The Edge of Desperation

Beep, beep.

As he pressed the scanner, an ID verification notification appeared on the monitor. The young man who had brought a beer can to the counter rummaged through his wallet at the request for ID, then looked flustered.

“Uh, what? What the hell.”

Shaking his wallet with an exasperated expression, the man turned to Hae-jun with a syrupy smile.

“Hey, I think I left my ID in the clothes I wore to the club yesterday. Check this instead.”

With a confident smirk, he tilted his chin and showed a photo of his ID saved on his phone, adding, “The manager here knows I buy stuff often. I live nearby.”

Hae-jun shook his head apologetically.

“Sorry, but our policy requires seeing the physical ID. A saved photo won’t work.”

“Come on, I’m having a drink at home with friends waiting. Just let it slide? If it’s that big a deal, I’ll bring it tomorrow and show you.”

The man tapped the bottle impatiently. As the line began to back up, Hae-jun scanned the area nervously. The stubborn customer in front of the register kept glancing at his friends outside the convenience store, making Hae-jun certain he was a minor.

“I’m sorry. Without seeing the ID, I can’t sell you alcohol. Truly sorry.”

The man’s face crumpled as Hae-jun took the bottle from his hand.

“What the f*ck? You son of a b*tch, being such a tight-ass. Do you know this is the only convenience store around? f*cking ridiculous!”

He kicked the display stand in front of the counter and stormed out, making a scene. Hae-jun had no time to feel wronged about being cursed at for no reason, nor to feel relieved that the nuisance had left. He hurriedly thanked the waiting customers for their patience and apologized, his hands moving busily.

Once the customers left, he turned to other tasks. Only after finishing inventory and stocking the shelves did he straighten his back. He grimaced as he looked down at his hand, where a stinging sensation had set in. He must have cut it somewhere while moving packages in a hurry.

Putting a bandage on only made it hurt more. Moving heavy items and doing odd jobs had left his hands covered in various wounds. ‘Mom would be shocked,’ he thought. ‘Why is a violinist’s hand in such a state?’

He let out a bitter laugh and relaxed his tense shoulders. After being kicked out of Alive with ridiculous ease, he had nowhere to go and had to impose on an older friend’s house again.

When he first returned to Korea, he was overwhelmed and unfamiliar with things, so he hadn’t fully realized the burden he was placing on others. Now that he understood the reality, every day felt like walking on a bed of nails, conscious of leeching off someone who wasn’t well-off.

He thought about giving private lessons in English, but even after posting on websites and calling schools, no requests came in. He could play the violin and piano, so he tried to find part-time work as an accompanist, but inexplicably, things always fell through midway.

Luckily, a friend who performed in an indie band got him a job at a club. Between performances, he played the violin and did odd jobs until closing time at dawn, and he could even sleep there. A place to stay was solved, but that wasn’t the problem.

Not only did he have to return the deposit he had already spent, but what felt even more devastating was that people had come looking for him about a loan shark debt his father had taken out before his death. The interest had mounted, and they demanded repayment. He had heard that his father borrowed from loan sharks as a last resort, but he had forgotten. And apparently, it wasn’t a regular company but an underground illegal organization.

He tried to argue that he had disclaimed the inheritance, but to people who lived outside the law, that meant nothing. When he threatened to report them for illegal collection, they just laughed. ‘With your status, homeless brat, haven’t you learned that fists are closer than the law?’ they mocked. ‘If you want your body sliced up before you report us, go ahead.’ They even threatened to harvest his organs.

After barely escaping with his hands intact, he gave up and worked over sixteen hours a day, handing over all his earnings as interest. Now, he couldn’t even afford a cup ramen without worry, let alone the coffee from cafes or taxis he once took for granted.

Even working until his body broke down, no money ever stayed in his hands.

The loan sharks, unsatisfied, raised the interest rate further. Barely keeping up with the interest payments, they would come by to monitor him, casually deliberating like a joke how to sell him off. With a physique like his, they said he couldn’t be sent on a deep-sea fishing boat, so they muttered about the price of his organs and chuckled. But there was no way out.

He couldn’t run away and leave his sick mother, nor could he rob a bank like a madman. He just worked like a hamster on a wheel, but whenever he had a moment to himself, despair gnawed at his mind.

Every time he saw the sun setting, his breath caught and his hands trembled. Barely eating or resting all day, he moved like a machine, drowning in a depression he didn’t even recognize. Truly, he wanted to die.

***

“Ah… well, I already have something going on.”

