Dressed in an oversized navy shirt tucked in black ripped jeans and with her hair tied up in a loose bun, Baram stood out like a sore thumb in the upscale cocktail bar situated in central Seoul. The general clientele were well-dressed businessmen wearing watches that likely would have cost her three months of rent but she did not care. In that moment, she cared for nothing but to drown out the storm of emotions battling inside of her.

Gripping tightly onto the glass, Baram stared at the amber liquid swirling inside, glistening under the lights as if mocking her and her current state. Lifting the glass to her lips, the disheveled girl tilted her head back, feeling the whisky burn as she downed it all in one go. Pushing the empty glass across the counter, she signalled towards the bartender.

“One more Laphroaig please. No ice, just a dash of water.”

A bitter smile crawled onto the girl’s pale face as she stared at the refilled glass in front of her, the smokey aroma of the whisky drifting into her nose. It was his favourite whisky, ordered the way that he liked. The girl shook her head, wondering why she was torturing herself like that. Taking a sip of the drink, a sudden wave of nausea hit her as she felt the ghost of his touch all over her again, caressing her thigh, leaving butterfly kisses across her bare neck, marking his dominance.

Biting on her lower lip to contain the string of curses that threatened to be unleashed, the metallic taste of blood mixed with that of the whisky in Baram’s mouth. Taking another sip of the drink, Baram flinched at the sting caused by the alcohol rubbing into her teared skin.

“Care for some company? You look lonely.”

Sliding her eyes to her right, Baram stared at the intruder through unfocused eyes. She scrutinised the drunk male wearing a navy custom made suit as he leaned towards her, one arm leaning against the counter and the other placed on the back of her stool, preventing her from escaping. Every time he spoke, the stench of rum wafted through the air, attacking her sense of smell. Scrunching her nose, Baram gulped down the remainder of her drink and left some notes on the counter while waving her hand at the bartender.

“Keep the change.”

Forcefully pushing the man aside, Baram stumbled along her feet as she trudged towards the toilet both to escape from the unwanted company and to splash some cold water on her face and wash away the fuzziness taking over her brain.

Gripping tightly on the edges of the sink, Baram stared at her reflection in the mirror, failing to recognise the shattered face looking back at her. Her eyes trailed across the mirror, seeing the dark circles under her swollen eyes, her smudged eyeliner and the thin trace of blood on the edge of her lips.

Inhaling deeply, Baram pushed open the door, aiming to make a beeline towards the exit, only to be pulled away by a pair of rough hands, harshly gripping on her forearms. Feeling her back crash against the brick wall behind her, Baram let out a grunt of pain as she lifted her head to come face to face with the same drunken man from earlier.

“Get off me,” Baram sneered at the man.

“Oh so now you talk.”

Ignoring her attempts to push him away, the man grabbed her chin and forced his lips on her, his tongue desperately trying to access . Keeping firmly shut, Baram jabbed her hands against the man’s neck, leaving scratch marks along his skin, making him grunt at the unexpected pain. Raising his hand to touch his neck, the man growled at the sight of blood on his fingers.

“You .”

Before Baram managed to free herself from the man, he grabbed a hold of her neck, forcing her back against the wall yet again, temporarily cutting off her air supply. The lack of oxygen mixed with the alcohol in her system caused Baram to get double vision. Struggling to keep her eyes open and prevent her limbs from going numb, she made one last week attempt to kick the man holding her down but with no success.

Just as she started losing strength, the weight against her body was suddenly lifted, making her lose balance and fall onto the ground. Grasping for air, Baram her sore neck, catching a glimpse of red from the corner of her eyes while her ears caught the sound of powerful punches and painful grunts.

“Don’t show up here ever again.” An unfamiliar voice threatened the man.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Baram saw a hand extended in front of her. Eyes trailing along the arm towards the owner of the hand, she squinted her eyes in an attempt to focus her blurry vision. She registered the unfamiliar male’s crimson red hair, so bright and full of life, blazing like the fire.

“Ryu Baram, are you just going to leave me hanging.”

Baram frowned at the red haired male as he called out her full name. Tilting her head to the side in confusion, she wracked through her brain to place a name on the face of the male in front of her. All the while, his hand was still extended waiting for her to take.

Eyes still on the male, Baram refused his extended arm and instead pushed herself up. Seeing her struggle, the male took a step closer, gently wrapping his hand around her elbow to provide some support only for her to flinch away, almost falling down again. Eyes widening in shock, the red haired male retracted his hands. Stuffing them in his pockets, he gave the girl a lop-sided smile as if to ease her from any sense of danger. Seeing his boyish grin, something clicked in Baram’s mind as a look of recognition flickered in her eyes.

“Mark Tuan.”

“The one and only.” Taking in her current state, Mark signalled her to follow him. “Let’s get you out of here. Some fresh air might do you some good.”

They wordlessly left the cocktail bar, walking down the late streets of Seoul as the Saturday nightlife was still in full swing.

“Which direction are you headed?” Mark asked, his phone in his hand ready to call a taxi for the girl.

“Itaewon, I’ll walk there,” Baram replied, her tone firm.

Returning his phone into his pocket, Mark shrugged his shoulders and fell in step with the girl.

“Me too. I’ll keep you company I suppose.”

Baram did not say anything in response, thus Mark took her silence as permission to walk her back. Scratching his neck as he was unsure of what to say in that moment, the male found himself scrutinising the girl who he had not seen in years. Their last encounter was at their high school graduation back in America and nothing could have prepared him to run into her in a high end cocktail bar while being harassed by a violent drunk. When he first caught a glance of her, he was certain that he had seen wrong, but his gut feeling kept nagging at him to intervene and boy was he glad that he did.

Turning his head slightly to have a better view of Baram, Mark noted the way her shoulders sank as if she was bearing the entire weight of the world on her back. Traces of dried tears could be seen running down her cheeks and her dark eyes bore no spark of joy or vitality. As his eyes landed on her lips, he felt his heart skip a beat at just how round