"You're so smart, Hana, you're going to do great things one day. Go to university, and get a good job. I believe in you." My mother's voice fills my mind. That was before she got sick. Before my father got us into debt and used me to pay it off before I even turned sixteen. I frown as I come to, I keep my eyes closed. Something soft surrounds me and another smell greets my nose. Musky, and spicy, like a man. I don't mind it. It's nice, subtle. It doesn't smell anything like Seo-Jun who wears citrus scents. I open my eyes.
I'm not in Seo-Jun's house. He would never let me sleep in a bed like this unless I've serviced a guest. The spices come from the shirt I'm wearing. I pull the collar up over my nose and inhale. I close my eyes. It smells so good. I roll onto my side and pull my legs close to me. Continuing to take in the scent as I look around. I see nothing but sky as I look out the line of large windows covering the wall opposite me.
I take my time taking in the room. I don't feel like I'm in danger, or that I have to be on high alert. The last thing I remember is going with Jin and Bon-Hwa to pick up new girls from the dock. Everything becomes a blur after that. Did they take me somewhere? Does Seo-Jun know? I sit up and look at the shirt I'm in.
A graphic with big letters splayed across the top. I can't read it. It's not something Seo-Jun would put me in though. Not even to sleep. How did I get into it? With my bravery growing, I toss back the soft grey blanket and swing my legs out over the side. My eyes widen at the sight of my bare ankle. The tracker is gone. I reach down to touch the skin. Maybe I'm dreaming.
I put my feet on the floor and the cold tile runs a chill up my spine. I don't think I should be able to feel cold in a dream. This place is nice. A lot nicer than the house Seo-Jun has us staying at. He could afford much nicer, but he's wanting to keep a low profile until he's ready to go after the other syndicates in the area.
I stumble over to the windows and look out of them and over the ledge. My heart hammers. I'm so far up above the city, I think I might be in the tallest building. All the others appear dwarfed next to it. The cars on the streets below look like glinting specks. I watch the cars move along, like ants, for a while. It's hypnotic and almost freeing. I haven't had a chance to just be still in so long. I always have to look over my shoulder, be ready for Seo-Jun's anger.
However, I'm certain he's not here, wherever I am. I lift the shirt to my nose again, the scent also adds to my calm. Something about it gives me security. I can't explain it. Turning, I look around the room. Light grey walls, white marble-looking tiles. A large bed in the center of the right wall and a fake plant in the corner of the room on the table. There's a black door with a handle in the wall across from me. Another, gray one stands open to my left.
I'm not sure I'm ready yet to open the door and see what situation I'm in. The night before comes back to me; there had been a man, in the dark of the basement, he wanted me for something, and had put me to sleep with fingers to my neck. Beyond that, I have no idea what happened. Part of me feels like Bon-Hwa might be dead.
Padding across the cold floor, I make my way to the open door. and peek inside. A bathroom. I edge into it and turn on the light. It's empty, no one lurking. The shower is glass, and there's a jacuzzi tub next to it. It calls my name. I haven't had the chance to have a bath in so long, and I bet I can have hot water here, so it could sink into my muscles and bones and relieve some of the aches I have.
I close my eyes. Seo-Jun is fond of using a cane on me. I've hardly ever had sex with him. If I'm in his bed, it's because he wants to take his anger out on me. It's unspoken knowledge between us that he's impotent. It took a lot for him to take my virginity the night his father told us we were to be married. That, or he's gay. I've never seen him leer at any of the men that work for him though.
A full-length mirror hangs on the wall to the left of the sink. I go to it and peer at my reflection. The gray shirt engulfs me. I've never worn something like it, but I oddly like it. It makes me feel secure. No one can see my body. My breasts, my thighs, or my pussy. They're all covered. No one can leer at me in this or what to sleep with me. I lift the shirt, and find my skirt is still on.
Without giving it a second thought I take it off and look at it. I hate it so much. I look toward the wastebasket and chuck it into it, and it feels me with a sense of satisfaction. I wish I could do the same thing with the corset, but I don't know where it is. The thought that someone changed me out of it crosses my mind. Who are they? And what do they want from me?
I look toward the room, and the other door I know is in there. I suppose I should figure out where I am and what's going on. I can't stay in what feels like a safe space forever, eventually whoever brought me here will come in and pop the bubble. I leave the bathroom and cross over to the other door. I don't even know if I can leave. I don't see a lock on this side of the door, which means it must be on the other side.
