ten, Hyungnim.”
Yunho snapped his phone shut as the line went dead. Changmin glanced at him with raised brows with no question as he understood it all from the short exchange.
“So we’re going Aknyeo, eh?”
Yunho shrugged, moving to stand as he looked at the cat still devouring Changmin’s mandu.
“Eat up, kitty. Let’s hope to see each other around again,” Yunho muttered before taking a long drag from his cancer stick. He figured it would take him less than ten minutes to walk up to the club, so he was in no rush. The female cat looked up for a second from her meal to meow quietly at Yunho, saying ‘thank you’ in her own way. Yunho’s lips quirked upward in a half-smile, and suddenly he felt like he had lived in this ‘world’ so long that he forgot such innocence could still exist.
“You shouldn’t be here, koyangi. You’re too pretty to be playing in this side of town. Well, I guess you used to be pretty. I don’t think anything or anyone could live in this side of town and stay as pretty as they used to be. Beauty doesn't exist here… it’s all lies and stained glass.”
--[TBC]
*mandu - dumpling
*koyangi - cat
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc
romance | drama | angst | AU | pg-13
+3, 210 words
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence. and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now. heh. beta-ed by the lovely yaoi_hoshi. :D
[ prologue]
--
One;
The air stank with the smell of sweat and alcohol, and Jaejoong - no, it’s Jaejin for now - stood in the middle of a small, raised platform that creaked when he stepped on it, a sorry excuse for a stage in the crowded club filled to the brim with men looking for satisfaction and delusion in the group of pretty-men that hosted the establishment. The band played a soft, jazzy melody as Jae hummed, dolled-up eyes scanning the semi-darkened room and ignoring the many pairs of lusty eyes that scoured his scantily clad figure like he was not even a human. Bile rose at the back of his throat, climbing steadily up until Jae could taste the bitter reminder of a shot of soju he shared with a customer before his turn to sing came up, and he gratefully slipped away from wandering hands that belonged to a straying husband whose lone wife was waiting for him to come home from supposed ‘overtime’.
Overtime, my ass, Jae thought as he nearly puked at the hungry leers the men threw his way, expecting to catch his wink or two. Jaejoong closed his eyes, withholding from satisfying them, and his eyes caught the familiar silhouette of Yoochun - Yoona - in the arms of a man twice their age. He held back the need to growl his displeasure when he saw the older man lewdly trail a hand up Yoochun’s exposed back, but the note kicked in and he transformed the shout into the heartfelt bellow of a soulful ballad - shocking everyone who wasn’t already looking into turning their eyes towards the stage. A spotlight shone from above, the heat almost melting the make-up layered on his face, and Jae nodded down in what he figured was an act of bashfulness. He could have snickered. There was nothing bashful or shy in his person - nothing remotely soft and feminine aside from the luscious curve of his lips and the almond-shaped eyes that were feathered with fake lashes and mascara. He made a grand gesture when the music climbed into a crescendo, claiming the audience’s attention and giving Yoochun the chance to slip out of the greasy customer’s arms - and when he came back down from the high note to a generous clapping of his admirers, he caught Yoochun’s nods of gratitude from a corner of his eyes and his heart felt at ease. He had done his job.
Here in Aknyeo there were two types of hostess - one who would take up any offer just to collect their tips, and one who didn’t have to take any offers because well, they still got their tips no matter what. It generally sucked to be the former, which was applicable to more than half of the drags of the club, since that meant they had to whore for a living. Jaejoong was grateful he was not one of those who had to sell their bodies to get enough money to live another day, but the same couldn't be said for Yoochun, and every night Jaejoong had to keep his eyes sharp in order to keep Yoochun out of trouble from the animals disguised as their customers. It did not help at all that Yoochun barely could say ‘no’ - he was a sucker for affection, and before Jaejoong could say ‘stop, you idiot, you’re going to get hurt’ Yoochun was already running towards the men like a moth to the flame.
Jaejoong inhaled deeply; it wasn’t easy to think of Yoochun and not to remember how they met. It was too dramatic to be forgotten, and Jaejoong never intended to forget it either. Yoochun had pulled him out of some deep shit he had managed to get into and he had saved Yoochun from the brink of death - literally so. Jaejoong owed Yoochun his life in more ways than one, and he had promised himself he wouldn’t let Yoochun get himself nearly killed again, because the last (first) time he had done it had almost scared Jaejoong into a cardiac arrest.
