I stiffen in my chair. Whoa. This is not the reason I am expecting to hear. Once again, Sangwoo is one step ahead of me.
“I know what you are thinking, and I can assure you I’m not that kind of person.” Sangwoo’s eyes are pulling me in, deeper into this dark and vast world of his. “I just don’t want him to hurt you. You are a valuable asset to me May. I’m sorry you had to see it. I’m sorry you had to see my men defending you, protecting you.”
I swallow hard. Everything in my body feels numb. I want to apologize for being a fool, but at the same time showing Sangwoo my weakness will not get me very far. Even though Sangwoo may have ulterior motives that benefit me, I am still not convinced he is entirely honest with me. I am weary of Sangwoo. Time has passed since that very first meeting at The Trax. The feelings and emotions that I had for Sangwoo are subsiding and waning. It is not the same anymore. It may never be the same anymore.
“You’re dumbfounded,” Sangwoo concludes. He reaches over the table for the dark bottle of alcohol. Sangwoo pours himself another glass and motions to me.
I shake my head. I am one drink away from losing my sanity. I can’t risk my rationale at this point in the conversation.
“I want to pay you back the thirty thousand dollars.” I brave the notion. I force myself to look into the deep surprise treading in Sangwoo’s brown eyes.
“Pay me back?” Sangwoo tests the words out. His eyebrows come together. He places his drink back on the table. “Why would you want to do that?” Sangwoo asks clearly, despite the loud music thudding in the background.
I am suddenly uncomfortable under his stare. “I don’t want to sign the initiation contract. This life, your life, is not for me.” I secretly wish he could see the hesitation in my eyes and the fear in my voice. “Please.”
Sangwoo sits back against his seat. Out of habit, Sangwoo puts his hands together in a prayer position. Sangwoo’s brooding brown eyes harden. “I think you are missing the point May. I don’t need you to repay me thirty thousand dollars. I am not asking you to sign the initiation contract in place of thirty thousand dollars.”
“I thought when you said we could work something out this was the bargain-for-exchange? Thirty thousand dollars for the initiation contract? So instead of an initiation contract, I am willing to pay you back the money for the contract to be retracted.” I desperately want to make this clear. The anxiety returns with a vengeance inside of me.
The crestfallen look on Sangwoo’s face becomes deceptive. “I don’t want thirty thousand dollars from you, May.” This time, his statement is unforgiving.
I don’t know how else to tell Sangwoo I want nothing to do with his world. “Sangwoo, please. Let me pay you back. I can’t do what you want me to. I can’t sign an initiation contract. I can’t be part of your world.”
“Is this why you have been so distant with me?” Sangwoo asks. His voice is tough and soft, a dangerous combination. “You’re having doubts. You don’t have faith that I can teach you and support you . . . and be with you?”
My heart skips at his last words. He wants to be with me? What? I am helpless with this man. This gang leader has sugar dripping from his tongue. How do I fight such a demon under this package of a man?
“I can give you time.” Sangwoo offers simply. “You don’t need to sign or participate in anything anytime soon. I will give you time.”
“Sangwoo, I made my decision,” I insist. An overwhelming sense of discomfort grips me. “There’s no point in making you wait for something I have my heart set on. You said so yourself that you were helping me out with the thirty thousand dollars as a repayment for helping you that Saturday night when you were drunk.”
Despite my reminder, Sangwoo remains silent. Our environment takes over. The club music roars over us. The loud cadence encloses our reserved area. The flashing lights continue to spark behind us.
“I can give you the world,” Sangwoo speaks up and continues the point of ignoring me. He leans in, reducing the distance between us. Sangwoo’s mere presence renders me helpless. “Anything you want, anything you desire will be at your feet. Your stepmother won’t have to work such long hours just to make ends meet. You won’t have to juggle two jobs and go through the last two years of college with uncertainty. I can guarantee you the world. Take my hand and join me, May.”
I am speechless at Sangwoo’s words. Along with his melancholy and suave, I feel like putty in his hands. “Sangwoo,” is all I can make out.
