Power & Sex, And... 50
Portal sites still had "Assemblyman Park Maru, Rampage at Bar" sitting at the top of the realtime search rankings, and the comments on the articles were exploding. Among them, whether it was Jeong-ah's handiwork or not, there were plenty arguing that I couldn't possibly have gotten drunk and caused a scene since I don't drink at all, along with explanations of just how much respect I command in my district as an assemblyman. One such comment had racked up over 300 recommendations from netizens and ranked high up. Right now, with reporters and most netizens piling on one-sidedly, my allies boiled down to Jeong-ah and those 300-odd netizens backing her up.
I hadn't held out much hope, but surprisingly, the tone of the Ajung Ilbo article was fairly objective. It acknowledged that the facts revealed so far clearly warranted criticism of me, Park Maru, but insisted against a witch hunt based solely on one-sided information before the full prelude to the incident came to light. It even quoted Seo Dong-beom the reporter, noting that I was an assemblyman who doesn't drink.
I called Kim Jeong-gap of the Supreme Committee again and requested his presence at the 3 p.m. press conference. He readily agreed to attend alongside Jeong Sang-won of the Supreme Committee. After hanging up with Kim Jeong-gap, I phoned Seo Jeong-ho the assemblyman and Park Seong-hwan the assemblyman to request their attendance as well, and circulated a group message to all the National Assembly Reform Alliance assemblymen asking them to join.
"Jeong-ah, you busy?"
"Oppa. What the hell happened?"
"Didn't noona tell you?"
"Nah, I ain't gone into work yet. I'm hustlin' from home, makin' calls and shit."
"Gotcha. No big deal anyway, so don't worry. Can you come to the office now?"
"Yeah, gimme a sec to throw on some clothes."
After getting off the phone with Jeong-ah, I called Ara and my little brother to assure them this was all a complete fabrication on my part and put their minds at ease. Then I handed the draft press release to Chief Kim and asked for his revisions.
Less than 30 minutes later, Jeong-ah burst into my room panting for breath. She'd probably jumped out of the taxi, sprinted up, and taken the stairs two at a time.
"It ain't that urgent, so why's a grown woman runnin' like that?"
"Whoa, hold up—Assemblyman, you smilin' right now?"
"Girl, it's just me in here. And it ain't urgent. Nothin' to sweat."
"Still, your image is already trashed. Can't undo that."
"Can too!"
I played the recorded file on my phone for Jeong-ah too.
"This fuckin' bastard, where the hell is he! This dog-ass bitch, I'll smash those fuckers flat!"
"Hey! Girl, this is the office!"
Jeong-ah listened to the recording and got fired up, spitting out curses in her usual Gyeongsang dialect. Anyone hearing it would've agreed she had every right, but since she kept things prim and proper while working at the Members' Office Building, I was wary of her image taking a hit.
"Whoa, no way—Assemblyman, copy that file and email it to me, yeah?"
"Just do one thing. Oppa or assemblyman... call me oppa. You ain't my secretary no more."
Even in the heat of the moment, Jeong-ah fussed over how to address me. But she was in a rush, demanding the recording file, and stood up like she'd bolt the second I handed it over.
"Hold up. We ain't releasin' it yet anyway."
"Then when?"
"Press conference at Jeongron-gwan at 3. We'll drop everything then. For now, calm the fan cafe members."
"Wouldn't it be better to drop it quick?"
"Gotta know who's friend and who's foe first. Go sit at your old desk and work from there."
"Got it. I'm headin' out then."
Jeong-ah had barely stepped out when word came of visitors. I went to see and found Park Seong-hwan the assemblyman and two National Assembly Reform Alliance assemblymen whose names I couldn't quite recall. I ushered them into my room and asked for tea.
"Our Assemblyman Park stays so composed even in times like these."
"Yeah, well, I'm the type who don't overthink things. But what brings you gentlemen all the way here?"
"We gotta band together when times are tough. A single slip-up is just 'one night's mistake'—don't take it too hard."
"Thanks for the words. Gives me strength."
Unexpected reinforcements. Even without knowing the full story—or amid the one-sided portrayal of me as the villain—they were willing to help despite acknowledging my fault. Their generosity touched me.
