It's funny.  I can't have drunk much alcohol in the fruity cocktail Yuri gave me, and I was sure the aspirin had taken care of the vodka from earlier.  Yet, as Yuri takes my hand and leads me out the doors of the club, I feel as if I am floating, barely attached to my body.

"So," says Yuri, breaking into my thoughts.  "Have you been here before?"

It takes me a moment to focus on her face.  "What?  Oh.  No.  Not here."  I feel my cheeks heat up as soon as I say it: I just sound foolish, especially for the daughter of Mr. Park himself.  Shouldn't someone of as prestigious a family as mine have been everywhere that's anywhere in Seoul by now?  Come to think of it, maybe I have been here before, once or twice.  Tiffany drags me along to so many nightclubs - in a vain attempt to get me to open up - that they all sort of blend together after a while.

Yuri gives me a wry smile.  "I can see that," she says - leaving me wondering if she's making fun of me, or trying to let me off the hook?  But before I can ask, she lets go of my hand and turns away.  "Which car is yours?"

The sudden lack of warmth leaves me reeling.  Okay, what now?  I thought we were, I don't know, going to go for a romantic walk through Gangnam or something.  No, that's ridiculous.  I have to mentally slap myself to remember - most girls aren't gay, Seohyun.  Most of them don't like you that way.

Yuri is watching me expectantly.  She folds her arms.  "Well?"

Which begs the question - why am I trusting her to begin with?  Without thinking, I blurt out, "Why do you need to know?  Are you going to steal my car or something?"

Yuri just smiles.  "Or something," she says, tipping her head, then turns and begins walking slowly along the line of cars on the street.  "Though really, I'd rather be stealing something else tonight."  She stops in front of a glossy black McLaren.  "Your wallet, for instance.  Or," she shrugs, "stealing your heart would be nice."

Wait - did she really just say that, or am I imagining things now?  Either way, I choose to ignore it.  I turn my burning face away and pretend to examine the reflection of the moon in the van parked in front of the McLaren.  "You can have my wallet," I say in an effort to keep things lighthearted.  "But you won't like what's in it."

Yuri raises an eyebrow.  "Why?  What's in it?"

"Um..."  How do I explain to her that it's still got pictures of my ex in it - my ex, who's a woman, who my father still doesn't know about?  My cheeks burn bright with shame and I hang my head.  There's no right answer to the question.

"Money," I say lamely after a long moment.

Yuri snorts.  "Well," she says, moving around to the front of the McLaren, "you'd be right.  I don't want money, and I don't need it.  So," she turns and gestures at the McLaren, "is this yours, then?"

I snort.  " What do you think?" I say, and then, when she raises an eyebrow, clarify quickly, "I mean, it isn't.  Yonghwa doesn't like being high-profile."  In truth, it was my choice to take a Benz instead tonight - Yonghwa protested heavily, because he does like flaunting my father's money - but somehow, between the alcohol in my brain and my quickly reddening cheeks, I feel like somehow it's better to let him take the blame for this.  Like somehow I'll seem more confident if she thinks I was the one who wanted to drive a million-dollar ride here, not my bodyguard.  And then it sinks in that I've lied to her, and it doesn't matter how confident she thinks I am, because she won't trust me after this.  I am left soaking in my own embarrassment while the silence grows.

But Yuri just smiles.  "Trying not to be conspicuous, hm?" she says.  "Good move."

Seeing her smile makes it even harder for me to be rational.  "We can take the train," I say without thinking.  "I mean.  If it goes where you want it to go.  Yonghwa will be with the car.  If he isn't necking some boy in the club.  I mean - "

Yuri laughs.  "Yes, the train goes where we're going," she affirms, "but if you really don't want to stand out, that's the last place you want to go."  She looks me up and down, and I can feel her gaze slide over every inch of my body.  "You look like you're wearing clothes worth about a million dollars...on a body worth a billion more."

Of course.  If we take public transit we'll be robbed, or worse.  My cheeks redden further.  "Then - "

"We can take my bike," she interrupts, drawing away from the McLaren.  "You know how to ride.  Right?"  She turns that brilliant smile again on me.  It's hard to say no.

Nevertheless, I have to be honest.  "Uh - "  I hesitate.  "Yonghwa's let me ride maybe...once?"

"So no."  Yuri's words are softened by a gentle laugh.  "It's not hard, don't worry.  I'll make sure you won't fall off.  Besides - " she gives me a conspiratorial wink - "I have a feeling you're going to be a fast learner."

Which doesn't really make sense - because how does she know if I'm smart at all? - but at this point really any compliment from her makes me weak at the knees, unless it's the alcohol doing that.  Either way, I follow her like a baby bird to the back of the nightclub, keeping my eyes lowered - definitely not fixed on her perfect legs, or the way her hips sway enchantingly with every step.

The back of the nightclub is filled to the brim with exotic cars and rows of gleaming motorcycles.  Yuri stops before a sleek black bike and gestures.  "Ladies first."

I stare at her.  "You're a lady."

"Me?" she says, and chuckles.  "No way.  A lady has to be not only beautiful, but charming, clever, and refined.  That's you."  She gestures deprecatingly at herself.  "But I don't deserve that title."

"Well," I say, still confused, "why not?  I mean, you're charming and clever and refined.  And beautiful, too."

She shakes her head, still smiling.  "Sweetheart," she says, "I don't know what I look like to you, but believe me, if you knew me, you'd know why nobody in their right mind wants to kiss me."

I freeze.  What?  Kiss her?  Why is she bringing this up now?  I try to think of some distant, polite way of telling her it surely isn't true.  Not that I'd know, but my drunk mind keeps insisting it's false modesty.  No one as pretty as her could be all that bad to kiss, right?  Why are we talking about kissing in the first place?