Reaching out, I steel myself, holding my breath, as I try it. It lets me push it down. My heart hammers. I'm not locked in here. Slowly, I open the door just enough to peek out of it. Noise rushes into the room, voices, and music. I peer through the crack to a living room and what looks to be a massive TV or something else playing a movie.
A man sits on the couch facing the TV, his back turned to me. His head turns and his blue eyes find mine. I quickly close the door and stumble back from it. Hurrying I turn on my heels and go into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I then move into the shower and sit in the corner of it, my arms wrapped around my legs.
I'm not sure why I'm so scared, I felt safe before I opened that door. Perhaps I hoped a woman would be on the other side. Men, can't be trusted.
"Hello?" a man calls from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Miss, Hana, you don't have to be scared of me. I promise I won't hurt you."
He said my name. How does he know my name?
The handle of the door jiggles.
"Shit, you probably don't understand me. The other women at the house didn't know English."
I stare at the door, waiting for him to start yelling, or open it somehow.
I want to ask him who he is, but if he doesn't think I can speak English, this might be to my advantage. People say a lot of things they wouldn't when they think someone can't understand them.
"Miss, I won't hurt you. Please come out." A robotic voice says from the other side of the door in Korean.
My heart hammers more. I don't move an inch.
Another second later. "I'm going to go make you some food. When you feel safe, please come out and join me. I swear you're safe here." The robotic Korean comes through the door.
The other door closes with a click and after calming my heart, I get up the courage to get up and peek out the bathroom door. He's gone. My stomach growls. I can't remember the last time I ate, maybe the day before last. If Seo-Jun has a lot of meetings, it's unlikely I'll get to eat. I have to be ready for him and his guests at all times and that can't happen if I'm cooking food for myself. He never lets me eat the food I cooked for him and the men he would have over. And snack foods weren't a thing in his house. I think he has a fear of gaining weight, he was fat as a child from what I've seen of pictures of him.
The men who worked for him were left to make their own rice, or get food from other places, they weren't allowed to share with me or bring me anything. Jin tried once to sneak me a burger and he nearly got shot for it and accused me of trying to steal me from Seo-Jun. Jin was never nice to me again after that, keeping me at arm's length at all times.
Moving back out into the bigger room, I stare at the black door. On the other side of it is a man, a white man. I don't know what his plans are for me, but it can't be worse than what I've already had to endure. So what if he beats me, I'm used to it. If he wants to have sex with me, I'm used to that as well. There's not much he could do to me that I haven't experienced already at the hands of Seo-Jun. And if he wants to kill me, I don't think that sounds bad right now either. At least then I would be free to be a spirit again.
Before I can lose what little shred of a nerve I have left, I rush forward and wrench the door open. The movie on the large white screen is still, and the scent of butter meets my nose. My stomach growls more.
The man stands at a stove, a pan in front of him and a spatula in his hand. He glances over his shoulder, his blue eyes once again meet mine. He smiles. "You've come out. I'm glad. Just in time, too."
Opening the white cabinet to his left he pulls out a plate and then puts the thing in the pan on it. He sets it on the island that divides the kitchen from the living room. It's sparsely decorated, but I like the black reclining chairs and the matching sofa.
"Come eat."
I look at him again and then to the plate he points at. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I go over to it. It looks like some kind of sandwich, something I find they eat a lot of in America. Many of the white men I would service would ask for me to make them sandwiches. This one smells warm, the scent of melted butter lingers in the apartment and it looks to be brown on both sides. Something, perhaps cheese is melted in the middle. I've only gotten to try cheese once.
My father couldn't afford it, and Seo-Jun would never let me have it, except for one time when he was drunk and wanted spicy and cheesy tteokbokki. Surprisingly, when he's drunk, is when he's the nicest to me. He let me share the food with him then. He rarely lets himself get drunk. I think because he knows I like it; he rather let me suffer. I pick it up off the plate and smell it.
"It's a grilled cheese. Sorry, I don't know how to cook a lot of things, but I know how to cook that and instant ramen. Shit. I should get out that app, so you know what I'm saying."
I don't look at him. I don't want him to know I know what he's saying.