“Trust me May. I won’t let you down. When you join me, everything you do will be a hundred percent legal. I will not ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. I need someone like you on my team. I need your tenacity, loyalty, and shrewdness,” Sangwoo counts my traits.
“I don’t have any of those qualities that you are speaking of,” I tell him. Don’t speak so lowly of yourself. You’re a catch! But I get it, you’re trying to sell yourself short to be less appealing to the gang leader. My intuition is eating a bag of popcorn as she waits for the cinematic climax of this melodrama.
“Tenacity. By insisting that you refuse to sign my initiation contract is a mark of tenacity. I don’t like to talk about myself often, but do you know how many people would be willing to give up family members, donate their pride, and leave behind their fears to be in your position?” Sangwoo asks. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Loyalty is what you showed to your cousin. I know you would do the same for me. And shrewdness is the passive-aggressive intelligence I know you have in you.”
“Sangwoo,” I protest.
Sangwoo holds up a hand to stop me. “I will give you time. You don’t have to say yes or no right now. Not tonight.”
I swallow hard, biting down on my bottom lip. The look in his eyes is hard to decipher.
Sangwoo reaches forward for the glass of alcohol he has for me. Sangwoo hands it to me and without thinking, I take it from him this time. What the hell, I might as well. I close my eyes as I swallow the cool and hard liquid. Where do we go from here? Don’t give it! My intuition pushes for more.
Suddenly, a voice replaces the loud music overhead. My eyes scale down the balcony to see Bryan gracing the stage. Oh no, what is he doing now? On the other end of the stage, Sangwoo’s men are loitering at a leisurely pace. The entire dance club houses Sangwoo’s men and only a few, selected outsiders. The thought dawns on me that Sangwoo has reserved the venue exclusively for tonight.
“You told me you don’t invest in nightclubs and bars,” I tell Sangwoo quickly.
“I don’t.” Sangwoo sits back in his seat. He has his eyes on the stage. “I inherited this place.”
I catch my jaw before it falls to the floor. I don’t have time to dwell on Sangwoo’s confession.
“Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention?” A booming voice resonates across the nightclub.
Meanwhile, Bryan heads straight to the DJ to retrieve a microphone. The DJ’s booming voice announces the special event. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We are hosting a karaoke event tonight. And a guest here is about to sing a ballad for someone special.”
“This is for you baby!” Bryan shouts. He points up to the balcony where Sangwoo and I are sitting.
I lower myself in my seat. What is he doing? I eye Sangwoo to see the corners of his mouth twist in amusement. Sangwoo is clearly thinking about Bryan.
“Let the beat drop yo!” Bryan suddenly warps into his other personality.
The resident DJ begins to play a smooth hip-hop beat, whining and turning with echoes of bass and treble. Everyone in the club stops dancing, talking, and even drinking to turn their attention to the stage. Smirks and entertained smiles pass from one person to the next. Bryan turns the microphone in his hand and makes his home on the stage. Grinning with confidence, he starts the first verse. What can he possibly sing? Please don’t rap, is all I can think.
“When a man lovesss a woman!” Bryan hollers over the microphone. His voice, melodic and falsetto in tenor, rings thro
ugh the venue.
“Wow!” The crowd claps loudly at Bryan’s first verse.
Oh wow. Who knew the kid can sing! Bryan’s melodic and heartwarming voice would have done the song justice if he didn’t overact.
“When a man loves a woman, he can’t keep his mind on nothing else. He’ll trade the world for the good thing he’s found!” Bryan serenades the microphone.
I stare shell-shocked at Bryan’s angelic voice. In the year and a half that I have known him, I didn’t know Bryan sings so well. I look up in time to see Sangwoo staring at me. There is a ruminating look in his eyes.
“If she’s bad, he can’t see it. She can do no wrong. Turn his back on his best friend if he put her down. When a man loves a woman,” Bryan croons in the background.
Sangwoo brings his drink to his lips. He turns back to face the stage. The light cascades his handsome profile. There is darkness to Sangwoo that, for the first time, I feel scared. His good-and-evil complex confuses me.
