Lies took the elevator.
Truth took the stairs.
Both arrived and met Revelation.
Jane killed a family in a car accident. Depressive and accustomed to self-harm, she decides to go back to where her life toppled upside down. Jane doesn't know what to e...
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An unknown decor welcomes my eyes, I turn, and the delicate spine of a short-haired woman says hi to me.
Then I remember how I left the club, too tired to take my bike, Ji Hyo, one of the waitresses, offered me a ride, and I ended here at her place.
Damn.
I have a rule; never sleep with colleagues.
What got into me?
My throbbing cheek recalls the events and the reasons that got me here.
Jane.
Anger consumed me; she overwhelmed me. I was out of control; I could have killed those men. That wasn't Jane but the rage I carry around like a Molotov cocktail. Jane was the perfect excuse and alibi I needed to explode; inflicting pain was my only objective, and I would have continued until I quenched my thirst if she wasn't there.
A shiver slides down my spine as I recall how Jane grabbed me.
How can she touch a man she barely knows so freely?
Anger and frustration tango in my mind, but I know she saved me from committing the worst.
I turn and rub both my hands on my face, cringing when I pass my cheeks. I shift back and stare at the woman beside me; she's sound asleep.
Ji Hyo isn't a lost girl; she's an anti-conformist, pierced, and tattooed. She sent Korean society waltzing to live free. She's 30 and works as a waitress at night while she does tats at Hongik in one of the many secluded tattoo parlors of the area during the day.
It's unexplainable, but I respect her, for she chose her lifestyle, deciding to swim against the currents of Korean standards. It deserves respect; that's why I call her noona.
I grab my clothes and get dressed. Once finished, I kneel down, "Ji Hyo noona, I'm leaving.
"Um, chalga [go well, bye]," she mumbles while waving her arm randomly in the air without even lifting her head.
Even the way she stands me off forces respect, Ji Hyo assumes her actions, and right now, she's aware like I am that it was a one-shot. I'm glad it was her. I know that there won't be any problem on Friday at work.
The sun is shining hard, and the heat is making my cheek beat like a drum. It's early, and I've not cooled off my emotions. With nothing planned for the day, I go home to change into my sports gear and head to the boxing club.
Boxing is cheap, and it's the only sports activity I kept up with these last few years.
I don't know why I feel stuffy. My mind is more crowded than usual, and the air in my chest is compressed.
I'm angry at myself because this idiot keeps popping up in my mind when I should be thinking of them. I punch, I've been boxing for five years now, and the activity has proven its utilities more than a couple of times since I've become a bouncer.
