It’s been days since I washed. I didn’t glance in a mirror this morning, but I know that the bandage on my face is hard with dried blood. I slept in the park last night, and there are so many dead leaves stuck to my coat that it probably looks like a rake. And I purposely stepped in dog crap on my way here.

Yet the waiter at the most exclusive restaurant in Gangnam doesn’t bat an eye.

“Right this way,” he trills. “Mr. Lee is expecting you.”

The tables I brush past are filled with some of the city’s most powerful people. My father may actually be sitting among them. This is his favorite restaurant, and he must know I’m here. But I refuse to search for his face in the crowd. If my dad sent Jungyeop to find me, I want him to see that I’m not afraid.

I’ve already had everything taken away. He was the one who made sure I had nothing to lose.

My lunch companion is waiting at a table against the far wall. I glance at his satisfied, smirking face. I estimate the cost of his stylish gray suit. I take note of the slight bulge in the pocket of the jacket. He’s already replaced the wallet he lost.

“Thank you for coming, Flick,” he says. “That’s your name, am I right?”

He’s playing with me. We both know that. “We both know that’s not my real name,” I reply.

“And since you received my invitation, you know my name as well.” He studies me while he waits for a response. I say nothing.

“Excellent! What a remarkable poker face! Not even the slightest twitch.

“Why does everything seem so amusing to this ? “You’re Lee Jungyeop. You run the Woollim Academy.”

“That’s correct.”

“I thought you people were supposed to help street kids, not pay them to rob houses.”

“I was helping you, Flick. The job I gave you was what you might call an entrance exam.” He changes the subject before I can figure out what he meant.

“What, may I ask, have you heard about the Woollim Academy?”

It’s an odd thing to ask. “Everyone knows about the Woollim Academy. Where would you like me to start?”

“Let’s start with whatever your father has told you.” I laugh.

“You sure you want to start there? Everything the man’s ever said was a lie.”

Jungyeop chuckles. “Yes, your father is a master of twisting the truth to his own advantage. But I promise—I’ll never be anything but honest with you. The academy was founded by my great-great-grandmother, Lee-Kwon Ahran, in the 1870s. Very few people know about the institution’s early days. Until the turn of the century, it was known as the Grand Sudokwon School. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it?”

“No.”

“Yes, well, it was a different beast back then. But it did share our current goal of educating disadvantaged youths. Many were pickpockets and thieves just like you. My grandmother had an eye for talent. Her school was a stunning success from the start.”

“Yeah?” I fake a yawn. I don’t want him to know that I’m interested.

“So why the name change?” It seems to be a question that my host is eager to answer.

“My grandmother was a philanthropist, but she was also a businesswoman. And I’m not ashamed to admit that some people called her a criminal. She made a fortune trading in stolen goods. When the police shut her down, she fled to China, where she died an extremely wealthy woman. Her son wanted to continue the good work that his mother had begun in Gangnam.” He continued with a flourish of his hands.

“Unfortunately, the Grand Sudokwon School was tainted by its association with the Lee-Kwon family. So he dropped ‘Kwon” from our name and opened the Woollim Academy under the name of Lee Jungsoo. Woollim, for resonance – He wanted his influence to resound around all of the world. It’s in a beautiful building. Have you seen it?”

“No.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, fingers entwined, eyes on me. “Would you like to?”

I lean in too. “I didn’t come here for a history lesson or a sightseeing tour. You know who I am. You knew where to find me. You’ve obviously been watching me, and I want to know why.”

“Because I’d like to offer you a place at the Woollim Academy.”

This time I can’t hide my surprise. Jungyeop eats it up.

“It’s a wonderful opportunity,” he continues, sitting back against the plush banquette. “We’re considered the best school in the country, and we only admit eighteen students a year. Since 1960, every one of our graduates has been awarded a full scholarship to an top-notch university.”

“I thought the Woollim Academy only accepts charity cases. I’m not exactly what you’d call disadvantaged.”

I get the sense that he and I define the word differently. But he’d rather humor me than argue. “I’ve decided to make an exception in your case. Although I must say, you look rather disadvantaged at the moment. And you smell even worse.”

We’re still dancing around the real issue. “My father is on the Woollim Academy’s board of directors. Does he know about this?”

“Certainly! All of our students are carefully vetted. I could never hide a candidate from a member of our board. Your father has been informed of my plans every step of the way.”

“Then tell me this.” I lean even closer. “Why the f— do either of you think I’d attend that bastard’s precious alma mater?”

“For the same reason you’ve been living in his old neighborhood for the past seven months. You want to grow up to be just like him.”

I grin. There’s no longer any reason to stay, so I scoot my chair away from the table. “I was almost impressed. But you’ve got me all wrong.”

“Have I?” Jungyeop asks before I can make my exit.

“Tell my father I’ll see him soon.”

“Without my help, you’ll never be ready to face him,” Jungyeop says.

The surprise forces me back down in my seat. “What do you mean?” I growl.

“Your father is one of Seoul’s richest men. You grew up in a mansion in Incheon. And yet you’ve chosen to live on the streets. You must imagine the hardship will toughen you up. But do you honestly believe that a few months on the slums in Guryong can teach you everything you need to know?

“The place is a theme park for tourists. You’re just part of the show. You’re not really dangerous. You pick a few pockets, throw a few punches, then hurry home to your sweet little boyfriend.”

My stomach drops. He’s talking about Sunggyu. He’s not supposed to know about Sunggyu. I feel a jolt of fear for the first time in months. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

He grins in a way that makes my stomach clench. “No, I suppose he’s much more than that. Have you told him why you’re here? Does he know who you are? Does he know who your father is?”

He doesn’t expect any answers. He thinks he already has them. “What’s going on? Is this some sort of sick game?”

“Call it whatever you like, Flick,” Jungyeop says. His smile has vanished.

“But you wouldn’t be here right now if I wasn’t on your side.”

AN: I'm sorry for the short updates - but its about to get more exciting (with hopefully longer chapters), so stay tuned~