•••

9:50 pm.

"Babygirl," Cherry calls me by my nickname as he is doing my makeup for tonight, both sharing the changing room together with no one else to bother us. "Hm?" I gaze in his dark brown eyes, and he pulls away to stare. A smile forms on his face as if he was thinking about something particular. "Who took care of your feet?"

"Mister Jeon," I unconsciously curl my toes, wondering why he asked such a question. "I knew it," he glances down, expressing some odd amusement. "You got pretty close to him lately, haven't you?"

I nod, toying with my fingers. "Why? Is it so obvious?"

"Kinda," he chuckles, peeking down at his makeup brushes, but he remains quiet for a few seconds, then grabs one of them. "He's a sweet man, don't you think?"

"I do," I avert my eyes from him. "I love being with him a lot. He's so caring."

"Yes, and he apparently cares a lot about you," he gazes up at me, bringing up what I did not expect. "You think so?"

"I don't think, I heard it," he reveals, staring into my eyes and getting to a point that I am gradually eager to reach. "What does that mean?" I ask for more information, and he straightens his back but sits down on the chair on my right. "I talked with Mister Jeon last night before he left," he crosses his legs, his long wavy hair softly moving but resting on his chest. "And I mentioned you. I had to because I never saw a client being so close, gentle, and respectful towards a girl who works in a nightclub. We didn't talk that much about you, but it was enough for me to realize that you're special to him," he smiles, broadly. "What did he say to make you believe so?"

"Well," he intertwines his hands to hold his knee with them, and I cannot help but peek down at his pretty long acrylic nails. "He first smiled as soon as I said your name, so that was cute, and he told me that, for some reason, he feels the need to be there for you, to make sure you're okay, he wants to protect you and have you near," he says the words without holding back, making me happy but not even knowing about it. "It's funny to me because the way he speaks about you, the way his eyes sparkle, or his smile appears once this is about you is so different from what I see from Sookyung. This man is your boyfriend, yet he acts like you're nothing but a sex worker among the others."

I gulp down at the comparison he just made, knowing how right he is.

"But anyway, Jungkook seems very attached to you, and I've known him for a long time already, so I know that you can trust him," he leaves the chair to go back to what he was doing. "Don't be scared to ask for his help if you need it and that I'm not around. You're his little baby girl," he laughs in a discreet manner, but my heart flutters at the sound of this sentence.

I smile and cannot stop myself from imagining Mister Jeon call me that. My stomach would be full of butterflies.

"Let him treat you like a princess and don't refuse anything he wants to give you, this does not happen that much, and he genuinely wants to do it," he turns around with the eyelashes curler after letting it warm up. "Sookyung doesn't even want me to stay with him anymore..." I let him know about it but read some bother through his features. "No way. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, he said he's acting weird lately, and apparently, he was complaining to Mister Jeon because he never asks for services from me," I explain everything to the only one I trust among my co-workers, knowing he will listen and try to help. "He said that?"

"Yes, and from what Mister Jeon said, he was complaining, but I don't know exactly," I do not say anything with certainty since I did not get more than that, and he sighs but comes closer to continue the makeup. "Don't give a damn about what this man says. Just spend time with Mister Jeon if he makes you feel good, I'll cover you," he shows me his precious and contagious smile, putting one on my face.

50 minutes later...

I step towards Mister Jeon's room with a bucket full of ice, and one bottle of his favorite Champagne, and I open the door. I step inside and put the stuff down on the table, close the curtains, then check the mirrors and sofa to make sure everything is clean.

Once this is done, I turn the purple led lights on, and I get one glass and place it down in front of his usual spot so that I know everything is ready. After this task, I leave the room and go back downstairs but hear the loud music again.

I wish I could wear earplugs, I am going to end up deaf with this in my ears every day.

Not knowing when Mister Jeon will be here since Sookyung does not want to inform me about anything related to him anymore, I move towards the tables and dancefloor to check what the clients are doing, but someone stops me.

"Bring me to my room, Babygirl," Kangdae holds me by my waist as firmly as he can, already asking for me when he got here only a few minutes ago. I do not refuse since this is my job to serve them, and I lead him to his VIP room upstairs.

I hope Mister Jeon will be here, but I have no idea where he is, what he is doing, or if he is planning on coming tonight.

