Lies Part 2, from Moonbyul's perspective. Slight time lapse from previous part.

Where the hell is Hwasa? The thought repeats in her head as she paces around the barred cell.

Step by step. The cell is unbelievably stuffy. She's pretty sure there are supposed to be human rights rules that guarantee certain living space accommodations. Even chickens are promised a certain minimum square feet. This cage-like room is something that she can cover from one end to the other with 5 mere strides.

More like 4, if she wants to successfully avoid the hands that shoot out from the cell next to her.

“You !”

4 strides it was. Thankfully there isn’t another cell on the other side, or she'd be down to 3 strides.

“Hey. You better ing listen to me when I'm talking to you!”

The guy in her neighboring cell has quite a loud mouth. That, coupled with his unbelievably short temper, has made it impossible for her to even consider taking a brief nap. So now, she's just waiting, praying for Hwasa to hurry her sweet little up and bail her out.

“Oi! Did you--”

“Excuse me sir. You should calm down a bit. I hear that stress can make injuries worse. And considering what your face looks like right now,” she motions to his face with fake sympathy, “you probably don't want to make it worse. But then again, you weren't really much to look at in the first place, were you?”

This time, she doesn’t even flinch as his arms stretch to their fullest through the bars separating them. She's positioned just out of his reach. She's fully aware it infuriates him even more.

With a clearly exaggerated sigh, (she hopes his dull brain can realize she's being sarcastic), she continues, “You wouldn't want the guards to come back, would you?”

“They'll come beat your up too.”

“Because you're incapable of doing it yourself?” She playfully slaps at his straining fingers, enjoying the boiling rage clear on his face. “It would be tragic if you got beat up by me again. Your bros, well, I wonder how you're going to explain away getting beaten up by a girl.”

“You--”

“Carlson! Get your hands back in your cell! And Moonbyul, stop provoking him!”

Moonbyul hides the childish tongue she's sticking out at him before turning towards the cop heading their way. It's a friendly face. Solar.

The usual, over the top bubbliness is tainted with annoyance at the moment. The glare Solar directs at Carlson is considerably unfriendly. When it turns towards her, it does soften, but she can still see disappointment bubbling underneath.

“Hello officer. What are you doing down in these dreary holding cells?” she asks in a smooth tone, ignoring the growling of the man next to her.

“Doesn't seem to suit you, either, does it? Being behind bars?” Solar retorts.

Well ouch. Miss Cop is definitely a bit edgy today. She lets her lips tremble as she speaks and forces her eyes to get just a bit moist. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Shut it, Moonbyul.” Solar tries to keep her tone hard, but there's a wavering in her words.

It's as expected. Solar is too soft, too kind. And as much as that quality is useful for her operations, she can't help but feel pity for the cop.

“Ok. So what are you here for? If not to enjoy the lovely company of me. And Mr Charming Carlson here.” She tilts her head towards him and the slight breeze from his flailing hands makes her hair sway. So close yet so far. That's how she plays all the games. How she plays everyone.

“Someone's here to bail you out.”

“Excellent. Let's go.” She taps the lock on the metal door impatiently, watching Solar fiddle with the keys. When it finally clicks open and she steps out, she blows Carlson a parting kiss. “Afraid I can't spend any more time with you, sweetie. You should go out to the gym more. Or I think you'll be disappointing in more ways than one, eh?”

“Stop it Moonbyul,” reprimands Solar, but there's a twinkling in her eyes as Moonbyul skips jauntily past Carlson's cage.

“Yes ma'am. After you.” She bows with a grin and gestures forward.

The corridor back up to the main station is a narrow path. She loves how unsettled all the guarding officers are when she flashes them her trademark smile. Simpletons, she considers them.

Nothing like that girl Solar brought last time. Wheein? That girl, now that girl, she had something special.

Something special, but dangerous. Something people she knew would kill to have. Or kill to avoid.