If he was to be honest to himself, the only reason he still stuck around Aknyeo was because of Yoochun. That boy needed protection, and Jaejoong, as feeble and delicate-looking as he was (but he thought he could a pack a punch or three if situation calls for it), was the only option Yoochun had. They were both homeless teens with fucked-up parents that had kicked them out of the house too early, not patient enough to wait for them to reconcile with raging teenage hormones.
Yoochun talked about his younger brother sometimes, when they got time to spare to chat before sleeping. Jaejoong didn’t like hearing about it - because then Yoochun would cry and Jaejoong knew he could do nothing to help. He hated the feeling of helplessness, he hated not being able to act and to make things better, but that didn’t mean he did anything to change it. Since he was 14, Jaejoong was used to running away from problems, and turning his back towards the ghost of his past. Jaejoong knew he was a sad excuse of a person - just like how the stage was made of plywood that would one day collapse under the weight of the men’s sins.
Another song played as if on cue, and this time it was an upbeat piece. The crowd moved to the narrow dance floor in front of the stage, the customers holding out their hands to their hostesses as the ‘girls’ giggled with excitement at the show of gentleman gallantry. Jae resisted from rolling his eyes, and moved to unhook the microphone from its stand instead. This song demanded him to dance a bit, and it was hard doing so while holding the immovable mic-stand. Jaejoong faked a smile when his gaze met with Mama’s eyes and saw her eyes changed into tiny, disapproving slits at his lack of enthusiasm. Jae tried to smile more convincingly, swaying his body to the music as he belted out a cheerful song of lovers meeting under the moonlight.
In the corner, Jaejoong saw Yoochun getting pulled back onto the lap of the same greasy man he saw earlier. His heart sank deep into his guts. Their life was a depressing imitation of a damaged tape that played in a loop without an end, Jaejoong thought sadly as the drums went ‘tak taktaktak tak taktaktak’ in the background.
*
Junsu felt his skin prickle with millions of goosebumps as he stepped into the shadow, pulling out the bike he had hidden earlier that afternoon as he watched his brother-in-law slip into his car and pull slowly out of the driveway. He knew where Donghoon was going - he had been out every other night for two months now and he would always come back with the same stinking smell sticking to his shirts, which Junsu had the most unfortunate task of washing the next day. Even if he had never had girlfriends before, Junsu knew the slight sweet perfume that he could sniff among the stench of Donghoon’s sweat belonged to a woman, a slut the bastard was fucking. There was no tell-tale lipstick mark though, but Junsu attributed it to the woman trying to be smart or perhaps, just advanced cosmetic technology. He gritted his teeth and collected his courage. He needed to see this woman and tell her to get her claws off someone else’s husband, because she was ruining not only a woman’s psyche, but destroying the future of three young kids who knew nothing of their father’s clandestine affair.
The 2003 Hyundai drove at a steady speed - not too slow yet not too fast - and Junsu was glad because he was cycling for dear life. His muscles ached after a few kilometers, and he also had to be sure to keep a safe distance, not wanting to blow his cover if Donghoon happened to catch a sight of him in his rear view mirror. Junsu thought he was pretty slick as he managed to maintain three cars between him and the yellow Hyundai, near enough not to lose the view of the car but sufficiently far to hide himself in the traffic. He thanked his lucky star (if he had one) for making the road rather busy that night, which meant Donghoon couldn't speed up and he didn’t have to cycle too hard.
His curiosity peaked when the car turned the corner into the seedy district of Itaewon. Junsu had heard many stories about the place - how men found whores to satisfy their sick urges in the many clubs scattering about the area. He slowed down before hopping off his bike when Donghoon’s car stopped in front of a convenience store. The man stepped out and went into the store for a while as Junsu looked in, hidden behind an ice-cream truck. He saw Donghoon going through the maze of the shelves inside the store, picking something up and checking out at the counter with haste. There was a distinct glimmer in Donghoon’s eyes, and even from the distance Junsu was standing at, he knew whatever Donghoon had just bought meant a lot to the man. He squinted and tried to make up the thing clutched in Donghoon’s hands, but it was too small and Junsu gave up after Donghoon began to move towards him, and his eyes widened in panic of getting discovered.