I take the sandwich with me and go over to one of the long chairs. I keep an eye on him as I curl up on it and draw my legs to my chest, covering them with the shirt. Keeping a distance between us is a good idea. If he comes at me, at least I'll have time to prepare. I watch him as he stares at me. I take a small bite of the sandwich and my eyes widen. It's so good. I take several more bites until there's nothing left. I lick the grease from my fingers. My body hums with happiness. I've never had anything so good in my life.
He laughs and I look back up at him. He has his phone out. He speaks into it. "I take it that you liked that. Do you want me to make you another one? I have chips as well. Didn't get a chance to offer them to you."
The app translates for him and I refrain from wincing when the translation is off from what he said. If I didn't know English, that app would just confuse the hell out of me. I nod.
He grins. "Another grilled cheese coming right up." He sets a bag of chips on the island. I've had Korean potato chips. I would love some squid crisps, that I would occasionally nic from the convenience store in Seoul before my life was changed. I wait until his bag is turned to me before I dart from the chair and grab the bag. I return to it within seconds. The fabric is soft under my feet and bubbled. I like this chair a lot.
Opening the bag, I take out a chip and try it. Not as flavourful as the ones in Korea, those taste more like potato, this tastes like air with a hint of potato and a lot of salt. I don't mind it. My stomach is happy.
"My name is Sean," The robotic voice says.
I look up at him as I put another chip in my mouth.
I know he knows my name. I nod.
"You're Hana?" He points at me.
I nod, again.
The salt fills my mouth, and I'm starting to get why Americans like these kinds of crisps. It's not for the flavor, it's for the salt. God, I'm thirsty.
He's back to making another one of those amazing sandwiches. I still don't know what he wants from me, but he's feeding me, so he can't be horrible. I'm going to risk talking but in Korean.
"May I have some water?"
He jumps and looks at me.
He moves to get his phone and holds it out toward me. "Can you say that again?"
"May I have some water."
Within seconds, the app translates my words and repeats them for him in English.
He smiles. "Of course." He turns and pulls a glass down from a cupboard, and goes to the fridge. Water comes out of a hole in the door and he brings it over.
I cautiously take it from him and sip at it. It still amazes me how easily they can get water here. In the country, with my father, I would have to walk an hour just to get one bucket of water from the river and it had to last two days, and eventually would be the water I bathed with. This water tastes crisp and clean. I refrain from gulping it down.
"Thank you," I say in Korean.
He nods. "You're welcome. I may not know Korean, but I know a thank you when I hear one."
Going back to the stove, he takes another of those sandwiches out of the pan and puts it on the plate. He brings it over to me. I put my glass of water on the floor and take the plate from him, still using caution. For all I know he could flip and attack me in the next second, wanting sex. It would be easy for him to get it, I'm not wearing anything under the shirt that could stop him.
As soon as I take it, he moves over to the sofa across from me and I watch him. I want to inhale the food, it's been so long since I had so much of it offered to me, I take small bites, wanting it to last as long as possible. For all I know, this could be the last meal I have for a while.
He moves to type something into his phone. We sit in silence. I have no idea what to think about any of this. There's still a chance I've died, and what I thought the afterlife to be isn't accurate at all. Perhaps this is the between.
After a couple of moments, he taps something and the robot voice feels the room with clunky sounding Korean. "I know you are confused. Wondering what is going on. I'm a leader of the Irish Mafia. I've taken you to get to your leader. I've assumed you're someone close to him due to the tracker I had removed from your ankle. If he wants you back, he'll have to hear me out, and learn he can't come into this town taking what he wants. If he doesn't listen, I'll kill him."
My eyes widen at that. If he kills Seo-Jun, I'll be free. His father would still own me, but he's in Korea. By the time he got here and found out his son was dead, I could be long gone.
He types something else, a second later the app speaks again. "You're free to roam around here, but until I can speak to him, you are to remain indoors. I don't want him taking you back. You can eat whatever you want, watch whatever you want, but if you try to kill me, there will be consequences.
Kill him? What he's proposing sounds like heaven. I've been out here at least fifteen minutes and he hasn't even had me bend over so he can fuck me.
My eyes scan over him, taking him in now that he's sitting down. His arms are covered in tattoos. I can see a few on his neck as well. It makes me wonder what the ones under his shirt look like. For someone so pale, he is attractive. I like his eyes. They remind me of a sunny day back in Korea. Like the cloudless sky, I would sometimes stare at as I was walking home from school. He's good-looking, I like the sound of his voice, too.
He types something else. "Do you understand? Will you be good?"
I nod.
He nods back. "Good."