The Parking Lot
While watching the manager flee, I remain trapped in his arms, my tongue brutally violated.
No one has ever touched my lips before, yet now they are being coated in the bodily fluids of the man I despise most in the world.
…Even though it is utterly horrifying and terrifying.
The most repulsive man in the world turns his fleeing steps toward me.
Crushed beneath the fear that he might stab me with a knife, I cannot refuse or resist at all.
In this dim park, he rapes even my heart.
“Hah…, haa….”
The tears have stopped by now, but my heart has not.
In this open space where anyone could discover us at any moment, every time my face—hidden only by a single hat with the mask pulled down—is toyed with at will, my entire body reels.
That chilling terror that my life could end the instant even one person recognizes me robs me of every will to refuse and every ounce of strength to resist.
If I resisted even a little, that sound of resistance itself would draw attention.
“…Reporting it, well. It’s not like we’re caught in the act anyway. The police probably won’t even come. I’ll just send a quick message to your director.”
“….”
Staring straight at me with a cruel smile, he naturally unlocks my phone with my face, sends the manager’s tweet link to the director’s chat, then slips the phone back into my pocket.
During that short yet endless moment, I could do nothing but stay still in his arms, unable to so much as twitch a finger.
“Put your mask back on. Fix your hat too. …Want to stop by the convenience store?”
“Please… stop…”
The tears no longer fall, but my voice still trembles as I plead, having lost all will and strength to resist.
“If that’s what you want, just run away. Your manager ran off in that direction, and there’s a police station if you keep going. You could report it as a crime in progress.”
“….”
“What are you waiting for? …Why aren’t you running?”
Instead, he removes my hat and strokes my hair, then pinches and rubs my burning ears between his thumb and forefinger, toying with not only my body but my heart as well.
“If you’re not going to run, then follow me. …Let’s buy something to drink while we’re out.”
Entrusting everything to his body, I cling to his side and drag my unwilling feet forward one step at a time.
Away from the dark park and toward the bright, glaring lights.
Step by step.
No matter how much I cover my mouth, nose, and hair, it is a place where I can never hide the identity of “Seo Jia.”
“I stop by here after work sometimes. The part-timer’s going to be shocked if they see you.”
“…Alone.”
“Alone?”
Just before being dragged inside, I stand frozen in front of the table outside the convenience store and offer the smallest, most timid resistance.
“I’ll wait… quietly… outside…”
“…Sit and wait.”
The moment I am released from him, I pull out my phone with trembling hands while covering my face. Seeing him disappear into the store, I press the call button, breathing hard as I type “11,” but the instant I feel his gaze on me from inside, I close the phone.
I turn it back on, this time only entering “1,” and glance into the store. He is no longer looking at me, already holding two bottles of water and walking toward the counter. Terrified that he will come out any second, I abandon the call and check the manager’s tweets instead.
Nothing new has been posted since the park photos he showed me earlier. Slightly relieved, I sit quietly on the chair with my back to the store, scanning the surroundings in case the manager followed or someone recognized me, keeping my face hidden as much as possible.
“Hik……!”
The moment something cold touches the back of my neck, I jolt up from the chair in shock. Meeting his grotesquely smiling eyes, I press a hand to my wildly pounding chest and slowly steady my ragged breathing.
“Water.”
“….”
Accepting the bottle, I quickly rinse my mouth and tongue, still stained with his fluids. For a moment I considered spitting it out, but I could not with the part-timer inside possibly noticing. Swallowing the unpleasant liquid down my throat, I stand and press a hand to my chest, which has calmed slightly thanks to the cold water.
“…You bastard.”
“Ow, that hurts.”
I swing my fist at the man who towers over me.
“Rapist. Scum of the earth. Voyeuristic psychopath…”
My powerless arms strike his chest again and again.
“…So what?”
“…I’m going to report you.”
“Go ahead. …I never told you not to.”
Far from flinching, he does not even twitch as I pound on his chest.
“But if I’m going to prison anyway… isn’t it a waste to stop at just one first kiss?”
“….”
“…When I fucked your sister, I fed her five or six cocktails until she was half-drunk and took her raw. …How many times did I come inside her that day?”
“Trash…”
My entire body trembles as his past crimes are forced directly into my ears.
“Still, your sister had a bit of a crush on me. She got wet easily too. She was drunk and caught up in the mood, so she barely resisted. …Even so, she looked like she was dying from the pain. You saw it yourself back then.”
Though it happened months ago and the exact date is hazy, the image of his grotesque, monstrous manhood remains vivid in my mind.