He recoiled in fear as Donghoon walked past him, plastering his back to the truck and wishing the bastard didn’t turn around to play ‘gotcha’ with him. Luckily for him, Donghoon walked straight ahead with a silly, almost besotted grin plastered on his face. Junsu breathed out in relief, but his heart started pounding again when he saw where the older man was heading. The neon-decorated sign was like a mocking statement of infidelity - a silhouette of a woman draping across the words like a snake would to its prey.
Aknyeo - Bad Girl. Huh.
Junsu moved out of the shadow he was hiding in, stepping bravely into the streetlight when he saw Donghoon slipping inside the guarded door. The bouncer didn’t even move a muscle, and Junsu thought it was obvious that his brother-in-law had been there countless of times to be regarded as one of the regulars. His lips tightened in disgust.
Junsu could hear the sound of music drifting out of the club - some jazz number with the a soft voice accompanying it, and for a second there he was tempted to go in and enjoy the serenade. He didn’t even realize he had walked straight up to the door, and only came back to his senses when a large hand clamped down on his shoulder and he yelped in surprise.
“Hey kid, you’re too young to get in. Fuck off,” the bouncer growled, and Junsu stepped back out of reach, nearly stumbling over himself. As he cartwheeled himself right back to standing, he smacked a hand into someone’s face and he turned around, gasping in horror. A group of men, seemingly dangerous in all the right senses of the word, stood in front of him. The man he had just smacked was looking utterly pissed and somewhat amused as the blood drained steadily from Junsu’s face.
“Oh my God, I’m s-so sorry!” he bubbled out quickly, bowing at the dangerous looking man. Someone at the back whispered something to the ‘Hyungnim’ and Junsu felt his stomach twist into itself - what a rotten luck he had to meet with the mafia on his first venture into the red-light district.
“No need. He’s just a boy,” the Hyungnim said coolly, patting Junsu’s head as if he was ten. Junsu didn’t care that he was treated like he was ten, he just wanted to live and not die uselessly without helping his sister and her kids first. Hyungnim moved towards the club and the bouncer moved aside to give him entrance, bowing in respect as the man walked past. Junsu heaved out a relieved sigh - that had been really close. The adrenaline was exhilarating but he didn’t need to experience that again, thank you very much.
And suddenly he wondered - what kind of man Donghoon was if he hanged out in such clubs with mafias crawling all over? Maybe his brother-in-law was part of an illegal organization too? Maybe he was a drug-dealer, or some kind of weapon smuggler, transporting guns and bombs to the North Koreans or the terrorists. Junsu shuddered, willing his imagination to die in his mind and never to come true.
*
The fourth song finished and Jaejoong was showered with appreciative claps and catcalls, the men calling his name as they requested him to sing another song. Jaejoong was about to answer with a flirty ‘if you guys give me lots of tips I will sing for you all night’ when Mama stepped onto the stage, her black dress billowing underneath her as she motioned for Jaejoong to wait at the back, a smile that meant business steadfast on her colored lips. The small crowd booed as Jaejoong descended the stage and slipped behind the curtain, and Jaejoong had to smile as Mama placated them with a cooing promise.
“Our Jaejinnie needs a bit of rest, gentlemen…Those heels could be really mean to us girls. Now if you could be patient for a bit, Jaejin-honey will come back later on after she gets her rest. What about letting our Jiwonnie sing for a bit? You’ll love her sweet voice, I promise!”
Jaejoong snorted as the crowd cheered again when the pretty-faced Jiwon stepped on and took the mic from Mama. So predictable.
Jaejoong slumped against the wall as he waited for Mama to come inside, and it wasn’t a long wait before she pushed the curtain and slipped into the poorly lit recess room. She motioned for Jaejoong to follow her through a narrow hallway, and a sick feeling knotted in his guts as he realized what that meant.
“Mama?” Jaejoong stopped her mid-track, voice shaky as he looked into the her eyes. The demi-woman sighed, reaching out to hold Jaejoong’s hand.
“Hyungnim requested you. I gave him the other girls’ names but he wants you and you know I can’t refuse him, Jaejinnie…please understand, okay? He won’t hurt you, I promise…Hyungnim is too much of a gentleman to do that.”
