A/N: I started this fic, I think over a year ago, in response to a request from a reader of my other fiction, who asked if I would please read this Korean manga (or whatever it's called in Korean) and write some fanfiction on it. Well, I read the thing all n volumes of it, and started to write my alternate ending. But then, after 2 chapters I set it aside and forgot all about it. I have since lost the computer that had the emails stored on it from the reader who requested this fiction. But I came across the fic recently and decided to finish it. It came out, a little different than I had intended. But here it is. And as ever, please note that I do not own HotBloodedWoman or any of the characters portrayed herein. Nor do I own the lyrics with which I start he chapters, those are by bob seger. Ok. Here we go. - - -
So it Goes
Chapter 1.
Teaser
You always said, the cards would never do you wrong
The trick you said was never play the game too long
A gambler's share, the only risk that you would take
The only loss you could forsake
The only bluff you couldn't fake
It is a bar like any other, a little more upscale than some, catering to younger crowds. College kids mainly, a few uppity high school seniors, A few desperate salarymen, thinking that college girls are easy lays. The usual. Nothing out of the ordinary here.
For example, seated over there: two youngish gentlemen. Nineteen, maybe twenty? Good looking, the both of them: one seeming a wee bit bookish with his stylish glasses and serious expression, lit as it is, every once in a while, with an infectious smile, his guileless eyes mirroring his every mood. The other, more wild, but cuter, with sharply angled features, and the longest eyelashes you've ever seen. Hairstyle a bit dated. Who wears a rattail anymore? They could be a gay couple-- nothing wrong with that, these days, nothing special at all. They could be out trolling for girls, like so many of the other clusters of men, too shy to approach the objects of their desires. Yes, perfectly ordinary. Until they start to speak.
Well ok, maybe they aren't so ordinary after all.
Maybe they never were.
"That wasn't how it happened, you know."
"What wasn't?"
"Don't play dumb. I know you still keep in touch. You should remember to close your email when you're not at the computer."
A shrug
"Or perhaps you do it deliberately. It doesn't matter."
Silence. It could have been agreement. It could have been the tacit equivalent of 'smile and nod.'
"My last three girlfriends looked like her."
"I noticed." Dryly.
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Thanks, by the way."
"You've got to stop breaking your toys. There's only so many times your family's going to cover for you."
"Whine, whine, whine. What are you, my conscience? Besides, it's not like I killed them or anything."
"Still. . . "
"Yeah, funny isn't it? You know, when she was. . . not herself. . . I couldn't do a thing to hurt her body. I know every scar, how she got every single one, I can catalogue all her broken bones over the years. Even now. She was. . . is. . . beautiful. She Was perfect. . . But hurting that other, it was so easy. Why is that, do you think? It was her, and no one else, despite the clear skin, the straight and fragile bones. Beauty. Hah! Aram was fucking flawless perfection compared to Ha Ji. But I never wanted to punish Ha Ji the way I did Aram. Even though. . ."
"Even though the soul was what really mattered."
"Yeah, or whatever."
Silence. The faint glow of embers, the swirl of smoke in the dim air. A background of heavy bass, so deep as to be more subliminal than heard. A shaking felt in the bones, and a thrumming in the heart.
"Whiskey tastes like shit. Why do I drink this crap?"
"It goes with the cigarettes."
"Oh yeah."
Around them, a swirl of activity, people coming and going. But somehow never quite seeming to pierce their zone of silence. Unusual that. Normally two such attractive men would be swarmed with admirers. But not tonight. Tonight something in their posture, or in their attitude served as enough of a warning. Only the very foolish or drunk would dare approach.
"That wasn't how it happened."
"You said that already. Care to elaborate?"
"The villa by the ocean."
"Which part?"
"I told her she wasn't attractive, that even half naked, she did nothing for me."
"And. . . ?"
"The truth. I wanted her so badly it hurt. But that would have destroyed the whole point."
"You wanted her to remain a child."
"I created her. I taught her everything. I shaped her in every way. A perfect picture of innocence."
