Weak Hero: Satellite (Graywolf: Wolf Keum x Gray Yeon)

Chapter One; Page One

CHAPTER ONE

If you're not going to pay me

______________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Gray awoke to the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke- Not that Gray wasn't used to it, but unlike his other clients; this client didn't have that musky cologne smell lingering in the air.

The scent of expensive knock-off spray that'd usually overpower his senses, as opposed to this concentrated wet and smoky garbage scent. Gray concluded, whoever it was that'd brought him home last night was most likely some disgusting old man, and not the usual young nightclub party-goer that he was used to handling. And there was also a big chance that, based on the horrid smell, Gray might be lying on a germ-infested motel bed.

But when Gray finally opened his eyes (with much difficulty), he realized that he wasn't in an old rundown motel like he initially assumed, but instead in a nice modern apartment complete with a balcony and a king-sized bed. The only bad thing about the place was that it smelled like a wet gym sock.

But he wasn't going to automatically assume that this person wasn't a pervert just because of their nice apartment. He sat up, noticing a headache settling into the back of his head.

Surprisingly enough, Gray -in his two and a half years of working this gig- had never actually crossed paths with a stinky old man. His clients ranged from young adults to people in their mid thirties, and -not to mention- a good number of these people were actually exceptionally rich since the nightclub he works at mainly caters to young people with money.

But despite that, out of all the people he's encountered so far, he had never been taken home by a seriously gross person. Perhaps today was the day, the idea made him cringe a little bit though.

Surveying his surroundings, the emptiness of the room he was in, the stark white bed sheets covering his semi-naked state, and the light-pressed cavity on the opposite side of the mattress, he assumed that his client had already left before he woke up. And hopefully left cash as payment.

From the other side of the room door, Gray heard the clanging of metal chopsticks which told him that the client in fact did not leave the house yet- luckily enough, since he saw that there was no money left for him anywhere in the room (and he'd rather not try to rummage around in another person's belongings).

Along with the sounds of cutlery, followed a big 'thump' that resounded throughout the apartment, causing Gray to squirm a little bit in discomfort since the thump was so powerful that his headache got worse and he tried to press his fingers onto his temple to attempt to soothe it.

Despite his experience with dealing with hangovers, today Gray's headache felt worse than it was yesterday, considering that he did drink an entire two bottles of rich liquor.

His stomach also felt significantly worse, which is quite worrisome.

While Gray was taking some time to reconvene himself and calm the throbbing, the door opened slowly with a quiet squeak and the homeowner peeked into the room with squinted eyes.

"Hey, I made breakfast." The homeowner's voice was quite raspy, most likely because it was six in the morning, but nevertheless Gray felt familiarity wash over him. Taking a look at him through his bangs, he finally realized.

'Ah, I really messed up.'