“Moonbyul!” Hwasa's voice carries over the low din of the busy police station.

“Ah~knew you'd come bail me out.”

“Never thought I would be the one to have to bail you out.” Hwasa mutters as she signs the papers handed to her. “Feels strange.”

“Usually the other way around, right?”

She dodges the punch she knows is coming and rests her chin on Hwasa's shoulder after she dodges, leaning onto the disgruntled girl's back. The signature Hwasa’s scrawling onto the form is rather dodgy and illegible. Just the way they practiced. The corners of lift in satisfaction and she peels herself off Hwasa to turn towards Solar.

“Well, you’re free to go, Moonbyul.” Solar has a tired smile on her face as she unlocks the cuffs. “I’d rather not see you here again for a simple bar brawl.”

“Me too. Me too,” agrees Moonbyul, rubbing her red wrists with a frown. Lowering her head, she whispers, “What’s wrong, Solar? Everyone in here is a bit tense, including you. Tough case?”

Solar her lips as she darts her gaze around the compound. “You know I’m not supposed to be talking about this.”

“But you want to.”

“I...nevermind. You’ve helped already. You should just leave with Hwasa.”

“The smuggling ring then. What about it?”

“Keep it down!” hisses Solar. “I thought you were the one who wanted to stay out of it, especially since it’s been blown to such proportions. Pretty sure any moment now the government’s going to come take over. We’re literally way over our heads right now.”

Solar’s words trigger a spark of curiosity within her, because she’s mentioning something even she has no idea about. Making sure each individual muscle on her face is relaxed naturally, she casually asks, “Blown up? Didn’t you manage to find the kids? I heard about the bust.”

“The kids weren’t the only thing we found. And not the only thing that was being smuggled.” Solar eyes her accusingly. “Did you know?”

“Smuggling?” interrupts Hwasa, confusion painted across her face. She comes to join in the conversation after finishing the paperwork. “Moonbyul wouldn’t do something like that.”

“See. I’m hurt by the thought, Solar. Ouch.”

“Guns. Drugs. Moonbyul, this is big. In a really, really bad way.”

That escalated quickly.

Child trafficking, first of all, was against her morals. She had been rather pleased when word on the streets mentioned the demise of the group she leaked to Solar.

But things like guns and drugs are another class altogether. Stuff that she, unfortunately, knows more about. Activity that she, reluctantly, has a closer connection to.

She really hopes whoever is behind this isn't who she thinks it is.

All of a sudden, a familiar voice questions, “Hwasa? Is that you?”

The trio turns to see Wheein approaching. Like Solar, the girl has deep eyebags too dark to cover with a thin layer of makeup. There's exhaustion evident in her voice and her patience seems to be at its breaking point. But still, Wheein smiles at Solar amicably until Moonbyul enters her field of vision.

Moonbyul's a bit annoyed to see the smile fly off into space. It looks as though it won't be coming back either, with how deeply suspicion sets itself on Wheein's thinned lips.

“Hello Wheein!” She decides to be the one to break the chillingly awkward atmosphere. “You don't look...too happy.” To see me. She doesn't let Wheein hear that second part.

Hwasa turns back towards Wheein after Moonbyul signals her an ok with an almost imperceptible nod. “I haven't seen you in almost forever, Wheein! I heard about you making it big. I thought you went into research. But you're a cop?”

“I'm-” Wheein flashes the impassive Moonbyul a frown, “kind of. You never really stayed in contact after you dropped out in middle school.”

“I kind of lost contact with most people.”

“How do you know Moonbyul then?”

“She's a close friend.” Moonbyul grinds a heel into the top of Hwasa's shoe as she answers for her. Those probing eyes of Wheein that are glued to Hwasa are frightening. Hwasa may be good, but not as good as her. And she would honestly rather Wheein talk to her, not Hwasa. “Right?”

Solar decides to in with a totally unnecessary addition. “Didn't she say she was your--”

“It’s late,” Moonbyul loudly interrupts. “We ought to go.” She beckons towards Hwasa. “I'm sure the cops are busy dealing with the case.”