Jaejoong was reminded of Yoochun, and he asked worriedly, “What about Yoona?”
Mama looked up, smiling softly, “Donghoon-sshi requested her again tonight. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything Yoona doesn’t like…don’t worry, Jaejin…”
Jaejoong sighed inwardly, knowing Yoochun would probably concede to Donghoon anyway, given that the man knew how to sweeten the words that rolled off his tongue. But there was nothing Jaejoong could do about it, Yoochun could be so stubborn when he put his mind on something…or someone. And Donghoon had been feeding him ideas and promises of a better life, something Jaejoong knew Yoochun desperately wanted and thought he would get.
“Jaejinnie…” Mama called out gently, and Jaejoong’s thoughts were snapped back to the present, “you shouldn’t be so scared. Hyungnim is a generous man…he will give you a lot of nice things if you make him happy, dear,” Mama coaxed, rubbing circles with her thumbs across the back of Jaejoong’s hand. Jaejoong looked down at their linked hands, and thought how much in debt he was with Mama. If it was not for Mama looking after his back, Jaejoong would probably end up in strangers’ beds without his consent.
But really, even Mama has someone she had to give in to. There was only one stranger in this town that Mama couldn’t protect Jaejoong from. It was Hyungnim.
*
Yunho flicked the ash off his cigarette as he walked through the urine-smelling alley, nose scrunching in distaste at the foul stench permeating the air. Changmin walked one step behind, too used to their ranked lifestyle to do otherwise. A stray cat mewled from behind a trashcan, hoping for mercy from the two young men trudging their way along the deserted street; and Yunho squatted in front of the scared tabby, stroking its rough, patched fur with his callous hand.
“You’re hungry, aren't you?” Yunho asked the cat, huffing out a smoke into the warm night air. The orange-furred feline snuggled against his palm, rubbing his ear and neck to Yunho’s knuckle before circling around him, looking for any hidden ration. The man laughed, amused at the cat’s action. Any creature, given time and experience, will learn how to survive.
Yunho patted the cat’s head before straightening up, beckoning Changmin nearer to ask him if he still had any more of those pork mandu they ate at the stall just now. Changmin half-groaned as he dug into his sling bag, knowing well that Yunho knew he always bought extra of the meaty treat for later. In his defense Changmin would always say he was just 19 and he still had some years of growing to do.
“It’s just mandu, Min.”
“Those are really good mandu! The ajumma made them specially for me…with extra minced pork inside. You can’t find any like them anywhere else.”
“I’ll pay you back later, Min-ah. Stop looking like I just mugged you.”, Yunho said in a controlled voice, amusement clearly laced in his teasing comment. He fished out a slightly deformed mandu out of the plastic bag, giving the piece to the crying cat. The tabby dug his claws and teeth into the treat gratefully, making hungry noises as she ate, and Yunho tossed another two pieces on the ground because there was no way she could survive with just one. Changmin groaned from behind, and Yunho suppressed a chuckle in his throat.
The phone vibrated in his back pocket and Yunho pulled it out quickly, knowing just who was calling from the other side of the line.
“Yes Hyungnim? Aknyeo you say? Yes I know the place. We are not far from it actually…Yes, okay I understand…We’ll be there in ten, Hyungnim.”
Yunho snapped his phone shut as the line went dead. Changmin glanced at him with raised brows with no question as he understood it all from the short exchange.
“So we’re going Aknyeo, eh?”
Yunho shrugged, moving to stand as he looked at the cat still devouring Changmin’s mandu.
“Eat up, kitty. Let’s hope to see each other around again,” Yunho muttered before taking a long drag from his cancer stick. He figured it would take him less than ten minutes to walk up to the club, so he was in no rush. The female cat looked up for a second from her meal to meow quietly at Yunho, saying ‘thank you’ in her own way. Yunho’s lips quirked upward in a half-smile, and suddenly he felt like he had lived in this ‘world’ so long that he forgot such innocence could still exist.
“You shouldn’t be here, koyangi. You’re too pretty to be playing in this side of town. Well, I guess you used to be pretty. I don’t think anything or anyone could live in this side of town and stay as pretty as they used to be. Beauty doesn't exist here… it’s all lies and stained glass.”
--[TBC]
*mandu - dumpling
*koyangi - cat