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.”