She only takes a few steps more towards the door before an idea takes shape in her head.

“Wheein,” she says as she whirls around.

“What is it?”

“It's late. You look absolutely dead on your feet. Let me take you home?”

Moonbyul tries to ignore Hwasa's insistent nudging as she stares resolutely at Wheein. Hoping the girl, who's eyeing her warily, will agree.

“There's still a lot to do here at the station. More people to interview--”

“You're not a cop. And I'm sure you'd be better help to them well rested. Don't you think she deserves some rest, Solar?”

Solar falters under the accusing gaze she directs her way. “Y-Yes.”

“See, Wheein? And if you're worried about trusting me or whatever, have Solar as your contact. Text her when you're home, so she knows I didn't kidnap you or anything.”

“But--” Wheein tries to argue again.

“I'd love to talk to you again. And I'm sure, you're curious about a few things about me too, right?”

She can see her bait working, for the reluctance in Wheein's eyes is gradually getting replaced with determination. She knows the type. Intellectuals always lust after a problem they can't solve, because they're sure every anomaly must fall within their expectations.

She herself is similar. She's certain there must be something else beneath Wheein's exterior. Nobody is perfect. And often, the harder the exterior facade, the greater the cracks beneath.

People like them have much to hide. Unlike Solar, the happy, bumbling cop who wears her heart on her sleeve. Unlike Hwasa, the sweet girl she treats as a sister, but who finds the greatest solace for her emotional instability with substance and blind love.

“So, Wheein?” She asks, even though she already sees an expected 'yes’ teetering on the tip of the girl's tongue.

“Moonbyul.”

She turns with a sigh, unable to ignore Hwasa, who is now pulling at her sleeve.

“What is it.”

“I rode the motorbike here. How will Wheein fit with 3 of us?”

Moonbyul nearly facepalms at the question. She tries to brush away the embarrassment tinting her cheeks and avoids Solar's and Wheein's gazes while she thinks.

Digging into her purse that was returned after her release, she pulls out a few crisp bills and slips it into Hwasa's hand.

“Take a cab.”

“What?” Hwasa looks stupefied and indignant.

“I'll meet you back home later, so take a cab. And give me the keys.” She shushes Hwasa’s incoming flux of complaints. She breathes a heavy sigh of relief after the pouting, grumbling girl drags her feet out the door.

“So, Wheein?” She dangles her keys with a wink.

“Solar, I’ll call you when I get back.” Wheein shrugs the straps of her bag onto her shoulder as she walks next to Moonbyul.

“You should get some rest too, Solar.” Moonbyul’s smile softens as she nods towards the cop, and then she starts walking out of the station, Wheein on her heels.

-----

She lets the engine idle to a halt near the riverbank, as per Wheein’s request. “I don’t want you to know exactly where I live. So we can stop at the river and I’ll be able to get myself home easy enough.’ It’s a reasonable precaution, so she is happy to comply. After all, Wheein makes no sign to immediately run away and instead waits for her to park the bike by a tree.

“Let’s take a stroll by the shore?” she offers after pocketing her keys.

She takes Wheein’s silence as agreement and they begin to walk, letting the chilly evening breeze and rippling waves fill the quiet between them. It’s a weekday, and the riverfront is sparsely populated despite the beautiful scenery.

Wheein is the first to break the spell. “What were you in for?”

“A bar fight.”

“Is that also a lie?” mutters Wheein, disbelief echoing behind her words.

“Not this one. Cross my heart and swear to die.” She skips in front of Wheein, solemn, with her hand over her chest as she paces backward in step with Wheein.

Wheein scoffs, “As if that means anything.”

“Honest.”

“So what were you being honest about last time?” Wheein’s curious, for sure. Moonbyul can see it in her eyes. It’s a shame Wheein isn’t quite as good as spitting out lies as she is good at spotting them.