I force myself to focus on Bryan, fighting the tears that threaten to grace my eyes. I lose myself in the melodic hum of the music and the harmony of Bryan’s voice. The crowd circles the stage that Bryan stands on, crooning and pointing up to me. I don’t see them. I don’t see Bryan. They are a sea of people and I recede, like a faceless entity, back into the darkness with a dark demon sitting by my side.
BRYAN IS SICK AND THROWING up. Choi Sangwoo’s gang bought Bryan ten shots of alcohol after his rendition of Percy Sledge’s When a Man Loves a Woman. It was all fun and games when Bryan was drinking with them, but when he started dry heaving they all dispersed. It became my duty to help him vomit outside of Limelight half an hour later. It is almost three in the morning. I am exhausted.
“Ready to go?” Bryan hunches over the sidewalk, sliding in and out of consciousness. He shakes his head at me, motioning for another second of equilibrium. “Why did you drink so much?” I scold him. Poor kid. Seasonal gangsters take alcohol seriously.
“You shouldn’t have taken all those drinks from them,” I nag him.
“The drinks were free. Damn, gangsters will screw you up.”
“Oh Bryan.”
“How do you know gangsters anyway? Damn May, I always knew you were legit.”
“Hahahaha.”
I enjoy talking to Bryan when he is drunk off his butt. I pat his back in a rhythmic pattern.
“Good night, Boss.”
I look up to see Choi Sangwoo stepping out of Limelight. He is pulling on his jacket, but stops halfway when he sees my arms around Bryan. Sangwoo eyes narrow and I instinctively withdraw my arms from Bryan.
Sangwoo’s expression is hard to read. “Are you ready? I’ll take you both home.”
“You got shotgun May. I don’t want to sit next to him,” Bryan slurs in his drunken state.
Sangwoo and I exchange glances. “You have to excuse him, he’s really drunk.”
Sangwoo gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t worry. The feeling is mutual.” Leaving me to conclude what I will from that statement, Sangwoo comes up to Bryan.
“What are you doing?” Bryan whips around, but Sangwoo’s sharp reflex catches him.
“Taking you home.” To his credit, Sangwoo is a good sport for dealing with Bryan. I am sure any other guy would have left Bryan’s drunken butt on the streets. Despite the fact that Choi Sangwoo is full of surprises, there is one thing I am sure about him–he doesn’t act without rationale. Maybe that is what it takes to be in the gang leader’s chair.
A sleek, marble gray car pulls up to the curb. The valet, undoubtedly part of Sangwoo’s gang, steps out and hands him the key. The valet is careful not to make eye contact and bows his head. The valet takes Bryan from Sangwoo’s arms and puts him in the back seat. Sangwoo opens the door to the passenger seat for me expectantly. I slide in easily.
I have my seat belt on by the time Sangwoo slips into the driver’s seat. All is quiet inside the car. The emblem on the steering wheel lets me know I am in a Bentley. This is car number five or six since I have known him. The quiet engine gives nothing away as Sangwoo pulls from the curb. He does not ask me where Bryan lives. His limitless, stalker knowledge never fails to amaze me.
“How is your mom doing?” Sangwoo surprises me with his question.
“She’s doing fine,” I answer.
“Why are you asking about my mother-in-law?” Bryan snaps from the back seat.
I turn back and throw Bryan a dirty look. He blows me a kiss. I’m starting to really like this kid, my intuition laughs.
I catch Sangwoo glancing in the rearview mirror at Bryan. Sangwoo continues driving without a word; he turns on the radio. Music flows through the speakers and fills the car. Soon, Bryan slouches over in the back seat. I keep glancing at Sangwoo, curious of what he’s thinking. Again, Sangwoo keeps his eyes on the road with one hand on the steering wheel. The cool, calm, and collected way he appears in front of me is what drew me to Choi Sangwoo in the first place. I realize it is not his striking features, but it is Sangwoo’s presence and aura. Mayhem’s is on a different level too, my intuition croons.
Soon enough, the Bentley comes to a slow stop in front of the familiar terrain that marks Spyder’s house.
“Stay here,” Sangwoo commands to me. He gets out of the car and opens the back seat.
