What Should I Do Now...
I'm so sleepy. A massive yawn burst out of me. I covered my gaping mouth with the back of my hand, pressing back the tears welling up with my fingers. Leaning my head against the chair's backrest, Kim Jinhee's voice standing at the lectern faded in and out. The motion of her wrist scribbling on the blackboard blurred at the edge of my vision, but I lacked the energy to focus.
I'd rolled around with Ayoung until dawn. Couldn't even remember how many times. If I closed my eyes, I'd fall asleep right here. We never used protection, not once. The thought flashed through my mind. Ever since that first creampie, I'd stopped caring altogether. What if I actually knock her up? ...Deal with it if it happens. No point stressing over it ahead of time and wearing myself out. If she has it, we'll raise it. Grandfather's face popped into my head. A chill ran down my spine, but if I handed him a great-grandkid, he'd forgive me. Forgiveness is always easier than permission, after all.
While I was lost in my own thoughts, the classroom grew noisy. Chairs scraping, bag zippers, footsteps all overlapping as students started filing out. I hadn't even noticed class ending. Straightening up, I scanned the room. Woochan and Yejin's seats were empty. They were handling the task I gave them, no doubt. Jinhee was tidying textbooks on the lectern, nodding to departing students as she stacked printouts neatly on top. Once the last one closed the back door, the room fell quiet. Footsteps approached. I turned to find Jinhee standing at my desk.
Unlike yesterday, color had returned faintly to her gaunt, pale face. Back in her usual suit, mask firmly in place. Her composed expression suggested she'd decided to accept my offer. I just smiled without a word.
"I'll do it."
"Do what?"
"Anything you want."
Her lips trembled faintly. I could tell she'd chewed over those words all night.
"Anything?"
"Yeah. Make me kneel, I'll kneel. Tell me to crawl on the floor, I'll crawl."
Jinhee stared down at me, barely holding back crumbling emotions.
"But promise me one thing in return."
"What?"
"Help me get revenge."
I leaned back, pretending to ponder as I gazed at the ceiling. Her eyes stayed fixed on my face, unblinking.
"Hmm?" I tossed out casually.
Her mouth opened and closed. "Why again."
Irritated low voice. I love it. This expression makes me want to torment her more.
"You're not gonna pull some depreciation bullshit, are you?"
"I found a girl, so now I wanna live right."
Jinhee's eyes flickered. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Wow... fuck..." She couldn't continue.
"You chewed me out last time for having a girl but fucking someone else. So I'm changing my ways."
"For real..." She looked like she wanted to explode in anger, but couldn't argue with "living right." Her lips pressed tight, swallowing rage—it was so cute I nearly laughed. After a moment with her head down, she looked up, brazen now instead of furious.
"You said you're living right, so just help me then."
"That's different from this."
She stepped closer, bending down to meet my eyes. A faint perfume wafted over as she neared.
"So what do you want? Money?"
"Eh, who knows. I've got plenty already."
"After taking everything so far?"
Jinhee snapped irritably. "Calm down. I'm not saying no."
She paused at that, exhaling deeply before her voice dropped. "...So what do you want?"
I leaned in close to her face. "Come with me first."
Her eyes shook at the proximity. Before the flush could spread to her cheeks, she jerked back. Only after putting distance did she jut her chin casually. "Fine."
We walked side by side to the parking lot. She got in the passenger seat, and as I started the engine, the exhaust rumbled through the chassis. First time Jinhee sat here fully alert. Usually, post-sex, she'd be limp, eyes shut, asleep before we even pulled out. Maybe that's why she couldn't lean back against the seat, fidgeting restlessly as memories of our fucks resurfaced. I gripped the wheel silently, and soon her gaze drifted sideways. I didn't turn. Through the side mirror, I saw her eyes roll my way, then snap to the window just before meeting mine.
Then the dashboard screen lit up. Call from Ayoung. I hit accept casually. Her voice flowed through the car speakers.
"Ji... Jinho."
Jinhee stiffened in the passenger seat.
"Yeah."
"You eat dinner?"
"Not yet. You, Ayoung?"
"Gonna... go soon."
"What's up?"
"Uh... well... just..." A pause. "Wanted to hear your voice?"
"...Yeah."
"We're meeting tonight anyway. Why?"
"Still... sorry for calling out of the blue."
My lips curved involuntarily. Cute auntie.
"Might be late tonight."
"Okay. I'm afternoon shift anyway."
"Might not pick you up, so take a cab if needed."
"Got it."
"See you later."
