sheer facade

Even if he did hand over the job that easily. Surprise curdled Joongki’s stomach; he hadn’t expected an offer to come mere minutes after arriving in the office. All he had done was make claims about his waiting experience, and that was all. No request for a resume, references, or even names of the places he worked. He wondered if Jongkook would have done the same for anyone else, and then he wondered what he wanted the answer to that question to be. 

(Then again, Joongki could admit to himself that he hadn’t changed much. He was older, more mature, more confident–but he was still trusting and mostly honest. Joongki was someone that Jongkook could probably just take at his word. 

Just like a kid. One he could pity and toss coins at to get him out of the way.)

Joongki… probably hated him, didn’t he? He promised he would take care of him and his older sister for the rest of their life, but he broke that promise and left. Joongki would have hated him to the core for abandoning them just like that, just like how their father did. He mocked himself inwardly. It was such a joke and a slap to the face. Did he regret his choice? Probably. But he was young and inexperience back then, and a human who would make stupid mistake too. Still, he didn’t think it was a mistake to protect them, even if his method wasn’t the most ideal one of all.

He looked up when Joongki finally spoke, smoothly hiding his surprise and guilt under his calm and overly-detached facade. The smile Joongki gave him was too fake, and it bothered him that he was using this smile on him, despite knowing the reason why.

“You can start work next monday,” he answered. “Have Kwangsoo take you around to familiarise with the club for the next few days. He knows what to do.” Kwangsoo had been working for the club for years, he should be able to guide Joongki well. He turned to address the tall bartender. “Stop by Hyejin to get him measured for his uniforms later on. You guys can go off if there’s nothing else.”

“See, I told you that you don’t have to worry about it. You’d definitely get hired,” he remarked, despite the fact that they were still in the manager’s office and Jongkook could hear every words he was saying.

“I just hope Jihyo noona doesn’t try to burn the club down if she knew...” he trailed off as they walked through the door. Although before that she would probably kill him off first for good measure. “Come on, let’s get you to Hyejin noona to be measured for your uniforms. You’re going to look so dashing in those clothing and mesmerize so many people,” he laughed.

The very next day, Kwangsoo had suggested for Joongki to come along with him during his work shift since it was Friday night, and as per Jongkook’s request to help his friend familiarise with the club. The club had yet to openfor business but the staff were already around for preparation. He was about to explain and guide Joongki with all the rooms and areas of the premise, but then he got called off by another staff.

“Oh… sorry, man,” Gary apologised, “I was expecting Mi Cha-noona. She’s not here tonight?” he asked as he looked around the bar properly for the first time.

There were quite a lot of customers in the bar, sitting at the dimly lit tables, chatting in hushed voices. Waiters and waitresses were rushing from table to table, taking and bringing customers’ orders. But the black-haired woman, who usually was always here at this time of the day, was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where the woman was, if something had happened, but shrugged it off when he realised the tall man was still staring it at him with those confusing puppy eyes.

“Oh… right, my drink,” Gary said, looking at the bottles of liquor placed neatly on a shelf that ran along the entire wall behind the bar. “You know how to make a Negroni Leoni? That’s my fav. If not, anything else that has that rum in it and will make me forget about today, is good enough.”

Gary pointed to the red bottle of rum somewhere on the middle of the shelf. Santa Teresa 1796, that was his favourite kind of rum, sweet but strong.

“Mi Cha noona has something else on, so she won’t be here tonight,” he replied honestly with what he knew. The veteran bartender hadn’t explicitly stated why she wasn’t free, and it wasn’t of his business to go poking about. He wished she was here like usual though. She was friendly and always guiding him. Even when he was at a loss on what to do, she was still very patient with him, teaching him the ropes until he finally got it.  

Negroni Leoni? Kwangsoo almost wanted to say ‘What on earth is that?’ to the guy, but he held back his tongue in time. It was rude, and considered rather unprofessional of a bartender for not knowing how to mix the drink the customer wanted. Still, Negroni Leoni wasn’t a common drink that people usually ask for, and it was the truth that he did not quite know how to mix. He knew Negroni, yes, but Negroni Leoni? It got to be some kind of variation, right?

