Taming (1)

"Die! Die, you crazy bastard…!"

I'd been hit before, but never seriously by a woman a full head shorter than me. She clearly had no idea how to throw a punch—she was clenching her fists tight and hammering away with her knuckles, so it probably hurt her more than it hurt me. Well, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just showed how furious she was.

"Hey, why are you hitting me? Stop it."

"You—fuck—what the hell do you mean, marriage? Are you insane? You? And what the fuck is this about a manager!"

Seo Haeun screamed at the top of her lungs while pounding on my chest. I caught her wrist and looked into her tear-filled eyes. Shame. Rage. Self-loathing. They were packed with nothing but negative emotions, which, in a way, made her easy to mold.

"If we're going to live together, you need at least that much of a cover story so you don't get kicked out."

"That's not the point!"

There was one word that explained why she was this angry with me: inferiority complex. What more needed to be said? Of course, Seo Haeun didn't feel inferior to me. It was her little sister she felt it toward. After seeing the way Seo Jia had looked at us like we were a pair of cockroaches—her older sister and the man who was supposedly her future brother-in-law—it was no wonder she was throwing a fit.

"Then what is the point? We already agreed to tell people we're lovers, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't we?"

"That's not what I—!"

"If that's not what you mean, then what do you mean? If two unemployed people say they're going to live in a three-bedroom house and mooch off each other, do you think your sister would just pat you on the head and say that's nice?"

"…."

If she had at least exaggerated about me and claimed I was some impressive guy, or exaggerated about herself to make it look like I was the one serving her, she wouldn't have gotten this angry. This woman was mad that her roommate looked like a slob while pretending to be her boyfriend. How tiresome.

Honestly, she wasn't the type of woman I wanted as a girlfriend. Her personality had too many flaws even for a sex friend.

"Haeun. Stop throwing a tantrum and sit down to eat first. You're just cranky because you're hungry, aren't you? Eat something and then think."

"You, you really think I'm your—your what—!"

"…Sit down, Haeun. Before I get angry too."

…Still, I let it slide because she turned me on. The way she turned obedient the instant my voice dropped was exactly like the little dog I used to raise as a kid. A small breed—timid but with a nasty temper, always growling when bored. Once I trained it properly, it listened beautifully.

Of course, training a dog and training a person were very different things, but in the broadest sense, the framework was similar.

"Haeun, I didn't bring up marriage or manager or any of that just to screw with you. If I leave you alone, what are you going to tell your sister? That you got raped, like you told me?"

"…."

"And if she asks why you're eating with your rapist, what will you say then? That you were blackmailed into it this time? Hey, fuck. Then I'll get sued by a famous celebrity and I'll have to spill everything—the recordings, all of it. In court?"

The most important thing in communication isn't the content of the words but the tone and eye contact. No one will take 'I like you so much' as a love confession if you're growling it through bared teeth. The same way 'I'm going to kill you' whispered sweetly into your lover's ear with tender eyes becomes an invitation to bed instead of a death threat.

Likewise, when Haeun said 'I'm going to report you!' in that terrified voice, it didn't mean she was actually going to report me. It meant she was begging to be punished.

"Haeun, whatever you were thinking when you agreed to live together, the two of us are only doing this because we need each other. When it's just us, you can swear at me or do whatever you want—that's your freedom. But when other people ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are watching, if you act out toward me, it makes both of us look strange. Do you understand?"

"…It was only when we were alone…."

"So that's not what's important. We're going to be living together for the next six months, so you can't just keep throwing tantrums. If I walk out tomorrow, how are you going to pay off your debt? If you don't, your sister will keep flying into rages every time she sees you, just like before. Right?"

"…."

Even if the point sometimes shifted, if the other person had no intention of fighting back, I could flip it without hesitation. Calming down a woman my own age wasn't a familiar experience, but Haeun lacked the experience to match me.

The life skill of giving seniors ten favors and juniors nine scoldings and one favor wasn't something you could learn from a book. You had to experience it yourself.

"…Let's stop fighting and eat. Damn, it's all cold now. All because some weird person barged in. Still, it's edible, so try it. I'm a good cook."

"…."

"Tell me if you want more rice. I can heat it up anyway."

"…Fine. I'll eat."