"How are you feeling tonight, baby?" he asks me, sticking his body to mine and never giving me some space. "Good," I pass my card in front of the reader to open the door, and I get in with him.

"What color do you want?" I ask with the remote control in my hand, and he leans in to whisper 'Red' in my ear, so I pick this one for the room to be dived in this color. "Tie your hair up," he runs his fingers through it, telling me I am going to have to deal with what I had to last night.

I want to cry just at the thought of it.

I put the remote control down, and with the hair tie around my wrist, I tie my hair in a low bun since Mister Jeon told me he finds me pretty with it, and Kangdae grabs the slider of the zipper in the front of my short leather bodysuit at my chest to pull it down and reveal some of my breasts.

"Get on your knees and serve me some whiskey," he orders me around, and I do so, I behave like he wants me to and get on my knees to fill a glass with alcohol but see him, from the corner of my eye, touch himself while watching me.

He walks closer to me, his oxfords tapping against the wooden floor, he goes right behind me and sits down. My heart racing and beating hard out of fear, I bring the bottle down on the table and grab the glass, but before I could even hand it to him, I feel his fingers skim the side of my throat to end around it, and he pulls me back in a gentle manner.

My eyes remaining on the drink I cannot let go of, his lips brush my ear and he leans forth to take the glass out of my hand. "You smell so good," he grins against my skin, being a pervert and knowing how wrong this is, but loving it, loving the fright he causes to me for sure.

He kisses my neck but slides his hand up to my jawline. "Drink this for me," he brings the drink to my glossy lips, but I direct my head in the other way. "I hate whiskey, Kangdae..."

"Just a little for me," he insists, pushing the rim against my bottom lip. "Open your mouth and swallow a little bit," he forces me to do. This is not new to me, not unfamiliar, I am used to it, sadly, so I do as he says and part my lips. "There," he pours the liquid in my mouth and tilts my head up, so I swallow everything that leaks but choke on it, and some of it ends on my clothes.

A chortle runs out of him as if it was fun, and he puts the glass down to grab a few tissues while my throat is awfully burning. He takes this opportunity to wipe the alcohol off my bodysuit, my dark tights, rubbing it between my thighs and breasts.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he glides his hand over my breasts without ever stopping, the tissue not soaking anything anymore at this point. "Yeah..." I struggle to breathe and answer, so I attempt to go away to not feel his hands on me, but he holds me still. "Turn around."

While catching my breath and agonizing with the pain in my throat that spread to my chest, I face him, not standing up since he wants me on my knees, and he cups my chin to lift my head up. He stares down into my watery eyes but grins then leers at me.

He knows how uncomfortable he makes me, but it does not seem to bother him at all, instead, it turns him on.

"You should open that thing," he points his finger at my bodysuit. "Some of the whiskey went inside," he shows satisfaction but puts one of his hands between his thighs, believing that it is still necessary to be discreet while touching himself. "I'm fine," I shake my head, not looking at him to not have to see his face I hate so much.

"Come on, I know you're not," he deepens the opening without permission, my bra now within sight. "Look," he glides one finger up between my ribs. "Your skin is still wet," he expresses a lot of undeniable but evident arousal, his other hand moving over his crotch. "Wipe it off. It's gonna be sticky otherwise."

I nibble on my inner cheek but reach out for some tissues, and I make fast to get rid of the whiskey that covered my skin.

Knowing he is getting off to it, I do not do it well and drop the tissues on the floor, but it is still not enough for him. "Bend over and wipe what's on the floor."

I do everything possible to stay calm and not break down, and instead of using tissues, I stand up to go get a towel, and I move back towards him to wipe the floor and clean the mess he caused.

"Good girl," he breathes out, his disgusting actions making it more and more difficult to not want to shoot a bullet through his head. I hate men so much.

•••

11:30 pm.

The time passing, the pain heightening, I stand on my spot, with an empty head, staring into space.

What have I done wrong to be here? What should I do to be able to have a normal life and get out of this without causing harm to my baby's future? What is he even going to think of his mother when he is old enough to understand what I am doing with my life? He will be so ashamed to have me as a mother.

"Sweetheart?" the voice I have been praying to hear since I came here finally fills my ears, and I raise my head up to make eye contact with him. "Hey, are you okay?" he heaves his hand up to my face to touch the side of it in one of the most delicate manners.

