Chapter 4: Hot Box

On Saturday, after a quick dinner with a couple of colleagues from Marketing, Baekhyun hailed a cab on the main drag in Sinsa. It was a congested half-hour ride to Hongdae - he spent the time dozing with his eyes lightly shut. He cracked open an eye when he felt the brief telltale flutter of weightlessness as they took the bridge over the river - but there was nothing to see. It was a foggy, cold night.

Baekhyun awoke to the driver asking him where he wanted to be dropped off. He squinted away the cobwebs of sleep and glanced out the windows. "Just there is fine," he said waving to the corner just ahead. "Thanks." He pulled out a few bills and passed them to the driver, then hopped out onto the street.

There were people everywhere. It wasn't the same kind of congestion one saw in, say, Dongdaemun, where hordes of shoppers clamored to and from the many wholesalers in hopes to snatch up the latest fashion at the best price - where one had to squeeze their way past not only people but clothing mannequins. Here, the energy was less frenetic; everyone looked like they had someplace to be, and would arrive right when they wished to. Between the club scene, the indie music scene, the hofs, the vintage shopping, the cafes, and the university, Hongdae was nothing short of a destination. 

Tugging the collar of his jacket closer around his neck, Baekhyun fell in step with the crowds. Glancing up and around as he trudged through the fog, a warm light from a familiar glass facade drew his attention. He stepped off the street and stared at the door for a long moment. A couple burst through the doors, laughing and jostling past him as they joined the stream of passers-by.

Once he was inside, Baekhyun recognized the joint as the one he'd visited a few nights prior. He snagged a stool at the far end of the bar and ped his coat. 

"What can I get you?" A young woman with cascading waves of dyed red hair approached him. Baekhyun rubbed his hands together and blew on them, glancing at the shelves of liquor for inspiration. "A Gin Gimlet," he said, lowering his hands. There was time to kill before the show, and no better way to kill it.

"Sure thing," she smiled and set herself to task. While he waited, Baekhyun took stock of the setting - from the low, soft lighting that emanated from suspended cylindrical glass lamps, to the dark polished wood of the bar and tables. His gaze combed across the room, pausing in particular on the wait staff.

"Here you go," chirped the petite bartender, sliding the drink across to him on a cocktail napkin. "Shall I open a tab?" Baekhyun shook his head and flicked a few bills out of his money clip to pay for the drink.

"Is there--" he started, with a slight, perplexed frown, "is there another bartender who works here?" He lifted a hand over his head. "Tall guy, wears a hat?"

The bartender laughed and arched a brow. "Oh, he's off tonight. Why, are you a fan?" Baekhyun instantly disliked the suggestive lilt of her tone, and he quickly ended the conversation with a scowl and a definitive 'No'. Why did she have to say it like that? He just wanted to find the bartender so he could express his gratitude, maybe ask a few questions to fill in the blanks of that night, and apologize for being a burden. He put the drink away in record time and headed to the venue.

The Hot Box was a two story affair with a crowd rather than a line out front. A pastiche of punk inspired style bedecked the patrons, who wore easygoing confidence and blase indifference as well as they wore spikes, stripes, and eyeliner. Sipping cocktails of questionable colors, lips dripping coils of cigarette smoke, they barely spared Baekhyun a glance before he was yesterday's news. 

Flashing his business card at the bouncer, a teeshirt and newsboy-capped youth, he was ushered inside by a girl named Yulia who carried a clipboard against her perky bosom and had a corseted waist like a single rose vase. Blonde streaked hair reached her waist and cat-like eyeliner made her light eyes stand out in the atmospheric darkness of the venue. She led him past the box office - a broom closet sized affair - and coat check, to a staircase obscured behind heavy velvet curtains. At the top of the stairs she unlatched the velvet rope and pulled it aside, letting him pass with a dip of her head. 

"Are they running on time?" Baekhyun asked.

"As much as anyone is," she replied with a smile, and slipped back down the stairs.

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