Massage Therapist Job Change

The profile's occupation field displays the job that generates the most revenue for people with multiple occupations.

"We'll do proper introductions at the welcome party. I have a full schedule, so I'll head out."

Watching Go Seokhyeon smile and walk away, I quietly asked Shim Uran, "Uran, what's that guy's deal?"

"Hmm, well... he's got a good personality, I guess. But don't get too close."

Her status message suggested he'd hit on her before. It was obvious from her attitude—she clearly felt uncomfortable.

It was time to clock out.

"Alright, Yunho, time for your welcome party, right?"

The welcome party was at Zoomco, a karaoke bar near Esthetic de Nonhyeon. The mood was lively. Most of them were from arts or athletics backgrounds, so they knew how to have fun. They belted out songs after downing drinks—it felt like the welcome was just an excuse for the party.

It's been a while since I last drank.

This was my first time since that night alone with Shin Yeona.

Shin Yeona... hope her diet's going well.

It'd be nice to run into her again someday. Shaking off the thought, I focused back on the party. My first rowdy company gathering. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The good vibes made the booze taste even better.

Go Seokhyeon finished a song and came over with his glass raised. "Yunho, gotta cheers with me too, right? Oh, I'm the older one, so casual talk's fine?"

His face wore a welcoming smile. I read his status message. This approach was just a jab to probe who I was.

Smiling back, I said to Go Seokhyeon, "Of course. Call me whatever. I'll call you hyung too."

"Great, Yunho. Cheers then?"

As he raised his glass insistently, I activated his full profile.

I only skimmed a basic profile before, so I missed this. Someone's already living my dream?

One thing I'd wanted to try since becoming a masseur: turning massage porn into reality. And here was a guy already doing it. Even scamming money out of it. His main gig being gigolo over masseur meant it paid better.

Boss doesn't seem big on employee oversight.

A place like Esthetic de Nonhyeon should manage bad hands for the shop's image. The mild-mannered owner had some sloppy holes in his management.

I eyed Go Seokhyeon. Friendly smile on the surface, but his status screamed wariness toward me. Master of expressions—outside and inside didn't match, and he hid it seamlessly. Handsome friendly face plus slick talk. Normal folks would warm up quick and get buddy-buddy. He had that affinity.

To live off reeling in women with a pretty face, you need that poker face, huh?

But with mind-reading, I had zero interest in getting close.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Better keep my distance.

I clinked glasses casually. He kept probing friendly-like afterward, and I gave short answers. The party wrapped up.

Only one to watch out for: Go Seokhyeon.

The other staff weren't worth worrying over. Male employees' wariness bugged me a bit, but guys loosen up with some pandering, and it wasn't a big deal anyway.

Heading home post-party, it was late. Normal shifts started tomorrow—better sleep.

Day 2 at Esthetic de Nonhyeon.

"No customers. Should I hit the streets for promo?"

Day 2 with no clients after a blank first day. Morning practical training, afternoon standby—no shows.

"Did I mess up picking masseur? Didn't see this coming."

I vented to Shim Uran during her free slot. "Shim Uran? Look at me. With my skills, clients should've poured in, right? No work, no pay?"

Seeing my face, she grinned apologetically. "Aw~ Give it a week or two. Sales jobs like this take time to heat up."

"You should've warned me."

I sidled up, grabbed her shoulder. She owed me stress relief. Pushed her into an empty massage room.

"Ack? Hey, why the empty room? Not now... Ahhn!"

Her protests ended with Love Weapon-activated fingers slipping into her pants waist. I blew off steam with a satisfying shot. Post-rage-fuck, groin-soaked Shim Uran eyed me cautiously.

"Sitting idle sucks, so let's talk to the boss."

We went to the owner, explained my situation. He looked troubled. "Hmm. Yunho, you're probationary support staff. Standby for surges or walk-ins—that's your role."

He continued, "Pushing clients your way isn't feasible yet. Customers pick their therapist."

No choice. "Got it."

Pitying my disappointment, he offered, "If idling's boring, shadow a full-timer?"

Better than nothing, so I agreed. Couldn't shadow Shim Uran—her female clients hated guys watching. Instead, boss took me to Go Seokhyeon.

"Seokhyeon, mind Yunho shadowing for a bit? Get client okay first."

"Sure."

Businesslike reply, but his status screamed reluctance. I teased a bit.

Go Seokhyeon was popular—booked solid outside breaks. Shadowing revealed one thing: With male clients, he played nice masseur outside, but inside?

• Irritation / Fatigue

• This fucker's fat as hell. Fingers hurt, damn.

Female clients got body critiques, no curses. But hot ones?

• Can't grope properly 'cause of this guy.

Usual high-touch "massage" with regulars, apparently. My presence killed it—his status filled with annoyance. Hilarious. I stuck around despite his hints.

Another zero clients, time to clock out.

Next day, same story—no clients for me. So much downtime, I fiddled with my smartphone. Updated features were my new hobby.

Today's toy: photo search. Celeb pics yielded fun results.

What to search?

Suddenly craved non-celeb. Unblocked a Kakao blocked contact, fired up profile.

My eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠locked on the notes.

• Target of user's past crush.

Memories soured my mood.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Expert at profiting off natural beauty, huh.

Spot on. Kim Hyeonseo was born a vixen. Had a boyfriend but hid it, reeled me in. Starved for attention, I fell hard.

For months, I worked extra shifts for her meals, turned study time into error notes for her.

Prime househusband material.

Now? Total sucker. She got into Seo-eol Business on my devotion. I flunked resits, fled to the army.

No fresh rage now. My fault too—forgot extras like me don't snag leads.

But.

If our paths cross again someday...