You're a close friend of Han Geng's and met him in highschool. Both of you are very skilled dancers, but you dropped out due to trauma after being and you snapped at him alot, causing the two of you to drift apart before he left for Korea. You are very childish and insecure and still hold feelings for him after all this time. Your name is Li Yin (李 愔) and you're a bar hostess (e). Alternate universe, set somewhere in China; somehow Heechul speaks fluent Chinese and operates a business in China LMFAO (maybe he's not Korean in this story). WARNING: Contains mild language and suggestive matter.

A Burdened Heart

Beep.

"Hello, this is Li Yin's answering service. Sorry, I can't answer the phone the right now. Please leave a message after the tone, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you."

Beep.

You hear a sigh from the other end draw your knees closer, burying your face in them as you cower on a corner of your bed, wanting to disappear.

"Xiao Yin-ah," the gentle man's voice says hesitantly. "Look, I . . ."

Impulsively you picked up and said, in a quivering voice, "Just leave me alone."

And this time, after being told off so many times, he explodes.

"Have it your way, ! I'm just trying to--ugh! Never mind! It's useless to even try to talk to you!" Beep. Beep. Beep. He hung up on you.

You wake up with tears threatening to roll from your eye corners as you remember your best friend from high school. You look at the old man next to you, snoring with drool running into the pillow below his sagging chins and let out a small, distasteful snort before gently stepping out of bed, careful to not disturb your client. You gather your clothes from the floor and dress quickly and silently before leaving the motel room to call your boss from a bathroom stall downstairs.

"Boss, I finished the job," You reported to him, pulling the phone further from your ear as you know that he will start yelling in about three . . . two . . . not even one yet.

"Yin-ah, you have no idea how worried I was about you," Heechul's raspy voice screeches from the little handphone. Who knew so much volume could come from such a little machine, eh? "That bastard was such a sleeze, barely paying off his tab before dragging you out like that! And you were out so long this time . . . I thought he hurt you or something!"

You find yourself smiling sardonically. As much as you hated being a bar hostess, and the job itself merited no honor, you truly were fond of your boss-- Heechul-- as were all the other girls that worked there. He was vulgar and loud, but like a mother to all of you. 

And before you can assure him that you're alright and unharmed, he begins his nagging again.

"Get your mongrel cummed back to the shop in thirty minutes or I'll file a missing persons report to the police." Beep. Beep. Beep. And the line went dead. As usual, Heechul didn't even give you a chance to protest or explain.

You find yourself smiling again, allowing a soft chuckle escape from your stained lips.

At the shop . . .

"Hey, Barbie-doll," A hand slaps your mini-skirted as you enter the bar and you turn to face one of your co-workers, Ying-Ai, and cup her heart-shaped face in your hands, causing her to flinch and squirm against your hold as you inspected her face. Sure enough, there was an ugly bruise around one of those doe like eyes, hidden under all that makeup.

"I'm sorry," you say, lightly pecking the shorter girl's eyes, earning an eyeroll.

"It's fine, jie-jie," she huffs. "Kiddo will probably be thrown out personally by Boss instead of the bouncers next time he comes here."

"Not before he scolds and nags you."

"Ah, so true. Heechul can be like that," your friend says, her eyes getting that faraway look as Heechul appears from behind the bar and makes his way towards the two of you.

"Ying-Ai, take the night off and rest," he says surprisingly softly, ruffling her hair, causing her to look away. Did she just blush? You notice that the boss' eyes follow Ying-Ai as she leaves the shop. "And you."

Brace for it . . .

"It must be really hard, huh?" You blink as you feel his slender fingers holding your head to his shoulder as you tremble and cry in his embrace. "A special customer is coming tonight--well, more like I blackmailed him into coming to a place like this, so not really a client--so I can't give you tonight off, sorry." He releases you, running a hand through his dark mane and rubbing his neck as he turned away, walking a few steps before glancing back at you and tsking at your outfit; you were wearing a skin tight, black leather mini-skirt, mismatched argyle and striped thigh highs, a loose, and a neon-green mesh top with a lacy black camisole under it. And of course, the look was completed with killer six inch pumps and smokey, winged eyeliner.

You stare at your boss as he tsks some more, finally vanishing into his office. Then he came back out with a bundle of clothes and makeup remover in his hands.

"Wear this and light makeup," he orders, depositing his bundle into your arms. Then he spun smartly on his heels and returned to his office.

You look at the frilly, white, victorian-esque sweater and long, light wash skinny jeans he handed you, wrinkling your nose slightly. This was a fashion that was popular with teenage girls. God, his "special client" must be a e or freak.

That evening . . .