Maybe he wanted to leave a good impression on the guy since it was his first time being by himself, and so while he wasn’t quite sure how to mix it, he didn’t refuse the order. His gaze followed where the guy’s finger pointed, at the red bottle of rum on the shelf behind him. He hesitated, but then grabbed the bottle of rum anyway before rummaging behind the bar for other stuff.

“I’ve never thought of it like that before,” he admitted, propping his cheek against his palm and watching as the garnish was added to the cocktail. 

When the mojito was slid across the bar to him and the cost waived off by the bartender, Lay’s face lit up. “Thank you!” He pulled the drink closer and ducked forward to fit his lips around the tiny straw, taking a sip of the mojito, testing it. Thankfully the drink tasted as good as it looked. 

Kwangsoo grinned back and stretched his arm out for the shake. “My name’s Kwangsoo, but the people here like to call me ‘Kirin’ too,” he laughed. To be honest he was a little offended at that nickname at first, but he soon learned to accept it as a compliment for his tall height.

(He had always listened when Jongkook told him to do something. Not that he had done much ordering, but back then his requests were usually accompanied by–kinder expressions than the one he wore now. Joongki thought that he had long since gotten over Jongkook’s abrupt exit from his and Jihyo’s lives, but the way this cool reception hit him, it dug up the ghost of old hurts.)

It took a moment for him to find the politely pleasant smile he used on antagonistic customers, but Joongki latched onto it. If Jongkook didn’t care about seeing him again–and he couldn’t, he wasn’t even looking at him–then Joongki would do his best to pretend they were strangers.

(Jongkook was letting Kwangsoo stay, even though this was supposed to be an interview. Joongki pushed down the feeling that threatened to escape and the memories of all the times Kwangsoo and referenced this man he was close to.

It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter.) 

Before Joongki could answer Jongkook’s question, Kwangsoo interrupted. Joongki was grateful for it–it dragged him out of the past and back into the present. He needed a better paying job, and he was going to get this one, if he could.

But then here he was, the young boy he had used to dote so much and treated like he was his own younger brother appearing right before his eyes again, in a place that he didn’t ever want him to be sighted in.

Clouded by past memories and wandering thoughts, he didn’t give much thought to the forever tactless tall kid rambling by Joongki’s side. All he could focus on was the fact that Joongki had worked at bars and nightclubs since two years ago. Why did he have to do that? Did they lack money? The Jihyo he knew was so protective of her younger brother, she would never allow that, or did she not know where Joongki had been working at?

And then this all boiled down to one question. Should he let Joongki work here? It wasn’t a place he would approve of him working, but if he rejected him, there’s always the chance that he could approach other nightclubs to work at.

…at least he could keep his eye on Joongki if he let him work here. As much as Kwangsoo was a really troublesome kid at times, he could still count on him to help Joongki familiarize with the environment here.

Between the manager’s questioning and Joongki’s response, Kwangsoo sat silently on his seat, occasionally nodding his head to himself since there wasn’t any reason for him to speak. His friend needed the money and he knew how important the job was to him. Jongkook had always been very fussy and strict about matters concerning the club, but nonetheless he hoped that Joongki would get the job.

And it turned out his worry was for nothing. Joongki was accepted straight away, without even being asked a lot of questions. He couldn’t help but be a little envy of his best friend.

and yet, she can’t help herself from grinning.

“you’re almost thirty, that’s old,” she retaliated back with a mocking grin. lee kwangsoo is one of the very, very few people who get to see this playful side of her. she didn’t know if that was a good thing for him, though judging from the amount of disapproving looks and scowls she received so far, it weighed more that it wasn’t. “i was just kidding. hmm… how about you surprise me? invented any new mix yet?” 

the whole week was nothing but exhaustion. a few more bodies piling up to the mount of lives she took (rather brutally) with her own hands, had they been discarded in that manner. this place is her escape, not because it distracted her, not because the environment reminded her of life; but because the person, she has closest to a family, is here. perhaps, if she was his lost sister, things would turn out better.

and she can try to stop being a monster.