I did not even realize that I was daydreaming.

Not wanting him to suspect anything, I force a smile to answer him. "I am. I'm sorry, Mister Jeon. I was in my thoughts," I apologize for my disrespectful behavior, but his soft expression reassures me. "Don't say sorry," he takes his hand off of me. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I lie, but he stares without blinking, showing some skepticism. He slides his hand in a pocket of his grey trousers, his chest rising and going down more than obviously, he looks around us and makes me notice the bag he is carrying.

What has he brought tonight? Is it for Cherry this time?

"Can you wait for me in my room?" he speaks near my ear so that I can clearly hear his words, and I nod. Before heading to the upper floor, I look at where he is going but see Lily and some other girls hurry to have his attention.

I do not want to witness this, so I leave and go to his room.

'JUNGKOOK'S P.O.V'

"Mister Jeon, how are you doing?" Lily wraps her arms around me as I am looking for Cherry, so I run my fingers through her hair to comb it. "I'm doing good, Lily, but I gotta talk to someone. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay, Mister Jeon," she pouts but steps back to free me, so I walk through the crowd to find the woman I am looking for, and in short seconds, I fall upon her. "Cherry," I lay my hand on her back, and she instantly whirls around. "Honey! How are you doing?" she throws her arms around my neck to hug me, so I return it and press my lips on her sharp jawline "I'm doing good, how about you?"

"I'm doing amazing," she does not surprise me at all, always being in a good mood, but her eyes go down to my bag. "Are you looking for Babygirl?" she guesses who this is for with no need to hear anything from me, and I smile, uncontrollably. "I'm gonna meet her in my room, but I first wanted to ask if we can see each other tonight? I need to talk to you."

"Sure, honey. Is it urgent?" she agrees with no second thought, always available for me, so I shake my head but speak in her ear again. "Just a small talk when you're free. No need to worry."

"Alright, we can talk once y/n is busy doing something else, so stay with her as much as you want, okay?" she pokes my chest with her finger, and I chuckle but nod. "I will. See you," I stroke the back of her hand, and she sends me a kiss. "See you."

Now that it is done, I walk away and make it quick to join the woman I have been wanting to see this whole time. I miss her so much.

I take my card out to enter the room, and as soon as I see her sitting on the sofa, I feel the effect, which she has on me, spread through me at warp speed. I close the door behind me and sit down where I am used to doing it to take my suit jacket off and leave the bag next to me.

"Are you sure everything is alright, sweetheart?" I ask one more time, not trusting the answer she gave me earlier. She repeats the same word, not seeming honest at all, so I take a break to slow down my breathing and stare at her in the eyes. She does not look okay, and this worries me.

"Who were you taking care of before I came?" I take hold of the glass in front of me to turn it upside down and get the bottle out of the ice. "Kangdae."

Here is the reason for her to feel that way. I knew it.

I swallow the saliva in my mouth and try to find something to say in order to not mess up. At first, I stay silent and think about the words to say while filling my glass with Champagne, then I put the bottle down and take a sip. "Did you have to stay there for a long time?" I fix my eyes on her to read her body language and reaction she has that cannot be controlled.

"I don't know, at least half an hour," she constantly drops her eyes to the ground as if something was making her feel ashamed or self-conscious. "Would you mind talking about what he forced you to do?"

She hesitates, rubbing her fingers over her other hand and showing lack of peace of mind. "I cannot talk about what I do with other clients..."

I do not say anything about this, not knowing how I should react. I know she cannot, but she should. She should not keep all the pain, that they cause, to herself. This will only harm her even more.

The tension growing even tighter, I run my tongue over my lips and glance down at my drink.

Men are having so much power over her, and I have no idea how to get her out of this. This situation makes me feel involved, indirectly, and this is so painful to see her try to deal with it on her own.

Being out of words, I clear my throat and rest my elbow on my thigh to cover my mouth with my hand and put my glass down. If she is feeling that way, not telling me anything about it, he must have gone way too far and probably done more than sexual harassment.

I breathe out heavily and gaze up at her. I just want to hold her, to have her in my arms, make her feel safe and good, but I cannot. I feel so useless.

Understanding that she is uncomfortable about this topic and does not want to hear it anymore, I peek at the bag that is on my left, and I pick it up.

I lay it on my lap and take the present out of it. "I got you something."