"I'd kiss you anyway," I end up blurting out.

As soon as I realize what I've said, I feel thrilled, then absolutely horrified.  She must know now.  She must know that this whole time I've been drooling over her.  What will she think?  Is she going to leave in disgust?  Tell Father?

But she just laughs.  "See?" she says.  "I told you you're a lady.  Telling me kind things, even when they aren't true at all."  She walks over to the motorcycle, swings one leg over it in one fluid movement.  Then pauses, looking back at me.  That smile still floats around the corners of her lips.  "Are you sure you want to come tonight?  Because I'm becoming more and more convinced you're far too good for me."

I'm confused.  Is she flirting with me?  Genuinely uncertain?  Is this a nice way of telling me to get out while I can still save face?  I waver, and she seems to sense it.

"Well," she says with a shrug, "if you aren't sure, I guess you can find out, hm?"  She gestures.  "Come on - you can sit behind me."

The smile is back in full now, equal parts warm and dazzling.  I realize she's waiting for my reply.

I hesitate.  What sort of game is she playing here?  "Okay," I say, though I feel unsure.

She tips her head.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say, and then, on a sudden whim, "Yes.  But on one condition."

Her eyes sparkle.  "Making bargains now?"

I lift my chin.  "I'm a Park," I say.  "I make demands, not bargains."  Then, taking a deep breath: "Admit that I'm right."

She frowns.  "About what?"

"What I said."  I hold her gaze evenly, as evenly as I can with half a cocktail and God knows how much vodka thickening my blood, the way I imagine Father would when making a business deal.  "That you're a lady, too.  No matter what."

She half-smiles.  "And that you'll kiss me?"

My cheeks flood red.  Oh, she knows.  "Y-yes," I say, and the word comes out shaky and smaller than I'd hoped.

Shes still smiling, but it's somehow sad.

"Okay," she says, "all right, Seohyun, I'll admit that you're right.  For as long as you believe it yourself."  She extends one gloved hand.  "Now are you going to come or not?"

I know she hasn't really budged, but I get on behind her, and she reaches back and hands me a helmet that's hanging off the back of the bike, then starts the engine.  I lean forward and tentatively slip my arms around her waist.  There's something so natural about it - so right.  Her skin smells faintly of cinnamon, mixing with the musty, cool night air.

"What do you mean, those things aren't true about you?" I say against her hair.

She's silent for a long moment.  And, for once, I don't worry that I've offended her.  I want to know the answer.

"You just don't know me well enough," she says finally.  She hesitates, then adds, "I kill people for a living."

It's meant to be a joke - it must be - but she speaks so quietly, for a moment I doubt it.  I laugh anyway.

"What," she says, and I can hear her smile in the way she says it, "you don't believe me?"  She clucks her tongue, then reaches back and pats my helmet.  "Come on, put this on.  Where we're going, you're gonna need it."

Still, I hesitate.  "Should I believe you?"

"Only if you don't want to be next," she says, and now I know she's joking; if she really wanted to kill me, she would have done it a million times by now, because I'm utterly helpless, without Yonghwa, slightly drunk and altogether too trusting of this beautiful stranger I've known for, what, five hours?  Her skin smells really nice, I think woozily.  A murderer wouldn't smell this nice.

Somebow, I think I end up mumbling into her shoulder, "I wouldn't mind that."  Or maybe not.  If she hears it, I don't hear her say anything in reply.  And anything I might say next, to cover up, is drowned out by the sound of the revving engine.  I reach up hastily to put my helmet on.  At least if I die tonight, it should be of embarrassment, not a crash.

She puts on her helmet, too.  In the next moment we are moving, and I feel suddenly seasick.  I wrap my arms tighter around her waist, and am comforted by how strong and solid her warm body is.

In the quiet, comforting cocoon of the helmet, I don't have to think any more about what to say next.  I find myself slowly drifting off - a combination of the alcohol, most likely, with the fact that it is, after all, late at night.  We ride through a sea of seemingly silent lights, and for once I am calm, at peace.

But somewhere in there, floating in the sea between awake and asleep, I imagine I hear her reply.  It can't be, of course.  Neither of us can speak over the road noise, or with these helmets on.  But in that last moment, I think I remember - I am almost convinced that, in the eternity that stretched after my last words, I can hear her saying, very quietly:

"You have no idea."

--

Hello dear readers!  This chapter is a bit short and very late and I apologize for that. ;-; I've been trying to spend more time on my novel lately, and I may have also been procrastinating a little.  Only a little, I promise.  Okay, maybe more than a little, but you'll forgive me, right?  Because I also just made friends with this girl who lives in my city and let me tell you she is very cute and adorable and we have been talking quite a lot.  And she's gay.  And single.  So...y'know.  I've been, ahem, distracted. ^_^;;

I can't promise schedules for upcoming chapters (because I'm lazy and bad at schedules cough cough) but I'll try to put in at least one more update this month.  I have some upcoming interviews including one tomorrow (and my interviewer is also gay, and even married to her wife...we're so gonna be best friends you guys) and I'll let you know how they go - depending on how well I do, I'll hopefully be less stressed and have more time to work on this! <3 Either way, till then, hang tight!  School has just started for my buddies in the U.S., so I hope you're surviving well enough.  You can do it!  I believe in you!  Only four or five months till summer break! *sobs*

Right then, I hope you liked this very very late update enough to not kill me until the next one is up.  (Not that I think you'd really kill me, I trust you and believe you are all wonderful sweet pure children, unlike Yuri, please say I'm right)  I at outtros, so have this: stay awesome!  See you next time, lovelies~