The tall bartender’s eyes lit up instantly when the younger female mentioned about a new mix. He gave Krystal the kind of suspicious smile that made it looked like he was secretly planning for something, but didn’t say anything much and started mixing the drink.

“Eyy you little brat,” Kwangsoo grumbled, stopping in his act of measuring the liquor. “That was a...” what was that called again? “...an analogy. Yes, an analogy.” He shook his head for the umpteenth time and continued with his task at hand.

“Just make sure you’re still in one piece at the end of the day to come annoy me,” he laughed, but there was an underlying tone of concern in his words. He had long lost his biological younger sister (she had to be still somewhere out there and alive), it would be another huge blow to him if anything did happen to Krystal.

The club was a cesspool for the lowlifes of Seoul, a place where the monsters that prowl the night came to unwind and drink their sins away. He’d had his suspicions that the bar was affiliated with one gang or another, and after a few shifts of work he’d all but confirmed his theory. The Carousel was crawling with members of the Diamonds. He’d spotted more than a few familiar faces milling about the crowded dance floor. 

Of course, now he needed proof. 

More than that, he needed to figure out if the Carousel was simply a source of cash flow for the gang or if it played a more integral part in their drug operation. Finding the answers to that one would prove a little tricky. The club manager didn’t strike Lay as the trusting type, and the staff had proven tight-lipped or ignorant to any of his questions so far. 

But the night was early… and that goofy-looking bartender was on shift.

So after Lay was finished changing into his stage outfit for the night (if one could even call it an outfit– he was sure you could see more skin than material), he made a beeline for the bar. 

The bartender was busy meticulously wiping down a glass when Lay reached the counter, so engrossed in his task that he failed to notice Lay sliding into the seat in front of him and watching him work. Lay twisted his expression into something like wide-eyed fascination just in time for the man to take notice of him and startle. 

Lay flashed a sheepish grin. “It’s so noisy in here that you wouldn’t have heard me anyways.”

“Nah, you’re not that obvious actually,” Kwangsoo chuckled, “I’d assume you are, since most newcomers do when they just started working here.” Unless said newcomer had worked at other places as a stripper before. Then again The Carousel was unlike any other club, being one of the biggest and classier nightclub where prestigious people flowed in and out almost like river streams. Whether they were really here to unwind or for the shadier business that went on in the club was to be determined, of course. It didn’t quite bother him as long as he got his job done, and beside his hyung always had it in his control to prevent any disruption to the club. 

“Any drink is liquid courage if your brain tells you so,” the bartender pointed out, as he began mixing the drink with fluency. It didn’t take long for him to finish the drink, as he topped the it with sparkling soda water, adding mint leaves and lime wedges to garnish the glass. He slid the drink towards the man with a wide grin. 

“Drink on the house. Lesser alcohol percent in that but would still calm you down enough, wouldn’t want you to get drunk during the performance.” Perhaps the stripper had a high tolerance for alcohol, but Kwangsoo wouldn’t know, and he sincerely didn’t think it would do him any good if he was the cause of a ruined performance later on. 

[...]

“I need a drink,” Gary mumbled to himself as he was walking through the dark streets of Seoul.

Passing another closed shop, Gary couldn’t keep himself from scanning his bloodied reflection in the dark window. I look awful, he thought as his eyes met his reflected features. His left eye was slowly swelling (he would have a black eye by the end of the night), his right cheek was starting to show the first signs of a bruise (it was going to hurt tomorrow) and his lip was bleeding (no spicy food the next couple of days). It was not unusual for Gary to get involved in fights, but he hated it when – like today – there was no justified reason for the brawl.  

He had all the reason to be anxious and fidgety, because for the first time ever since he had officially started his work as a bartender of the club, he was left to his own device. There was a shortage of staff that night, and the veteran bartender who was in charge of looking after him couldn’t make it today because of some personal issue. There wasn’t anyone he could depend on, except himself, which wasn’t really saying much, even though he had passed the bartender training and was deemed capable enough to mix drinks and serve the customers. God knew how tough the training was that he almost gave up halfway, but he endured through it with the thought of being able to find his sister, and for that it was already a miracle for him. 

