Catherine Jung is a competitive model student. She maintains excellent grades, and she's popular for being both smart, beautiful, and for being the daughter of the school principal. She has the life envied and aspired by everyone. And then there was Vernon Choi, the total opposite. He gets into fights, barely makes it into his classes, always gets suspended, and is on the brink of being expelled. He makes everyone scared, if not disgusted. In their senior year, these polar opposites meet and secrets started to unfold. She isn't as perfect as she seems. He isn't as trashy as he seems. One sells pleasure. One does drugs. One escapes reality in cocaine. One hides a mental illness. When these two people on the brink of destruction meet, Who saves who? Or is there saving at all?
View MorePrologue
Trembling hands and anxiety-stricken eyes are all I could see in the vanity mirror before me. It was a never-ending feeling. But it was also a never-ending process of shrugging it off, of pretending none of this scares me.
I took turns in using random beauty products. Each glide of the mascara made my lashes longer and added life into the dead night that my eyes resembled. Dark shameless spots of imperfection hid beneath the concealer and yet another shade of eyeshadow made my eyes appear livelier than my life would ever be. Lastly, my parted lips welcomed the hue of red lipstick. Gone was its pale color and now, it was stained cherry wine.
It’s ironic how the mirror in front of me said pretty but I still felt ugly. It only proves how satisfaction and self-love aren’t defined by a mere reflection but start from within. No matter how hard I try, that seems unattainable.
The short length of my tight red dress revealed my thick thighs and lower butt. My shoulders and a portion of my chest were bare in its low neckline and thin straps. An ample amount of flesh was revealing enough to attract the beasts that roar and drool in lust. I am a prey to feed their libido, a taste to their hungry and deadly desires.
The clock struck 12 and announced my inevitable doom. I never get used to this. I am a willing victim but the fear whenever I do this is still making me shudder in my knees.
My high heels click-clacked through the floor. There were endless sighs before my wobbly fingers gripped the doorknob open. An enormous and loud feast welcomed the harlot. Flickering colors of red light, rumbling music, a large stage with poles in the middle, and faces unknown to me flooded my eyes.
Deafening cheers amid the loud music echoed when I stopped at the platform. The people before me are worshipping the queens of their sexual desires. Their eyes are glimmering in adoration but would never show the hidden instinct of wrath.
The sound of cheers became consuming. A lump of regret grew in my throat and suffocated me like a never-ending choke. River of fear and self-pity flowed on my pink-tinted cheeks. Shame crawled on every layer of my skin with each stare from the crowd.
Starting through the thighs and hips, I moved sexually, mimicking a vixen wagging her tail. Each second is a tease to their desires, the kind to make them want a taste of my flesh.
Half through the dance, I was demanded to go towards a particular table. I did as I was told. Freedom has long abandoned me and he had taken dignity with him.
An old man smiled at me. His hair was all grey and his forehead was wrinkled. The evidence of age was plastered in his face and his fortunes speak loud by the accessories that glimmered golden in his wrist and neck.
His lustful eyes lingered through me. His wide grin resembled a beast in disguise that was ready to devour. I stood in front of him, still like a flightless prey.
He pulled me closer to his lap. His mouth, devoid of color, met my lipstick-stained lips. I grimaced because he tasted cigars and expensive vodka. Cold and wrinkled hands traveled my body. I flinched when his hands searched places beneath my dress. His mouth mounted to my chest then back to my lips. I prevented my gasps of disgust, and through it all, I tasted salt beneath the kiss. Tears fell silently from my eyes.
Every second tormented me. Every touch made me want to protest. I wanted him to stop, I wanted to run away but I didn't. The protests and screams were all swallowed up and turned into a silent sob instead.
When he was happy, when he was satisfied and fully pleasured, he told me to leave. I walked away and left regrets and self-pity behind, and brought only a pack of cash with me.
I have so long wanted to escape but the privilege of choice isn't for anyone. You see, sex work is a choice but the exploitation that comes along with it is never a choice.
____
"I told you to stop doing it.." The faint note of hysteria in his voice made my heart clench.
My eyes trailed the golden hair and the blood-like lips of a boy who didn't seem to age by time. With his ethereal beauty, he seemed eternally youthful.
"I'm not. I'm not doing it anymore." I searched his eyes and tried to convince him.