Trainer Jeong, his coach from his trainee days, had called and abruptly asked if he wanted a part-time job. He said a bar he knew was urgently looking for a part-timer, and the pay was good. The tone suggested it wasn’t an ordinary pub, and Teacher Jeong openly said to think of it as a high-end room salon with no discrimination in sexual orientation.

Hae-jun declined politely while glancing at his watch. It was almost time for the delivery. Why did he call? They weren’t even close enough to exchange greetings. The suggestion of a bar job left a bad taste.

– It’s a bar, but not just anyone can get in. It’s a membership club. The clientele are wealthy, so they’re laid-back and gentlemanly. Not like those hardcore, rough places.

He had heard that such places were utterly depraved. Scandals involving entertainment industry figures getting drunk and committing crimes were a regular fixture in the news.

– Business meetings happen there too, so they only hire people with verified identities and trustworthy backgrounds. They also need someone with foreign language skills, which made me think of you. You’re looking for a job now, aren’t you? Want to give it a try? The pay is high. I’m telling you because it’s too good a position to pass up.

At the mention of high pay, Hae-jun’s mouth fell open. Honestly, he was desperate for every penny.

“How much do they pay? And if I work the counter, I won’t have to… well, serve drinks to guests, right?”

– You can easily make 3 million won a month. I’m recommending it because it’s not hard, and it’s a short-term gig, so no pressure.

Hae-jun’s eyes widened, and his grip on the phone tightened. Had he heard correctly?

“3 million? Just working the night counter?”

– That’s because it’s short-term. People can’t just walk into the rooms there. They need someone urgently, but it’s a position everyone wants. The clients are successful businessmen and artists. If you’re lucky, you might even get introduced to good opportunities.

Conflict raged inside him. No matter how high-end and membership-based they claimed it was, it was still a room salon. His father, who had raised him preciously, and his mother would be appalled. But if he just worked the counter, wouldn’t it be okay? Thinking of the convenience store wage—barely half of that even working all month—Hae-jun’s resolve crumbled.

“Um, I really want to do it. Where should I go?”

– That’s right, you shouldn’t miss out! You know I’m doing this because I think highly of you, right? That place is a part-time paradise.

A cheerful laugh came through, and the shadow on Hae-jun’s face lifted. He wished it were true. He hoped to quickly save enough money to cover the surgery costs and the loan shark interest. Then, if he could find a way to return to school, it felt like he could nurture a reason to live.

***

Teacher Jeong had definitely learned the word “paradise” wrong.

Hae-jun stood frozen in shock, his gaze alternating between a man screaming at the silver ceramic table and another person slumped on the sofa with a hand over their cheek.

The membership club Chronos was nothing like the “high-end room salon” he had imagined. It felt more like a highly private meeting place, shattering that prejudice. There was no main hall; it operated with individual rooms, each with its own dedicated team, and each team had multiple staff members. The staff attending to guests were stunningly beautiful men and women who could pass for celebrities.

There, Hae-jun started learning the job as a counter assistant. Manager Lee, who ran the counter, also supervised a few rooms, so he probably needed an assistant, but he mostly handled things himself and didn’t give Hae-jun any critical tasks.

The work was easy, and the environment was pleasant. The special accounting system for entertainment establishments was confusing at first, but he soon caught on easily, even joking around with Manager Lee. Gradually, Hae-jun became numb to the fact that this place sold pleasure.

Then one day, he was asked to quickly deliver a snack to a room. Just that one delivery earned him a huge tip. It was money he would have had to work eight hours a day for half a month at the convenience store to earn, but here it came as payment for less than five minutes of work. Even for someone who had grown up without worrying about allowance, it was a shocking experience. After that, he started to think foolishly that perhaps this bar wasn’t such a lowly place after all.

But they say a tightrope walker is never safe once airborne.

When he accepted that tip as if it were nothing, he knew deep down that this wasn’t the whole story. He just wanted to look away. But as always, the world was not as simple as he hoped.

“What are you going to do about that bastard?!”

A middle-aged man, his face flushed red with rage, jabbed a finger accusingly. Manager Lee, who had rushed in after being called, bowed humbly.

“I’m sorry, Chairman Jeong. U-gyeom isn’t feeling well today, so he made a grave mistake. Please calm your anger.”

“What? You put a bastard like that in my room? Do you know what he did?”

The whiskey bottle on the table had rolled over, spilling liquid, and the man’s unbuttoned shirt revealed a belt and a dark red penis flopping pathetically with every movement. U-gyeom’s hair, which had probably been perfect when he entered, was now a tangled mess.

Even Hae-jun, who had come in with Manager Lee after an urgent summons, could piece together the situation without being told.