“Ah, not that I’m saying I’m going to force anything. Just letting you know. …Actually, I don’t even need to do it myself, right? If I DM that voyeuristic bastard, he’ll probably come running just like before.”
…Far more disgusting and nauseating than that hideous, vicious thing is the memory of my former manager.
“…I’m going to go play with them before I get sued by you when I get home. Rest if you want to rest. …Follow me if you’re coming.”
“….”
Without laying a single finger on me, he forces my feet to follow his.
Because if my heart’s plea—to be taken anywhere inside, anywhere but out here—is not granted, I feel like I will collapse right here.
“Hiss…. haa….”
Stretching conspicuously for no reason, I hide behind his back as he walks ahead, struggling to match his long strides.
Step by step.
Whenever someone passes nearby, I press my hat brim down and lean against him, repeatedly adjusting the mask that nearly reaches my smile lines, chasing after the man I hate most in the world while fleeing the phantom of the man I despise most.
…No matter how I think about it, the man in front of me seems far more dangerous to my chastity, yet at least I am certain he will not kill me.
“…We’re back already.”
Without looking ahead, only at his heels and back, I finally finish the long, long outing. The moment that realization hits, my legs give out and I collapse onto the parking lot floor, clutching his calf instead of his shirt as I gasp for breath.
“Hek, hek….”
“….”
Seeing me struggling to control my breathing and painfully stroking my throat, he pulls a crumpled plastic bag from his pocket, removes my hat and mask, and places the bag over my mouth to help me regulate my breathing.
“Ha…ah…, ha…. ah….”
As my breathing gradually steadies, he strokes my back, then pulls me to my feet the moment I regain some color. Picking up the fallen hat, he places it along with the water bottle on the clean car beside us, then drags me between that car and the wall, pinning me against it.
…Just like before, he lifts my thin top.
“Looks like you still haven’t adapted.”
“….”
Now without even a hat or mask—let alone glasses or sunglasses—my fully exposed face feels unbearably shameful, so I raise both hands and desperately cover my eyes.
“Why bother hiding such a beautiful face? …You’re popular, aren’t you? A girl who just became an adult this year already has millions of Instagram followers, shooting all kinds of ads. When people in Korea think of ‘Seo Jia,’ you’re the first one who comes to mind.”
“Th…at’s why…”
“Live with confidence. …There are more than one or two people who’d love to pull the same stunts on you that your manager did.”
Kang Juhyuk, clearly one of those people, slips his fingers into my pants and crouches down. Then he pulls something from his pocket, pops the cap open, and presses the unseen object against my skin.
Swish,
swish.
With an unpleasant sound and an unpleasant scent, he begins scribbling on my body.
“What… is that…?”
“Permanent marker. They sell them at the convenience store.”
Ticklish, yet heartbreaking, I am toyed with by his handwriting whose meaning I cannot even see as my pelvis is gradually defiled by his scribbles.
“You looked so uncomfortable walking around being so famous. …I changed you into an unknown civilian with only one follower. How’s that?”
“….”
The random ID I had typed without thinking, the password automatically generated by the phone—the sole follower of that secret account that no one was ever supposed to know about—now writes that meaningless string of letters and numbers onto my pelvis.
“Stay still. …I’m taking a picture.”
…With a satisfied expression, he closes the marker cap, stands up, slips his fingers back into my pants, and tugs lightly.
“…As expected from being someone’s sister, you photograph well.”
My wretched figure, face covered yet bare skin exposed, is captured in detail as he points the camera at me, unable to hold back my sobs any longer as tears stream down the face of the pitiful girl.
“Now you finally look your age, don’t you?”
“Sniff… are you… satisfied now…?”
“…Satisfied, my ass, you fucking bitch.”
Kang Juhyuk, who has not left behind even 1mg of compassion, roughly grabs my hair the moment the shoot ends.
“I’m never going to have the sex you hate so much. …If you don’t want to get fucked, take your tits out.”
“….”
“If someone comes, I’ll hide you by pinning you to the wall and kissing you or whatever. …If you don’t like that, take your pants off. I’ll turn you into a exhibitionist cumrag who digs up her secret account and posts lewd photos.”
To his crude, vulgar words, I lower one hand from my eyes and, for the first time, bare my bare chest—something I have never shown Hinami or my sister—before a man’s eyes.
Biting my lip, I sever the light I had kept in one corner of my heart, both as an idol and as a fresh young woman who has only just become an adult.