“Anything specific you want to focus on?” she teases. “Like maybe...what I said at the end--”

She yelps at Wheein’s punch. Now, that was something she doesn’t see coming. Who knew Wheein would be so...feisty.

She kind of likes it.

She makes sure Wheein sees the bite of her lip, enjoying the flinch and blush she gets in response. If there’s anything years of practiced socializing and flirting has taught her, it’s that Wheein is most definitely gay. And responding well to her advances.

“Are you always this much of a flirt?”

“What? N-No.” Moonbyul sputters.She’s never been thrown off by such a question, despite the many times she’s been faced with it. She steps to the side to hide her face, falling back next to the quietly laughing girl. Wheein has much more of an impact on her than she initially realized, and the smirk on the girl’s face makes her mutter, “Maybe. A bit.”

“Hmm. I see.” Wheein lets silence take over once again. After a while, she pipes up, a little less hesitantly than before. “What’s your connection with Hwasa?”

“What’s your connection with Hwasa?”

“A question with a question. You’re rather selfish.” Wheein ducks her head down as she thinks. “But since I won’t be sure what you’re saying is true or not, I’ll go first. Maybe that’ll convince you to say something honest.” She clasps her hands in front of her as she meanders forward, kicking sand up with each step. “I went to the same middle school as Hwasa. We got along well. But we fell out of touch after she dropped out. She was in with a bad crowd then.”

“She was. She was an idiot back then.”

“You knew her then too?”

“I met her a bit after she dropped out. Helped her clean herself up. She lives with me now. She’s probably the closest thing I have to family.” Pride and fondness takes over her features. Hwasa is one of the better things that’s ever come out of associating with her. She will do anything to protect the younger girl. She always has.

“I see.”

“That’s dull talk though. Talk about something else. Or else I'll feel like dragging you out here to entertain me was pointless.” She lets Wheein slap her this time, pain dulled by Wheein’s blinding smile.

“Let's sit on the grass then! Easier to talk that way.”

“Wise words of the professor. Alrighty.” She plops down and motions for Wheein to sit on her lap. “No? Well it was worth a try.”

“What should we talk about?”

She taps her chin, pretending to think. “Why’d you agree to talk this time? Not like I bargained anything for your time today.”

“It’s round two. I want to take another shot at you.”

“Oooh. I like that. But let me go first?”

“First?” asks Wheein.

“Just want to clarify a few things. And if I hear first, I might just be more inclined to play along with you later.”

Wheein sighs. “What do you want to know?”

“I looked you up, professor. You’ve quite a few accolades.” She tilts her head and meets Wheein’s gaze straight on for the next statement. “You’ve also got a clean sheet. Clear rep. No one can be that perfect.” Leaning forward to unsettle the girl, she asks in all seriousness, “Where’s the dirty secret?”

“H-How dare you!”

Wheein’s shout rings in her ears as she sits back. Even though she may not have the extensive education the other girl has had, her street experience tells her all she needs to know. Wheein is clean.

Wheein’s next words jar her thoughts. “So what about you then, hm? Miss Master Criminal.” The last words are dripping with scorn.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong to accuse--”

“You’re hiding a lot more than I ever will. You think you’re smooth? Let me give you a try. Nuh uh.” Her glare makes Moonbyul retract any words she had planned. “You. Moonbyul. You’re great at lying. But what are you trying to cover up, really?”

“The truth--”

“No. You’re all smooth and greasy on the exterior. But that’s also part of your lie. You’re disgusted at who you are, so you smooth over your hate with flirty words and noncommitment. You’re afraid of anything more than the superficial manner you treat anyone you meet. Isn’t it?” Wheein points a finger at her, but Moonbyul’s face remains unresponsive.

“No--”

“One more thing. I’ve told you you’re impossibly good at lying. But there’s two sides to that.” The anger in Wheein’s tone fades. “What you’re good at is making everything seem like the truth. You have control over the typical emotions that give people away when they lie.”

