“Hello, My name is Nami. Please take care of me.”

A curtain of hastily brushed hair obscured her face from the disinterested class. The teacher didn’t seem to care much either, opting give Nami a dismissive wave towards the desks.

“Sit anywhere.”

Nami shuffled to the furthest seat away from the front. She didn’t care that the person in the seat in front of her scooted forward a bit, nor did she mind that someone loudly proclaimed she was looking to get her *** kicked for sitting in that seat.

She merely pulled out a blank notebook and began doodling. She had far more pressing things on her mind than the rowdy miscreants that served as her new classmates. Her aloofness was short lived however when the door to the classroom slammed open and a foot came flying into the side of her desk, sending it sideways from under her. Her notebook sliding and the pen made an ugly line down the page she had been on. She sighed.

“Who the **** are you?”

“Do you always ask the questions after you cause trouble?” she mumbled, grabbing her things. “It’s your seat, I get it. I’ll move.” Her voice was so quiet, the words failed to reach their target, but that didn’t matter. Nami wasn’t here to cause problems, she’d just move.

An arm reached out to stop her as she moved passed the person who lashed out.

“I asked you a question.”

Nami looked up then and stared him down. A flicker of recognition passed across her face before she looked away again, a smirk hidden behind her hair. She gently pushed his arm down before standing on tiptoe to get closer to his face.

“Nami.”

A shiver ran down his spine at how the name rolled off her tongue and registered in his mind.

She shuffled away to a seat on the other side of the room, resuming her previous doodling as if nothing had happened.

“Wow, Junho, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before.”

Junho spun around to face the girl who just boldly met his gaze. Mingi was right, he was rarely at a loss for words when he was annoyed. It didn’t matter, what mattered was the fact that she was out of his seat. And so, he sat, pushing the encounter to the back of his mind.

Class started shortly after, though Nami wasn’t paying attention. In a class full of delinquents, neither the students or the teacher wanted to be there, and whatever information they were supposed to be learning was disseminated in the most bored manner by the teacher. The clearly burned-out man didn’t even bother calling volunteers to read the materials or solve problems.

By the time lunch rolled around, Nami was nearly falling asleep in her seat. The bell alerted her to the beginning of the break, but not to the person standing just outside of her peripheral vision. She startled when she finally did notice them, catching a glimpse through the reflection of her water bottle.

“You’re pretty bold to take Junho’s seat like that. I’m Gunwoo. Nice to meet you.”

Nami merely gave him a wan smile, grabbed her bag, and walked past him. A light laugh and in just a few short steps Gunwoo had caught up to her.

“We came late, so I didn’t get your name,” Gunwoo chattered. He threw his arm around Nami’s shoulder and matched her pace. “You’re new, so it’s okay you didn’t know, but someone should have told you how things work here.”

“Aren’t you acting a little too familiar right now?” She asked, ducking out from under his arm. “I won’t sit there again, so that should be enough.”

“Ah, sorry.” Gunwoo rubbed his arm awkwardly but kept in step with her. “In any case, it’s kinda fun to annoy Junho, even if only as a joke, so if you want to sit there again, I’ll protect you. Everyone else is too scared to mess with him.”

Nami just ignored him this time, navigating her way to the cafeteria the way the school receptionist had shown her. Gunwoo was right behind her every step of the way, following her even to the empty table on the back of the large dining space.

“You really don’t say much do you?” He asked in between mouthfuls of kimbap. “Not that that’s a bad thing, just unusual. Aren’t quiet girls usually super nerdy? What are you doing in the delinquent class?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a rough place for a flower like you.” A tray dropped down next to Nami and she cringed away. “I’m Kyung; nice to meet you.”

Nami was about to respond when yet another tray was placed across from her.

“You left us for this random girl, Gunwoo? Even if she’s kinda interesting, we’re friends and we come first!”

“Shut up, Taehyung.” Gunwoo shoved his friend playfully. “This is uh…” he looked to her for an answer, but she had enough of their annoying behavior.

Nami sighed, rolled her eyes, and made to stand and switch tables. A rough hand pulled her down.

“Oh no you don’t, you’ve already started your meal. Don’t leave on account of us.”

Now she was boxed in, with Gunwoo across from her, one of each of his friends flanking her sides, and with a quick glance around, she could see two more heading towards the table. She would have to remember to eat somewhere else tomorrow if they were just going to pick on her.

“I’m Hanbin, sorry about these idiots,” the boy to her right said, trying to peer around her hair. “You should finish your food though.”

Nami didn’t say anything, just kept her mouth full as the boys made conversation amongst themselves. When she was finished, she surreptitiously popped in her earbuds and slipped away from the table. By the time any one them noticed she was gone, she was already halfway back to the classroom.

“She’s a bit dull,” Dohyun commented. “I’m surprised she said anything at all to you, she looks so fragile.”

“Oh, you got her name. What is it?” Gunwoo asked excitedly, turning his attentions to Junho. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

“Nami or something,” Junho said simply. “I don’t give a damn what she does as long as it’s not in my space.”