His pair of orbs were glinting with upcoming tears. I held his cheeks. My frail fingers felt tender against the hard structure of his prominent jaw and cheekbones. Our heavy breaths became in sync like a sad yet beautiful melody.
"I'm fine. I have escaped already." I told him with a sense of pride.
"You did?"
I nodded.
His tears streamed down his cheeks. I drew his face closer to mine as he shut his eyes in an attempt to prevent the burst of his emotions. I hate seeing him like this-- vulnerable. It makes me want to hold him, to protect him from all the hurt the world would throw, no matter how bruised I am too. I would never want to hurt him. More so, see him cry because of me.
"I'm all okay now. We can leave and be happy." I whispered ardently.
"Where do you want to go?" A ghost of a smile painted across his lips, sending me beaming too. His smile is my smile too. His happiness, my happiness.
"To Busan, perhaps? To your good old summer house?"
"We'll leave, then."
"Really?" I asked breathily. The excitement conquered my heart.
"Yes."
It was late when I reached Busan the next day. Near its breathtaking coastline, the waves are forever reaching the shore and the faded crescent moon prowled in a corner, a perfect match to the crystal-like glimmers atop the pristine waters.
He came and looked at me with the fondness of the summer sky despite the current air around us, cold and ruthless. The warmth of the 5 am sun is nearing yet it seems forever unreachable.
"The sky is pretty, right?" I broke the silence.
"Yeah. But you're prettier."
"Oh, quit the jokes."
"Yes, you are the radiance of the stars and all the cosmic bodies combined."
My lips curved for the sudden use of metaphors.
“You’re good with words, aren’t you? You should be a poet.”
“I’m only good with those artful words when I’m with you. It takes such beauty to bring out the poet in me.”
"Well, I’m really happy that you’re here." I gazed up at him.
His lips raised for a subtle smile. His cinnamon eyes that always had depths of utter coldness were shadowed with softness.
"We should grab a ramyeon and some soju. I know the old Karaoke house, it's still alive. We could get drunk for a while then sing there. Like old times! I remember you singing to a k-pop girl group's song. What is it again?"
"As if it's your last." He laughed at the reminiscence.
"Majimakcheoreom." I sang.
"What do you say?"
"Yeah. That'd be fun. But it’s four a.m, for God’s sake, let’s grab a coffee instead.”
I laughed in surrender.
“Sure, ramyeon and coffee it is.”
He offered a hand which I gladly accepted. We trailed the long stretch of the shore in entwined hands. The cradles of the waves crashing through the coast were our music. Before us, the haze of the waking sun made the salt air a bit warmer.
Half through the walk when he stopped on his tracks, making me halt too.
"But you know tomorrow has to come, right?" He asked with a bit of concern.
I nodded and gave a reassuring smile.
"Of course. I know."
Tomorrow has to come and this will all be gone.
catherineI have never ran so fast my entire life. Seconds felt like forever. My tears fell without a warning. Strangers began to look at me as I stood and waited on the crosswalks, my knees staggering as I paced in agitation. Upon the stop light, I bolted my way to the crossing lane. I ran to the emergency room of Jung Hospital and I immediately found my sister. Naeun hugged me. I wiped away my tears as I tried to calm her."Hey, hey, it's fine. Mom will be fine. Thank you for bringing her here," kneeling down, I cupped her cheeks and hushed her down.Naeun called 911 when mom lost fainting and consciousness. According to Naeun, she vomited blood before that which our neighbor thankfully cleaned while I was in school. My nine-year old sister could only handle so much. It's bad enough
catherineI threw my head back laughing. Vernon suppressed his grin by biting his lower lip, leaning on his elbow, and tilting his head as he watched me. When all the laughing subsided, I found his eyes back, their honey-coated irises twinkling in amusement, and the lines on the side of his lips were rising."Is that really a thing?," my brows furrowed."Oh you can search it," he pursed his lips on my phone.I shook my head and laid beside him instead."I'm starting to think this is how you are as a boyfriend.""You mean?" He leaned his head on his palm. Now all that's left for me to see was his flexed
catherineWe collapsed beside each other, ending up entangled limbs and sweat-covered beings bundled in white sheets floating in a brief moment of ecstasy. I was still carried away in the bliss of the feeling but all of that dissipated when I heard Vernon mutter something."What?" I giggled upon hearing him say those words. As much as I wanted to sound unaffected, my feigned laughter turned too fake and nervous.I mean, that was too random and unexpected. I don't do boyfriends because I love them. I date because I like someone. And like is too shallow a feeling compared to love. With Jackson, I used to say I love yous but I don't think they were ever sincere. And they only came on the later pa
catherineVernon stilled in astonishment, gaping as if he had just heard the best news of his life. That flattered me, sent my heart warm and made it clench so good in gratitude. He inhaled sharply, stepped another inch closer and brushed his hand on my cheek. He crouched so our gazes would level.In a low quivering whisper, he seeked assurance. "Are you serious?""Yes. Why? Don't you want--" My words died in my throat. In one ferociously tender action, he kissed my strawberry lips crude and raw.Our mouth crashed at each other like converging tectonic plates, colliding in one violent haste-filled motion. His tongue reached down my throat. With its every flick, a bit of me withered.