She’s drawn in, mesmerized, by the dilated brown pools of the girl’s eyes. “What’s the other side?”

“When you slip up, you slip up. You can fake truths, but you can’t fake lies.” Wheein answers with complete confidence.

“That’s a lie.”

“No, that’s a lie.”

Moonbyul finds her heart beating erratically and way, way out of her control. What is this that Jung Wheein makes her feel? Lost, confused, exposed.

However, there’s an exhilaration coursing through her veins. It could just be adrenaline, urging her to run away from the blistering truth.

Maybe it is something else. Wheein is the first to truly understand her. She can’t deny it’s an addicting feeling, this emotional vulnerability that Wheein sparks within her.

“You remember I said I liked you, Wheein?” she murmurs. “How about that? Is that a lie? Am I lying to you? Am I lying to myself?”

Something compels her to approach the smug girl, face forward. She lets herself loose, victim to the feelings she’s always repressed. Wanting to see how the girl in front of her will react. Even through her clouded, hazy mind, she wonders why Wheein isn’t pulling back.

Not even when her lips press against Wheein’s and the girl lets out a little gasp. Not even when she takes advantage of the parted lips to dart her tongue inside and embrace the wet warmth she’s long forgotten. Not even when one of her hands snakes up and threads through Wheein’s hair to bring her head deeper into the kiss.

As she pulls away, her eyes stare into Wheein's. It's one of the few times in her life where the thousands of thoughts constantly running through her mind grind to a complete halt. She forgets to try and read Wheein, but she's pretty sure Wheein's not in the stablest of states to read her either.

But one truth sticks in her head. She doesn't have complete control over herself. That truth is dangerous in her business. If that's dangerous, so is Wheein, for the girl just seems to rip apart her barriers.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and the light of the screen can be seen through the fabric. She takes it out reluctantly, and gives the text preview a cursory glance.

“Girlfriend again?” laughs Wheein airily. “She has quite the timing, doesn’t she?” Her voice shakes in the last few syllables, but Moonbyul is too distracted by the text to notice.

“This is.... I’m sorry.” She looks up from the screen. “I have to go.”

“I-It is getting late. Solar is probably waiting for my message too.” Wheein quickly gets to her feet and brushes off the grass from her pants. She holds out a hand, and Moonbyul takes it, quite surprised at the gesture.

“Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Sorry that I’m always the one to bail,” apologizes Moonbyul. The phone that she has slipped back into the pocket vibrates again and she grimaces in annoyance.

“Maybe we can talk another time?”

Moonbyul pauses in her tracks. Wheein’s proposal is unexpected. It’s an attractive offer, and she very much wishes she can immediately accept it with a smile and a ‘yes’.

But nothing is ever so easy. She’s scared. Scared of Wheein’s perception, which is far more keen than she had originally anticipated. Scared for Wheein’s innocence, which is more pure than she had expected. Scared by emotions from both her and Wheein that will only endanger them all.

“Be careful about the case, Wheein. Or better yet, don't involve yourself at all.” A lump travels down , but she's much too distraught to hide it. “Goodbye.”

She shrugs off Wheein's puzzled mumblings and stalks off back to her bike with resolution. She makes sure she doesn't look back.

Good people like Wheein don't deserve s like her.

-----

She raps twice on the metal door, grinding her teeth as she waits for a response.

“Who?” a gruff voice growls, and a pair of squinty eyes peer out from the hole.

“It’s me. Moonbyul.”

The metal screen slams shut and she hears the clanging of a few locks before the door swings open. “Come in. Boss is downstairs.”

She nods and takes the steps one at a time. She’s in no rush, and the blue, flickering light accompanied by an ominous jazz tune from below are far from welcoming. This is merely one of the many safehouses the boss has. It’s also one of the dingiest, stuck deep in the dredges of the city.

