All I wanted to do was make out with some hot babe tonight, maybe take her back to my place.

But this annoying girl just killed the mood.

Hwayoung or Hweyoung or whatever her name was scurries back inside the club, calling, “Find me when you’re done.”

How idiotic of her. I don’t “find” women. I just replace the old ones with new ones. It's an efficient technique, actually.

"What do you want?” the annoying girl standing in front of me flares, sticking her hands on her hips. I eye her from top to bottom. Grubby clothing, black hair tied in a messy ponytail, dark circles under her eyes, slightly chapped lips. 

Good lord. She looks like one of those poor girls who're all prideful and obnoxious. 

Nope. Not getting involved with that.

“Look, stop camping out behind a club,” I command. “You’re going to get caught. Who studies here anyway? Just go home.”

“Why can’t I stay here? Is this your club?” she demands.

I scoff. “It’s not your club either.”

“Mind your own business!” she exclaims. 

“I don’t want to see wish-wash by the likes of you hanging around here,” I say coldly, walking closer and closer until I’m towering over her. “Are you trying to delude yourself by thinking that you’re on the level of someone like me? Snap out of it. Now, get out of here and go somewhere else.”

“What if I don’t have anywhere to go?” she screams, clenching her fists angrily by her side. Despite her frustrated words I detect a crack in her voice, a sense of desperation. 

We stare each other in the eyes for an entire minute, only the sound of our breaths breaking the silence of the night. A feeling of contemptful pity over takes me and I finally break eye contact. Fishing out my wallet, I retrieve several thousand won bills and it at her.

“There’s a sauna a few minutes away from here,” I tell her, turning around. “Stay there instead of sleeping out on the streets.”

The girl’s jaw drops. “Wh- I wasn’t planning to sleep here!” she protests weakly, but I can see through her lie.

I know she’s homeless; I can tell by the single bag she has placed next to her, the way she fidgets when she gets so defensive when I tell her to go home.

“I don’t want to see you here again,” I say grimly as I walk away. 

When the taxi stops in front of 53 Tehrano, I am greeted with a dark, forlorn house. "You sure this big mansion is your house?" the driver asks dubiously.

"Obviously." I hand him the taxi fare and step out, the cool nightime air hitting my face. Hurriedly unlocking the tall, wood-paneled back door, I kick off my shoes and head inside. Everything is still, dark, calm. My parents are sleeping in their room and the maids have finished cleaning for the day.

I'm the only one awake in this house. 

My room is slightly messy as usual; I leave specific instructions for the maids not to clean or rearrange it. I like it the way it is; framed pictures of my friends and I sitting on the dresser, a few pieces of miscellaneous clothing strewn around the floor, a stack of magazines sitting on the floor. The door to my bathroom is slightly ajar, the scent of lemon Ajax drifting from the room.

The only detractor to this area is a half-filled suitcase is sitting on the floor. It lies there like a foreboding omen, reminding me of the world tour I'll have to leave for with my family next week. I avoid the suitcase. 

This room is where I’ve spent the last 20 years of my life. And in a week, I’m going to be leaving it for 5 months to accompany my father on his Crazy Party SPAZ World Tour. 

"It'll be just like a family vacation!" my mother chirped. "We're all going together with a chef and the butler and a few other planners, of course, but this is a great opportunity, Jongdae!" 

Yeah, a great opportunity to see my father act like a lunatical psychopath experiencing a mid-life crisis in front of an audience of thousands. 

You think your parents are mortifying? Try having SPAZ as a father.

It's lonely nights like these when I begin to reflect on myself, my actions, my passions, what I actually want to do with my life.

I don't like it. 

I don't like it one bit. 

I think back to that homeless girl outside the club today. I don't even know her and she makes my stomach clench. It's because of the resilient air she possessed, that stubborness, that determination that reminds me how weak-willed and shallow I've become. 

I remember when I used to have something to fight for, just like her. 

But as the currents of time flowed by, my dreams slowly became swept away with them. 

It's not fair. 

how cryptic jongdae