There are only two things. Truth and lies. Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.

- Franz Kafka

Approximately 200 times a person lies each day. I was probably left out of this statistic. I would let it spike upwards quite a bit, probably exactly as the man I waited for. When thinking about it, it was fairly strange that somebody whose job it is to be bringing the truth to light has made it a habit to constantly live a lie. If there would be another possibility, perhaps I would seize it, but an honest person gets no honest answers in this world. He gets generally none. Somebody dishonest can at least commence the attempt to filter the truth from the lies. Most time however, it is not a matter of determining circumstances, but about little things, to make living easier. The habit of lying starts in early infancy when a child learns that it can scream not only because it’s hungry but also because it lies to be hungry just because it wants his mother’s attention. Despite the contrary believe telling lies is something human and that is probably why I answered the waiter that the wine was delicious as he asked me while pouring the second glass even though I found the taste horrendous. I didn’t even feel like drinking and I already noticed how the first glass messed with my head, but I needed the pretext to stay awhile longer and so I kept on playing the businesswoman who had had a miserable day. It wasn’t that farfetched, despite the fact that I was no woman and worked as a freelancer. Well the miserable day part was at least accurate and that should count for something.

The door was opened and I felt a cold draft on my neck. I pulled a hand mirror and my lipstick out of the small black bag that was constantly handing over the backrest of the chair. While I colored my lips with scarlet red, I observed the man who handed his shockingly expensive coat to a waiter. The suit he carried sat perfectly, the tie matching in color. There was an arrogance and confidence radiating from this person that I seldom saw.

But this was not what interested me. It was nothing what I had not seen hundredfold on television. His appearance was flawless, his image undefiled, at least on the surface. Or that is what I wanted to find out. I wanted to know whom he met here. I stored away the mirror and the lipstick and brought out my mobile. A feigned telephone call suited very well to make a few snapshots. I turned to the table at which he sat. I didn’t need to look inconspicuous because everybody who was in the bar had eyed his entrance. He was unequivocally a very well-known man. I carried on my fictive conversation with a fictive friend about a fictive dinner which I had to call off, unfortunately.

The man who was seated on the opposite looked on the contrary rather insignificant. His face showed no information about his mood. All in all it was quite stoic. He looked like the kind of person who one bumped into on the street and asked himself, where the hell he had come from. He had dark hair with greying temples which already thinned out at some places and was of a small and thin stature. However, I felt fast that under this insignificant frontage something was hidden. I had no doubt that I was at the right time at the right place for a change.

I turned again towards the bar and took a small gulp of wine which burned my sense of taste.

The door opened again and I saw from the corner of my eyes how the insignificant man, now I could recognize that he was rather small, disappeared again. The meeting was fairly short what meant two things, first I was completely right and secondly I had practically no chance of pursuing the man and all I was left with were some blurry pictures of him.  

I decided to wait my obligatory three-and-a-half minutes, until I could make my way home without making the appearance of following him. Neither this bar not the wine were my taste after all. The interior arrangement was dark, tables and chairs made of heavy dark wood and the light was dimmed. The entrance to this bar was so unobtrusive that one did not recognize it from the outside. If you didn’t know where to go you would hardly find it. I had the feeling this was exactly the intention of the owner. I was glad that I could soon make my way home to open a good bottle of wine, however, as usual, life didn’t play the way I wanted.

“May I invite you to a drink,” he said. His perfect smile showed perfect teeth.

“I remain with my wine, however, you may join me, if you’d like,” I answered, trying to sound as feminine as possible while putting the hair of my long caramel colored wig behind my ears.

I could hardly beat off a conversation with the man whose dirty secrets I wanted to unveil.

“Choi Minho,” he introduced himself.

“Lee Eunbyeol,” I lied again.

“Completely alone in this part of town in a place like this, unusually for a woman,” he stated.

“As unusual for a politician,” I answered.

He laughed, not too loudly, not too brightly. This man could really reenact everything in the smallest detail.

“A politician must be present for every person, does he not?” he asked me.

“For everyone?” I asked.

“Of course,” he answered a touch of a question lingered in his eyes as he pulled out a cigar from his suit pocket and lightened it. The smoke spread out and exuded a pleasantry smell. I deeply inhaled and regretted it then bitterly.

I started to cough. As fast as I could I pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket, turned away and held it in front of my mouth.

“Is everything alright?” he asked politely. I wondered if it was a feigned concern or a real worry. I had troubles to notice the difference. I normally was quite good at reading someone’s interests. Like always it happened at the moment in which I permitted myself no weakness where I saw the red drops spreading through the white fabric. I hoped he had not noticed anything.

 “Excuse me”, I said while looking for some money that I almost threw on the counter and rushed outside where I took some deep breath of the cold air while hurrying along the street looking for a cap. I was too afraid to pass out while waiting for a bus. It had to let this enormous chance slip to find out more about him. It had been no coincidence that I had tried to fit what I thought could be his type and now I had to go before I fainted and he would find out who I really was.

I soon found a cab and ordered the driver to take me somewhere close to my home, but not exactly where I was living. I doubted that someone was following me or would show any interest in knowing where I lived, nonetheless this precaution let me feel more at ease.

As we arrived I paid him and gave him an extremely generous tip and ran directly to the cigarette machine. There I made sure that nobody was following me, while I bought a packet. As I fetched it the warning printed on it with bold black letters caught my eyes.

‘Smoking Causes Lung Cancer, Heart Disease, Emphysema, And May Complicate Pregnancy.’

I heard destiny laughing disdainfully at me. Out of 6.7 billion people 1.2 million people die due to lung cancer. Soon it would be one more. I took the packet and it into the next trash as I made my way home.

Authors note: the story is completely written out of Key’s POV. I hoped you liked the first chapter. Thanks for reading. J.J.