“So picky,” Hanbin teased. “She’s new so how would she know? None of those shitheads would tell her, especially if it meant she would potentially get beat up. They love a good show.”

“I wouldn’t hit a girl,” Junho defended. “What kind of monster do they think I am?”

“Pfft, they’re closer to the truth than they think.” Taehyung let out a hearty laugh. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what they say, right?”

Back in the classroom, Nami was napping at her desk, catching up on the sleep she’d been missing for the first three days of adjusting to her new apartment. Work was killing her, but if she could make it through this final semester of high school and finally work full time, she didn’t really care.

It was another few minutes before the classroom began to fill up again, but Nami remained in a state somewhere between sleep and awake until someone jostled her desk on the way to their own seat. She felt eyes on her and tucked her hair behind her ear, stealthily looking around and spying Gunwoo a few seats over grinning wildly.

Oh great, she thought, someone annoying to deal with.

As soon as the bell rang for the end of the day, she was up and out of the classroom in a flash. Even Gunwoo failed to catch her quick enough and she melted into the crowd of students headed home. She had a few hours before work and would rather use the time having dinner and quickly writing her homework, than making small talk with her rough and tumble classmates.

At least at work, no one cared enough to speak with her seriously. She liked it that way.

+

Nami wiped the makeup from her face. It’s was three in the morning and her shift had just ended. Usually sleep would come easy after she got changed, but tonight her mind was racing.

She’d seen him again.

He always made her heart race. Whether it was because he was one of the few clients who asked after her wellbeing, or because he was always so gentle with her, it didn’t matter. His voice and his touch had become something of an addiction, and it was getting harder and harder to return to normal life once all was said and done.

Twice a week he showed up at The Pearl Box. Usually, he would buy a round a drinks for everyone and then disappear into one of the rooms with Bora or Saerom. A half hour later he would reappear for another round of drinks and then leave. Until a month ago.

Both Bora and Saerom were fired for stealing from clients, and Nami picked up more shifts to cover. She wasn’t fond of taking on the girls’ former clients, but she was still new, and the extra couple hundred dollars in tips she left with every night was a big plus. And it was through these extra shifts she met him.

“You look uncomfortable.” Was the first ever thing he said to her.

“You’d be too if you had to wear a skintight dress in the middle of a heatwave,” she’d responded before her brain could regulate polite language. To her relief he merely laughed.

“Then how about I help you out of that dress and you can moan about how hot it is all you want?”

That was her cue, Nami had to remind herself. She offered a coy smile and allowed him to guide her towards the private rooms in the back of the nightclub. Her insides grew warm in anticipation. She had done this hundreds of times before, she should be used to it, but this was different.

This was him.

He’d always did seem nicer, always seemed to give a smile and greeting to all the girls, regardless of who he chose for that night’s companion. She was a sucker for a smile.

That first night she indulged him as he peeled the dress off her body. She moaned and left marks where her fingers grasped his back. She giggled when he placed butterfly kisses down her chest and met his fiery gaze as they reached their peak together.

And every day since then she would think about how lovely his voice sounded. She thought about how nimble his hands were when he helped her back into the dress. About how surprised she was when he asked if she wouldn’t mind sharing a drink together in the privacy of that room, and made sure she was okay to return to finish her shift.

It felt like a lie to accept his money.

Is this how Bora and Saerom felt? Did they share a drink with him, or did they wrap things up to return to the floor and the steady stream of clients looking for a pretty woman to soothe their aches and desires? Did they crave the feeling of his hands gently guiding her back to the main bar, where he left with only a smile and wish for her to have a good night?

She thought it was a one off, but three days later he showed up again. He seemed different somehow, agitated and restless, but still made sure every glass was filled at his expense. He greeted her rather abruptly, and before her mind could catch up, they were in the red and gold gilded room, her dress discarded to a corner.

This time, his hands felt urgent. His kisses felt desperate. This time it was he who trembled as she gently took control. It was different watching him from above, watching as his eyes struggled to remain open as he let whatever emotional tension ease away at her tender coaxing. They matched pace, and again eyes locked as they tumbled over the edge of release together.

He lay next to her for a few minutes. The only sound in the room came from their labored breathing.

“Do you ever wish you could undo a part of your past?”

The question was just above a whisper but she didn’t need to give it much thought.

“Always.”

Another silence.

“I never did ask your name.”

“Mina.”

“Call me Biho.”

She rolled over to look at him, and propped her head on her hand.

“That can’t possibly be your name,” she said. He mirrored her position and grinned.

“And Mina isn’t yours, I’m sure,” he quipped back. “But what do names matter? Haven’t we already passed that point?”

She couldn’t argue with that logic. Proper introductions were usually forgotten in her line of work.

As he did the first night, he helped her back into her dress and offered her a glass of water from the tiny bar tucked in a nook on the far wall of the room. Such doting behavior made her heart jump just as it did before, and she asked why he was so nice to her.

“I don’t have any reason not to be.”

When she returned home that night she couldn’t get the image of his smile out of her mind. Dangerous, she thought. It was dangerous to think of that smile.