The sound of smashing glass woke him from his slumber with a jump. It came from his home office down the hallway.
Jumin opened both eyes, fully awake. He looked around, and found himself alone in his bed, with only a foul smell in the air. He can guess what is the source of the noise. Sighing, he pulls on pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt to cover himself before walking towards the door and sneaking out carefully, as to not make too much noise and alert the invader.
It was dark, but the glistening city lights outside the window illuminated the pathetic scene before him. His date for the night was sitting on his chair, dressed on the rags she wore on the street and very drunk. Her eyes were steely grey, looking at him with the hate he had seen there last night. She no longer had a spark in her eyes, her skin was sallow, her hair limp and straggly.
She had an open bottle of his finest wine half empty before her and smashed glass was sprinkled on the floor around her feet. A reflection from a spotlight from the neighbouring building hit a piece of metal on her body. She was holding something in her lap, but he could not make out what it could be.
"Good morning, beautiful." The black-haired man sneered. "You seem to have made a mess."
"Do you know, Mr Han?" MC slurred quietly, her voice deep with worn out emotion and booze. "I used to think I loved you. I could never explain it, but back, before all this…"
She barked out a cruel laugh and waved her hands over her body in a suggestive manner. It was disgusting, and he could not help but to look away, which seemed to infuriate the woman even further.
"Look at me!" She shouts, wailing desperately, and he complied. "Before all this, when I was pretty and young and carefree, I was drawn to you. I would check the messenger all the time to know if you were online, I would always answer on the first ring whenever you called, I was ready to do whatever you wanted of me. I always wanted to run into your arms, but your ice-cold indifference to me kept me, thankfully, away."
Jumin feels frozen in his spot, his bare feet did not seem to be responding to his commands any longer. He was standing in his office, watching the once beautiful girl and, truth be told, despairing at her words. What was she hiding in her lap? It seemed important, but he couldn't make it out.
"After the whole mess with the Choi women and stuff… When things went bad, when I fell on my luck, I came to you. Twice!" MC exclaimed, slamming the fine crystal of her chalice on the desk. "I wanted to beg for your help, promise you anything to save me, but again, your cold and distant manner, your inability to even look me eye as you snapped a hello at me, assured me you would gain nothing from helping me and I walked away without a word. I would be just another of those women, after all, wouldn't I?
"Things got worse and I… The others couldn't help me, they couldn't, so I did what I had to do. When I first sold my body for cash, I imagined he was you. I imagined that you had come to save me, to take me away and protect me. When I cried my shame, after every cruel abuse of my body, I cried at how you could never want me now. Yet, still, I hoped, I still imagined, I still saw your face and not theirs. Every time, I saw your face. I had nothing else but this stupid, stupid dream." She paused to drink, straight out of the bottle now, her tears running into her mouth along with the purple wine.
"And then, last night, you came to me, and with my last spark of hope, with my last wish, I hoped that you had come to save me, but you hadn't. You abused me, like all the others, and for the first time, I opened my eyes while a man cruelly rutted against me, hoping to see love or compassion in your eyes, but they held the same, ice cold, indifferent look. I tried to kiss you, to hold you, but you held me down, held me away, and I knew then." The prostitute laughed eerily and raised the small silver pistol from her lap, pointing it calmly at him.
Her hand never wavers, pointing straight at him despite the drink. One slight movement of her fingers and he would be dead by his own vanity weapon, that he revealed the hiding spot to it himself all those years ago.
"MC, I..." He stuttered, grasping at words to say.
Jumin knows that he should not have done what he did, but he could not stand it anymore. After his father finally broke things off with Glam Choi and his libel suit proceeded well through the courts, he thought that he had to let MC go, if only because he felt that he owed her freedom after almost kidnapping her away from her apartment.
He did not think into what sort of situation he would be leaving her into. She had been out of a job for a couple of months before stumbling into their chatroom, and the month and a half she spent helping him out was certainly not put to good use in that regard. She had nowhere to live, of course, as she took Rika's apartment for that exact reason, but, after she left the penthouse, V refused to let her go back there.
The Han heir gave her some money. A rather generous amount, at that, for her services as fake girlfriend, but he is not that sheltered to not understand that Seoul is an expensive place to live and that would not last her six months, least of all until the next hiring season. Especially considering that she did not have a place to live and would, at best, have to spent it all on a lease agreement somewhere.
It was fine, though. For a while, everything was going well. MC seemed to find a place to live, a low-skilled job somewhere enough to feed her, and they continued to talk on the messenger. Then, V decided to disband the RFA out of the blue and disappeared into the world, never to contact any of them again.