"Stupidity."
"You and I both know she was never as dumb as she seemed."
"But loyal."
"As loyal as I." Wry (or was it bitter) twist of the lips, "In my own special way." A pause. "I wanted her to remain that way for ever. She made me laugh as nothing else could. She was sunshine. "
"She was the childhood you never had."
"And just as ephemeral."
"While we learned interrogation techniques."
"The myriad uses for pain."
"She made you smile."
"Perfect. . . Until He came along."
"You have really got to stop carrying grudges like that."
"Eh. He was as much a victim as I. I still hate his self-righteously smarmy guts though."
"You're whining."
"He made her change. He ruined the perfection. . . The look in her eyes when she talked about him, when she said his name. . . It should have been me."
"It's your own fault, you know." Pushing on, ignoring the warning signs of anger in his companion. "You made her that way. You told her she lacked feminine charm, that no man would ever find her attractive. You told her that no self-respecting jjang even thought of sex, much less had relationships. And you, you were her knight in shining armor. Even if she had been capable of imagining you as her lover, she would have suppressed it. For you. To be what you wanted her to be. She could never have chosen you. Not like that."
For a second it looked as though the other man might explode. Like ticking of a time bomb, as the seconds passed. The cigarette burned slowly down. Smoke wisped from flared nostrils, as wide eyes grew stony and hard. One heart beat and then another, mental bands of control all that kept the internal fires from bursting forth. Of course, Jeong Hyeop was correct. What else could infuriate him so?
"Everyone else thought for years that we were a couple."
"Everyone else, is not Ha Ji."
"She was my toy. Mine to corrupt. Mine to break!"
"She wasn't your toy."
"As much mine as I was hers."
"Not that, either."
"I could have taught her everything."
"You chose not to."
"I wanted the impossible."
"And then it was too late."
"She would have been better off dead. Forever perfect. Forever mine." Savagely, the twisted gleam in the steely eyes emphasizing the truth of his words. He'd thrown her off the roof once. He should have done the job right.
"You couldn't have lived with yourself then."
"I wouldn't have wanted to."
A conversation killer that, even among two old friends. Two comrades-in-arms. Closer than brothers. The memories still rubbed them raw after all this time.
At last, a ventured question. "Why so philosophical tonight? It's been over a year since that night. What's done is done. The past is dead and gone. Childhood days are over. We're in college now. Isn't it time your role became your reality? Why can't you forget for real?"
A raised eyebrow. The deliberate motion of graceful fingers as he stubs out his cigarette. Lights a fresh one. Stares off into the ceiling. Lazy half-smile twitching up the edges of his thin lips.
"It's fun."
A sigh. He's being a stubborn child again. College isn't really all that different from high school after all.
"Come on, let's go home."
"Not yet."
"Why not? Haven't you smoked enough yet to mask the taste of your drink? Come on, drink it down so we can leave."
Ignored. Deliberately. Again. Look deeper, beneath the surface. He's off in his own little world. Small wonder that. He never liked this one very much. There only ever was one thing keeping him here. Well two, if you counted the punishment his family doled out when he tried to escape. Though look how well that turned out. Functional member of the family, hah, that's one thing he'll never be. And the other. . Everyone knows how well that little divertissement worked. If you can call years of deceit a 'little' diversion. The game was hardly little. In the end, it might have been everything . .
"We're waiting." At last, an answer. Drawled out as if it didn't matter.
"For what?" In genuine puzzlement.
In answer, a tilt of the head, as if trying to remember. A final puff of this last cigarette. A graceful sweep of the arm. The motion taking in the crowded bar, encompassing the clusters of activity around them, scenes that he had been seeming to ignore all evening. Perhaps the gesture was an abstract reference, or perhaps it delineated something very specific and concrete. Han Seo wasn't saying. Letting Jeong Hyeop draw his own conclusions from what he, himself, could see. The word, when spoken at last, displayed a heavy sort of finality, the sort you build tombs with, that kind of heavy.
"That."
ToBeContinued.
