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*Outside of Jung-bae's place, waiting around, smoking to get the edge off, Gi-hun practices his apology. He knows Jung-bae invested a lot to help Ga-yeong's Chicken Shop... and for it to go under, well, was it really either of their fault? People are cheap bastards, Gi-hun huffs.A man and a woman in expensive jackets spot Gi-hun, complimenting his face. And his body beneath Gi-hun's fish sauce-stained clothes.They offer him a club's phone number.It looks legit.Gi-hun first assumed a delivery job, but they assure him he could earn much more. By displaying Gi-hun's nice body in a safe, sterile environment. For ₩500 thousand + an additional tip given by whoever asked for him. And it was Gi-hun's won to keep.They employed men and women, indiscriminately, as well as accepted men and woman as paying guests?Eager to appease the loan sharks hounding him, Gi-hun smiles and signs inside of the neon-lit club... being left in this halved-off room separated by a glass wall... one side with a masked Gi-hun, undressed down to a thin, black piece of underwear, and the other side..."How much?"Gi-hun looks up from awkwardly rounding the lavender-neon platform, more exploring than dancing or taking orders for entertainment.Unlike the simple, black-fabric mask tied around Gi-hun's eyes, Gi-hun's customer wears mirrored gold."How much to watch you sexually satisfy yourself?"Gi-hun's heart hammers. "Uh... Mister, we shouldn't...""I plan to adhere to the rules." Mister No-Name himself uncrosses his legs to stand. He takes another drink of champagne. "No touching, no sampling... no exceptions." Gi-hun's eyes bulge as he unfolds a colorful stack of won. "You will be heavily compensated—"Gi-hun eagerly reaches through the glass tip-slot, startled when it is jerked from his fingertips.
"—afterwards."
He scoffs, annoyed.Nevertheless... Gi-hun nudges down the front of his underwear, wrapping a hand to his cock. Its length twitches. Foreskin slides, down-and-up. Gi-hun's cheeks flush hot. He doesn't remember the last time being almost entirely naked in front of someone... that wasn't his ex-wife...Gi-hun moans, slamming a hand onto the glass and jacking off quicker, focusing on the ever-tightening band of sensations...Lavender-light reflects on the gold mask approaching. Gi-hun wonders what kind of man does this... wasting mounds of money on sex clubs... he can never tell Jung-bae about tonight. Or about Mister. Especially about how Mister's tongue absently, wetly scrapes against exposed lips."Oh, oohhh shit," Gi-hun mutters, feeling that telltale tingle in his balls.
He thrusts repeatedly into his palm, Gi-hun's cock finally emptying. Pale lines of semen ooze onto the transparent glass barrier."Clean it up," Gi-hun's customer says, breathless. "We don't want any evidence, do we?"
Shit.
Gi-hun puts himself away, tutting. He licks up a warm, slickened glob with his mouth opening and makes a face.By the time it's realized...Mister already left.(They fire Gi-hun before long. Something about cameras. That's life—he smilingly strolls out with money to bet on and a mystery to forget.)*