Jumin lost touch with the rest of the members, everyone too busy with their own lives, their own troubles and businesses to indulge in casual friendship. He met with MC exactly twice on the following weeks, and he remembers exactly what he had said on both occasions. He felt so awkward that he must have come out as standoffish, even if it was not his intention. After that second encounter, he had never heard of her again. She did not call again, she did not send any texts, and he became bitter about it. Even if, in the depths of his heart, he felt truly guilty about it.
A few days later, Luciel Choi of all people sent him a sealed manila folder and a note.
It's about MC. I thought you'd want to know.
He had been angry that day, because she would not respond his texts and leave him on read, so he petulantly refused to open the envelope, stuffing it on a locked drawer in his desk at the company. There it lay for years, calling for him, quietly at first and then increasingly louder.
One night, when yet another arranged date set up by his father fell through, he could not stand it any longer. He missed MC, he missed her more than his pride would let him admit. He wanted to see her, he wanted to talk to her, and he would not wait another second.
Jumin unlocked the drawer, pulled it out of its handles and tore open the old manila folder. What he saw inside broke his heart all over again.
It was a disgustingly thorough investigation about MC's work in prostitution. The ad to her services, the spots where she picked up business, who the johns were, where she would take them and what she would do to them.
He was enraged. How dare she?! She became a common whore! It was a slap to his face, and he would not let that stand. If she wanted to be paid for her services, then he will pay for it and make it worth his while.
He had Driver Kim go to one of the spots mentioned on the dossier, and, sure enough, there she was, scantly clad, looking for clients. He chewed on the idea for a few nights, until finally, he jumped back on the car and went back there, coldly hiring her services for the night.
Jumin fucked her, he imprinted on her emaciated body all those years of frustration he had to go through, and now they are there. A man, a woman and a gun between them.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have known? He had broken her and ruined her again. At any time, he could have helped her, saved her, protected her, just like she had wanted. Just like he wanted to. Why had he not? What had he been thinking?
"Don't worry, Mr Han." The prostitute whispered. "This isn't for you."
MC slowly and so calmly turned the gun to her head, holding it against her temple, finger over the trigger. His breath is caught on his throat and he wants to scream for help. Where are his goddamned bodyguards?
"I knew then." She continued. "I knew then that you would never save me, that you would never care. That all I had was myself, and what good was I? Whatever force had called me to you, had never called you to me. Were you even going to pay me for tonight, Mr Han? Don't feel bad, I took my pay in drink."
Her eyes did not leave his for a second as she took another long pull from the bottle.
He could not move, he could not think, he could not get the words out of his mouth fast enough. All he could do was stand there and wait pathetically for the shot to ring out and end everything.
MC had wanted him, she cared for him, she thought she had loved him and all he gave her was ice cold stares and snapped greetings in the morning. She had been the most important person in his life in many years, she had been the one to untangle the messy knot of threads in his heart, and he could not manage to just speak.
When Jumin had first seen her here, in his home, in this exact room, she was so happy and carefree, he stayed away, treated her the way he treated everyone, maybe a little more coldly. In time, things progressed and he could only realize what was going on when he could not stand to share space with her and not be able to touch her any longer. He wanted to keep her under lock and key, under surveillance, just so he could breathe easily, but he knows that this is no way to live a life. She deserved her happiness and he is not so selfish to take that away from her. He would not interrupt her life a second time.
When her life had turned bad, he had wanted to go to her, offer her his heart, his everything, but he was too afraid, hoping she would come to him, and when she did, he scared her away. He watched ignorantly as her life fell apart piece by piece. He had to see her on the first time she let a man touch her for money to get his head out of his ass.
He could have stepped in, done something useful with the information, anything other than what he did, but he let his rage rise to his head.
She had a smile on her face. Of course, now he knew why that smile was there, that smile was for him. So, finally, when he could stay away no longer, when he reached the point where he had to have her or die, he had treated her so badly, refused her touch, her kiss, and fucked her like the filthy animal he had always known he was.
"MC." He spoke her name almost reverently. "MC, I'll save you, I'll protect you. MC, give me a chance to prove what a fool I have been."
Her sad eyes looked up at him and she smiled, not a genuine, beautiful MC smile, but a sad, broken, humourless smile.
"It's too late!" She spat at him. "Too late to even want to make believe you mean it."
Jumin was half way to her when the shot rang out, making him drop to his knees in the broken glass and pool of wine from her bottle. He pulled her warm, but lifeless body to him and sobbed. He should have cherished her last night, worshipped her, and part of him had meant to, but instead he had used her and abused her, just like everyone else had.
Now, he would never get a second chance. Now, he would have to bear the guilt for his inaction, and he does not know what to do to make it right again.
The second shot rang out as the bodyguards reached the door. Their knocking was left unanswered.