You sat, alone in the dimly-lit VIP room, staring at the unlit disco ball hanging from the ceiling while waiting for the "special client" and sigh. You turn on the TV and a Korean drama is playing. You find yourself laughing bitterly, not sure if it was the horrible Chinese dubbing or sappiness that made you feel so angry. Then door opens, and Heechul pokes his head in, smirking when he sees you. His head goes back out and you hear him bicker with someone on the other side.

"Heechullie-ya, you know I don't like es--"

"She's been waiting for you for years, now quit being a rude little --"

"Heechul--"

"--Or I'll tell your agency about your mishap between your little friend and myself."

"--I hate you." You watch the door wearily as Heechul returns, dragging a larger man in by the wrist. "This is Hankyung, one of Asia's top stars. Oops, my bad. His name is Han Geng here." And your heart stops as you hear that name, and you don't dare to look behind Heechul.

"Heechul, I really hate you."

"Your little friend said otherwise when we first met," Heechul replied tartly, slapping the client's before chicly leaving the VIP room.

You hear that familiar sigh again as the man seats himself on the couch across from you, sitting as far from you as he can. His glass clinks on the glass table between the two of you as he sets it down.

"So." He says, stretching his arms behind the couch. "Little miss, what is your name?"

And you look at the client, trying to force your usual coy smile onto your lips but you can't. Tears roll down as you see the shock in his familiar, round eyes, and you hide your face in Heechul's sweater.

"Li Yin-ah?" You hear him whisper in disbelief as his couch creaks when he rises. You feel the space next to dip as he sits beside you, tugging at your arms. "Is this a . . . ? Why . . . here . . . Heechul?" He must be so disgusted with me now . . . "Xiao Yin?" He pulls you closer, embracing you as you cry. "Why . . . ?"

And you tear away from him, leaving him stunned in the darkness as you ran away from the shop, ignoring Heechul on your way out.

The next morning . . .

You sat up straight in bed as your phone keeps going off like a lunatic with no heroin, wanting to tear out the battery but fearing reprecussions from Heechul. So finally, after the thousandth or more time of ignoring his calls, you answered the phone.

"You have thirty minutes to get your girly back here before I file a missing persons report to the police."

"Boss, I--" Beep. Beep. Beep. And he hung up on you, in true Kim Heechul fashion. I want to quit. I want to disappear. I . . .I'm such a burden to you and him . . .

And your phone vibrates; you an unread message:

         It's 29 minutes now. Time's ticking, Cinderella, get here on your own or I'll send a cop van to be your pumpkin carriage. -- Heenim

A new text comes in the next minute. Holy Mother of God, he's really counting down . . . Hastily, you get out of bed, and cringe as you look at the monster in the mirror--rat's nest hair, runny mascara, clean and dark steaks from where the tears washed away the foundation-- you quickly scrub your face as the twenty-five minute warning arrives, running from your apartment in the same clothes that you wore yesterday.

And you arrived at the shop--wheezing and freezing because it's pouring-- as you see Heechul holding the door open for you with his free hand's fingers slowly folding one at a time. 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . Understanding, you ran inside just before he could fold his pinky.

Once inside, he grabs your wrist roughly, dragging you to his office where the rest of the girls were already gathered, all looking wide-eyed, confused, and barely awake. But Ying-Ai was absent.

"Ok, girls," he cleared his throat.

"Boss, if you shut this shop down, where will we go?" someone whispered.

He walks over to her, hands in his pockets and glowering. The person who asked quickly averts her gaze, and Heechul ruffles her hair. "I took you guys off the streets and other bars to work here because I felt like . But, this really isn't the life that your mothers would have wanted for you."

After talking a bit more and saying their good-byes, everyone left except for you and Heechul.

"Change into this and go meet Hannie in the coffee shop across the street," Heechul ordered, depositing another set of clothes into your arms before leaving the shop.

You look at the bundle in your arms; this time it's a white cardigan and knee-length summer dress and floral rain boots.

At the coffee shop . . .

The two of you sit and drink coffee awkwardly, not sure what to say or do.

"So." You begin.

"Why?" He shoots back, staring into his mug.

"I-I . . . I felt like a burden to my parents, since they had to hear day in and day out that their daughter asked for it . . . A-and daddy lost his job, so I--" And he rose suddenly, paid the bill, and left the coffee shop, motioning for you to follow from outside the window after opening his blue umbrella.

Hurry up. He writes with his breath on the glass. You scramble outside, staring at his shoes once you're infront of him. He wraps an arm protectively around your shoulders, and the two of you walk around for a while in silence, stopping infront of the gates of your old high school.

"I'm sorry for being a burden--"

And he brings the umbrella down, concealing the two of you from the public eye as he looks sternly at you.

"I'm sorry that I said those things back then--"

And he cuts you off with a light kiss, his gaze softening.

"You were never a burden, love."

END

20130908 - TYPOSSSSSSSSSSSSSS & slightly inspired by VIXX's "I Don't Want to be an Idol"~ Too tired to comment!!