Coding Heaven, Planning Hell (5)
The night deepened.
"I don't wanna go home."
Drunk and dark. Breathing in brought the floral scent of La Prairie, and somewhere a mangled piano melody drifted through the air. Was there a bar like that around here? My heart pounded. Time crawled. An old streetlight pole. Shadows. Seoul night. Moonlight bathed Shin Na-young's dark eyes.
Braaang! Cars screeched like assholes.
For some reason, stars twinkled in her pupils.
"Watch where you're going, fucker!"
The prick in the gray Avante yelled that as he peeled out. I memorized his face. I'd forget it by tomorrow thanks to the booze anyway, but still. Anger works like that, doesn't it?
I felt every ounce of Shin Na-young's weight as she clung to me.
"Seong-u... You're so nice even though I'm not your girl... Know what they call a guy like that?"
"A real bastard."
People's hearts are weird as hell.
Her cheeks and lips flushed a soft pink. Shin Na-young, who'd always just been a friend, was begging me to hold her. She didn't want to go home tonight, said the night felt lonely, pleaded for me to stay with her.
The perfume she'd spritzed today smelled like lemon.
Shin Na-young.
I'd first met her in high school. The neighborhood we grew up in was ridiculously divided. Apartments on one side of the river, rundown studio villages on the other. Folks on the apartment side were happy for similar reasons; the studio side, miserable for all sorts. Apartment homes went for 500 to 600 million won; studios rented for 500,000 a month. One side had convenience stores, Pilates studios, clean playgrounds. The other: dingy supermarkets, auto shops, streets littered with trash bags from the villas. Drunks there belted out bangers at 3 a.m. Maybe that's why Shin Na-young turned out so lively.
Anyway, Mom hated me hanging with her. When Shin Na-young came over, Mom would slice fruit but glare at her like a thief cat eyeing her stuff. Once she left, it'd be a full sex ed lecture. Mess around with your dick wrong, and you're fucked.
That's the kind of parents they were. Maybe that's why I denied it. Studying was all a kid like me should do. It was my only strength. Fail to get into college, and I'd end up in those studios forever. Just like her.
"Get in the car first."
"Okay..."
Shin Na-young grabbed the back of my hand with trembling fingers. Like a lady being escorted, she staggered on drunken legs through the wobbling world, trailing after me.
I carefully guided her into the passenger seat. The same one Han Yu-ra had sat in. Realizing that sparked a weird self-loathing.
What the hell am I doing?
A motel loomed ahead.
Friendship Motel
Why the fuck would that motel owner name it that? Hoping for friends with benefits?
Rage bubbled at the sleazy implication. What if we went in tonight? Han Yu-ra and I weren't lovers. Hugging Shin Na-young right now wouldn't be a crime. But not tonight. I'd drunk too much; the world spun.
Fuck, drunk driving.
I started the engine, then got right back out.
"Na-young, out of the car."
"Whaa...? Why?"
"Drunk driving."
I was wasted. Shin Na-young grinned goofily at me. Her soft, ruby lips parted.
"Idiot."
Her face lit up with lovesick glow. Those sultry upturned eyes teased my instincts hard.
I called a designated driver.
"Go home, Na-young."
"Why?"
She glared like I'd betrayed her. Then she hung her head, rubbed her dry face with both hands. Like the full moon, she was crooked and smashed.
"Am I ugly?"
"You're pretty."
"Then tell me. Why?"
"..."
"Why?"
Shin Na-young stammered, trying to spit something out.
"Do I look dirty to you? 'Cause I grew up in a shithole? Think I've got some disease?"
"That's not it."
I cut her off. A woman's face can flip in an instant. That spring-flower smile twisted into venomous hate.
"You like her, right?"
"No."
If anything, I hated Han Yu-ra. But I didn't want Shin Na-young right now. Not like this. I wanted proper steps. Steps? The ones you skipped with Han Yu-ra? You fucking moron?
I silenced the voice in my head. And realized it: I'd turned into a real bastard.
Han Yu-ra? Treat her however. She treated me like shit.
That was my logic. Normally, SM starts with safe words. Did I ever tell Han Yu-ra that? Nope. Planned to handle her my way from the jump.
No wonder fuckboys have harems.
But Shin Na-young? Couldn't treat her like that. Precious friend. Girl I'd once liked. Shared my sorrows and joys. If I was fucking Han Yu-ra, I couldn't connect with Shin Na-young. Had to drop one. Because both deserved full love.
Shin Na-young stumbled after me.
"Seong-u."
"..."
She'd drunk a ton. Wasted. Might forget all this by morning.
"Just reject me outright. For real. Am I a friend? Is that all I am to you? Just friendship?"
