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“Is it okay that I’m here?” Dong-sik asked as In-woo ushered him into the Winners Club.
“You’ll get used to it soon,” In-woo said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Because you’ll be coming here often with me.”
The assurance didn’t assuage Dong-sik’s confusion. While he still didn’t remember anything about his life before a few days ago, he was certain he’d never been anywhere like this before. To his mind, the club looked more like a set from The Great Gatsby (2013) than anywhere that existed in real life. The gold décor, lighting that seemed designed to flatter, a lounge singer crooning in English, and In-woo waiting for him in what looked like the after-ten-PM sexy version of his work attire - gosh, put it all together and how the upper class lived could impress even a psychopathic serial killer like Dong-sik.
Dong-sik at least managed to keep the diary on him for comfort as In-woo led him to a table occupied by a few other chaebol types. A few minutes of conversation led Dong-sik to believe they were a lot less nice than his director, especially the jerk in a grey suit called Joo Young-min.
“What’s the occasion?” Young-min asked In-woo, a smirk on his face. “You brought someone from your company, your subordinate at that.”
Something about Young-min’s tone gave Dong-sik the feeling tonight could end with him being hunted for sport, but In-woo came to his defense. “He’s my subordinate, not yours,” he replied. Dong-sik’s eyes widened at the hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Be respectful,” In-woo continued. “He is way more important to me than you.”
“Yeah,” Young-min said. “Fine. He must be your lover or something.”
The other jerks at the table laughed, In-woo’s expression darkened, and Dong-sik focused on the cheese plate. Who knew there were so many different types of cheese in the world? There had to be at least six on this table alone, and Dong-sik knew what maybe two of them were called. Had his cheese knowledge gotten knocked out by that police car too?
But even the mysteries of coagulated milk couldn’t distract Dong-sik when the conversation turned to Seo Ji-hoon. Rumors were going around about his drug habit, and that he’d been tortured by a psycho and nearly killed.
“That really is absurd,” In-woo responded coolly. “Isn’t that right, Dong-sik-ssi?”
That only activated stress-coughs in Dong-sik, and he couldn’t answer right away. “Yes? Oh, yes.”
In-woo remained unfazed and put an arm around Dong-sik’s shoulder. In-woo’s hand on the center of his back did help Dong-sik’s cough, but probably wouldn’t do much for those impending lover rumors.
In-woo smelled really nice, Dong-sik suddenly noticed. That had to be cologne, right? What did rich guy cologne smell like? Sandalwood? He thought he vaguely recalled reading the word on some fancy label.
“Enjoy this comfortably,” In-woo said softly. “These people are only glamorous on the outside. They’re not that great.”
Dong-sik nodded uncomfortably and managed to escape to the bar. “Can you just give me anything strong?” he asked. This was really the worst time for him to be thrown into yet another baffling new environment, one made even more confusing by the inexplicable attention of his good-looking, good-smelling boss.
Dong-sik downed the shot the bartender passed to him without asking what was in it. Yeah, wow, that was strong. But it still wasn’t strong enough to distract Dong-sik from his turbulent internal monologue, and he wracked his brain trying to figure out what his past self had been thinking when he’d killed a homeless man the same night he intended to kill himself.
What eventually distracted him was Joo Young-min being a jerk again, drawing the attention of half the club by pouring a drink over a waiter’s head. That drew Dong-sik away from the bar and into action. He showed a hint of his true self to Young-min, just enough to strike terror, with a helpful assist from American Psycho (2000) in his mental VCR.
Dong-sik walked away from the scene feeling powerful - but only for a moment, before returning to his earlier angst. A pathetic bastard who only growls at the weak, he thought. Not worth dealing with. I’m bored. Am I already sick of this? Is that why I couldn’t kill Seo Ji-hoon?
Dong-sik found an empty section of the club where he could sit and sulk, now a little drunk and a lot more morose. A new question defined his existence: What was life for a psychopathic serial killer when he no longer felt the thrill of the hunt? In-woo found Dong-sik before he could find the answer.
“Before, that guy, he’s an executive at a company larger than ours,” In-woo said.