Moonbyul knows what waits in the room won’t be pleasant. But the text she received specifies this location, so she has no choice. With trepidation, she pushes open the door that is left ajar.

“Moonbyul! Finally here! Been waiting for a while.” The owner of the voice her head to side and grins, but her face and the atmosphere is as cold as death. “Come, come, sit down. Join the game.”

Moonbyul doesn’t move closer to the poker table just yet. She lets her gaze travel around the room lazily and notices guards standing stiffly at the corners. At the center of it all is the wooden table. Three of the players have gags, muffling sobs that are evident from their red, tearing eyes. Their hands are cuffed, shaking, as they hold their cards in front of them, but they show no sign of refusing to play.

“Krystal. The table’s full.”

Krystal chuckles. “Not a problem. Jake here seems to be done soon.”

She glances towards the guy Krystal names, and notices his dreadfully low pile of chips. It will only last one round, for sure.

“So what do you say, Jake?” mocks Krystal.

Tears run down his face as he pushes forward his last stack of chips.

4 pairs of cards flip over.

“Ooh. Tsk. Tsk. Looks like you’re out, Jake. Guards, take him.” At her words, one of the grunts drags Jake from his chair, ignoring the choked screams. “There’s your spot, Moonbyul.”

She sits. She can’t afford not to. “Are you going to gag and cuff me too?”

Krystal looks genuinely surprised. “You? Moonbyul, enough jokes. We’re friends. And you’re not one of these people here, who owe me deep, deep debts. It’s quite foolish, how some people try to avoid paying back loans, isn’t it?”

“We’re business partners. Not friends.”

“We were something more once.”

“Let’s just play.” Moonbyul accepts the pile of chips from Krystal. She knows what she has to do here from the implicit demand of Krystal’s tapping fingers. There’s only one reason she’s ever asked to play poker.

Before they begin, though, she closes her eyes to hide the grief of knowing that she will be responsible for two more deaths tonight.

“So I heard you got locked up for a bit.” Krystal raises an eyebrow.

“It was for a petty fight. I’m sure your men told you that, though.”

“I did hear. But it was still surprising, nonetheless.”

“You know me. I wouldn’t get caught.” She glances towards one of the other debtors and he shivers. “Raise to 500.”

“It would be terrible if one of my greatest partners got caught. What would I do?” Krystal narrows her eyes. “What would Hwasa do?”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Of course. Just reminding you of your burdens, shall we say? And reminding you of your job.”

“I am doing my job. Haven’t your other partners thanked you for the jobs I mediated?” She flips over her cards, showing a pair of aces. One more gets dragged out of the room.

“The other job.”

She sighs, but constricts against her will. Wheein’s face crosses her mind as she formulates her answer in the steadiest voice she can muster. “I’m on the lookout. And I’m still connected with the cops. Heard a few things there, by the way, while I was on my way back. You wouldn’t know anything about the recent smuggling of guns and drugs, would you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Moonbyul pushes forward another stack of chips with hardened eyes. She already knows the truth. The best liar in the room, after all, isn’t Krystal. It’s her.

“Stop with the questioning.” Krystal’s voice invites no further response as she folds for the round. “Focus on the game. And the job. I admit, it would be terrifying having more people like you out there.”

4 cards turn over, and the last man’s gag slips as he struggles in the thug’s grip, letting his pleads leak and echo as his heels drag against the floor.

“I have Amber to help deal with the muscle. But you, you, are responsible for scouting the brains.” Krystal points at her with a stack of money she’s counting. “Anyone not with us is against us, Moonbyul. Got it?”

She looks down with distaste at the crisp green bills Krystal has tossed in front of her. Wheein. Wheein keeps running through her mind. She can’t let Krystal get Wheein. She knows what happens to those who oppose Krystal. She also knows what Krystal is willing to do to get what, or who, she wants. She can’t, no, she won’t let it happen to Wheein.

So she does what she does best. What she’s always done best. Lie.

Her hands closes over the money. "Got it."