What? The Life of Yeon-woo Lee, Born 2001
"What?"
I gasp. I open my Sextwitter account, clicking on the post without any real expectations... and my followers have doubled.
I only uploaded... a pic of my tits... and a finger covered in pussy juice?
Just two photos. That's all it took... My trembling fingers tap the post, and the views are already in the thousands. Dozens of comments too!!! You know that feeling when you check something casually and suddenly snap awake?
My heart pounds thump-thump-thump-thump. All this attention pouring in from total strangers. And their raw lust. My crotch gets wet again... Even though it's this sleazy, shadowy kind of gaze, I must crave it nonstop.
====
Come to think of it, I've always been weak to stuff like this. Praise from others. Especially compliments and attention on my looks.
"Aigoo? Is there such a pretty little baby? Oh my oh my!"
"Yeon-woo... here's some candy! You gotta eat it all by yourself, okay?"
From a young age, adults around me showered me with "you're so pretty" after "you're so pretty." Even the teachers treated me differently. At school, I was the center of attention wherever I went.
"Y-Yeon-woo, can you take this?"
"Pfft... what's this?"
"...I l-like you..."
On White Day, my desk overflowed with letters and candy. Guys always looked at me with more than just liking—they were hooked. A little push and pull, and life got way easier. You could feel the difficulty dropping.
Do girls escape it? Nah, even among women, the power structure revolves around beauty. What was pure stress for some in school was a flood of favoritism for me.
"Hahaha! Why's our Yeon-woo so pretty? You can't ever get married, got it?"
"Marry Dad instead?"
"Exactly! Never get married, just live with Dad forever! Promise?"
Even Dad favored me way more obviously than Jin-woo. Sure, typical dad-daughter, mom-son stuff, but after Mom passed early, the difference was stark enough to make me feel a twinge of guilt toward Jin-woo...
You'd think growing up drowned in praise, goodwill, and favoritism would make me numb to it... but nope.
You know that meme? The soccer player asked if it ever gets boring, and he's like, "Nah, every moment's thrilling and exciting." No way favoritism from others gets old. Why hate having an easier life just 'cause your face is prettier and your tits are bigger? As I grew up and my body matured into this scorching figure, guys' stares got stickier, more blatant—but unlike other girls, I loved that lewd, overt attention.
So in school, I aimed for the dance club. You know how those crews do sexy, provocative dances, right? At the festival, performing one... all those eyes locked on me. A wave of camera flashes like shooting stars. Cheers that made my body tremble. That high was pure ecstasy.
Later, I majored in aviation service at K University. Flying the skies, hogging the gazes of alpha males as a stewardess! Sounds badass, right? Picked my major on that vague fantasy... maybe dumb in hindsight, but that's who I was.
Anyway, I lived happily. Soaked in attention that never got boring, always wrapped in goodwill and favoritism. Felt like I was special. Like the world revolved around me. Cracking a flirty smile and watching guys squirm was fun. Queen bee in girl groups? Fun too. Plus, rich family was the cherry on top. Businessman Dad always spoiled me with cash. Bought me a Dior bucket bag for college so I wouldn't feel outdone by other girls.
Hmm... sometimes it felt like he saw me as a stand-in for Mom who'd passed.
But the higher you fall, the more it hurts, right? Dad's business tanked overnight. Something about bounced promissory notes—I don't know the details—and the house went to auction. My bags, clothes, all seized and sold off in a rush. Suddenly homeless.
Lost the house, crashed in hotels, then motels, then a goshiwon. Life's storm hit like switching from C major to C minor mid-piano piece. I'd been a greenhouse flower, pampered in endless goodwill, no real hardship—couldn't hack it.
Dad eventually fled from debt collectors in the dead of night. Left me and little bro stranded on the streets.
We ended up crashing at Uncle Yong-gu's somehow, but money was tight. My tuition alone was millions of won. Jin-woo's re-taker cram school fees. Uncle kindly offered help, but... I hated begging that far.
...Even if he covered it all, I'd been splashing cash like water my whole life—going frugal overnight? Tough.
So I pondered side gigs for pocket money. Part-time job? Cafe at 15,000 won an hour? Tried a couple months, but friends passing by teased, "Slumming it for the experience?" Quit on the spot. Bitches... They didn't know we'd gone broke yet (hid it desperately). Probably 'cause I'd been flaunting luxury before.
Ultimately, my biggest assets are face and body—best to monetize 'em efficiently. First idea: camgirl. But bad rep, face gets out, stalkers... Especially my uni friend Ju-hee Go. She did cams, got raped by a stalker. Fucker got a delivery job nearby, waited for her orders... Door opens for food, he pulls a knife, threatens her. Six hours, she said. Eek... Real stories like that scared me off cams.
No cams? YouTube or whatever... Needs talent, nixed. Auditioned tons for entertainment, but can't sing or act, nixed. Plus, fame-to-cash takes forever. Even mid-tier girl groups wait years for settlements, or quit without pay. Knew a failed idol friend—total flop.
Big agency trainee? Debut takes ages, cutthroat competition, high chance of endless practice with no payoff. Idol peaks are sky-high, but no floor... Too risky for stability-loving me.
I wanted something where face stays hidden but cash flows fast. 'Cause my dream's snagging a rich, hot guy long-term... better if my face isn't public.
Cams sell face wrong way, idols hard to debut/settle—so out. Straight prostitution? Too green for this naive college girl back then.
Room salon? Tenpro spots pay big, but I don't drink much, nixed.
Filtering options, then—bam—a DM pops up.
'Kiss parlor...?'
The manager scouted me from Insta for a kiss parlor promo DM... Most go straight to trash, but timing was perfect. I mulled it over forever, then went for the interview...
Scared shitless. Hadn't committed yet, but first contact with "those" people? Terrifying.
But the place? Bright, modern interior—total shock. Manager in a crisp suit, clean-cut. Unexpected.
Still reeling as he explains.
"Haha... this is smack in Gangnam. We only pick high-quality. Scout aces from Insta. Biggest perk? No sex. Perfect for girls who hate selling body but want easy cash... yeah, like you, Yeon-woo."
"No sex for real?"
"Yep. Literal kissing only. Sex is banned—illegal."
"...?"
"What? You thought this was illegal?"
"Huh? Kiss parlors are legal?"
"Kukuku... yep. That's why we're next to Gangnam precinct."
Wildly unexpected.
"S-So just k-kissing? For real...?"
"Yeah. And per session? Guess."
"...How much?"
"100,000 won. 4:6 split, you get 60,000."
"..."
Hmm... less than expected, bit disappointing. Manager reads my face, rushes to add.
"Ah, but that's standard ace level. For you, Yeon-woo? +20,000. 80,000 an hour. Deal?"
80k per hour. Three hours a day? 240k. Month? 7.2 million. Even part-time, 6 mil easy...
Biggest worry? Getting recognized. Seoul's 10 million people. Acquaintances? Maybe 500 tops. But what if...?
I make my final offer.
"Um... if I can wear a mask... I'll do it."
"....."
Manager's about to snap like it's ridiculous... then impulsively, I lift my tee.
"...With a body like this, customers'll come even with a mask, right...?"
