It was a very humid night in Seoul that day. Or maybe it was just how Kibum felt; the air in that place always gave him the same feeling, reminding him of the dirty that he was.

He could hear his own thoughts being overwhelmed by the loud music coming from the door behind the changing room he was sitting in. . Almost ready, but not quite yet, to the show that everyone had been waiting for since the moment they came into that place. The 'place' was a club; as his boss always explained whenever someone new from the police (who was so not corrupted) tried to mess with it. Oh it was a club just fine, but there was so much more behind it that no one could even imagine. Well no one, except the people who dealt with the mafia.

Despite the loud music, Kibum managed to get lost in his thoughts. He imagined the humid air that was making him feel nauseous belonged to a bath house, or some sauna place where everything you did was relax. Kibum never felt relaxed whenever he stepped foot into the club. His job wasn't very calming either because it always required him to feel high, to make his audience feel excited.

He was starting to get extremely lost in his musings, when a loud thump came from the door.
"You're next , give 'em a ing good time!" someone yelled from behind the door without even bothering to open it. He knew Kibum was there, waiting for his turn.
Kibum stood up. He put on his well-prepared clothes for his performance; the kind that were easy to take off during a dance. Not that Kibum wasn't a pro at removing his own clothes. He did it every night.

He felt the nauseous feeling from earlier mounting inside of him, so he leaned on the lockers, looking completely perplexed. His gaze slowly reached the desk in front of him. Something white, a pill to be exact, was waiting for him. It was luring him to take it, to make everything stop. No, to make everything start that night. Kibum slowly made his way towards it, his mind fogged. He took it without thinking about it for more than half a second, but if he were to be honest with himself, he did, for a moment, wonder about what he was doing.

That was his boss', his owner's purpose: to turn him into a machine. And after a year of taking the same pills over and over again, he could only agree that he had become one. And every single man in that place ing loved it.

The loud music stopped. There was another stripper before him, an irrelevant one, like his boss liked to say. Only Kibum was lucky, only he was important enough to up the boss and to be considered his favourite pet.

His boss told him that the pills weren’t some kind of dangerous drugs, but Kibum didn't believe it one bit. He knew he was being drugged. He swallowed it up fast, and waited the usual ten seconds. Everything around him stopped, and he felt hotness overwhelming him. But this time, it was coming from the inside, from his thighs and his throat.

He walked out of the changing room, which was right under the stage. His ears still couldn't adjust to the silence following the loudness from minutes ago. He was ready to show his body to every hungry man who had paid for it. He gave a sign to the DJ that he was ready and then the room went dark.

Seconds later, a very slow-tuned song started. It was some kind of exotic music, mixed with some slow beating. A spotlight focused on the figure of Kim Kibum, who was standing in the middle of the stage, motionless. When he started moving, he could feel the heat invading and possessing him, the music taking everything out of him: his fear, his anger, his hope and above all, his sensuality.

His movements were slow and perfectly in tune with the music. His still clothed leg spreading on the floor and his body undulating, his mouth half opened, forming a sensuous smirk. He could feel the pill slowly taking effect, his body burning in a delightful way. His body got stimulated and he was liking it too much to even realize that he was playing everyone's game. He removed one button from his y white transparent shirt, and touched his lips, making the most pleasing expression he was capable of.

Suddenly, the light went on, but it was part of his performance so he didn't stop. He didn't want to stop; he could have gone like that all night. He slowly, with lascivious movements, started removing his pants. He could look at every man's face now. That was how they liked it: to be looked right into their eyes to make them feel special in Kibum's eyes. The truth was, Kibum cared for none of them.

His eyes scanned the whole place, making hidden and fake invitations to every single pair of eyes they met. It was then that he saw it. That gaze. The one that he hardly hoped he would have met again. The body was half hidden in the darkness, but Kibum could recognise those eyes anywhere, anytime, anyhow. He forgot what he was doing, he got lost in those eyes that were trying to tell him something. They were trying to make him realize something. Everything around the stage stopped. His ears couldn't distinct the music, it was just noises and even his vision started to blur, mixing everything up.

He finally managed, after few seconds, to regain his control and hoped that no one had noticed his momentary black out. If someone did and complained, he didn't know what his master was going to do, other than what he always did. He would punish him severely, and Kibum feared him.

The music finished soon after, and so did his performance. He collected the money people threw at him during his dance, his gaze drifting once more, searching for those eyes again. He found them, and they were looking right back at him. This time he also spotted his full lips and that sharp jawline Kibum could never get enough of. He remembered. And something really hurtful reached his heart, like someone was squeezing it painfully and releasing it for just half a second only to make him feel the pain again. Kibum wanted to run to him, he wanted to tell him how ing angry he was. He wanted to make him feel pain, he wanted to hit him, he wanted to slap him but most of all, he wanted to kiss him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand grabbing his arm and dragging him off of the stage. It was his boss' spiteful and dirty lap dog. Kibum knew he was jealous of him because his master preferred Kibum to him, and he never tried to hide it.

Kibum didn't try to stop him. He knew where he was going. The show wasn't over, it had just begun. That was the worst part of his job. Being forced, every single day, to have with his filthy master, and being forced to follow all his orders and to submit to him.

Kibum's thoughts went back to those eyes. Those were the eyes that belonged to the only one he wanted to make love with, the only one Kibum had always loved.

A year ago, those eyes disappeared and Kibum's hell started soon after. A hell he wanted to escape from, wanted to run away from, as far as possible. That was why every night after his master forced him to go to sleep in his bed, he wished to never wake up the next day.

That night though, Kibum dreamed of those eyes and those lips whispering to him in their most intimate moment, "Soon, Kibum. I'll come back to you."