The Invited Woman, Part 1
A three-star hotel in the middle of Rome.
Han Mooshik sat on the edge of the bed after a bout of sex with Jo Sieun and fished out a cigarette. His skinny torso was bare, tattoos crowded across every inch of it. He lit up, took a drag, and grabbed the phone off the table.
He opened the YouTube app and went into the channel under Jo Sieun's name. He checked the subscriber count, then the video they'd posted most recently.
"There! Fuck. Told you it'd hit."
Jo Sieun, still lingering in the afterglow behind him, asked, "Why? A lot of views?"
"Obviously. What did I tell you? These assholes bite every time if it's flag-waving shit or racism. Heh heh heh."
"Oh. The restaurant racism one?"
"Yeah. Look at the comments. Fuck, they're all screaming the place ought to be burned down. Dumbasses. Heh heh. I said it, didn't I? Post it like the restaurant racially discriminated against us and it'd blow the hell up. Look. Huh? Was I right, or was I right?"
"Give it here. Damn, for real. But they're not gonna sue us over this, are they?"
"Crazy bitch. You think those restaurant fucks are watching this channel? Since when are you famous? And if they sue, so what? We'll be back in Korea. They gonna fly over and arrest us? Huh? If you've got a brain, use it."
"Crazy bastard, listen to you. Ugh. But we're still stuck at ninety thousand subs? Fuck. At this rate, when do we even hit Silver?"
"Crazy bitch. Just wait. Fuck, you don't like it, take something off. Huh? Spread your legs a little and we'll crack a hundred thousand in no time."
"Crazy bastard. You make me sick."
"Heh heh heh. Then let's check the other one. How's Instagram looking?"
He logged into Jo Sieun's Instagram. It was her personal account, but the two of them ran it together, so he could see her posts and every DM that came in under her name.
"Fuck. Dry as hell lately. Land one decent mark and the money gets real sweet."
With barely any subscribers or followers yet, the creeps sliding into her DMs were rain in a drought. Hunt down the account owner, file suit, and the settlement came in nearly as fat as ad money.
He was skimming past the ordinary messages when one DM snagged his eye.
"What the hell is this guy? Kinda shady."
The intent was easy enough to guess, but this alone wasn't enough to spin into a sexual-harassment claim.
"What's this asshole even doing? He in Rome?"
He clicked into the account without thinking, and the Instagram on the other side was shabbier than he'd expected. Call it a recent post if you wanted—there was all of one. Checking the single photo, Han Mooshik's eyes locked onto one spot in the frame.
A moment later—
"Holy fuck! What is this. This real?"
At the sudden outburst, Jo Sieun came over. "What? What's going on?"
"Fuck. You see this?"
"This? What is it? The Spanish Steps. We were just there."
"Dumb bitch, look properly. Here. The wrist. You don't see it?"
"The wrist? What. Gross. A guy loaded down with rings and a watch. Kills my appetite. The watch is pretty, though. Whose is it? Expensive?"
"Ha. Ignorant bitch. You know what this thing costs? Huh?"
"This? How much. Oh my god, just say it. Quit playing. Fuck, like a hundred grand?"
"Ha. Fuck. You're adorable. Fuck, retail alone is over a million. Huh? They don't even sell these in Korea, so just buy one and walk it home and the resale jumps a few hundred grand, easy. Huh? You get it now?"
"What! A million! Fuck. What does this guy do? Whose account is this?"
"How the hell would I know, crazy bitch. Just some asshole who wants to fuck you."
"What? You don't see this? The DM. Tonight, InterCon, Royal Suite. Huh? Fuck."
"What. Royal Suite? That place has to be insanely expensive."
"Crazy bitch. That's the problem? If he's walking around wearing that, a Royal Suite is gum money. You get it?"
"What does he even do. Some chaebol heir?"
"Chaebol, my ass. Either a brat from a family with money, or some little shit who runs a business. Fuck, he wrote he's here on a business trip. Figures he'll hook a woman traveling alone while he's in town and get his dick wet. Piece of shit. For real."
But for all the cursing, Han Mooshik's eyes were still stuck on the watch on the wrist in the photo.
A moment later—
"What?"
"He wrote it himself. Meet tonight at the Royal Suite. Fuck. We go. Record you doing it with him. Same as last time."