catherineJB's house and his extravagant parties never fail to surprise me. The guy's a rich kid. Later that evening, I went there alone after declining Vernon's offer to pick me up.The familiar loud music filled my ears upon walking on to the door and my eyes were immediately overwhelmed for there was so much happening--one thing I never much liked about parties. The lights were dimmed, and some kids gathered in the living room, playing pool. On a corner, there was some girl twerking and the people around her cheering. By the sofa, a couple was dry humping, and on the near kitchen counter, a beer pong game was going on. The sight of it all was too chaotic but they seemed fun.I was greeted by a few girls, whose names I barely know. Some guys offered a high five and a beer but I poli
catherineVernon pulled away with a startled look on his face. It's not like we haven't made out before, and I could not entirely say those were meaningless, because no matter how I deny it, they meant something to me. But we have been strictly friends since that drunken night at JB's, and after that particular night in the bar. We've bonded like friends, studying, sneaking out in the library, and eating out together.The kissing part has already been foreign to me, yet the taste of his lips no matter how brief it was, resurrected the butterflies in my stomach. I distanced myself from him, suddenly feeling awkward after seeing him taken aback. My cheeks flushed profusely after realizing what I have done. I was never a conservative girl and a peck is nothing to me, but doing it on Vernon made me as shy as a middle schooler.
catherine"What can I do to help you, Cath?" In his hoarse bedroom voice, Vernon asked.The blinds of the unused classroom where we hid were all closed; prohibiting the tiniest sunlight in. We basked in the dimness of the room, only seeing the outlines of our bodies amid the shadows.When I had recovered from weeping, I laid on Vernon's lap as he sat on the desk. I didn't even know why I broke down that unexpectedly. It was just that he was saying so much, and my heart overflowed, and I had a downpour. I am the frailest emotional wreck at the moment, a lay of the finger could break me.He offered me his handkerchief which smelled of mint and the fresh morning dew from the woods, and I dried the ocean of my tears with its soft fabric. He and his handkerchief was the safety of
vernonAfter a few convincing, I made Catherine agree to attend a support group. I found the pamphlet at Daeyeong's desk earlier. He offered it to me after seeing that I have been eyeing it.Obviously, that made him more concerned. He asked me to talk about my "feelings" with him anytime or to talk it out with people who are going through the same thing. We weren't able to discuss more because I got pissed when he mentioned my deceased parents. It's not something I would want to talk to with anyone. But at least, I got the pamphlet. Upon reading it, I thought of Catherine.So that was what I immediately offered to her. At first, she was hesitant but for some reason, she soon heard me out."Okay," she said with the slightest turn of lips.
catherineThe anxiety and depresssion, it has happened to me a lot of times before, even when I was young and there wasn't really much to be depressed about.The first time I thought of dying, or wanting to die, was when I was eleven years old. I remember that clearly. It was my eleventh birthday and I got in a fight with my mom because she wouldn't let me invite my friends over. Don't get me wrong. My mom isn't a toxic parent, she was very nice and apologetic when she told me we had no money to celebrate my birthday and that I could not invite anyone. I, being spoiled and envious of my other friends who had nice birthday parties, threw a fit.My mom scolded me, and I tried to call my dad but he wasn't answering. It seemed like he didn't even remember my birthday. The open door of our classs that day gives an ample vi
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