I watch as Sangwoo drags an unconscious Bryan out of the back seat with superhuman strength. He wraps Bryan neatly around him and stalks up to the house. Sangwoo goes through the gate and is at the front door in no time. When the door opens, Spyder sticks his head out. His jaw drops at the sight of Sangwoo. He bows deeply and listens with impeccable concentration as Sangwoo briefly explains the situation.
“Come in. Come in please.” Spyder steps back for Sangwoo to bring Bryan in. Then, Spyder stares at the car with no sign of recognition on his face. He doesn’t see me. The windows are too dark. With one last lingering glance, Spyder closes the door behind him.
The minutes tick by. I sit in the warm car. I want to kill Spyder because if it wasn’t for him, I would never be in the situation that I am now. The irony of being outside of his house strikes me as mocking. I try not to think about what Spyder has done to Lina. What can I do now? I cannot kill Spyder because that would be illegal. You can get Sangwoo to kill Spyder. My intuition is dark and brooding.
Sangwoo finally emerges from the house. He opens the driver’s door and languidly slides in.
“What did Spyder say?” I cannot contain my curiosity.
“Nothing important.” Sangwoo keeps his face closed. He starts the car again. “Do you have time to talk?”
Oh no. He wants to talk more about the initiation contract. Sangwoo really is persistent. “It’s late,” is all I can manage.
“Just thirty minutes of your time.” Even his way of pleading is classy.
I give in like the fool I am. “Ok. Thirty minutes.”
A smile rides on his lips. “You won’t regret it.” Sangwoo turns the car down the steep hill and guns down the road.
THE W SEOUL HOTEL IS bathed in decadence despite the fact that it is four in the morning. Early birds and late birds are sitting in the restaurant and bar area. Sangwoo and I are in a private booth towards the very back of the venue away from the public eye. Sangwoo orders me a cup of coffee and Spanish tea for himself. Both orders come with the hotel’s specialized pudding.
“Would you like to try some?” I look into the specks of light lingering in his eyes. Sangwoo offers me a cup of pudding with a small smile on his face. He’s at ease with lasting alcohol in his system.
“Pudding,” I repeat in my zombie state. It seems so trivial to eat pudding with him. I am exhausted and wired from the alcohol coursing through my system.
“Yes.” Sangwoo doesn’t open his container though. He takes a sip out of his tea, combating the alcohol he consumed earlier.
“I’ve never known a guy who has a sweet tooth,” I say. I drink my coffee, but I don’t open the pudding either.
“I don’t. That’s why I’m not eating mine. You?”
“Me neither.”
I am stuck with the ominous thoughts I reserve for him. I thought that after the little escapade with Bryan, Sangwoo would call it a night. Yet, here we are, back at his current haunt drinking tea and coffee. What a combination. Does this man ever sleep?
“So, are the feelings mutual between you and Bryan? You like him as much as he loves you?” It takes me a moment to realize Sangwoo is teasing me.
“Are you kidding me?” I blurt out in disbelief. “No way. He thinks he has a crush on me, but it’s nothing more than a game.”
“He is clearly in love with you.” Sangwoo settles against his seat. His eyes are studying me beyond reproach.
“He thinks he is.” I make a face. “He doesn’t know what love is.”
“Do you?” Sangwoo stops me in my tracks.
At a loss for words I stare out of the window just in time to catch a plane flying against the breathtaking backdrop of the night’s sky. I don’t answer him.
“What’s bothering you?” Sangwoo finally asks. “May.”
“I am still stuck on what happened to Danny today,” I admit, intertwining my thumbs on my lap.
Sangwoo’s eyes frost. “Why did you help him?” Sangwoo gives me the impression this is one of his burning questions.
“How could I not?” I blurt out. “He was hurt and in pain.”
“But he was willing to kill you last time,” Sangwoo justifies.
“I’m not that type of person.” I lower my eyes away from our intense eye contact. “That’s why I keep telling you I can’t do what you want me to. Maybe you’re used to such violence, but this is foreign to me. Gang or no gang, I couldn’t stand by and watch him get killed.” I hope my sincerity is getting across.
Sangwoo goes silent; he’s trying to read my mind. “He could have hurt you again if Ren hadn’t intervened,” is Sangwoo’s cold response.
April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions Page 32