“I’m sorry,” Dong-sik said. He wasn’t really apologetic but he got up to bow anyway, only to be hit so hard by the effects of that mystery shot that he stumbled and sat back in his chair.
In-woo sat across from him, and now Dong-sik noticed that he came bearing more liquor. “There’s no need to be sorry,” he said. “I know that feeling. Anger flared up because someone who’s worthless acted up without fear, not realizing who the real predator is.”
In surprise, Dong-sik looked up and met In-woos’ gaze.
“How do I know?” In-woo continued, pouring them both drinks. “Because I felt the same.”
But Dong-sik knew there was no way In-woo could truly feel the same. In a way, he was a predator. He was a prince of the capitalist jungle, with his eyes set on becoming the king. He believed he had skillfully maneuvered Dong-sik against Ji-hoon like a pawn in a game of corporate chess, and he had - but he didn’t know that Dong-sik wasn’t even in the game. Now poor, clueless In-woo was unknowingly trying to befriend his brother’s would-be killer.
If In-woo was an alpha male, leading the wolf pack that was the Daehan Securities asset management team, Dong-sik was a lone wolf, fending for himself outside the bounds of regular wolf society. No, if Dong-sik was a wolf, In-woo was the farmer in the boat problem he’d presented to Ji-hoon, ferrying Dong-sik across the river without knowing he was, in fact, isolating himself with the most dangerous predator around.
With no knowledge of Dong-sik’s inner turmoil, In-woo had more to say. “Now I’m certain you and I are cut from the same cloth. Perhaps we could have some fun together.” Oh, another twist of the knife in Dong-sik’s lonely, murderous heart. It was tragic, really. If only Dong-sik was a little less cool and badass, maybe he and In-woo could be friends. Maybe in another life.
In-woo let out a short laugh at Dong-sik’s expression, so maybe some of his pain was showing on his face. “You may not feel that way quite yet because you don’t know too much about me. The truth is, I have a secret hobby.”
Oh.
Oh.
Now Dong-sik understood what was really going on. This explained everything.
“Right,” he said, nodding. “That ‘lover’ thing.”
A pause from In-woo. Dong-sik took a sip from the drink in front of him and barely stopped himself from coughing again. Was this the same thing that had been in that shot? Did anybody manage to walk straight on their way out of this club?
“What did you say?” In-woo asked.
“You know, what that jerk said at the table,” Dong-sik said. “He must be your lover or something. Your secret hobby. I get it.”
This was the puzzle piece that made clear the full picture of In-woo’s behavior. Why he kept hanging out with Dong-sik after he was done using him against Ji-hoon. The way he’d looked at Dong-sik after he’d grabbed his hand in the elevator. How nicely he’d treated him in front of the department after Dong-sik had treated him so disrespectfully. Why he’d taken Dong-sik to such a fancy club. Why he looked so damn handsome with the first two buttons of his shirt undone. The sandalwood thing.
It didn’t make so much sense why In-woo would chose Dong-sik, of all people, to pursue romantically when he could have anyone, but Dong-sik kind of got it. He’d shown he could be discrete during the Ji-hoon scheme, and while he was far from Daehan’s most eligible bachelor (that would be In-woo himself), it’s not like he didn’t have anything going for him, physically. Dong-sik had seen it the first time he’d looked in the mirror after waking up in the hospital: he was a cutie!
“My secret hobby,” In-woo repeated. He chuckled to himself. “Well, yes, that too. I guess we have more in common than I thought. What were the odds?”
Now there was something deeply sad about the sight of In-woo’s perfectly proportioned face, smiling slightly as he sipped his drink. In-woo must sense something about Dong-sik that made him think they were compatible, but how could he know the man he thought was a fellow gay shark of the finance world (not that Dong-sik was exactly sure what his sexuality was; there was nothing about it in the diary) was something so much darker and more dangerous? In-woo thought he’d found the start of something special, a rare predator-predator romance, when in fact, compared to Dong-sik, he was merely prey.
Dong-sik gulped down more of his liquor, feeling lonelier and more dejected than ever.