"Drive safe."
Call ended, silence returned save for the low engine hum. Then Jinhee spoke.
"Ayoung?"
"Yeah?"
"She's married, right?"
"Think I'm the affair type?"
"You're trash who'd do it."
"I don't steal other guys' women."
"Liar. If I had a boyfriend, you wouldn't have demanded my body?"
"Nope."
She clamped her mouth shut. Streetlights streaked across her cheek outside the window. It was red.
"Then why demand mine?"
"My type."
"Ha..."
She bit back a rising smirk, then failed, hastily covering the leaked laugh with a furrowed brow. My words had stroked her ego a bit.
"That call—was that the girl who likes you?"
"Yeah. Jealous?"
"Why would I be? Idiot."
"Way prettier than you."
I said it on purpose. Wanted her reaction.
"Doesn't matter if auntie's pretty."
She bit, as expected. Grumbling, but voice sharp at the end. Hated losing even while pretending otherwise. Drew lines with "contract," but chafed at paling next to another woman.
Fun.
"Jealous?"
"Me? Of what?"
She glared like I was absurd.
"Fucked you so much yesterday your pussy's still sore."
She froze at my answer. Blinked in confusion, then flushed crimson to her neck upon realization.
"What the hell. Pervert."
She yelled, voice cracking. Silence fell again. She stared out the window, feigning nonchalance. But her ears stayed red. Profile in the glass burned hot. Drew lines a thousand times with "contract" and "deal," yet jealous of the first guy's other woman's voice. Pathetic.
After long silence, she asked, "So where we going?"
"Meeting someone."
"Who?"
"You'll see."
Her brows furrowed. Wanted to pry more, but I faced forward. We drove on. Past downtown into outskirts, buildings shrank. Hotel signs flashed by; I turned into the underground garage. Out of the car, to the elevator. Ascending, she fidgeted, eyes glued to the floor numbers. I sidled close, dipping my head. "First time in a place like this?"
"No."
"Visited?"
"Followed professor to conferences."
"Stayed?"
"Too pricey."
"Professors didn't beg to share a bed?"
"Why would I with those fossils."
"So you like me?"
"...No."
Answer lagged a beat. I chuckled; she avoided my eyes, glaring at the doors. Ding. Doors opened. Down the hall to the room. Her shoulders tensed beside me. I rang. Footsteps inside neared; door cracked, chain on. Woman's eyes peered up. "Who?"
Smiling, "The one who contacted you."
Silence. Chain rattled off; door swung open. Jinhee's eyes widened at the woman, but she shut her mouth and followed me in. The woman paused seeing Jinhee. "Didn't say two people."
"Reference."
"No testimony in court."
"Just listen."
She sighed, slumping on the sofa, shoulders hunched. "Keep your promise."
"Of course."
We sat opposite. Jinhee sat silent, clueless about the setup, eyes brimming with questions but holding back.
"So, tell us what happened."
My words turned her head. Eyes bulged. Glanced at me, then locked on the woman. She hesitated, then spoke. Described her hospital's scheme. Diagnosing minors with depression, panic disorders. Prescribing psych meds—antipsychotics, narcotics—for "treatment." But drugs never reached patients. Diverted "treatment" stock went to junkies, then to rich kids craving power and cash. Street drugs risky; hospital-labeled clean stuff fetched fees. Recipients: no records, no criminal ties. Diversifiers: poor kids, no connections. Starts innocent—hospital scrip, not "drugs." Money rolls in; greed hooks them. Too late when they realize. Caught? Handled. Replaced. Plentiful supply. Yet tons diverted, never flagged in reviews. Hospital, panels, higher-ups—all in on it. Sujin was one dragged into the chain.
During the tale, I glanced at Jinhee. Drained face, white lips. But head high, fists clenched on knees, staring ahead.
Woman finished. Eyes shook uneasily up at me. "We're done?"
She snapped, "You promised."
"Already did. Check."
She pulled her phone, screen lit. Blinked, stood abruptly. "Can I go?"
"Your call."
Grabbed bag, left. Room quieted. Jinhee stayed frozen, gaze on the empty seat.
"Ha... haha."
Hollow laugh escaped. "Stupid bitch. Why didn't you say?"
Voice cracked. Probably couldn't. Her hands dirty too. Inferiority to sister exploding at that age. Eyes on the cash she'd never dreamed of. Ant hell. No escape. Disposable when done.
She looked at me. Eyes red-rimmed, no tears. Couldn't cry. Targets blurred, grief invalidated.
"What should I do now."