"That Moon Assemblyman was over the moon hearin' about your mess. But why meet the party leader at that hour?"
"How could I turn down the leader wantin' to meet? Went in casual, ended up covered in shit."
"What's done is done, but you need a chance to rehab your image quick."
"Yes, thank you. Your words mean a lot. I'll call after the press conference."
"Cool your head first. Can't do a presser all riled up."
"Yes, thank you."
After they left, Chief Kim and I polished the press release draft when Do Cheol-rak barged in.
"How'd you get to Seoul, Cheol-rak?"
"Hyung-nim, let's kill that bastard."
"Outta nowhere—what? Kill who?"
"That party leader fucker or whatever."
"Cheol-rak, calm down and sit."
Cheol-rak plopped down and shoved an envelope at me. It felt stiff. Inside were a few CDs.
"That punk's the worst kinda thug. He'd sell out the party in a heartbeat."
I popped a CD into my laptop and played it. It wasn't just my meeting with the party leader—there was him meeting Blue House officials, the other party's leader, their heavyweight assemblymen, even folks I pegged as agency types. All captured crystal clear.
"Cheol-rak, how'd you get this?"
"That bar you hit last night? Run by a hyung of mine. Saw the dawn news, came up, and hashed it out with him."
"Why'd they have this?"
"You know how it is in our line—ya hang insurance everywhere 'cause folks bail when it counts. That hyung's just hedgin' his bets."
The CDs Cheol-rak brought were packed with mind-blowing dirt. Politics is full of schemes and backstabbing, sure, and self-preservation runs deep—but selling out your own party's assemblyman? I couldn't fathom the party leader's headspace.
Those CDs exposed not just the leader but our party's so-called heavyweights too. Spies would've been a kinder label. No wonder we're forever the #2 party.
I realized we'd need to tweak the press conference based on this, and soon compile it to shake up the party vibe. But before the party convention—that way we could purge the spies en masse and reform the party's core. Unexpectedly, one figure popped up that blew my mind: someone straight out of a 70s or 80s military dictatorship tale.
After handing over the CDs, Cheol-rak didn't even sip his coffee before standing.
"Why?"
"Gotta head down now."
"At least grab lunch."
"You're swamped, Assemblyman. Lunch later."
I couldn't sway his stubborn ass, so I walked him out to the first floor of the Members' Office Building. Starting from some flimsy connection years back, he'd helped me silently without asking for squat. Folks like Cheol-rak, who I had to remember—they moved me to tears.
"Let's order lunch in for us."
The aides didn't even snort at my words, heads buried in monitors, lost in work. Jeong-ah just shot me a look, shook her head like I'd lost, and grinned. What the hell—are these folks eatin' to work, or workin' to eat? Impossible to figure. Urgent stuff right now wasn't National Defense Committee prep—it was the presser soon.
Thanks to them, I could shelve Defense Committee duties for now and focus on handling this mess. When the committee met, I'd skim their handouts and parrot 'em like a pro. Just like a stand-in PM droning a Blue House script without a thought.
Ignoring whether they cared, I got input from Jeong-ah and the Grade 9 secretary playing office girl, then ordered lunch. Young twenties girls' lunch? Predictable: burgers, pizza, cola. Office menu today.
Ten minutes later, call from downstairs. Jeong-ah and the Grade 9 girl hauled up armloads of fast food. The office filled with fryer grease, fries, and pizza smells.
"Pizza again? Man, let's try kimchi jjigae for once."
"Pfft—you all zipped it when orderin', now complaints?"
Secretary Kim and the Grade 9 girl bickered playfully as the fast food scent spread, drawing the starving aides to the conference room one by one.
"Assemblyman, who's goin' to the presser?"
"Just Chief Kim and Jeong-ah. Why send nop for that?"
Truth was, Jeongron-gwan needed no prep. Just drop press kits on reporters' desks, I take the podium—done. No extra hands required.
Note.
Nop: Dictionary-wise, it means day laborers paid daily wages and food for work, but in Gyeongsang dialect, it refers to mobilizing neighbors for farm labor.