~Your POV (Choi Hana)~

We'd been in China for not even an hour, and i was already sick to death. If i had to watch Sylla bend over the edge of the balcony in a weak attempt to show my dad her body, i may actually die. For one, the woman was a mere 6 years older then me, and a whole 17 years younger then my dad. It was enough to make me sick. 

AND IF THAT WASN'T BAD ENOUGH, I THINK MY DAD ACTUALLY ENJOYED HER LITTLE BALCONY SHOWS.

The scoundral just couldn't keep it in his pants. I don't even know why we brought Sylla with us. I mean, even my beefy long-time bodyguard didn't come with us. And i'm starting to really doubt that we came here for a conference; this was based on the fact that my dad only packed two suits, and usually the bare minimum was five.

"Sir, look! There's a jacuzzi in the bathroom, would you like me to run you a bath?" That annoying shrill voice of hers sounded like rusty nails in a blender, For some strange reason, there just so happened to be only a room with two beds left. And apparently my father was too much of a gentleman to make our housemaid sleep on the couch; and too much of a - to sleep on the couch himself. I don't think i've ever been this revolted. EVER.

"Yes Sylla, i would enjoy that. Hana, what are you doing today? Do you plan to nap?"

"I plan to go gamble the night away and then maybe get impregnated by the ringleader of an underground drug organisation. Oh and if i have time, i might make a tape, because ya know, that's the new fad." My father just looked at me, probably wondering where he went wrong in his life. I stared at him back and then subtly stared at Sylla, hoping to dear god that he would get the idea.

Apparently not.

"You have a key, be back before sunrise, and don't get in a scandal for the love of--"

"Siiiir~, your bath is ready!" And off he ran, completely forgetting about his only daughter.

~Soryong POV~

Dae didn't come back last night. 

We'd went to a friends party and i seemed to have lost my other half among the copious amounts for sweaty flesh. 
I hated house parties; especially ones that were held in small apartments. 
It was always so musky, so cloudy, the air thick with the stench of alcohol and sweat.

I have no idea why Daeryong insisted we went. 
We barely even knew the guy whose party it was.

I'd spent most of the night on the balcony, overlooking the slums of China. 
The thin streets with the crumpled shopkeeps most people would steer clear from, i was always drawn to.
The dull lights overlooking the alleyway below the balcony, illuminated a drunk young man, deperately trying to stand up.
I wavered at the scene when i saw a flash of what looked to be violet hair, and a leather jac