“In that case, Dong-sik-ssi,” In-woo said, “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private to discuss our… mutual interests? Assuming you’re interested, of course.”
It took Dong-sik a moment to respond. His amnesia and liquor-addled mind did not help him here. Neither did his internal video library. Had he ever watched a romance in his life? he wondered, mentally searching through blood-splattered VHS covers. What about an erotic thriller?
“Dong-sik-ssi?” Shit. He’d been silent for too long. Dong-sik grabbed the nearest tape at hand.
Face/Off (1997.)
The film began to play, starting at the most relevant scene. Nicolas Cage’s Castor Troy was up close with a beautiful flight attendant.
“If I were to let you suck my tongue,” Yook Dong-sik/Nic Cage/Castor Troy said, “Would you be grateful?
Drunk, sad, and just aware enough to be a little bit embarrassed, Dong-sik stood and walked out of the club, leaving In-woo sitting shocked at the table.
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After a night spent tossing and turning and eventually realizing his murderous desires seemed to have gone into hibernation, Dong-sik did his best to look positive and not even slightly hungover as he answered his coworkers’ questions about the Winners Club. He actually managed to be pretty productive, and after a tasty ramyeon lunch, he was feeling good, if still a little hazy about the details of the previous night.
Then the phone at his desk rang.
“Director Seo would like to see you in his office,” Ms. Jo said on the other line.
“Oh - okay,” Dong-sik said, the fog in his memory now looking much more ominous. “Did he happen to mention why?”
“He just said you would know and to come up as soon as possible,” she said, and hung up.
His feet heavy, Dong-sik trudged to the elevator and rode up to the floor with In-woo’s office - second from the top. He took a deep breath in front of the double doors and pushed them open.
In-woo stood as soon as Dong-sik entered the room, as if he’d been waiting. “Dong-sik-ssi,” he said.
“Good afternoon, director,” Dong-sik replied nervously. In-woo was walking towards him now, and he was paralyzed. “How’s your day -”
Before he could finish the sentence, In-woo kissed him, pushing him back against the door. Dong-sik’s eyes widened in surprise, his body stiffening for a moment, but then In-woo licked at his bottom lip and with an involuntary moan, he gave in.
In-woo’s lips were soft and he smelled even better up close and Dong-sik still hadn’t given much thought to his sexuality, but now he was absolutely sure that he wasn’t straight. Dong-sik’s arms were around In-woo’s neck, and as their tongues met in each other’s mouths, he brought his hands up to the taller man's hair. Despite the products keeping it styled and in place, it was still soft; this must be another secret of the upper class.
In-woo pushed a thigh between Dong-sik’s legs, shifting his position against the door, and Dong-sik, mind more occupied with kissing than standing, lost his balance. As he stumbled, he stabilized himself by grasping harder onto the closest thing in reach, In-woo’s hair. For a split second, he worried that this would upset his boss and ruin everything, but instead, In-woo moaned in response and - oh, now he was sucking on Dong-sik’s tongue.
The foggy memories of last night suddenly became a lot clearer. First of all, okay, so that’s how he got here. Second, why couldn’t this happen with the rest of his memories? Life was unfair, but at least it had given Dong-sik this makeout session he wanted to last forever. He sent a quick prayer of thanks to Nic Cage and John Woo.
The kissing couldn’t actually last forever. In-woo eventually broke it off and stepped back from Dong-sik, his hair disheveled, eyes alight, and smile satisfied. “Good to touch base with you, Dong-sik-ssi,” he said, smoothing his suit jacket. “I’ll follow up later.”
Dong-sik blinked a few times. “Uh, yes! Right! Great base-touching. Great, great base-touching. See you around, director!”
When he was safely in the elevator, Dong-sik calmed his racing heart and took stock of the situation. So he and In-woo weren’t the same exact type of predator. Maybe they could be compatible types, like one of those videos zoos post online of lions and tigers playing soccer and stuff.
Best of all, Dong-sik realized as he returned to his desk, maybe the thrill of the seduction could replace his lost desire for the thrill of the kill.