The night went through relatively okay though, mostly because he could still handle the amount of drinks coming through to him, and soon Kwangsoo’s anxiety vanished entirely. He was actually enjoying his job, when he saw the satisfied look on the customers’ face when he served them the drinks they wanted. Though the ugly side of them getting drunk was anything but desirable to him. 

Wiping the wine glass as his eyes surveyed through the club for any entertaining event, Kwangsoo almost didn’t notice the man who had occupied the seat at the far right of the bar until he signaled to him. He almost dropped the fragile glass in a hurry, but managed to save it and scuttled forward. 

He paused, not quite knowing what to do when the man only gestured for a drink but did not specifically tell him the name of the drink. How was he supposed to prepare the drink if he didn’t know what on earth it was? 

Yet, as wonderful as it is to think of accepting this character’s help, Jaejun doesn’t think its in his best interest to exist anywhere in the plane of vision above the bar’s counter. Which would happen if he stood right now. So instead of accepting he shakes his head profusely, waving his hands in front of himself as if the first gesture wasn’t enough. He leans in conspiratorially though to let the man know his reasoning (and maybe also to put his hands on the fellow’s bent knees). 

“No help in that way please and thank you~ But let me just linger around here for a while? I’ll keep your kneecaps company? Because its better than keeping the boss and his cranky ass company you get me? I’m supposed to be keeping the company of many kneecaps and elbows, but-” and here he sighs dramatically and lets his head droop suddenly, like he’s a puppet that’s just had its strings cut. “Its sooooooo taxing.”

Kwangsoo’s outstretched palm was still left hanging in the mid-air, until the other man shook his head profusely, and thankfully the tall bartender understood his gesture well enough to at least retract his long limb back.

There was a few seconds of pause as Kwangsoo tried to grasp the situation in his brain, after the man finished explaining his dire circumstance to him, which consisted of keeping his boss, his cranky ass and many kneecaps (?) company, and how he came about crawling and hiding behind the bar instead. 

It was only then that the tall bartender broke into a laugh and nodded his head at the man with a goofy grin. He could totally understand the man’s situation, because this sort of thing wasn’t the first time it had happened in the club. All sort of weird things happen all the time, and while it confuses the heck out of him most of the time, he had learned to cope with it fairly fast. 

“You can stay here however long you want then,” he responded with a wide grin. His job was only to make and serve drinks to the customers, so if it doesn’t compromise that (the club manager’s wrath was something he wouldn’t want to risk facing), then Kwangsoo was rather happy to do it. 

He had wanted to talk to the man more, but then he heard his name being called, and realized he was still in the midst of making a drink. “Ah shit. Give me a few minutes,” he winced, hurriedly standing back up above the bar counter and finished making the drink before he could get in any trouble.

“Just say ‘yes, sir,’ got it.” Joongki fiddled with his tie one last time, making sure it was straight. This suit was his only one, and a few years old at that, purchased for another army buddy’s wedding. It was the closest thing he had to the club’s uniform, and at least he looked nice in it.

He took a deep breath in front of the office door to steady the last of his nerves. It wasn’t his first interview; it wouldn’t be his only interview, either. If this didn’t work out, he’d look elsewhere until he found something. But then Kwangsoo had the door open, and Joongki followed him into the office–

And froze just inside the threshold. For a moment, he wasn’t sure he had seen right–it had been eight years, after all, eight years since he last saw Kim Jongkook. It didn’t seem possible that he could gain even more muscle, or that he’d be sitting behind the desk in the seediest club in Seoul, or that he would just be there when Joongki actually hadn’t ever said goodbye to him.

There was no way he was going to get hired. Shit. Joongki bowed deeply anyway, and when he straightened up, he hoped that his smile masked the way his adrenaline had made his heart rate spike.

His face remained impassive, the facade shown to the public he had been carefully carved all these years, but inwardly there was an indescribable mix of emotions. Precious memories that had been carefully protected and stored at the back of his head was resurfacing and hitting him hard.

It was almost a relief to him that the scrawny little boy had grown so well into a man now, because it also meant that… his older sister was living well too, right? 

