A Scorching Day Chapter 64

“Fuck, why won’t this come off.”

Kim Byeonggwan grumbled as he tried to pull the black plastic bag off his wrist. The bag, caught on his thick, bear-like wrist, finally came off only after tearing halfway.

With a rustling sound, he spread the contents of the bag out on the table. The familiar smell told him what it was without even looking. The appetizing aroma filled the room, but Gawon didn’t even turn his head, lying flat on the floor.

“Hey, I bought tteokbokki, so eat up.”

“…”

“You’re not even answering now?”

Kim Byeonggwan didn’t have much patience. Soon he’d walk over, curse, yell, or drag him along by force. Even knowing exactly what was coming, Gawon couldn’t muster the will to move his body.

The days of trembling in fear before violence were long past. A sense of helplessness enveloped his entire being. Even getting hit, feeling the pain, shedding tears of humiliation—it all felt like too much effort.

“You fucking rag.”

Kim Byeonggwan, his face contorted with anger, strode into the room. As always, the man never deviated an inch from expectations.

“You can’t hear me telling you to come out? Eat. Come out and eat.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You eat with feelings? When someone buys you food, just shut up and shove it in your mouth. A man’s body looking so fucking pitifully skinny…”

That one was actually funny. A smirk spread across his face. Seeing Gawon lying down, looking up at him and laughing, Kim Byeonggwan huffed and stepped closer.

“What are you laughing at? You think it’s funny?”

“Just hit me instead. Spare me the pointless pity.”

“…What?”

“Since when did you care about my weight? Whether I’m skinny or not, what’s it to you… Agh!”

His patience, quickly exhausted, turned ruthless—he grabbed Gawon by the hair and yanked. Compared to his burly frame, Gawon’s slender body was dragged along helplessly.

Unable to bear the pain, Gawon staggered and planted his feet on the floor. His stumbling body was forced into a seat at the table.

“Should I shove a funnel down your throat and pour it in? When I tell you to eat, you say thank you and eat—what’s with all the bitching?”

“…”

“I’m the one putting a roof over your head here, so you think you’re something special, don’t you? Fuck, don’t get it twisted. You’re just a whore selling your ass to get by.”

“…”

“Out of all of them, you’re the lowest of the low. You hear me? Even at Cheonghyeon, there’s plenty of slicker ones than you. A cheap nobody who can’t even rank, acting like you don’t know your place.”

Gawon watched the man spewing abuse at him with cold, dead eyes. He no longer got hurt by the garbage that came out of that mouth. He’d been hearing it for over three years.

Kim Byeonggwan was always like this. He’d try to be half-heartedly nice, and when Gawon rejected and pushed him away, he’d unleash a torrent of verbal abuse and violence. If he’d just pick one, it’d be easier for both of them. The man, playing both the drum and the gong all by himself, was just laughably pathetic.

‘Idiot.’

Gawon cursed inwardly. Disgusted by the pig-like grunting voice, he turned his head away. At that, the man raised his fist and struck Gawon’s arm.

“Ah! Ugh…”

He gritted his teeth, but a groan escaped anyway. It hurt like being hit with a hammer. And yet, a scoff still escaped him. The man, who couldn’t even land a clean slap on the cheek for fear of leaving visible marks and instead hit his arm, was such a punk.

“You really wanna die? How dare you act like that. I spoil you, and you think you’re hot shit, you fucking rag.”

Gawon looked at the seething, huffing Kim Byeonggwan with pitiful eyes. Why this man acted this way was so transparent it was almost amusing. Kim Byeonggwan’s eyes were always one of two things.

Either burning with lust, or filled with hatred for Gawon, who deliberately and coldly turned away from that lust.

If there was a silver lining, it was that Kim Byeonggwan, who followed him around almost 24/7 monitoring his every move, didn’t dare to recklessly throw him down, even while handling him as he pleased. He probably wanted to but was forbidden. A mere guard and overseer couldn’t just play around with him and risk diminishing his value as a product.

Even on a day off, not being able to rest properly and having to sit across from this man he loathed to the point of disgust was practically torture.

Still, this was probably better than having to drink heavily all night and open his body to men… Gawon lowered his head, trying to think that way, and swallowed a sigh where Kim Byeonggwan couldn’t see.

∞ ∞ ∞

Three years ago, after his mother passed away and he was handed over to men, Gawon was completely cut off from the world.

On the first day he turned twenty, Gawon was declared dead in the eyes of the world. He lost the name Yoon Gawon and lost his face. In its place, he was given the alias ‘Yoo Huiwon.’

Without knowing who held the reins of his life, or who commanded those who bound him, he had to be dragged from place to place. Not a single thing he did—eating, sleeping, anything—could contain even a shred of his own will.

A stupid puppet. Gawon often thought of himself with those words. He wasn’t the only one whose life was held hostage here, but among them, he was the most ignorant and powerless.

It was only after spending over a year here that he learned: the establishment he worked at, ‘Maehwa,’ belonged to an organization called ‘Cheonghyeon,’ and therefore not only he, but all the escorts and hostesses under Maehwa, were under Cheonghyeon’s surveillance.

But the question that lingered in Gawon’s mind was: why was he subjected to such exceptionally harsh surveillance?

Other employees naturally carried phones, shared waiting rooms and lodgings, and came and went as they pleased. Since they were bound by debt anyway, they seemed to be granted a certain degree of freedom within a narrow radius.

