9. Drunk

"Sadly, I don't indulge in gossip; it's beneath me," Baekhoon said, closing his laptop.

"Then who's behind the office rumors?" I press.

Baekhoon shrugs nonchalantly. "No idea."

"Wow, I didn't expect they'd seriously take your side," I muttered, thinking of the gossiper in the design department.

Baekhoon rises, walks towards me, and gently lifts my chin with his elegant hand. "I'm grateful for that," he whispered low, his warm breath dancing across my skin. "Now, hurry downstairs and prepare dinner for me. I'm starving."

His intimate touch sends shivers down my spine, unsettling me. No one has ever touched me like this before.

-o0o-

One bottle, two bottles - the soju disappears before my hazy eyes. I've recklessly crossed the line, surrendering to Baekhoon's persistent toasts. My head spins violently, consciousness slipping away, each thought a blurry haze. My alcohol tolerance was only two or three drinks, yet I've downed two entire bottles. I feel like I'm drowning, suffocating, dying.

"Miss, Miss! You should head home! You're completely intoxicated." I vaguely hear someone's voice addressing me.

"Baekhoon! You!" I slur, grasping the clothes of the person before me. The room spins wildly, and my vision blurs. In my distorted gaze, this person is unmistakably Baekhoon.

"I'll kill you! You deserve to die!" I slurred again, stumbling around before collapsing to the floor, everything going dark.

Despite my drunken haze, I sense someone tossing me into a car – a man, by the feel of his strong arms. My rebellious heart screams, but my helpless body surrenders. My mouth tries to shriek, but only a faint moan escapes.

I'm being dragged away against my will!

I don't want to be kidnapped!

I don't want this!

When we finally arrive somewhere, the man ruthlessly pulls me out of the car and forcibly leads me to a mysterious building, perhaps a house. I desperately struggle, futilely hitting him, knowing my weak blows won't harm him. Panic and fear intensify my desperation.

"Let me go... I've already sold my soul, my dignity, everything..." I whimper pitifully, struggling against his unyielding grip.

"Don't take me away...please, just leave me be." My body convulses, and I heave, spilling the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

The man beside me yells in disgust, his face twisted in revulsion, as he grabs me roughly and drags me inside, my helpless form stumbling along.

"Sir, I've sold myself, but I want to sell myself again... one kidney, a lung, an eye, my bones, my chin..." I plead, clutching the man's neck. "But not my heart... I want to fall in love," I sob, my words dissolving into tears.

"What am I saying? Am I selling my body? No, I'm selling myself, but only using my services, not my body. Why don't you buy me completely?" My mind spirals into madness.

His face remains an indistinct blur, veiled by the thick haze clouding my vision. Everything appears distorted, my world spinning wildly, like a kaleidoscope of fragmented thoughts.

He gently yet firmly lowers me into the bathtub, forcing me to sit amidst the rising water. I struggle, feebly attempting to stand despite my jelly-like limbs trembling beneath me. His firm grip presses me back down, refusing to yield. Icy water envelops me, chilling me to the bone, seeping into my pores, and intensifying my dizziness.

"What the hell?!" I scream in frustration as he submerges me in the icy water, clothes and all.

The bathtub, once empty, now overflows with the sound of rushing water. The freezing temperature shocks my numb body, jolting me into a semblance of awareness, making me shiver uncontrollably.

"You’re really annoying," he murmured, his voice laced with annoyance.

I flail, clawing, punching, kicking, and shoving him with every ounce of strength I can muster, desperately trying to break free. Yet, his grip remains unyielding.

-o0o-

As dawn breaks, I slowly come to, my gaze falling on the rising sun. My head pounds with a dull ache. Groggily, I recall the dimly lit bar and the drinks that flowed like water. But how I got here? The question echoes in my mind.

"Who brought me home?" I whispered, confusion swirling. My eyes scan my body, and my breath catches. These aren't the clothes I wore last night.

No time for shock or dwelling on last night's haze. Memories halt at the dimly lit bar, and I'll unravel the mystery later. Survival beckons. I rush to the bathroom, bracing myself for another grueling workday. Bills pile up, debts suffocate me.

Baekhoon, you heartless brute! If you want me to suffer, why not just finish me off?

"Ma'am, aren't you eating breakfast?" Auntie Yoo asked, noticing I only sipped water.

"Please, call me Yongju, not 'Ma'am' or something. It makes me uncomfortable," I replied hastily.

"But..."

"I feel awkward when you're formal, Auntie."

"Okay, fine."

"Auntie Yoo, get my breakfast ready!” Baekhoon interrupted, impeccably dressed.

"Yes, Sir," Auntie Yoo responded.

As Baekhoon settles into his chair, I swiftly exit, skipping our usual pleasantries. His bewildered gaze trails me.

"Are you okay? If not, you should stay home!" he calls out, his voice tinged with concern.

I halt my stride without glancing back. "Even on my deathbed, I'd work. Aren't you eager for your money?" I snap, tossing a sarcastic glance over my shoulder.

A nagging thought hits me – how does he know I'm hungover? Unlikely he'd bother with someone like me. Shaking it off, I continue on my way to work.

-o0o-

I mop the fifth-floor hallway, my strokes mechanical. My mind drifts, consumed by life's brutal realities. Since Father's passing, my younger brother and I lost everything. That deceitful woman's grasp snatched it all away.

Since then, luxury has become a distant memory. I no longer frequent bars, dine at upscale restaurants, indulge in exquisite cuisine, or enjoy leisurely shopping sprees with friends. Wealth abruptly abandoned me, stripping away the comforts I once knew.

My friends I thought I had vanished when poverty struck, revealing their superficiality. Yet, I'm gratefully indebted to my late mother, whose wisdom taught me resilience and self-sufficiency, qualities that now anchor my existence.

Splash!

Out of nowhere, someone kicks the bucket of soapy water right in front of me, sending its entire contents spilling and spreading rapidly across the freshly cleaned floor.