But darn that Kwangsoo tall kid. Why did he not mention the name of his friend that he was going to recommend for the job. If he had, he would at least be more prepared for it.

“Take a seat first,” he instructed, trying his best to keep his voice in his usual tone and gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk, before taking out a set of papers from the drawer.

“Do you have any experience in this line of work?” Jongkook kept his gaze glued at the papers in front of him, nonchalantly flipping the pages over. Joongki reminded him too much of her. “It can be quite demanding during the club’s peak hour.”

Sometimes it was all three of that.

But this time round he didn’t, and Kwangsoo happily concluded that it was because Joongki was with him, and that was why he was so amiable. See, his best friend was already bringing him good luck before he even got accepted for the job.

He took a seat straight away, before Jongkook could even finish his sentence, casting a slightly worried glance at Joongki who seemed to have stiffened up at his spot. Why was he even that nervous for this job interview?

In a way, he shouldn’t even be in the office with Joongki, since it was his best friend that was being interviewed for the job. But Jongkook didn’t seem to mind since he wasn’t chased away, and so he remained in the room, even if just to quietly give support to his friend.

[...]

But karma, after denying him a kinky boss that wants to pay him in orgasms, seems to be shining a light on the young drug dealer this evening. Karma has just allowed him to bump into the legs of his next discovery. 

“Heeey…” he says in a grumble as he sits up, rubbing at his head with slightly alcohol sticky fingers from the floor where he’d just collided into someone’s shins. Sitting back on his heels while still on the floor and looking up, Jaejun’s eyes widen when he has to keep looking up. And up. His mouth drops open somewhere between hips and face on this character. Maybe like belly button. 

Slapping a hand to the side of his face, Jaejun points up at the person who can only be a bartender, namely because he’s got one of those shakers in his hand but also probably because he’s behind the bar. That second part was iffy though because Jaejun wasn’t a bartender himself so– Actually correction. Jaejun was a failed bartender. He had failed where this figure had succeeded. 

It didn’t matter much though, because he enjoyed the work here, despite the danger it posed with all kind of normal and weird people entering and exiting the premise. And drunk people confessing all sort of things to him. It was... interesting to say the least.

For example, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that he would get bumped in the shin by someone crawling on the floor, with striking hair that stood out like a sore thumb, no less, while he was mixing up a drink for the customer.

He cast a puzzled look at said person on the floor, deciding whether he should be confused as to why he was on the floor, or why he was crawling behind the bar.

Briefly deciding that none of that mattered, and squatted down so that he was on eye level with the person. With the shaker in one hand, he stretched his other free hand out to him. “Are you okay there? Need help getting up?” he offered, eyes staring widely at him.

x daxkwangsoo

the red of her hair was brought out more by the gleaming lights dancing around to a certain beat. it was like a stream of flame licking at the back of her head, a flicker of light appearing in the middle of the darkness. though, of course, the irony of it is that a notorious killer like her contributed more to the darkness rather than being some kind of heroic light. she was nothing but another villain in someone else’s fairy tale.

krystal liked it here— noisy, chaotic, distracting; a small provision for the countless thoughts popping simultaneously inside her already messed-up head. there’s also lee kwangsoo, the annoying and unbelievably tall bartender, who took looking after her as a part of his daily routine. really, if he could have it as a job, he should be paid thousands for all the things he have done for her. and for the record, majority of it, krystal did not even asked for. 

The music blaring through the club shifted to a more upbeat one and Kwangsoo softly hummed along, his head nodding along to the beats as more orders for the mixed drinks came in. It was just like any other ordinary night, and perhaps an uninteresting lethargic one because there was hardly any fascinating thing going on that was worth his full attention.

Until he caught sight of the familiar striking red hair when he looked up upon the sound of the tapping of the counter. His grin instantly grew wide, but soon resigned to just sighing dramatically when she called out to him.

“Yah, it’s oppa, okay. Oppa, not ahjussi. I’m not that old,” he grumbled, shaking his head at her. “And did you just have to order that drink?” Dear lord, this young lady was set out to annoy the hell out of him, and yet he worries and cares about her like she was his own younger sister.