The Goddess Comes to Clean
Saturday, 1:55 p.m.
Five minutes to go.
I opened the window of my studio and looked down. A narrow alley packed tight with old multi-family houses, all jammed together in a gray smear of concrete and rusted railings. And cutting through that ashen landscape, something utterly out of place was climbing the hill.
Choi Yura.
She had a hat pulled low over her face and a mask on top of that, but even from a distance those proportions, that presence, were unmistakable. This was not the confident stride she wore around campus, though. She kept glancing around, shrinking into herself as if terrified someone might see her, dragging each foot forward like a cow being led to slaughter.
She's here.
I smirked and shut the window, then looked around the room.
I hadn't cleaned on purpose. Clothes were scattered across the bed. Days-old dishes sat piled in the sink. Hair and dust rolled across the floor.
Choi Yura, the goddess of the business school. A woman who wouldn't have come within a mile of a stinking bachelor pad like this under any other circumstances — and she was walking in here of her own free will to pick up a rag.
That was exactly the first lesson I'd wanted.
Knock, knock.
A small, cautious sound at the front door. I didn't open it. Let her get a little more desperate. A little more anxious.
BANG. BANG.
"Hey! Park Dohun! I know you're in there!"
She couldn't take it anymore. Only then did I stroll over and open the door.
"Welcome, ma'am. Right on time."
"What? Did you just— ma'am?"
Choi Yura yanked her mask down, looking utterly incredulous. Her face was flushed. The steep hill had left her panting, breath catching high in her chest.
"You came here to clean, so that makes you the cleaning lady. What else am I supposed to call you? Want me to say madam?"
I didn't step aside. I blocked the doorway and looked her over. I'd told her to dress comfortable, and she'd shown up in an oversized T-shirt and leggings. She clearly had no idea how much more provocative that was. The tight fabric laid her firm thighs and calf lines completely bare, and the curve of her ass was impossible to hide.
"Move. Let me in."
She shoved past me, irritated, and stepped inside. The second she did, her brow crumpled.
"Ugh! What is that smell? Are you rotting a corpse in here?"
She clamped a hand over her nose, recoiling.
"That's just how a guy's place smells when he lives alone. That's why I called you."
I shut the door and locked it.
Click.
Her shoulders flinched at the sound. A sealed room. The two of them, alone. The fact of it landed on her skin. She looked from the locked door to me, uneasy.
"Don't... get any ideas. I really just came here to clean."
"Relax. Just earn your money."
I sat on the edge of the bed and crossed my legs.
"Go on. Start. You know the hourly rate's good. Do a sloppy job and I'll make you do it again, so be thorough."
"Hah... seriously..."
Choi Yura let out a long sigh and tossed her bag into the corner, then rummaged out a pair of rubber gloves and pulled them on. Well prepared, I'd give her that.
She headed for the sink first. She made a gagging face at the pile of ramen bowls and soju glasses, then squeezed detergent onto a sponge and started scrubbing. Every time she moved her arms to wash a dish, her ass in those leggings swayed left and right. The oversized T-shirt barely covered it, and every time she bent at the waist it rode up, exposing the round curve underneath.
"Hey. You missed the baked-on stuff. Do it again."
She whipped around at my criticism.
"I already scrubbed it! Come look yourself if you don't believe me!"
"Is that how you talk to your employer? Maybe you need a three-million-won taste of being put in your place before you get your head on straight."
"You son of a— this is disgusting."
She went back to scouring the dishes. When they were done, she started on the floor.
Mopping. It made for a far better show than cleaning on her feet. She got down on her knees and bent forward to wipe the floor, her ass naturally pushing back, her waist arching into the classic cat pose.
I slipped off the bed and came up behind her.
"Here. Under the bed too. That's where the dust is worst."
"I know! Get out of the way!"
She snapped at me and ducked her upper body under the bed. Her ass rose even higher. The T-shirt lifted, and a sliver of bare skin showed above the waistband of her leggings.
On impulse, I stretched out a foot and nudged her ass.
"Kyah!"
Choi Yura shot upright, startled.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you insane?"
Her face had gone scarlet.
"What? I was just checking if you were doing a good job."
"Don't lie! You touched my ass!"
"I didn't grab it. I tapped it. And be honest with yourself."
I took a step closer.
"You knew what you were walking into. A man and a woman, locked in a tiny room together — did you really think this was going to end with just cleaning?"
"What...?"
"Three million won. You're not stupid enough to think that's just a cleaning fee, Choi Yura."
I backed her against the wall. The studio was too small to run. An old wardrobe blocked her from behind.
"Stay away... I'll report you..."
She warned me in a trembling voice. There was no force in it.
"Report me? Go ahead. What are you going to tell the cops when they show up? That you walked into a guy's apartment of your own free will after taking three million won?"
"......"
"And your dad. He's about to get sued for fraud, isn't he? I'm sure he'd love the rumor that his daughter's out hustling men for cash."
"You cowardly bastard..."