Last time, an accountant had messaged her on Instagram, and Jo Sieun had taken him to bed and deliberately pushed the sex rough. She'd let loose with screams and sobbing, recorded the whole thing, and accused him of rape. The one who ripped the settlement out of him, of course, had been her boyfriend, Han Mooshik.
"Ah! We'll get more than we did off that accountant, right?"
"Are you insane. More isn't the point. Fuck, we make him hand over that watch. Huh? Walk out with just that and it's a million at the low end—no, a million and a half."
At a million and a half, Jo Sieun's face lit all the way up.
"Really! Eeee! Hahaha!"
She threw her arms around Han Mooshik. Their eyes locked, and they sucked at each other's mouths, crushed them, ground them together. The fire caught again, and the two of them plunged straight back into ecstasy.
The Royal Suite at the InterContinental.
He sat on the terrace, taking the whiskey in his ice-filled glass one sip at a time. The sprawl of Rome beneath his feet did the work of any bar snack. He lifted his wrist and checked the time. She'd be here soon.
Replies had come flying in to the twenty-odd DMs he'd sent that morning. Most of them were the usual.
Insults, or messages sent back out of curiosity. Tucked between them, though, there was, surprisingly, a hit.
They traded a few more messages. He had no interest in some misunderstanding dragging him into a headache.
So they'd agreed, and now he was waiting. Since getting married—no, even before that—he'd never done a hookup like this. Honestly, it scared him a little, too. To begin with, he'd fallen hopelessly short of what it took to pull a strange woman into a room. For a first try, though, the result wasn't bad. Of course, everything depended on what she looked like in person.
"Hope she matches the photos."
Long straight hair, a chest that had to be a D-cup. Full red lips, eyes drawn out long and sharp, sex appeal pouring off her in a steady stream. There'd be filters, sure, but that was part of the experience. Excitement and fear mixed in just the right proportions, and his heart beat fast.
Still, what kept one corner of his mind steady were the rings on his fingers. Ways to dodge attention, or to build an alibi, were more than he could count. If it came to it, he could simply use the dimension necklace and cross over into the other world. He fidgeted with the ring on his finger, and his nerves settled on their own.
And then the doorbell at the entrance rang.
Ding-dong.
She was here at last.
The woman he'd invited.
Seeing Jo Sieun's face, he was a little disappointed. Still, it wasn't bad. The filters hadn't been nothing, but the sultry eyes and the voluptuous body weren't far off the videos.
The moment she walked in, Jo Sieun's eyes went wide. She pulled out her phone and started snapping photos, then handed it to him, planted herself, and struck a pose.
"What?"
"Ha. Seriously. Mister. One look and you should get it."
Watching her stare at him like she couldn't believe him, he suddenly thought of his ex-wife. He knew that if he let her seize the initiative here, he'd be dragged along for the rest of the night.
"Do I look like your photographer?"
Caught off guard, Jo Sieun's face went sheepish.
"You want pictures, take as many as you like. You know the room isn't getting paid for in cash, right?"
She stared at him for a moment as if she couldn't believe it, then gave in. Early thirties, average height, a slight swell of gut—a textbook middle-aged man. But a man wearing a million-dollar watch and staying in a hotel room that ran ten thousand a night was not going to be easy to push around. That thought settled in.
She took a few more photos on her own, then finally sat across from him, reached for the snacks room service had set out, and lifted a glass of champagne. The glasses went back and forth a few times, and they slipped, easy as anything, into the next step.
"I already showered. What do you want to do? I don't mind if you skip it."
"Tch. As if. Then I'll shower."
Jo Sieun went into the bathroom alone. The sight of it put a smile on her face all by itself. The bathroom alone was bigger than the hotel room she was sharing with her boyfriend.
How much money does this guy even have?
For a second she thought about dumping her boyfriend and dating this one. But she still had no interest in going out with some potbellied mister who looked a good seven or eight years older. Not unless she were truly desperate for cash. String him up the right way, and at least a million was as good as hers.
With that resolve set, Jo Sieun took out her phone and checked the recorder. Once she confirmed it was working, she left it running and slipped it into her bag. Then she peeled her clothes off layer by layer and stepped into the shower stall.
The water roared down, and a little tune slipped out of Jo Sieun all on its own.