Friendship Motel
"Friendship?"
I hate drunk girls, turns out. News to me.
"...No."
"Then say it. Why do you hate me?"
"I don't."
"Bastard."
I laughed. The booze? Nah, I'd always liked her swearing. She never hid her feelings. Always bright, said whatever.
She staggered into my arms. I hugged her tight. Felt her heart thumping.
"No more of this when you're drunk, Na-young."
"What do I care..."
Did she like me? Her soul might be cornered right now. I wanted her sober truth.
"Answer me, Im Seong-u. Why..."
"Shin Na-young."
"..."
"If you're gonna say it, sober up first."
Driver pulled up.
"Don't wanna hold you while you're wasted."
"...You're a real asshole."
She pounded my pecs with tiny fists.
I opened the door, helped her in.
"Head home first tonight, Na-young."
"...Sorry."
"I'm the sorry one."
Pulled three 50,000-won bills from my wallet, pressed them into her hand.
"Go. Talk tomorrow."
"Yeah..."
She almost refused, then got it was cab fare, took it. Her face looked off.
...
I wanted her too. But she deserved better. Am I trash?
Walked the streets till my booze-swirled head cleared, caught a bus. Familiar nightclub sign: Pong Pong Night.
Pong Pong Night
Pink neon. Woman perched on pink soap bubbles. The bizarre name drew a hollow chuckle. Pong Pong Night. Friendship Motel. Pissed me off.
…
"Hic..."
"Aigoo, you're really smashed. Here, step out."
The driver approached Shin Na-young. Fifties guy, lonely for touch, eyed her body with a hint of lust as he offered support. She shoved him off.
I lived clean, Seong-u.
She felt wronged. Stumbled out anyway, rejecting his hand. Handed him a 100,000-won bill. Car revved away regretfully.
Is my brain rotten?
The cab fare from Im Seong-u felt like payment for her body. Dark thoughts welled up. Moonlight.
She ended up at her tiny studio, like the one from childhood. Low self-esteem treated her like a whore. Homewrecker. Clingy friend ruining his fun.
...You deserve to have fun.
Three thousand a month, and she had no right to jealousy if he fucked others? Should've just given him her body. No talk of heart, love, memories—bullshit like that. Acted empty-headed. Would've eased her mind.
...
She crashed onto her bed. Rabbit hood swallowed her head.
Too rash.
Half-confessed on booze impulse. Midnight. Dry-faced shame shook her. Curled fetal, dove under covers clothes-on. Liver exhausted, but mind razor-sharp.
Fuck...
Few know: booze isn't a relaxant. Sometimes keeps you awake.
"..."
She clutched the white duvet. Sweat-soaked. Fabric wrinkles sucked into her fists.
"Bastard..."
When he'd saved her from death. Real death closing in, massive dopamine hit. Body burned. Whim, deviance. Death. Then his rational arms: firm, warm.
No sex life till mid-twenties, but she knew the feeling. Heat.
She craved love. His body. Touches. All etched deep. Sparked fantasies.
What would fucking you feel like?
Imagined Im Seong-u.
Gentle? Or rough?
Secret high school thoughts. Staring into his eyes, he'd glare: "Why stare during math?" She'd laugh it off.
Your parents hated me.
She tossed, bit the blanket. One hand slipped inside her pants. Habit when sad or stressed: masturbate first.
"Haa... Seong-u..."
Then guilt flipped it. Anger at him to self-loathing.
"Sorry..."
For blaming you. I'm trash. You looked so cool earning. Do I seem cheap?
She rustled up. Body still hot, wouldn't cool. Locked her door. Click. No one coming, but still.
Shoulders... so broad.
Middle school swimmer build, still huge frame. Self-hate trembling, she yanked down her pants. Gray sports panties darkened at the crotch. Hated herself more.
When did I get wet?
From near-death hug? Saying no to home?
"Aha... Ungh..."
Wish you were here. Nothing more needed. If I'd been the one in your arms, not her…
Slim fingers teased her pussy. Bare touch sent jolts up her spine.
Sorry, tried to seduce you...
"Haa..."
Pale, plump thighs bared to cool air. Slowly pressed middle finger to panty top.
"Ahit..."
Body quivered. Fabric scrape sharpened the throb. Booze haze loosened her; she leaned back hard.
Punish me...
Stroked over panties. Sharp pleasure, aroused breaths leaked. Face flushed pink, she stared vulgarly at her half-naked lower half for masturbation.
You're a bad girl.
Bit lip, grabbed breast. C-cup squished under hood.
Just a little... Can't sleep, that's all...
Midnight. Shin Na-young muffled her mouth to silence moans. Started masturbating.