I finally managed to seat the woman who had been so difficult to feed at the table and served her the meal. Seo Haeun picking sullenly at her cold rice looked thoroughly grumpy, yet somehow it came across as strangely cute.

Ah, I really shouldn't enjoy this. I think I finally understood why my seniors during my playing days kept insisting I'd make a perfect coach when I got older.

…Taming others really was fun. And when the subject was a woman with massive tits and an insanely pretty face, it was naturally hundreds of times more enjoyable.

"Haeun, can I come in?"

"…Go away."

"Hey. Throw me some bedding. I didn't bring a bed or blankets in my suitcase, you know?"

I'd finished washing up and was sitting curled up without even drying my hair, but that bastard—completely oblivious—knocked on my bedroom door.

…Just leave me alone. He said he wouldn't touch me first.

"Haeun. I won't count you hitting me earlier as you touching me first, so just throw me the blanket. I need a pillow too."

"…Sigh."

But this time there was no excuse. It really was my fault. I had hit Kang Juhyuk first, and he had only grabbed my wrist without doing anything worse.

…If he had just pinned me down and raped me right then, I could have kicked him out since the recording was still running. Or if I'd honestly told Jia I was raped when she came home, like he said, it might have ended easily.

….Or maybe not. When I thought about that recording I still couldn't erase from my head, even I had to admit it didn't sound like rape.

"Thanks. Where are the blanket and pillow?"

"…There are spares in the closet over there."

"Which closet exactly?"

"Far right end."

"Be specific when you say things like that. I might accidentally open the clothes closet."

But whether it was last night, this morning, or rather at dawn, what had happened was clearly rape no matter what excuse you slapped on it. Just because I'd touched his phone, he fucked me without a condom, however he wanted. In the end he even forced himself into my mouth and came. Then he dragged the depressed girl to the bathtub and kept touching her until she collapsed from exhaustion.

…Fucking perverted rapist bastard.

"Are you going to sleep now too?"

"…Yeah."

"Then sleep well… Oh. I'm sorry about earlier. I got pretty angry, huh?"

"What…?"

But that heinous criminal casually spat out words I couldn't even bear to utter. Even when I shut my eyes and lied that he was my boyfriend to solve everything, but felt too ashamed and my breath caught in my throat. Even when I had to apologize for hitting him and ask him not to do anything weird since he'd touched me first.

"Why do you look so surprised? We have to live together for six months—we can't fight the whole time over something like this."

"…."

"I know your sister's got no manners and that makes you hysterical, so don't sit there with your hair undried, all hunched over because of it. What does it matter that she earns a lot and is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠popular?"

How could this man speak so casually in front of the woman he had raped? It terrified me how he seemed to genuinely treat me like nothing more than a roommate. It was clearly not such a simple relationship.

"And when I tell you to eat, eat. I went through the trouble of making it, so eat it properly. Picking at your food like that doesn't make me want to cook for you."

"…Are you a psychopath?"

"I've been called a sociopath, but no. I cry like a baby during sad movies too."

Seeing him respond to my ridiculous question without flinching made me feel like a real psychopathic kidnapper was lounging beside me. It was definitely scary and frightening. But like a kidnapper who wouldn't actually kill me.

"And I have a proposal for you tomorrow, so get a good night's sleep today."

"…What is it?"

"You probably won't listen if I tell you while you're depressed."

"I won't listen even if I'm fine. …Just say it."

He kept listening to me. Kept trying to make me do things. I didn't know why. Whether he was trying to win my favor… or if he simply wanted to try something with me.

"Uh… earlier when I mixed up the rooms and went into the next one, there was a soundproof booth. That's where you play guitar, right?"

"…Yes."

"You didn't go in there today. Quitting YouTube?"

"I don't know. …No one watches anyway."

"If you're going to quit anyway, will you listen to me just once?"

"…What is it?"

"Nothing much. I told you before. It doesn't make sense that someone with your face and body can't succeed."

"…Are you telling me to show my face?"

"Well… if you really hate it, you don't have to go that far. …Just filming from the neck down should be enough. For someone like you."

"…."

It didn't matter. That man was too good at lying. I couldn't tell if he was sincere, if he was teasing me again, or if he was scheming something.

…I didn't know, but my head nodded anyway. Somehow, it felt like it might actually work.