Tears welled in Choi Yura's eyes. The feeling of her pride being ground into the dirt. But she couldn't argue. Her family was already collapsing, and she'd put out the worst of the fire with the money this man had thrown her.
"Not cowardly. Realistic."
I caught her chin and lifted it. Up close, her skin really was flawless. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and that only made her look more pure — and more tempting.
"You look pretty when you sweat."
I wiped a bead of sweat from her cheek with my thumb. She flinched, but she didn't pull away.
"I'll let you off today. Finish cleaning."
I let go of her chin and stepped back. I could have taken her right then. But eat too fast and you choke. I needed to wear her down a little more first. Until she stripped herself and clung to me of her own accord.
Choi Yura sank down with a sigh of relief. Her legs had given out.
"Hurry up and finish so you can leave. I've got somewhere to be."
I lay back on the bed and pretended to look at my phone. But out of the corner of my eye, I never stopped watching her.
She picked up the rag again and went back to wiping the floor, far more self-conscious now than before — how her ass looked to me, where my gaze was lingering. That tension was making her burn even hotter.
When the cleaning was done, she fled the apartment like she was running for her life.
"Wear shorts next time. Those leggings look too hot."
At my last words, she stormed out without even looking back.
Slam.
The door shut, and a faint scent of shampoo and sweat lingered in the room. I drew a deep breath.
"Smells good."
The space she'd occupied just moments ago. The floor she'd knelt on to mop. All of it fed my possessiveness.
That evening, I was at a pub near campus. Alone. A half-eaten plate of fried chicken and a tall beer sat in front of me, but I hadn't come here to drink.
My eyes were on the table across the room.
Seo Jisu and her boyfriend, Gang Minho, were sitting there.
"Baby, I swear it's not true. Why would I take hidden-camera videos?"
Gang Minho was waving his hands, playing the wronged man.
"Then give me your phone. Let me see the gallery."
Seo Jisu's expression was ice. She looked every bit the strict, airtight student council president she always was. But under the table, the fist she was clutching had gone white and was trembling.
The text I'd sent her.
That text was what had driven her here.
"Come on, why can't you just trust me? And you know this is an invasion of privacy, right?"
Gang Minho's face hardened as he hid his phone behind his back.
"Privacy? That's rich. If you've got nothing to hide, just show me!"
"Hey! Seo Jisu! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Gang Minho raised his voice and stood up. The classic trash-human playbook: turn it around on the accuser. People around them started murmuring and staring.
Seo Jisu bit her lip. If she kept fighting here, she'd be the one who looked crazy. But her suspicion was hardening into certainty.
"Forget it. We're done."
Seo Jisu grabbed her bag and stood.
"What? Hey! Where are you going!"
Gang Minho tried to grab her, but she shook him off and walked out.
I downed my beer in one shot and stood up.
Round two.
I pretended to stumble as I left the pub and followed Seo Jisu. She was crouched at the mouth of an alley, crying.
The girl who always pretended to be strong, completely broken.
"Sunbae?"
She startled and jerked her head up when I spoke. Her eye makeup had run; she looked like a panda.
"Park... Dohun?"
"What are you doing out here? Are you crying?"
"No. I just got dust in my eye..."
She hurriedly wiped her tears and stood.
"That text earlier... you sent it, didn't you?"
She glared at me.
"Yes. Did you check?"
"Minho... wouldn't show me. He said the password was wrong."
"No way. I told you it was 0000. That guy's too simple to change something like that. He panicked and lied."
I pulled a USB drive from my pocket.
"Want this?"
"What is it?"
"Backup files I pulled off Minho's computer. Hacked it."
The hacking part was a lie, of course. I'd just downloaded them from a cloud address I remembered from the leaked videos that made the news in the future.
Seo Jisu's eyes went wide.
"What's... on it?"
"There's footage of you, sunbae... and a lot of other girls too."
"......!"
Seo Jisu's legs gave out. She caught herself against the wall and sank down. She'd suspected, but still... her life, her pride, all sitting on that one USB. I could see the thought written on her face.
"If you report this to the police, that guy goes to prison. Your face gets plastered everywhere too, though."
I spun the USB between my fingers.
"What do you want to do? Want to take it?"
"Give it... give it to me, now..."
She reached out. I pulled my hand back.
"Nothing's free."
"What? Are you messing with me right now?"
"I'm not messing around. It wasn't easy getting this."
I smiled, looking into her wet eyes.
"Sunbae. I'm hungry. Want to go eat some ramen? I've got good ramen at my place."
"You... you're insane."
"Fine, forget it. I was thinking of posting it anonymously on the school board tomorrow."
"Don't you dare! You crazy bastard!"
Seo Jisu screamed. But I already knew. She could never refuse. The terror of revenge porn is worse than death.
I turned and started walking.
One. Two. Three.
"Wait..."
Her voice came from behind me. Resignation, terror, and humiliation, all mixed together.
"I'll go... I said I'll go..."
I stopped and looked back. Seo Jisu was following me with her head bowed low.
Tonight, my studio would receive another guest. Choi Yura's scent hadn't even faded yet. Now the student council president's would mix with it.