But Gawon, alone, couldn’t go anywhere, nor could he even make a single phone call. Everywhere he went, Kim Byeonggwan followed like a master holding a leash. Complete isolation. Even though he was confined to the same establishment as the other employees, it felt like there was one more invisible cage around just him.

He couldn’t understand why Maehwa, which wasn’t even on the level of the high-end Gangnam club ‘Cheonghyeon,’ would assign him one-on-one close surveillance—something not even given to the escorts and hostesses there. It seemed excessive by any measure, just to manage a cheap nobody like him.

Perhaps the medical bills that even his mother’s miserable death and posthumous arrangements couldn’t cover were that enormous. Since it was an amount he could never repay even if he worked his whole life, they must have placed such harsh surveillance on him—that was the only guess he could make.

As if that weren’t suffocating enough, the people at Maehwa even treated Gawon like a ghost.

‘So that time, that dumbass pain-in-the-ass customer… Hey, hey. It’s Yoo Huiwon.’

‘Watch your mouth. Just pretend you don’t see him.’

Whenever the employees saw him, they’d hush up and clam up in unison, as if encountering a plague victim. Not the kind of treatment he’d been sick of since high school—hostility, ignoring, putting him down.

Not just the fellow workers, but even the manager of this place was extremely tight-lipped around Gawon. They wouldn’t meet his eyes, and when Gawon appeared, they’d even move to another spot.

To Gawon, they looked as if they were afraid of something. The way they acted as if their necks would fly off if they misspoke in front of him was peculiar. But why? For what reason? It was a question Gawon had no one to ask and no way to solve.

There had been a grueling process before he accepted reality and became a doll that had lost its will. Right after being brought here, there was a time he thrashed about like a fish hauled ashore and ruthlessly salted, and a time he struggled desperately to escape this place.

‘Please help me. Customer, just help me once.’

Gawon had knelt and begged in front of a regular customer who was particularly fond of him. Just one time, to borrow a phone.

‘If our Huiwon wants it, this daddy will do that for you.’

The middle-aged man, old enough to be his father, smiled subtly and nodded. Only after Gawon had satisfied him more attentively than usual did he receive the phone.

He had to call the police before Kim Byeonggwan came in. His trembling hand had just pressed 112 when, before the call could even connect, thugs burst in. Gawon was grabbed by the hair and dragged to the next room. Kim Byeonggwan, who always kept Gawon by his side, watched the scene with an indifferent face.

Gawon was locked in a room and beaten within an inch of his life. As Kim Byeonggwan looked at Gawon, sprawled out and unable to move a finger, he snorted.

‘Don’t ever try that pathetic shit again. You’re only hurting yourself.’

Hurting… Gawon soon felt the reality of that word. With his face swollen and split, his entire body bruised, he couldn’t receive customers. Just missing a day or two of work piled up millions of won in debt. The price of that desperate attempt at escape was that steep.

After repeating that process several times, Gawon stopped trying to run. Violence and coercion, coercion and violence again… Before the ruthless oppressors who held the knife, Gawon’s self—which had remained relatively centered and healthy—was rapidly damaged.

But there was something else he feared most.

After drinking the liquor customers forced on him until dawn, singing as told, flirting and taking off his clothes, being held in strangers’ arms… when he dragged his exhausted body back to his lodging and laid his head on the damp pillowcase, a fearful and sticky thought would invariably engulf him.

Longing.

That emotion, with a name as thick as a swamp, destroyed Gawon more devastatingly than anything else.

‘Gawon.’

Back then, you said your father was critically ill—what happened? You were already struggling with so much hardship, and with my absence added on top, how much must you have hurt? How much must you have suffered?

That affectionate child truly loved me with all his heart, so for a while, you must have run here and there looking for the vanished me.

And you… at what point did you forget me? With what heart did you bury me in your chest? What was it that picked you up when you crumbled and staggered?

Maybe it was thanks to the sport you loved so much. You were so promising in that area. By now, you might be active as the splendid athlete you always dreamed of being.

Or maybe, you’re enjoying a thrilling, shining university life. Attending lectures with classmates, going on MT trips, doing club activities… living a normal and happy school life like other kids, gradually burying painful memories in your heart.

Or else… if not that… maybe you’ve met someone new. You were always so good at drawing people in. With that kind and handsome face, the people around you wouldn’t have left you alone in sorrow for long.

What kind of person are they? The one standing by your side…

Do you stroke their face with endless tenderness, like you did with me? Do you greet them with a fresh smile in the morning, send coffee and snacks constantly, and kiss their forehead with warm, considerate gestures…

Joon, I pray every day that you didn’t hurt too much in the process of forgetting me. But I guess I’m really terrible.

Because when I imagine you smiling as dazzlingly beside someone else as you used to smile at me, then I find myself hoping you didn’t forget me too easily.

Just as I can’t forget you and struggle in solitude, just as I still do even now, three years later—I hope you, too, spend some nights unable to forget me, suffering just as painfully…

Tears fell drop by drop, soaking the pillowcase. The eternally long dawn ended, and the gloomy morning inevitably arrived.

Twenty-three. His own age, so young that no end was in sight, felt dizzyingly distant and despairing. Blaming a life that showed no signs of fading easily even in the midst of swamp-like despair, Gawon slipped into a shallow sleep.